#deonn writes ✍🏾

[snowseasonmademe]

Further, Faster, Harder.

word count: 7,747

warning ‼️: a LOT of smut (multiple positions), biiiigggggg age gap (20 years)

paring: boyfriend lewis x black female reader

summary: Lewis wanted to make you feel extra special on your (shared) special day.

note: this is a long one yall, but lewis and i are the same zodiac so i wrote a little 🎶birthday sex🎶 fic. he just so happens to be almost exactly 20 years older than me and apparently i like old men so i couldn’t pass this up! i hope you all enjoy, and ofc tell me what you think ;)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The low, throaty purr of an all-black Ferrari SF90 Stradale echoed through the crisp January evening as you glanced out the passenger window. The car felt alive beneath you, its engine a symphony of power that hummed through the leather seats. The London skyline shimmered ahead, a sea of lights that seemed to stretch endlessly, while the glow of the dashboard bathed the sleek interior in an ambient red hue. Despite the chill in the air outside, warmth bubbled in your chest. It was your birthday—your mutual birthday—a twist of fate that had felt oddly serendipitous from the moment you and Lewis first discovered it.

He shifted gears with practiced ease, his hand briefly brushing the edge of your thigh. “So” he began, his voice smooth and teasing, “did you really think I’d let us spend our day any other way?”

You snorted, pulling the caramel-hued coat tighter around you, not for warmth but because his presence always seemed to steal the air. “Oh, absolutely not. I fully expected flashy cars, a private dinner, and you trying—very unsuccessfully, might I add—to outshine my birthday with yours.”

Lewis let out a low, rich laugh that filled the car, his dimple appearing in the dim light as he stole a quick glance at you. “Please. Let’s not pretend it’s a competition. Everyone knows the better Capricorn here its obvious.”

You raised an eyebrow, biting back a grin. “Obvious? That’s a bold claim for someone who just hit 40. You’re practically ancient now.”

He shot you a mock-offended look, his British accent sharpening with playfulness. “Ancient? Forty’s the peak of my prime. Haven’t you heard? I’m like fine wine.”

“Yeah, fine wine that’s been aged a bit too long” you teased, your laughter dancing through the space between you.

“Chill” he warned, a wicked smile tugging at his lips as he smoothly turned a corner, the Ferrari responding like a predator stalking the night. “This ancient man just might leave you walking home.”

“Walking home? In this coat?” You gestured dramatically at your outfit. “You’d be doing London a favor. People need to see me.”

“True” he admitted, his grin widening. “You do look stunning. But I think we both know you’d rather freeze than miss this ride.”

You leaned back in the plush seat, letting your fingers trail over the soft leather armrest. “I don’t know. Your little Ferrari phase might’ve won me over. For now.”

He let out a sharp laugh. “Little Ferrari phase? Tell that to the team—they’d love that description.”

The playful banter carried you through the streets until the car finally pulled to a stop in front of a riverside restaurant that practically screamed elegance.

Inside, the restaurant felt like stepping into another world. The glow of candlelight flickered against the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting shadows that danced on the polished hardwood floors. The Thames flowed serenely outside, its reflection catching the city’s twinkling lights.

The maître d’ greeted you both with warmth, though his polite smile lingered on Lewis just a little too long for your liking. You shot him a knowing glance, which Lewis met with a raised brow and an amused smirk, as if to say, You’re jealous.

“Only the best for the birthday queen” Lewis declared as he pulled out your chair, his voice dipped in that velvety British lilt that always made your stomach flutter.

You tilted your head at him, feigning disappointment. “And here I was thinking you’d forgotten the tiara.”

He leaned down, his lips brushing your ear as he whispered, “Not forgotten. Just saving the best for later.”

The dinner unfolded like a dream. Each dish was a masterpiece, from the perfectly seared scallops to the rich, velvety dessert that melted on your tongue. The wine was as smooth as the conversation, which flowed effortlessly between the two of you, laced with wit and the kind of intimacy that could only come from two people who knew each other down to the smallest detail.

“Seriously, though” you said, swirling the last of your wine in the glass. “How does it feel being forty? Do you get senior discounts now?”

Lewis set down his fork, leaning back in his chair with an amused glint in his eye. “I’ll have you know I’m still younger at heart than you. But if senior discounts include free wine, I might consider it.”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “Free wine or not, you’re officially in ‘bee keeper’ territory now.”

“And yet here you are” he shot back, his tone sly as he rested his chin on his hand, “celebrating your big 2-0 with me. What does that say about your taste, love?”

You bit your lip to stifle a laugh. “That I have a thing for men with ridiculous levels of confidence.”

“Ridiculous confidence is just another way of saying I’ve got good reason.”

Somewhere between dessert and the end of the second bottle of wine, Lewis leaned in, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “You know, I’ve never spent a birthday like this before.”

You raised a brow. “What, you mean being roasted by someone half your age?”

“No” he said with a soft laugh, his gaze locking with yours. “I mean, spending it with someone who makes it unforgettable.”

Heat crept up your neck as the words settled over you. For once, you were grateful for the low lighting, knowing he’d catch the blush on your face if the room were any brighter. “You’ve got good lines, Hamilton. I’ll give you that.”

He smirked, his dimple reappearing. “And here you thought I was ancient.”

The drive back to his place was quieter now, the low hum of the Ferrari’s engine filling the silence as the city lights smeared into a kaleidoscope of golds and whites against the window. You watched the world rush by, your cheek pressed lightly against the cool glass, your mind swirling with the events of the evening. Lewis’s hand rested on the gear shift, his thumb occasionally brushing against your knee, a small but grounding gesture that sent tiny sparks up your spine.

Lewis had a way of making silence feel intimate, like you were sharing a secret only the two of you could understand. He’d crack the occasional joke, his British accent wrapping around his words in that smooth, teasing way of his, but he also seemed content to just be with you, letting the moment stretch without feeling the need to fill it.

“I’m just saying” you broke the silence, a playful lilt in your voice, “you’ve got way too much energy for someone turning 40. Should I be worried you’re one of those guys who lies about his age?”

He glanced at you, his lips quirking into a smirk. “Love, if I were lying, don’t you think I’d say I’m younger? What kind of idiot would round up to 40?”

You bit back a laugh. “Fair point. Still, you’ve got that youthful glow. Should I be looking for a fountain of youth around here?”

“Funny. I was going to say the same about you,” he quipped, his eyes flicking toward you briefly before returning to the road. “Though I think the real secret is being around me. I have that effect, you know.”

“Ah, yes” you teased, your voice dripping with mock sincerity. “Sir Lewis Hamilton, F1 driver, philanthropist, anti-aging elixir. Truly a man of many talents.”

He chuckled, the sound warm and effortless. “Don’t forget humble. That’s the most important one.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t hide the grin tugging at your lips. The kind of banter you shared felt as natural as breathing, a testament to how far you’d come in the past year. Last year, you’d been strangers, exchanging polite birthday messages in a group chat. Now, almost a year into your relationship, celebrating this day together felt nothing short of surreal.

When the car finally pulled into his building’s private garage, you followed him up to his penthouse. As soon as you stepped inside, the soft scent of amber and cedarwood and cinnamon greeted you, enveloping you like a warm hug. The space was immaculate but still inviting, every detail reflecting Lewis’s refined yet cozy taste. The floor-to-ceiling windows framed the glittering London skyline, but your attention was drawn to the setup near the fireplace: a nest of plush blankets and pillows, their edges catching the soft glow of the flames, and a small black box wrapped neatly with a satin ribbon sitting in the center.

“Planning to smother me with luxury tonight?” you teased, slipping off your coat and draping it over a nearby chair.

He shot you a sidelong glance, his lips curling into that signature dimpled smile. “Only if you let me.”

Crossing the room, he picked up the box and handed it to you with both hands, his tone softening. “Happy birthday.”

You sank down onto the blankets, crossing your legs as you carefully untied the ribbon. The room seemed to hold its breath as you lifted the lid, revealing a delicate gold necklace nestled inside. The pendant was sleek and minimalist, the numbers 2040 shimmering in the firelight—your ages this year, intertwined in a way that felt both simple and profound.

You ran your fingers over the numbers, the cool metal warming under your touch. “Lewis…” Your voice was barely above a whisper as you looked up at him, emotions you couldn’t quite name rising in your chest.

He knelt in front of you, his hands steady as he unclasped the necklace. “I wanted you to have something to remember this year by” he murmured, his eyes meeting yours with an intensity that made your breath hitch. “Our first birthday together. The first of many, hopefully.”

The necklace was cool against your skin as he fastened it around your neck, his fingers brushing against the nape of your neck in a way that sent a shiver through you.

“Cheesy” you managed to say, though your voice wavered slightly. “Really cheesy.”

He leaned back, a slow, confident smile spreading across his face. “You love it.”

“Maybe” you admitted, your lips curving into a soft smile. “You’re still ridiculous, though. You know that, right?”

He tilted his head, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Only for you, love. Only for you.”

And in that moment, as the firelight danced across his features and the weight of the necklace settled warmly against your chest, you knew this was a birthday you’d never forget.

The crackle of the fire filled the space as silence stretched between you, comfortable and unspoken. He reached out, his fingers brushing along your cheek with a tenderness that made your breath catch. The air between you felt charged, thick with something unnameable yet impossible to ignore. He didn’t speak, but his gaze said everything. It was the kind of look that promised a night you’d carry with you long after the embers of the fire died out.

Wordlessly, he offered you his hand, pulling you to your feet. Your bodies moved in sync, a slow dance as he guided you away from the cozy setup near the fireplace. The city lights spilled across the polished floors of the penthouse, casting soft, flickering reflections. The world outside felt miles away, as if time had bent itself around the two of you, creating a space that existed only for this moment.

When you reached the edge of the couch, he paused, his hand slipping from yours to settle lightly on your waist. The tension between you buzzed like a live wire, your breaths shallow and synchronized as you stood inches apart. He reached up, his thumb brushing against the gold pendant resting at your collarbone.

“This suits you” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, deep and velvety.

You tilted your head, meeting his eyes. “You’re biased” you teased softly, though the words came out shakier than you’d intended.

His lips curved into a slow, knowing smile. “Damn right I am” he said, his fingers trailing from the necklace to the nape of your neck, sending a shiver down your spine.

And then, finally, he kissed you

The first kiss was thoughtful, like he was savoring every second of you. His lips were warm, soft, yet firm in their intent, coaxing a response that set your nerves alight. The faint taste of wine lingered on his tongue as he deepened the kiss, one hand sliding up to cradle the back of your neck while the other settled firmly on your waist.

When he pulled back just enough to look at you, your lips tingled from the contact. The smirk that spread across your face was full of mischief, your eyes glittering in the dim light. “You know” you began, your voice sultry but teasing, “I’ve never had birthday sex with an old man before.”

Lewis stilled for half a second, then let out a deep, throaty chuckle, his dimple flashing in a way that made your pulse skip. “Old man?” he repeated, his voice dripping with mock indignation. “You’re really leaning into this, aren’t you?”

You tilted your head, feigning innocence. “I mean, forty’s practically dinosaur age. Should I grab your reading glasses before we get started?”

The laugh that followed was low and dangerous, his grip on your waist tightening as he tugged you flush against him. “Keep that up y/n” he murmured, his tone dropping to a husky rasp that sent a shiver down your spine, “this so-called old man is about to ruin you.”

Your grin widened, your fingers trailing along the line of his jaw. “Bold words for someone who’s practically collecting a pension.”

He responded without hesitation, his lips brushing against your ear as his voice dipped even lower. “You’re about to love this ‘old man dick’ sweetheart.”

You laughed a bit then your breath hitched in your throat, your teasing façade faltering for a split second. Before you could come up with a retort, he claimed your mouth again, the kiss harder this time, more insistent. His hands explored your body with a practiced precision that made your skin hum in anticipation.

When he lifted you effortlessly into his arms, your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist. “Pretty strong for a grandpa” you teased breathlessly, but your voice cracked with laughter as he spun you around, his mouth pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses to the curve of your neck.

“You talk a big game” he shot back, his words muffled against your skin, “but let’s see if you can handle me”

By the time he carried you into the bedroom, the world beyond those walls didn’t exist. The room was bathed in soft streaks of silver light from the city below, the faint hum of life outside muffled by the thick glass of the windows. But the only thing you were aware of was him—the heat radiating from his body, the controlled strength in his movements, the way his touch left trails of fire wherever his hands and lips explored.

The bed was impossibly soft beneath you, though you barely noticed as he leaned over you, his gaze locked onto yours with an intensity that stole your breath. His hands moved with a tantalizing slowness, fingers skimming along the hem of your dress before sliding it up, inch by inch, until you felt the cool air against your skin.

“You look stunning” he murmured, his voice reverent but laced with heat as his eyes roamed over you. “Better than I deserve, really.”

You arched a brow, your lips curving into a smirk. “Glad you’re finally admitting it.”

He let out another low chuckle, the sound vibrating through you as his mouth found the sensitive spot just below your ear. “Smart mouth” he murmured, his voice dark and teasing. “Let’s see how long you can keep that up.”

And just like that, words became irrelevant. The moments following were a blur of heat and sensation, a symphony of whispered confessions and breathless laughter that gave way to moans and the sound of tangled sheets. You both lay on the bed bare and craving each other beyond measure. His fingers traced a feather-light path down your collarbone, causing you to shiver despite the lingering warmth between you. He followed that trail with his lips, kissing each spot softly before moving lower. You arched into him, your nails raking gently across his back as his mouth found the sensitive curve of your breast.

His touch was both commanding and tender, guiding you with a confidence that left no doubt he knew exactly how to unravel you. His tongue swirled around your nipple, the teasing flick a jolt of electricity straight to your core. A gasp escaped you, your fingers tangling in his braided hair as he lavished the tender bud with attention. His hand mirrored the action on your other breast, kneading with just the right amount of pressure.

As he continued his sensual care on your breasts, his other hand wandered lower, slipping beneath the waistband of your panties. His fingers parted your folds, stroking through your slick heat with agonizing slowness. You moan in relief as you finally felt the touch in the place you’ve been wanting all night.

"Shit y/n you’re so wet for me already” he murmured against your skin, his breath hot and ragged. His fingers continued their teasing rhythm, circling your clit but never quite touching it directly. The taunting motion had your hips lifting helplessly, searching for more contact. “Gotta give my best for my birthday boy” you say with a teasing smile on your face

"Mmm, seems like someone's eager tonight" he teased breathlessly, your fingers tightening their grip in his hair. Arching again, you pressed harder against his teasing fingertips, desperate for relief. "Well stop teasing and fuck me already" you demanded, your voice thick with desire.

A dark chuckle rumbled through his chest as he broke away from your breasts, his eyes meeting yours with an intense, knowing gaze. "How dare you talk to the birthday boy like that?” he chuckled mocking you, finally pressing directly against your clit, making you gasp. "I have plans for you though. I can’t let you get away with making fun of all night baby.”

"And what plans would those be?" you managed to ask between panting breaths, your body winding tighter with each skilled movement of his fingers. He didn't answer with words, instead capturing your mouth in a searing kiss as his fingers continued their expert dance.

His tongue slid against yours in a mimicking what his fingers were doing below, making you moan into his mouth. Then, suddenly, he slid two of his thick, tattooed fingers deep inside you, his thumb still circling your clit.

The dual sensations had your back arching off the bed, breaking the kiss as you let out a loud moan. The feeling making you almost salivate "Oh god” you gasped, your body clenching around his fingers, desperate for more. "More…” you whimpered, your nails digging into his shoulders. "I need more..."

He complied with a wicked grin, pumping his fingers faster and harder, the wet sounds of your pussy filling the air as he drove you closer to the edge. "Like this baby?" he growled, his forehead pressed against yours.

"Yes” you exhaled, your body trembling as he hit that perfect spot inside you. The wet sounds of your arousal turing you on more, —if that was even possible — your body craved even more of him. "Uuh but It's not enough” you wailed, writhing beneath him. "I need you, not your fingers” you say grabbing his shoulder. He chuckled darkly, slowly pulling his fingers out.

He didn’t make you wait another second, his movements efficient as he stripped away the last barriers between your bodies. Each piece of clothing fell to the floor in a whisper, leaving him bare before you—a vision of strength and heat. His hands returned to your thighs, firm but tender as he guided them around his waist, his touch igniting sparks across your skin.

The anticipation was almost unbearable, the space between you charged with unspoken hunger. His body hovered over yours, his dark eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that left you breathless. He softly brushed his hands along your thighs, lined himself up with you, his thick length brushing against your dripping entrance, teasing you with the promise of what was to come.

When he finally thrusts forward, the world seemed to shift. One powerful motion had him burying himself inside you, stretching you in a way that stole your breath. Your back arched instinctively, your body surrendering to the sensation of being completely filled. The exquisite pressure was both overwhelming and perfect, a mix of fullness and connection that sent shockwaves rippling through you.

“This better?” he rasped, his voice thick and gravelly, the sound vibrating through your chest. His hands gripped your hips, grounding you as he pulled back just enough to make you ache for more, only to stroke back in with a slow pace that left you trembling.

A choked moan escaped your lips, your fingers clutching at his shoulders as you tried to steady yourself against the onslaught of sensation. “Oh yes” you breathed, your voice barely a whisper, but the desperate edge in it said everything.

Lewis tilted his head, a smug grin curling at the corners of his lips as he watched your reaction. “You feel so good baby” he murmured, his hips setting a steady rhythm. Each thrust was felt like a piece of heaven, his movements slow enough to let you feel every inch of him, but powerful enough to leave you breathless.

The way he fucked you was relentless, the friction and heat building with every thrust. His body was pressed tightly to yours, his heavy, hot body brushing against your chest with each motion, his breath hot against your neck. The room seemed to shrink until it was just the two of you, wrapped in a haze of heat, desire, and the raw, primal connection that tethered you together.

As he drove deeper, his grip on your hips tightened, his thumbs pressing into your soft skin as if anchoring himself in the moment. “Look at me” he demanded, his voice low and commanding. “I want you to look at me while I fuck you”

Your gaze locked with his, the intensity in his dark eyes making your pulse quicken. Every thrust sent ripples of pleasure through you, the rhythm building as he took you higher, each movement precise, unrelenting, and filled with purpose.

“Does that feel good?” he asked again, his voice rough and laced with amusement as he pushed deeper still, watching the way your body arched to meet his.

“Perfect” you managed to gasp, your nails raking down his back as he buried himself fully inside you once more.

Your voice broke into a raw, unrestrained scream, your nails carving crescents into the taut muscles of his back. Each thrust sent a wave of sensation through your body, igniting every nerve like a live wire. Lewis gripped you with unrelenting force, his fingers digging into your flesh as though he never wanted to let go. His pace was punishing and purposeful, each stroke a calculated attempt to claim every inch of you.

The slickness of your arousal coated his dick, allowing him to move in and out with sinful ease, his deep, guttural groans echoing your breathless cries. His chest brushed against yours, the heat of his skin matching the fire coursing through your veins. “Feel that?” he rasped into your ear, guiding your hand to you lower abdomen. “You feel where I am inside you y/n?” You could feel him beating at your insides underneath your hands, leaving you dizzy.

You gasped, your body tightening around him at his words. But then, a bold thought slipped from your lips before you could stop it. “I wanna ride you.”

His movements stilled for a heartbeat, and then a wicked smile curved his lips. “I love it when you take control” he murmured, his voice filled with equal parts admiration and desire. Without hesitation, he grabbed your waist and flipped you onto him with fluid ease, his strength sending a thrill down your spine.

Before you could catch your breath, you were astride him, your thighs pressed against his hips as his dick filled you completely. The angle was new, deeper, more intense, and it stole the air from your lungs. His hands found your breasts, warm palms cupping the sensitive curves. His thumbs teased your nipples, the gentle pinch sending shocks of pleasure down your spine.

“Go on” he said, his eyes dark with need. “Show me what you’ve got.”

His words spurred you on, your hands bracing against his chest as you began to move. The muscles beneath your fingers flexed with each thrust as he met your rhythm, his body rising to match every roll of yours. The friction sent waves of heat cascading through you, and the soft, slick sounds of your bodies moving together only added to the intoxicating haze of the moment. You couldn’t believe how wet you are, soaking both of the lower extremities with each thrust out.

His hands slid from your breasts to your waist, guiding your movements but leaving you firmly in control. “There you baby” he groaned, his voice ragged. “Take your dick. It’s all yours.”

Your head tipped back as you found your pace, the pleasure building higher with each roll of your hips. Your long hair cascaded down your back, brushing against his hands as they roamed over your curves. His eyes roamed your body, drinking in the sight of you like a man starved.

“Damn” he muttered, his grip tightening on your waist. “You’re so fucking sexy like this.”

You smirked, leaning forward just enough for your lips to hover near his ear. “I know” you teased and winked, your voice breathy but still laced with confidence.

Lewis chuckled, his hands sliding lower to grip your hips again, the movement sending sparks racing through you. “Cocky tonight, huh?” he challenged, him grinding sharply to meet you, making you cry out, shutting you up.

You threw your head back once more, your long hair tumbling in waves down your back, glinting in the dim light as it swayed with your every movement. You rolled your body with an urgency born of desire, rising and falling as you took him deeper than ever before. Each motion sent a jolt of pleasure coursing through you, a delicious mixture of control and submission as you rode him with abandon.

Lewis’s hands were strong on your waist, his grip possessive as he guided your movements. He met your grinding with powerful thrusts of his own, his body rising from the bed to drive deeper into you, each stroke aimed with precision that left you trembling. The thickness of his dick stretched you in all the right ways, hitting that sweet, devastating spot inside you that made your vision blur.

A whimper escaped your lips, followed by a breathless moan, your sounds blending with the wet, rhythmic noises of your bodies colliding. The heady scent of sweat and sex filled the air, mingling with the sound of his raspy breaths and your own needy cries.

“Faster” you panted, your voice barely audible over the pounding of your heart.

“Faster?” he repeated, his tone laced with mischief as one large hand left your waist and came down on your ass with a sharp smack. The sting rippled through you, blending seamlessly with the pleasure pulsing in your core, making your lower body jerk forward involuntarily. “Yeah baby” he teased breathlessly, his other hand sliding up your spine, grounding you. “Show me how bad you want it.”

Your body responded instinctively, moving with even greater speed. Your breasts bounced wildly with every rise and fall, catching his dark, hungry eyes as he watched you lose yourself above him.

“Ahh yes” he groaned, his dick throbbing inside you, pulsing in perfect time with the frantic rhythm of your bodies. His forehead glistened with sweat, his curls damp and clinging to his temples as he strained to meet every furious motion of your hips. The connection between you was electric, every nerve alight with pleasure and the sheer power of his presence beneath you.

Another sharp slap landed on your ass, making you gasp and cry out. “Fuck, you feel so good like this” he muttered, his hand immediately sliding to your lower back, pressing you forward as his other tangled in your hair. With a firm tug, he pulled you down to meet his lips in a bruising kiss.

The moment your mouths collided, the intensity between you flared brighter. His tongue slid against yours, his kiss just as commanding and relentless as the way he filled you. You could taste the taste of your lips on his lips, feel the tension in his jaw as his teeth grazed against your bottom lip, nipping just enough to make you gasp.

The heat of his chest against yours, the strength of his hands controlling your movements, and the way his body seemed to melt perfectly with yours—all of it was too much and not enough at the same time. The world narrowed to the two of you, the bed creaking beneath your combined weight as you pushed each other further, faster, harder.

“Uh- Fuck- Ah-“ he groaned against your lips, his voice raw and raspy.

“Look at you, riding your dick” he rasped, his voice low and raw as he pressed his forehead to yours, his lips brushing against yours with every labored breath. “Shit” curse fell from his lips like a confession, a whisper, the heat in his gaze burning into you.

He continued to fuck you, mirroring your movements to create the ultimate pleasure, thrust for thrust, the relentless rhythm sending waves of pleasure crashing over you. His fingers dug into your hips with such force you could feel the delicious pressure biting into your insides, a possessive mark you knew would linger long after this moment. “Harder” he growled, his voice thick with need and dominance.

The command sent a spark through you, your body responding instinctively. Letting out a desperate whimper, you adjusted your angle, planting your knees more firmly against the mattress for leverage. You began to slam down on him with every ounce of strength you could muster, taking him deeper with each thrust, the sensation of his dick filling you, driving you wild.

The room filled with the sharp, rhythmic sound of skin meeting skin, a symphony of raw passion that echoed in the air around you. Your cries mixed with his groans, creating a harmony of pleasure that left no space for anything else. His thick length hit all the right spots inside you, the perfect angle making stars burst behind your tightly closed eyelids.

“Yeeaahh there you go” he groaned, his voice a mixture of awe and desperation as his hands tightened their grip on your ass, guiding your movements. “That’s it baby, just like that.

But then, just when you thought you couldn’t take any more, he shifted. With a sudden, fluid movement, he flipped you onto your stomach, his strength effortlessly handling your body like it was meant to be molded beneath his touch. The cool sheets met your flushed skin, contrasting with the fiery heat coursing through your veins.

Pulling your hips up, he positioned you on your knees, presenting your ass to him. A dark, appreciative growl rumbled in his chest as he took in the sight before him. “Such a perfect view” he murmured, his hands roaming over the curve of your ass, spreading you wide as he admired the way your glistening entrance twitched with anticipation.

The moment of teasing felt like an eternity. His dick, still slick and throbbing, brushed against your folds, the tip barely pressing into you before pulling back. Each pass sent a shiver down your spine, the anticipation coiling tightly in your core.

“Lewis” you breathed sound a plea that you couldn’t hold back. Your voice trembling with need, and murmured as your face a pressed into the mattress.

He chuckled darkly, his hands gripping your back firmly as he finally aligned himself with you. “I know baby. I’ve got you.”

“You feel so fucking good” he groaned, his voice thick with need as he pulled back slowly, only to slam back into you with even more force.

His strong hands grounding you as he pulled you closer, guiding the rhythm of your bodies. The new angle shifted something deep inside you, igniting a fire that spread through every nerve. Each powerful thrust sent waves of pleasure radiating through your body, leaving you breathless and trembling.

The mattress beneath you dipped with every movement, your breasts brushing against the soft fabric as if it, too, responded to the intensity between you. Your fingers fisted the sheets in desperation, the cool texture a stark contrast to the heat building between your entwined bodies. The air was thick with the sounds of your connection. You reached your hand behind you to touch him, and feel even more connected as he filled you completely, over and over again.

Your cries of pleasure filled the room, bouncing off the walls and blending with the raw rhythm of your bodies. Each powerful thrust sent a jolt of electricity through you, the intensity building with every movement. The warmth of his body against yours, the sound of his ragged breathing, and the unrelenting pace all combined to set your senses alight.

“Yes, just like that” you gasped, your voice trembling with urgency as your body tightened around him, instinctively pulling him deeper. The delicious pressure and friction threatened to make you cum then and there, a tantalizing ache pooling in your core as you teetered on the edge of release. The sheer intimacy of the moment wrapped around you, pushing you closer to the brink with every heartbeat.

His hand slid around to find your most sensitive clit, his fingers skillfully matching the rhythm of his relentless movements. The instant he touched you, a surge of pleasure shot through your body, your breath catching as the tension within you coiled tighter. The precise pressure and timing were too much to bear, every nerve alive and burning with sensation.

The world seemed to fall away as you tipped over the edge, a wave of pure ecstasy crashing over you. Your body shaking uncontrollably, your inner walls clenching and pulsing around him in perfect harmony with the pleasure consuming you. He didn’t falter, fucking you fiercely, extending your orgasm, his movements guiding you through every second of the overwhelming climax.

His release finally hit, a deep groan tearing from his chest as he buried himself to the hilt, flooding your insides with his warmth. The sensation of him pulsing inside you sent a shiver down your spine, your body still trembling from the aftershocks of your own climax. Slowly, he collapsed on top of you, his weight settling over you like a comforting blanket, grounding you in the moment.

His breaths were hot and heavy against your neck, his lips brushing your skin with every exhale. He nuzzled closer, his arms curling around you protectively as though he couldn’t bear to let go. “That’s my favorite position you know” he murmured, his voice low and husky, tinged with the remnants of his pleasure.

You chuckled softly, your fingers threading through his damp hair. “I figured. You get a pretty nice view from back there.”

He grinned against your skin, pressing a lazy kiss to your shoulder. But then he paused, his hands beginning to roam over your curves with a possessive, thoughtful touch. His fingers traced the dip of your waist, and the swell of your hips.

“I think” he started, his voice trailing off as he shifted slightly, propping himself up on one elbow so he could look down at you. His gaze was soft but smoldering, a wicked gleam dancing in his dark eyes. “I think we need to try something new.”

You raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk tugging at your lips. “Oh? You’ve already got me questioning my ability to walk tomorrow, and now you want to add something else to the mix?”

His laugh was low and rich as he sat up, pulling you along with him. The ease with which he maneuvered your body made your heart race, and before you knew it, you were straddling his lap, your arms looping instinctively around his neck. His large hands settled on your waist, pulling you flush against him so that your bare skin pressed together.

“Have you ever done reverse cowgirl?” he asked, his tone deceptively casual, though the intensity in his gaze gave away his excitement.

You hesitated, the memory of past attempts flickering in your mind. “Yes” you admitted, your voice softer now, “but I didn’t like it before.” You avoided his eyes momentarily, not wanting to disappoint him.

His thumb brushed soothing circles over your side, his touch gentle as he tilted your chin up to meet his gaze. “But you haven’t tried it with me” he said, his voice warm and confident, laced with a promise you couldn’t ignore. “Trust me, it’ll feel good. After I’m inside you, lean forward and grab my ankles, okay?”

His reassuring tone made you relax, the corners of your mouth lifting in a small, trusting smile. “That sounds kind of funny,” you teased lightly, “but I trust you, so I guess we can try it.”

He grinned, leaning in to kiss you deeply, the kind of kiss that left no room for doubt. As his lips moved against yours, his hands slid down to grip your body, the promise of something exciting lingering in the air between you.

With a sudden, fluid motion, he shifted your body effortlessly, turning you until you were straddling him in reverse cowgirl. Your knees sank into the soft mattress as you leaned forward, just as he instructed, your fingers brushing his ankles for balance. The new position stretched your muscles in an unfamiliar but exhilarating way, your body arching beautifully as you adjusted.

“Good baby” he purred, his voice molten as his hands slid up your thighs, his fingers sprawled out. His grip was firm yet gentle, guiding your movements with unspoken confidence. “I’m gonna make you feel so good.”

His words sent a shiver down your spine, heat pooling low in your belly as you began to move, rocking your hips experimentally. The sensation of his dick filling you from this angle was different—intense, consuming, and deeply satisfying. You could feel every vein, ridge and curve. Slowly at first, you rose and sank onto him, each downward thrust drawing a low, guttural sound from his throat.

From behind, he had the perfect view, and he was mesmerized. His eyes rolled over the curve of your spine, the way your hair spilled down your back like a silken waterfall, and the hypnotic motion of your pussy taking him in, again and again. “Goddamn” he murmured, his voice thick with awe and lust, “just look at you.”

He couldn’t help himself, his hands roaming over your waist and back before sliding back to cup the roundness of your ass. He spread your cheeks apart slightly, his thumbs grazing your skin as he watched himself disappear inside you, the sight driving him wild. “Fuck” he groaned, his grip tightening. “Your ass looks incredible like this.”

The raw appreciation in his tone made you move more, confidence growing with every word of praise. You rolled your hips, adjusting the angle to take him even deeper, and the effect was immediate. His sharp inhale and the low curse he muttered sent a thrill through you, spurring you on.

“You feel so damn good” he rasped, his voice rough with desire. His warm hands traveled up to your waist, wrapping around you firmly as he began to meet your movements with upward thrusts, burying himself even harder and deeper. The slick sounds of your bodies moving together filled the room, accompanied by his low groans and your breathy moans.

“Fuck fuck fuck “ he growled, his voice breaking with raw need. “I can’t get enough of this pussy.” His hands returned to your ass, spreading you wider to take him fully, the sight of your stretched entrance swallowing his girthy length repeatedly making his restraint fray. “This feels so fucking good oh my go-“ you moan out, gripping his ankles.

The angle, the intensity, the way his hands guided you—it all combined into a dizzying blend of pleasure that left you utterly undone, completely lost in the rhythm you shared. His words were a heady mix of filth and reverence, fueling the fire building deep within you.

He moved with an intensity, his pace quickening as he drove into you hard, each powerful thrust echoing through your body. The rhythmic sound of your bodies meeting filled the room once again, a heady mix of his labored breathing, deep groans of pleasure, and the unmistakable slickness of your shared desire. His grip on your hips tightened possessively, his fingers digging into your skin as if anchoring himself to the moment.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum so deep inside you” he growled, his voice rough and low, thick with need. The promise sent a shiver through you, igniting something primal as you moved together, his hips rising to meet each of your movements in perfect synchronization. “Keep going like that, yes” he commanded, his tone leaving no room for hesitation. “Don’t stop until I tell you to.”

Your body obeyed instinctively, the rhythm growing more urgent as the tension between you built. The impact of your bodies meeting sent so much pleasure through you, your chest heaving as your breasts moved with every motion. The heat between you burned hotter, his body taut beneath yours as his control began to stray. You could feel him getting closer with every deep, purposeful thrust, his need pushing you both toward the inevitable.

“Take it all baby. Fuck, I wish you could see how good you look right now” he growled, his voice rough with a mix of desire and command. His eyes locked into you as he watched your body move against him, the sight of you bouncing on his dick driving him to the brink of madness. The way your tight walls clenched around him was almost too much, pulling him deeper into a haze of pure, unrelenting need.

He felt your release building, the way your body trembled and tightened betraying just how close you were. “Not yet” he murmured, his voice strained, though it was as much for himself as it was for you. He was holding on by a thread, the fire in his core threatening to erupt. Truthfully, he’d been on the edge since he got you into this position, but he refused to give in just yet. He wanted to savor every second, knowing there were still so many rounds to come.

He leaned forward slightly, his lips brushing your ear as he rasped, “Keep going Y/n. Don’t stop. I know you can”

The raw command in his tone sent a shiver through you, spurring you on.

His hands moved over your body eagerly, fingers digging into the soft flesh of your sides as if anchoring you to him. He explored every inch of you with reverence and hunger—tracing the curve of your thighs, squeezing your waist, sliding his hands up to press against your stomach as if trying to pull you closer, impossibly close, onto his throbbing dick. His breathing turned ragged, his words dissolving into guttural grunts as he fought to hold back, desperate to let this moment stretch out just a little longer.

Finally, with a raw, loud, groan of pleasure, he gave in to his climax, his body shuddering as his release overtook him. His dick pulsed deep inside you, each wave of ecstasy pouring into your trembling pussy. His arms locked around you with a possessive intensity, holding you firmly in place as he emptied himself into your eagerly waiting depths, refusing to let even an inch of space separate you.

For a moment, time stilled. His chest heaved against your back, his ragged breaths hot against your skin as he stayed buried inside you, savoring the aftershocks of pleasure that rippled through both of you. His grip on your waist softened slightly, shifting into something more tender, his hands brushing over your skin as though grounding himself in the intimacy of the moment.

He pressed his face into your hair, the scent of you pulling a low, satisfied hum from deep in his chest. “Damn” he murmured softly, his lips grazing the back of your neck as he nuzzled closer. “I fucking love you, Y/N,” he confessed, his voice laced with both affection and raw desire.

His arms remained wrapped around you, holding you close as the heat between you lingered, neither of you willing to break the connection just yet.

Time washed away, each moment blending into the next until you collapsed against his chest, your skin slick with the lingering heat of passion. His arm wrapped around you, his fingers lazily tracing soft circles along your back as you rested your head against him. His heart beat steadily beneath your cheek, a soothing rhythm that grounded you in the aftermath of the whirlwind you’d just shared.

He pressed a lingering kiss to your forehead, his lips warm and gentle. “Best birthday yet?” you asked, your voice low and slightly drowsy but still tinged with that familiar mischievous edge.

He let out a satisfied hum, nuzzling against him. “Definitely. Though I’ve decided—next year, I’m getting my gift first.”

Your soft laugh rumbled through his chest, and you felt the vibration as much as you heard it. “We’ll see about that, love. You might have to pop a few viagra next year.”

You couldn’t help but grin, your eyelids growing heavy as the warmth of his body and the sound of his voice lulled you to the edge of sleep. “Viagra or not , now you’re stuck with this old man.”

“And I wouldn’t have it any other way,” you murmured, your voice a soft promise as he held you close, the city lights casting a gentle glow over the two of you.

[snowseasonmademe]

All up in Your Mind

warning ‼️: smut

word count: 3,116

pairing: lewis hamilton x black female reader

summary: lewis is obsessed with you and you love driving him crazy

tag list: @sucredreamer @irishmanwhore @whoevenisthiz @iamquiantrelle @dexastres @coffeevacation @goldenngt @btslover117 @kennasutopia @jessnotwiththemess

note: bae @irishmanwhore wanted this one too yall. say thanks everyone!!!!! she has great ideas :) this one was very fun to write, lewis is lowkey subby in this just a little bit. as always, enjoy and tell me what you think🤍!!!!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lewis sat at the head of the long conference table, his crisp black suit doing little to mask the heat simmering beneath his skin. His team was discussing strategy—sponsors, contracts, logistics—but every word went in one ear and out the other. All he could think about was you.

You had consumed his every thought since the night before. He should’ve known better than to let you out of his sight on that red carpet. You were untouchable, and radiant, your confidence commanding every room you walked into. In a crimson gown that hugged every curve just right, you moved like you knew you were the only one anyone could see. And you knew exactly what you were doing to him.

“Don’t stare too hard baby” you had teased as you leaned in close during the event, your lips brushing the shell of his ear, your fingers grazing his chest in a way that set his nerves on fire. “You know how easily… excited you get.”

As if he could help himself. Your sultry glances, the way you whispered wicked things into his ear when no one else could hear, the brush of your fingers along his thigh under the table—it had been pure torture. By the time you got home late that night, he was ready to claim you, but you had been too tired, and he had that early meeting to prepare for.

Now here he was, sitting in a room full of people, barely able to breathe because all he could see was you. The way you smiled. The confidence in your stride. The way you had whispered jokingly, “It’s like I’m the only thing on your mind”

But it was true. It wasn’t a joke. It was the truth.

Lewis exhaled sharply, gripping the edge of the table as he shifted in his seat, his mind nowhere near the conversation happening around him. His team continued talking, numbers and projections flying across the room, but he couldn’t focus. Not when flashes of the night before kept playing in his mind—how effortlessly you had owned that red carpet, how your dress clung to your body in a way that made his mouth go dry, how you had leaned in close, whispering filth in his ear like you weren’t in a room full of cameras and flashing lights.

You had done it on purpose, of course. You always did. It was a game to you, watching how long he could last before he cracked, before he stopped caring who was around and dragged you somewhere private. But last night, he hadn’t had that luxury. You had teased him relentlessly, dancing just out of his reach, smirking over the rim of your champagne glass while he sat there, jaw clenched, hands fisted in his lap, hard as fuck beneath the table while the whole world watched.

And then, to make it worse, you had denied him. Had kissed him sweetly, stripped out of that sinful dress in front of him, and then crawled into bed with a yawn and a soft, “Goodnight baby” Like you hadn’t just spent the whole evening torturing him. Like you hadn’t left him lying awake for hours, painfully hard, fists clenched in the sheets, gritting his teeth because he couldn’t even touch himself—not when the only thing that would satisfy him was you.

You knew exactly what you had done. And judging by the way you had left that little message in his ear before disappearing into the crowd last night, you had known he’d be thinking about you today. You had wanted this. Wanted him distracted, restless, aching for you while he sat through his meetings, barely able to function.

His phone buzzed in his lap, and for the first time since he walked into the boardroom, Lewis moved fast. He glanced down, breath hitching at your name on the screen.

You: Bet you’re struggling.

His jaw tightened. You were so fucking smug.

Lewis: You have no idea.

You: Oh, I do.

You: Poor baby. So hard at work.

You: Or just hard?

His breath left him in a sharp exhale. His grip on the phone tightened as his other hand curled into a fist beneath the table. You were evil. He knew it, and yet, he still couldn’t get enough of you.

Lewis: You’re a fucking menace.

You: And yet, you love me.

Yeah. He did. And you knew it.

Lewis: You knew what you were doing last night.

You: Maybe I did. What’s on your mind?

He smirked, shaking his head. You always knew exactly how to get under his skin—in the best way.

Lewis: You. You’re all I’m thinking about.

You: I figured.

He stared at your response, his chest tightening. Of course, you figured. You always knew.

Lewis: The way you looked last night. The way you touched me.

You: Oh lol, you mean the way I teased you all night and then fell asleep the moment we got home?

Lewis: Exactly that.

You: Poor baby.

Lewis groaned softly, earning a curious glance from his manager across the table. He gave a quick, apologetic nod before typing again.

Lewis: Just wait until I get home.

There was a long pause before your reply came through.

You: You’ll have to catch me first.

His jaw tightened, a slow smile tugging at the corner of his lips. You were playing with him, and he loved every second of it.

The moment the meeting ended, Lewis was out of the building, his car tearing down the road at a pace just shy of reckless. His pulse raced as he thought about you waiting for him, probably grinning to yourself because you knew exactly how wound up he was.

When he finally stepped through the door, you were there, leaning casually against the kitchen counter, wearing one of his oversized shirts and nothing else. Your legs were bare, and the smile on your lips was nothing short of sinful.

“You made good time” you teased, tilting your head as you watched him.

“You’re a problem” he muttered, dropping his keys and crossing the room in a few long strides.

“A good one though” you replied, your tone light and playful as your fingers danced up his chest.

“The best kind” His voice was low and strained.

You smiled up at him, your hands sliding around his neck as you whispered, “Last night, all I wanted was you”

“Then why’d you fall asleep on me?” he teased, but his voice was thick with affection, his hands gripping your waist as he pulled you closer.

“Because I like driving you crazy” you admitted with a sly grin. “And I knew you’d be thinking about me all day today”

He didn’t respond. Instead, he kissed you, his mouth crashing into yours in a way that made you gasp. His hands roamed your body with a hunger he didn’t bother to hide, pulling you flush against him as he deepened the kiss. You smiled into it, your fingers sliding into his hair and tugging just enough to make him groan.

“You’ve been torturing me” he murmured against your lips, his voice dark and thick with need.

“Mm, I know” you said, laughing softly as you pressed your body closer to his. “You love it though”

“Too much” he admitted, lifting you onto the counter in one smooth motion. His lips found your neck, his hands sliding up your thighs as you tilted your head back to give him more access.

“Keep this up” you teased, your voice breathy but still playful, “I might start thinking you can’t get enough of me”

“I can’t” he growled, his hands tightening on your hips as his lips moved lower.

Your laughter filled the air, rich and warm and utterly intoxicating. You cupped his face, forcing him to look up at you, and the heat in your eyes made his breath catch.

You didn’t rush. You wanted him desperate, aching, teetering on the edge before you gave him what he wanted.

Lewis stood there, watching you, chest rising and falling with heavy breaths as you stepped back, your fingers trailing down his torso. His shirt was —somehow— already undone, exposing the warm, golden brown of his skin, the way the ink of his tattoos contrasted beautifully against it. He was everything—gorgeous, sculpted, utterly wrecked for you, and you hadn’t even really touched him yet.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” he murmured, voice low and strained, a teasing smirk ghosting his lips.

“You like when I stare” you countered, letting your hands wander, sliding over the tight muscles of his abdomen, tracing the lines of his inked skin.

He let out a shaky breath when you kissed along his collarbone, your tongue flicking out to taste the salt of his skin. “Yeah” he admitted, barely above a whisper, his hands tightening on your waist. “I like it.”

You smirked against his skin before pressing one last kiss to the hollow of his throat, then, without warning, you grabbed him by the belt and started walking him backward toward the bedroom.

Lewis let you. He let you take the lead, let you push him through the doorway and toward the bed, though you could feel the way his muscles tensed, the restraint in his grip. He was holding himself back, letting you play your game, but you knew—eventually, he’d snap. He always did.

“Turn around” you whispered when you reached the edge of the bed.

His eyes darkened, but he obeyed, letting you push him down so he sat on the mattress. His hands immediately found your thighs as you stepped between them, his touch firm, warm, possessive. You dragged your nails lightly up his chest, taking in the way his breath hitched.

You kissed him slowly at first, savoring the taste of him, the warmth of his mouth against yours. Then you deepened it, pushing him back until he was lying beneath you, your body pressing flush against his. His hands roamed over you, sliding under your shirt, up your back, fingers digging in like he needed to feel every inch of you.

You pulled away just long enough to strip your top off, and Lewis groaned, eyes locked onto you like he couldn’t get enough. His hands immediately covered your bare skin, smoothing over your waist, up to your breasts, his thumbs flicking over your nipples in a way that made your stomach tighten with anticipation.

“Mmm” he hummed, mostly to himself, before his lips found your skin again. He kissed his way down your neck, over your collarbone, then lower, his mouth hot and open against your chest.

You let your head fall back, exhaling sharply when he dragged his tongue over your skin, his stubble leaving a faint burn in its wake. “Lewis” you breathed, rolling your hips against him, feeling the way he hardened beneath you.

He groaned, the sound deep and broken. “You feel what you do to me?”

You nodded, biting your lip as you reached between you, palming him through his pants. He was so hard already, twitching under your touch, and the way his head tipped back, the way his lips parted as he let out a breathy moan—it made heat coil low in your belly.

“You’re not very patient” you teased, undoing his belt, popping open the button of his slacks.

His gaze snapped back to you, his hands gripping your hips tight. “Not when it comes to you”

You kissed him again, swallowing his groan as you slid his pants and boxers down all the way off. He was thick and heavy in your hand, leaking already, and you loved knowing you’d done that to him.

He let out a shaky breath as you wrapped your fingers around him, stroking slowly, teasingly. His grip on your hips tightened, his body tensing beneath you. “Don’t start something you’re not ready to finish”

You smirked, kissing the corner of his mouth. “Who says I’m not ready?”

You dragged pussy along his length, letting him feel just how wet you were, and the way he groaned—low and rough and wrecked—made your stomach tighten in anticipation.

“Fuck, baby don’t tease me” he muttered, voice strained.

“Why not?” you purred, rocking your hips just enough to drive him insane.

“Because if you don’t sit on my dick in the next ten seconds, I’m flipping you over and handling it myself”

You knew he meant it. And while you loved pushing his buttons, you wanted him just as badly.

So you sank down onto him slowly, letting him stretch you open inch by inch. His hands shot to your thighs, gripping them hard, his moan deep and broken as he filled you completely.

“Jesus—fuck—” His head pressed back against the pillows, his eyes squeezing shut for a moment before snapping back open to watch you.

You rolled your hips in slow, deliberate circles, dragging out every inch of him, making him feel every slick, tight squeeze of your body around his. It was torturous—exactly how you wanted it.

“That’s it baby” you purred, your nails grazing down his chest, tracing over the tattoos you knew he loved having your hands on. “Let me hear you”

And fuck, did he. A deep, shuddering moan tore from his throat, his head tilting back against the pillows as his hands tightened on your hips. He was trying to stay still, trying to let you set the pace, but you could feel the way his muscles tensed beneath your palms, the way his fingers flexed against your skin like he was barely holding on.

“You feel so fucking good” he groaned, voice thick with arousal. His grip tightened, like he wanted to take control, but he didn’t. Not yet. He loved this—watching you move, letting you take what you wanted, needing you so bad it made him ache.

You leaned forward, pressing your hands against his chest for leverage as you rolled your hips a little faster, grinding down against him in a way that made his breath catch. “You’re obsessed with me, aren’t you?”

His hands slid up your back, one tangling in your hair, the other pressing against the small of your back to keep you close. “I am” he admitted, his voice wrecked.

“Say it” you murmured against his lips, teasing, demanding.

His jaw clenched, his chest rising and falling beneath you. He let out a shuddering breath, eyes locked onto yours, raw and desperate. “I’m fucking obsessed with you”

The confession sent a rush of heat through your body, making your thighs tremble as you clenched around him. His head dropped back, a strangled moan escaping his throat as he felt it, as your body squeezed him tight and hot and dripping wet.

“Shit, baby” he groaned, his fingers pressing hard into your skin as he squirmed in pleasure beneath you. “You keep doing that and I won’t last.”

You smirked, leaning down to lick across his collarbone, your tongue tracing the ink on his chest, the tattoos he loved when you worshipped. He shuddered beneath you, letting out a sharp exhale, his hands moving restlessly over your body like he couldn’t get enough.

You pressed a slow, teasing kiss to his lips, moving against him in deep, rolling thrusts, grinding your clit against the base of his cock every time you came down on him. His moans were getting louder, more broken, his hands gripping your hips like he was right on the edge of losing it.

And then, just as you expected, he snapped.

With a rough growl, Lewis’s hands clamped down on your hips, fingers digging in almost bruisingly, and suddenly, he was slamming up into you. Hard. Fast. Desperate.

You gasped, your hands flying up to grip the headboard as he took over, fucking into you like he had no choice, like he needed it to survive.

“Lewis—fuck!” you cried out, your body jolting with every powerful thrust, your back arching as he drove deeper, harder.

“I tried” he gritted out between thrusts, his voice thick and wrecked. “Tried to let you have control, but fuck baby, I need you so bad”

You moaned helplessly, nails raking down his chest, leaving red streaks over his inked skin. “Yes—fuck—just like that baby”

His jaw clenched, his dark eyes locked onto yours, wild and hungry and completely, utterly gone for you. “Uuhh I fucking love this pussy”

You nodded frantically, your pleasure climbing unbearably fast. “Mmmmm” you moan loudly and desperately, not able to properly respond.

Lewis groaned, the sound breaking into something close to a whimper as he fucked into you harder, rougher, his hips snapping up to meet every grind of your body against him. You could feel how deep he was, how perfectly he stretched you, how completely he filled you, it was too good.

His fingers found your clit, rubbing tight, relentless circles, pushing you higher and higher, making your thighs shake as the pleasure coiled tight in your stomach, ready to snap.

“You’re gonna cum for me” he rasped, his voice shaking, his thrusts turning erratic. “Come on, baby. Give it to me.”

The moment his lips brushed your ear, whispering, “Let me feel it” you shattered.

Your orgasm crashed over you like a tidal wave, stealing the air from your lungs, making you cry out his name as your whole body trembled. You clenched around him, squeezing so tight that he cursed, his hips stuttering as he lost himself completely.

With a strangled groan, Lewis slammed up into you one last time, burying himself deep as he came, his moan breaking apart into breathless, desperate sounds against your skin.

For a long moment, neither of you moved, both struggling to catch your breath, the only sound in the room your ragged breathing and the faint hum of the city outside.

Then, finally, Lewis let out a soft, breathless laugh, his arms wrapping tightly around you, pulling you down against his chest. “Fucking hell” he muttered.

You smirked, pressing a lazy kiss to his jaw. “That good, huh?”

His hands smoothed down your back, his fingers tracing slow, absentminded circles against your skin. “You have no idea”

You grinned, completely satisfied, completely spent. “I have a pretty good idea”

Then you collapsed against his chest, pressing lazy kisses along his damp skin, feeling the rapid thump of his heart.

He let out a shaky laugh, arms wrapping tightly around you. “You’re gonna kill me one of these days”

You smirked, tracing a finger over one of his tattoos. “You’d die happy though.”

He groaned, tilting your chin up to kiss you slow and deep. “Ecstatic.”

note : j'ai une fic d'aurélien à venir pour vous tous le jour de la saint-valentin!

[snowseasonmademe]

Dance for you

warning ‼️: smut

word count: 7,011

paring: aurelien x black female reader

summary: after months and months of your man asking you to give him a lap dance, you decide his birthday was the perfect time to show him your appreciation

note: when i tell yall i had to take SEVERAL break to breath when i was writing this. it was an intense writing process but i made it out alive. with that being said prepare yourselves. if your ovulating im sorry and you’re welcome. as always enjoy and tell me what you think❤️‍🔥!!!

The night had been electric from the moment he walked through the door. The sound of his keys jingling in the lock made your heart race, but nothing could have prepared you for the sight of him when he stepped inside. His tall, broad frame filled the doorway, his fitted black shirt straining slightly against his shoulders and arms, his chest rising and falling with steady breaths. You almost lost yours. The way his big arms flexed as he shrugged off his jacket, the sharp line of his jaw, and the way his dark eyes immediately locked onto you—it all made your mouth water. You felt arousal building already as you took him in, your fingers clenching at your sides to stop yourself from running to him.

“Happy birthday baby” you greeted, stepping closer, your voice a little breathless. You tilted your head up, your lips curving into a sultry smile as you placed a slow, lingering kiss on his cheek, your mouth brushing the corner of his lips ever so slightly. His eyes flickered down to you, drinking in the way your navy blue satin slip dress hugged your curves, and you saw the telltale twitch of his jaw.

“Merci ma belle” he murmured, his voice deep and smooth, laced with something that made your pulse skip. His large hand settled on your waist, his thumb brushing the fabric of your dress. “I think this might be the best part of my day already.”

You smiled, taking his hand and leading him toward the table, where the soft glow of candlelight and the scent of the dinner you’d prepared created an intimate atmosphere. He pulled out your chair for you before taking his seat across from you, the weight of his gaze making you feel like you were the only thing in the room.

As you ate, the tension grew thicker with every passing moment. His hand, strong and warm, found its way to your knee under the table, squeezing gently as his thumb traced circles on your skin. Each touch sent little sparks through your body, your skin tingling where his fingers lingered.

You decided to push him just a little further, teasingly sucking on your fork as you finished your bite of food, your lips wrapping around the tines a bit too slowly, a bit too purposefully. His hand tightened on your knee, his grip just shy of bruising. When you glanced up at him through your lashes, you saw the fire in his eyes, his gaze fixed on your lips.

“Tu fais exprès” (You’re doing this on purpose) he growled lowly, shaking his head slightly, though the corners of his lips twitched like he couldn’t help but find your antics amusing.

You tilted your head and smiled innocently, running your fingers over the rim of your wine glass. But the truth was, you weren’t just teasing him for fun. As you watched him lick his lips and drag his gaze over your chest, lingering on your cleavage, one thought burned in your mind: I want to treat him like how I’m treating this fork. The idea sent a thrill through you, and you shifted slightly in your chair, the tension between your legs growing unbearable.

When you stood to take Zeus to his room, you caught the way his eyes followed you, burning into the hem of your dress. You bent over to scoop the dog up into your arms, the movement making your dress ride up slightly, exposing a peek of the lace lingerie you’d picked out for the night. Aurelien’s sharp intake of breath didn’t go unnoticed, and when you straightened up and glanced back, you caught him licking his lips, his dark gaze glued to you like he was imagining tearing that dress off you.

By the time you came back, expecting him to still be at the table, you found his chair empty. Confused, you turned toward the living room and found him there instead, stretched out on the couch, his legs spread wide, his head resting lazily on his hand. His shirt was unbuttoned a little more now, exposing the lines of his collarbone and a hint of his chest. The look in his eyes when he saw you was enough to make your knees weak—pure heat, pure want.

“Come here baby” he said, his voice soft but commanding, sending a shiver down your spine.

You hesitated for a second, unsure if you could handle what was radiating off him, but then he held out a hand, his lips curling into a slow, wicked grin. “I said come here”

You stepped toward him, your bare feet sinking into the carpet, your breath hitching as his hand wrapped around your wrist and tugged you closer. “You’ve been driving me crazy since I got back home” he murmured, his deep voice like a growl as he pulled you down to straddle his lap. His hands found your waist, sliding over the silk of your dress, squeezing as he guided you closer.

“You like it when I tease you, hm?” you asked softly, your voice a breathy whisper as you leaned in, your lips hovering over his.

“I like it when you give me what I want” he replied, his tone dark, his grip on your hips tightening as he ground you against him. His eyes locked with yours, burning with an intensity that made your head spin. “And right now, I want you to finish what you started.”

Your lips curved into a smirk as you leaned down, brushing your mouth against his ear. “Oh, I plan to” you whispered, and from the way his hands flexed on your body, you knew the rest of the night was going to be unforgettable.

Aurelien had been asking for months, his requests slipping into conversations with that teasing grin and low, coaxing voice. “When are you going to give me a lap dance bébé?” he’d ask, his hands running up and down your thighs as you sat on his lap, his tone playful yet loaded with heat. You’d always laugh it off, playfully rolling your eyes or brushing him off with a quick, “Maybe one day, if you’re lucky.” But it wasn’t because you didn’t want to—oh, you absolutely did. The thought of his big hands on you, his dark eyes drinking you in, had crossed your mind far too often.

Still, you made him wait, teasing him just enough to keep that fire alive, wanting the moment to be perfect. Tonight, with the intimacy of his birthday dinner, the tension hanging heavy in the air, and the way he couldn’t keep his hands off you or his eyes away, you knew it was finally time.

When he pulled you onto his lap earlier and whispered, to you that you knew what he wanted, it had only made your feelings stronger. He didn’t know it yet, but you were about to give him exactly what he’d been asking for—and more. The idea of surprising him, of finally breaking that anticipation, had your pulse racing and your skin tingling with nerves and excitement.

You slipped off his lap and took a few steps toward the counter on the far side of the room. Aurelien’s gaze followed you immediately, his expression a mix of curiosity and intensity. He leaned back further on the couch, his shirt now even more undone, exposing more of his chest and the defined lines of his collarbone. His legs were spread wide, taking up space, and his arms stretched lazily across the back of the couch, exuding confidence and control. He looked utterly relaxed, yet his dark eyes stayed locked on you with a heat that made your stomach flip.

The satisfied but dominant tilt of his smile made you bite your lip as you reached for your phone and connected it to the nearby speaker. The first sultry notes of Beyoncé’s “Dance for You” poured into the room, low and seductive, filling the space between you with a simmering tension that matched the fire in his gaze.

His smirk deepened, his eyes flickering with recognition as he shifted slightly on the couch, his fingers tapping against the cushion like he couldn’t wait another second. “Je savais que tu finirais par céder” (I knew you’d give in eventually) he murmured, his voice low and teasing, though there was an edge of anticipation in his tone.

You turned to face him, the soft light of the room highlighting the satin of your dress as it clung to your curves. You were nervous—your heart raced in your chest, and your palms were damp with excitement and a little fear—but you were also confident. Confident in the way his eyes raked over you like he couldn’t look away, in the way his body tensed, his muscles taut as though he were holding himself back.

The lights in the living room were dim, the air thick with the scent of vanilla and amber from the candles you had lit earlier. The soft glow cast shadows across the space, flickering over the deep brown leather of the couch, the sleek wooden floors, and the expensive glass of whiskey resting on the table beside Aurelien’s hand.

The only sound in the room was the steady bass of the music playing from the speakers, a sultry, hypnotic beat that filled the air like smoke. Beyoncé’s voice crooned through the space, velvet and honey, setting the mood as you stood in front of him, barefoot, feeling completely vulnerable.

Aurelien sat comfortably on the couch, his long legs spread wide, his back sinking into the plush cushions. His shirt was revealing the golden brown of his skin, his muscular chest rising and falling with steady, controlled breaths. His dark eyes were locked onto you, intense, expectant, drinking you in like a man ready to devour.

He brought the whiskey glass to his lips, taking a slow sip before setting it down, his tongue flicking out to catch a stray drop of amber liquid. He tilted his head slightly, a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth as he dragged his gaze over your body.

“Go ahead chérie” he murmured, voice low, thick with anticipation. “Show me”

Your heart pounded in your chest, but there was no hesitation in your movements. You wanted this. Wanted him watching you, wanted him starving for you. The way he looked at you alone sent heat pooling between your thighs.

Slowly, you let your hands glide over the smooth satin of your dress, fingertips trailing down your waist as you felt his eyes burning into you. The navy blue fabric shimmered softly under the candlelight, clinging to your body like it had been made just for you. The plunging neckline framed your chest perfectly, and the high slit on one side revealed teasing flashes of your thighs as you shifted your weight.

With calculated movements, you reached for the thin straps on your shoulders, sliding one down slowly, then the other, letting the tension build. The dress loosened, slipping down your body inch by inch, the cool air brushing over your skin as more of it became exposed. The satin slid over your curves like a whisper before pooling at your feet, leaving you standing before him in nothing but a delicate navy blue lace thong.

The room seemed to go silent, except for the soft sound of the music in the background. His eyes raked over you, dark and full of heat, lingering on every inch of bare skin you had revealed. His jaw tensed, and his lips parted slightly, as though he were about to say something but couldn’t find the words. The hunger in his gaze made your skin tingle, your confidence growing with every second of his silence.

The soft lace sat low on your hips, the intricate design accentuating the curve of your body. The dim light played off your skin, illuminating every subtle dip and line. You stood tall, nerves simmering beneath the surface, but your confidence unwavering as you let him take in the sight of you. His chest rose and fell a little faster now, his grip on the back of the couch tightening as if he needed to ground himself. The dominance he exuded earlier was still there, but now it was mixed with something deeper, something raw and unfiltered.

You walked to him and sat right on his lap, grabbing his face to make him look into your eyes. Aurelien exhaled sharply, his jaw tightening, his fingers flexing where they rested on his thighs. His eyes darkened, heavy-lidded with lust as he took you in—the smooth curve of your hips, the soft swell of your breasts, the way your skin glowed under the dim light.

You turned around slowly, giving him the full view of your backside, your hips swaying to the slow rhythm of the song. His breath hitched slightly, barely audible over the music, but you caught it.

And it made you bolder.

You placed your hands on your thighs, bending slightly as you rolled your hips in slow, fluid circles. The lace of your thong barely covered anything, the movement only making it more obvious how much you wanted him, how wet you were already.

You glanced over your shoulder, meeting his gaze as you reached back to drag your hands up the length of your body, over your ass, your waist, your breasts. Aurelien’s lips parted, his tongue swiping across the bottom one, his expression hungry.

He wanted to touch. You could see it in the way his fingers twitched, in the way his knuckles flexed. But he stayed still, watching, waiting, letting you tease him.

You turned back around, your steps sensual. You placed your hands on his broad shoulders, straddling his lap, settling yourself over the hard length pressing against his slacks.

Aurelien exhaled sharply through his nose, his fingers digging into his thighs as he fought the urge to grab you. You could feel the heat radiating from his body, the tension in his muscles as you rolled your hips against him, dragging yourself over his dick through the fabric of his pants.

“You like that baby?” you purred, your lips grazing the shell of his ear as you rocked against him.

His jaw clenched, his hands gripping the edge of the couch, his self-control hanging by a thread. “You know I do” he rasped.

You leaned back slightly, giving him a perfect view of your body as you moved, your hips undulating in slow, mesmerizing circles. The friction was intoxicating, the feel of him, hard beneath you making you ache, making your clit throb with need.

Aurelien’s breathing was uneven now, his pupils blown wide as he watched you, his hands still clenched at his sides. He wanted to touch—God, he wanted to touch—but he was letting you have control, letting you drive him to the brink.

You reached between your bodies, palming him through his slacks, feeling the heat and hardness of him beneath your fingers. His body jerked slightly at the contact, a low growl rumbling in his chest.

“You’re so hard for me” you murmured, your fingers tracing the outline of his dick through the fabric, your other hand reaching for the button of his pants. “Let me take care of you.”

Aurelien exhaled harshly, his restraint snapping as he grabbed your wrists, stopping your movements. His grip was firm but not rough, his dark eyes locking onto yours with a heat that sent shivers down your spine.

“Not yet” he said, voice thick with need. “I want to watch you a little longer”

A slow, wicked smile spread across your lips. You leaned in, pressing a lingering kiss to the corner of his mouth before pulling back just enough to meet his gaze.

“Then watch me”

You slid off his lap, sinking to your knees between his legs, your hands running up the inside of his thighs, your nails dragging lightly over the fabric. His breath hitched, his eyes following your every movement, his chest rising and falling with uneven breaths.

You undid his belt slowly, teasingly, before unzipping his pants and freeing him. His dick sprang free, thick, heavy, the tip already glistening with pre-cum. You licked your lips, your mouth watering at the sight of him.

Aurelien’s fingers tangled in your hair as you leaned in, your breath warm against his skin. You pressed a slow, open-mouthed kiss to his tip, flicking your tongue over him just enough to tease.

His grip on your hair tightened, a low, guttural groan spilling from his lips.

Your lips hovered over his thick length, and for a moment, you just stared, letting the anticipation build. The heat radiating off his body made your thighs press together, trying to contain the arousal dripping down your skin. Slowly, you leaned forward, dragging your lips and tongue over the strong muscles of his thighs. You bit down lightly, the sharpness of your teeth making him hiss, his hips jerking slightly in response.

“Bébé…” he warned, his voice a deep, gravelly sound that only spurred you on. You smirked, placing one more teasing bite higher up, just shy of where he needed you most.

Finally, you wrapped your hand around his dick, marveling at how hard and heavy he felt in your grip. Your fingers barely closed around his girth, and the veins that ran along his length pulsed under your touch. He twitched in your hand as you gave a few slow and the way his pre-cum beaded at the tip made your mouth water.

You leaned in, your tongue darting out to taste him, swirling around the head. The slightly salty, musky taste of him filled your senses, and a quiet moan escaped your lips as you licked down his length, savoring every ridge and vein. Your hands gripped the base firmly as you slid your tongue along the underside, your saliva mixing with the slickness of his arousal, making him glisten in the dim light.

As you finally took him into your mouth, his breath hitched audibly. You worked him slowly, savoring the weight of him on your tongue, the way his dick stretched your lips. The veins pressed against your tongue with every stroke, every bob of your head, and his taste coated your mouth, intoxicating you.

You glanced up at him, wanting to see his reaction, but his head was thrown back against the couch, his lips parted in a low, guttural moan. His hands rested gently on your braids, his fingers flexing every so often as though he were trying to keep his composure. The sight of him like that—completely undone, his chest rising and falling with uneven breaths—only made you want to please him more.

Your pace quickened, and the wet sounds of your mouth filled the room, mingling with the soft groans spilling from his lips. His thighs tensed beneath your hands as you dug your nails into his skin, steadying yourself. His dick throbbed on your tongue, and every groan, every twitch of his hips only made the ache between your own legs more unbearable. You could feel your arousal dripping down your thighs, pooling beneath you as your own need grew with every second.

The muscles in his abdomen tightened, and his fingers gripped your hair a little more firmly, guiding you, though still letting you lead. His restraint was slipping, and you could feel how much he wanted to lose himself in you. When you pulled back slightly, swirling your tongue around the head before taking him deep again, a strained “Fuck” fell from his lips, his hips bucking involuntarily.

This was where you wanted him—completely at your mercy, unable to control the raw need coursing through his body. And yet, as you hollowed your cheeks and took him deeper, you couldn’t ignore how much it turned you on to see him like this. Pleasing him, feeling his pleasure in every tense muscle and low groan, made the fire in your own body burn hotter, consuming you from the inside out.

“Shit” he growled, his fingers flexing. “You feel so fucking good”

You hummed around him, the vibration making him curse under his breath. His hips twitched, his restraint slipping, his need to fuck your mouth growing stronger.

But just as he was about to lose himself, you pulled off him with a wicked smirk, licking your lips as you met his dazed, lust-filled gaze.

“I think I teased you long enough” you purred, climbing back onto his lap, your hips brushing against his. You leaned in close, your breath warm against his ear as your fingers trailed up his chest. “Are you ready for me baby?”

Aurelien’s eyes darkened instantly, his grip on your hips tightening with a bruising force. He tilted his head back just slightly, a slow, dangerous smirk spreading across his face. His deep voice rumbled in your ear, low and dripping with dominance.

“Ready for you?” he rasped, his tone sharp and commanding as his hands slid down to grip the curve of your ass. “No bébé. The real question is, are you ready for me?”

Before you could respond, he moved with the kind of power and control that always left you breathless. In one fluid motion, he flipped you onto your back, pinning you beneath him. His hands gripped your thighs firmly, spreading them apart as he hovered over you, his gaze searing into yours.

“I’ve been waiting for this all night” he murmured, his voice dropping even lower as he ran his hand along the inside of your thigh, brushing against your soaked lace. You couldn’t speak. All that confidence you just had flew out the window. All you could do is moan in response.

His lips crashed against yours, possessive and demanding, as he pressed his body into yours. The real game had just begun, and it was clear he intended to leave you completely at his mercy.

Aurélien’s lips crashed yours, hungry and demanding, his hands gripping your waist. The memory of you as you moved in sync with the slow, sensual beat of the music. The way you rocked your hips against his clothed hardness, your body pressing against him with each grind, had him barely holding on to control. His dark eyes were locked onto your body—your breasts swaying in front of his face, your skin glowing under the dim lights—making him harder than he thought possible.

His fingers trailed down between your thighs, pushing your panties aside, and the moment his fingers slid against your drenched folds, he groaned, deep and primal. “Fuck,” he murmured against your neck, his voice thick with need. “You’re so wet for me.”

A needy whimper escaped your lips as you clutched at his shoulders. “Mm, yes… please, touch me” you pleaded, voice breathless, body trembling with anticipation.

Aurélien smirked against your skin, spreading your slick over your clit and down your folds, teasing you with almost effortless strokes. His lips never left your body, kissing and biting his way down your neck and chest, leaving a trail of heat in his wake. Open-mouthed kisses, sharp nips, his tongue tracing patterns on your skin—he worshiped you with his mouth, making sure no inch was left untouched.

But patience was never his strong suit. With a growl, he sat up, yanking his shirt over his head, revealing his sculpted torso, muscles tensed with restraint. His hand wrapped around his thick, pulsing length, stroking himself slowly as he pushed your knees toward your chest with his other, spreading you wide open for him.

“Look at you” he murmured, dragging his tip along your soaked, soft slit, teasing, taunting. He took his time, watching you squirm beneath him, your body begging to be filled. His gaze locked with yours, dark and intense, and finally—finally—he pushed in, the stretch making your breath hitch.

Aurélien usually started slow, knowing you needed time to adjust to his size, but tonight? He couldn’t hold back. A deep groan rumbled in his chest as he began moving, his strokes steady but urgent, each thrust sending shivers through your body. His grip on your legs tightened, pushing your knees further back as he drove deeper.

“Tu me prends toujours si bien, putain” (You always take me so well, fuck) he rasped. His hands roamed your body, gripping, claiming, dominating. His lips crashed into yours again, swallowing your moans as he fucked you with unrelenting intensity, your bodies lost in the rhythm of desire.

Both of his strong hands gripped your knees, spreading you open as he thrust into you with a smooth, effortless rhythm. The way your body welcomed him, soft and dripping around his thick length, made his jaw clench, his control slipping with each deep stroke.

Slowly, he lifted your legs, guiding your ankles onto his broad shoulders. His fingers dug into your shins, holding you firmly in place as he drove deeper, filling you completely. His breath was hot against your skin as he pressed his lips to your ankle, trailing wet, open-mouthed kisses along the delicate skin, never breaking eye contact. His tongue flicked out, teasing, tasting you, before he bit down just enough to make you gasp.

Even as his pace quickened, his movements rough and precise, he never looked away from your eyes. His gaze burned into yours—intense, possessive—watching every reaction, every tremor of pleasure that coursed through you. “You feel- so- fucking good inside- me” you murmured, your voice thick with lust, the deep strokes making your body arch beneath him.

Your moans only spurred him on, his grip tightening as he claimed you completely, his dominance unmistakable in the way he controlled every movement, every sensation, dragging you closer and closer to the edge.

Your hands rested on his sculpted abdomen, feeling the tension in his muscles as his body pressed into yours, each thrust sending waves of pleasure through you. But just as you were getting lost in the rhythm, he suddenly slowed, teasing you with deep, languid strokes before coming to a complete stop. A desperate whimper escaped your lips as he pulled out, the wet squelch of your bodies disconnecting making you shiver. You bit your lip, already missing the way he filled you.

Before you could protest, Aurélien grabbed you effortlessly, lifting you as if you weighed nothing. He bent you over the arm of the couch, his hands spreading your legs apart, his presence towering behind you. Turning your head, you caught the way he was staring—his dark eyes filled with hunger, lips parted as he ran his large, warm hands over your soft ass. He groaned lowly, kneading the flesh, his fingers digging in possessively before he leaned down, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses to each cheek. The sensation sent tingles down your spine.

Then—slap!

His palm came down hard against your ass, the sharp sting making you jolt forward, but the pleasure outweighed the pain, sending a rush of heat straight to your core. A wicked smirk played on his lips as he did it again, watching your body tremble beneath him.

“You like that bébé?” he murmured, his voice thick with lust.

Before you could answer, he slid back into you in one swift motion, filling you to the hilt. This time, there was no teasing—his strokes were fast, deep, relentless. The sound of your bodies colliding filled the room, a filthy mix of wet, desperate moans and the rhythmic slap of skin against skin. You were a mess beneath him, gripping the couch for dear life, pleasure coursing through you like fire.

Then, his fingers tangled into your braids, gripping them firmly at the root as he yanked your head back, forcing you to arch your back. The dominant act made you moan loudly, your walls clenching around him in response.

“Do you love this dick bébé?” he growled through gritted teeth, trying to maintain control, but his own release was dangerously close.

“Fuck yesss, I fucking love this dick baby!!” you screamed without hesitation, your voice shaking from the intensity of his thrusts.

But when the pleasure became too much, your body instinctively tried to escape, your hands pushing against the couch as you attempted to pull forward.

Big mistake.

As if on reflex, Aurélien yanked you right back onto his dick with a force that stole the breath from your lungs. A sharp gasp left your lips as he gripped your hips so tight you knew you’d have bruises the next day.

“Don’t run from me Y/N” he growled, his tone dripping with dominance. “Take it. I know you want it”

And you did. You surrendered completely, your body melting under his control as he fucked you mercilessly, each deep stroke dragging you closer to your breaking point.

His pace quickened, the intensity overwhelming as your walls tightened around him, your body on the brink of release.

“Fuck Aurélien—I’m gonna cum. You’re gonna make me cum” you moaned, voice high and needy.

He hummed in response, the deep vibration sending another wave of pleasure through you. “Mmhmm” was all he said before delivering two more stinging slaps to your ass, the impact sending you over the edge.

Your body convulsed beneath him as your orgasm tore through you, a cry of ecstasy ripping from your throat. You shook uncontrollably, your arousal spilling out, coating his thick length and dripping down onto his thighs.

Aurélien groaned at the sight, his grip on your hips tightening as he chased his own release, ready to fill you up completely.

“There you go baby… fuck, you feel so good” Aurélien groaned, his strokes slow as your body trembled beneath him. You were still pulsing around him, shaking uncontrollably from the aftershocks of your orgasm, your body completely at his mercy.

“Fuck” you whispered, your voice barely audible, lost somewhere between exhaustion and overwhelming pleasure. You felt everything and nothing all at once, floating in a haze of bliss.

He stilled inside you for a moment, letting you catch your breath before he finally pulled out, the sudden emptiness making you whimper. Without hesitation, he scooped you up effortlessly, his strong arms holding you close as he carried you across the house to his bedroom. The heat of his skin against yours, the way his chest rose and fell with each breath—it was intoxicating.

Gently, he laid you down on the bed, climbing over you, settling perfectly between your thighs. His body pressed into yours, warm and solid, grounding you.

His lips found yours again, slow and tender this time. His soft, plump lips moved against yours, his tongue teasing, tasting, savoring. His hands roamed your body, caressing your waist, tracing the curve of your hips, his touch both possessive and gentle. Your fingers dug into his biceps, feeling the strength in them as he hovered above you, completely wrapped up in you.

You broke the kiss first, catching your breath as a lazy, satisfied smile played on your lips. “Where did you learn how to fuck like that?” you murmured, half-joking but also completely serious.

Aurélien let out a low chuckle, the sound vibrating through his chest. “You taught me how you like it… and now you’re surprised when I fuck you exactly how you want?” His smirk was pure arrogance, but you couldn’t even be mad.

“I’m never leaving you” you whispered between kisses, your fingers running over the ridges of his back.

His gaze darkened, something unreadable flashing across his features before he leaned in, pressing a deep, lingering kiss to your lips. “You don’t have to tell me that bébé” he murmured, voice thick with certainty. “I know.”

The moment felt almost sacred—intimate, intense, like nothing else existed outside of this bed, outside of him.

And then, taking full advantage of your closeness, he guided himself back inside you, pushing in slowly, savoring every inch of your tight, warm heat. A deep groan rumbled from his chest as he filled you to the hilt, but this time, he didn’t move. He just stayed there, buried deep inside you, his forehead resting against yours, breathing in sync with you. He wanted to feel you—every pulse, every flutter of your walls around him, the way your body molded perfectly to his.

“Ughh, you’re so deep” you whispered into his ear, your legs wrapping around his waist, keeping him locked in place.

“Mmmm” he hummed, not being able to speak. He was to consumed by the feeling of you. His lips brushing against your shoulder before his teeth grazed your earlobe, sending a shiver down your spine.

The tension built between you like an electric current, and then, finally, he began to move—slow at first, his strokes deep and precise, dragging against every sensitive spot inside you.

But it wasn’t enough.

“Fuck me harder, Aurélien, please” you whined into his ear, your voice needy, desperate. “I need it”

His jaw clenched, and without hesitation, he did exactly what you begged for.

“Whatever you want bébé” he muttered, and then his pace quickened—his hips snapping into yours with raw, unrelenting force. Your moans turned into near-screams, your body arching beneath him as he fucked you like he was trying to break you apart and put you back together at the same time.

He hooked one of your legs over his shoulder, angling himself even deeper, hitting that perfect spot that almost made you pass out. The pressure was overwhelming, consuming, and just when you thought you couldn’t take anymore, he reached between your bodies, rubbing your clit with slow, teasing circles, the contrast driving you insane.

“Oh my God—fuck! I’m cumming again” you gasped, your voice breaking as your entire body tensed, your walls clamping down on him with a vice-like grip.

Aurélien groaned, the way you squeezed around him making it nearly impossible to hold back. He wanted to last longer—needed to—but the way you felt, the way you came undone beneath him, nearly shattered his control.

Somehow, he held on. Barely.

His finger nails dug into your thigh, his breath ragged against your neck as he kept fucking you through it, determined to wring every last drop of pleasure from you.

But he didn’t slow down—not even a little.

Aurélien kept up his brutal, relentless pace, fucking you like he was trying to put you straight through the earth’s core. The force of his thrusts had you screaming in pleasure, your body caught between the sharp edge of overstimulation and pure ecstasy.

His grip tightened. One hand wrapped firmly around your throat, his fingers pressing just enough to make your breath hitch, while the other grabbed your waist, holding you still so you had no choice but to take everything he gave you.

“Oh fuck I love it when you fuck me like this” you gasped, biting your lip as your hazy, lust-filled eyes locked onto his.

That look—so raw, so desperate—almost broke him. His jaw clenched, his grip tightening. He was close, so fucking close, but he wasn’t done with you yet.

He suddenly shifted, his hand moving from your throat to the back of your head, forcing you to look down at where your bodies connected.

“Look at that” he growled, his voice thick with desire. “Look how good I’m fucking you”

Your eyes dropped, and the sight nearly made you cum again.

His thick, glistening dick was sliding in and out of you, stretching you in ways no one else ever could. The wet, obscene sounds of your pussy echoed through the room, the slick mess between your thighs dripping down to where he was still buried deep inside you.

“Fuck… it looks so good” you whispered, completely mesmerized by the way he disappeared into you over and over again.

And then—without warning—he let go of your head, grabbed your neck once more, and started drilling into you even harder.

“OH FUCK, FUCK YES!” you screamed, your voice blending with his deep, guttural moans.

“Yeah?” he gritted out through his teeth, his thrusts growing rougher, more erratic. “Tu veux que je jouisse dans cette chatte, n'est-ce pas ?” (You want me to cum inside this pussy don’t you?)

“Yes please, baby—cum inside me” you begged, your voice breaking, your nails clawing into his shoulders.

Aurélien groaned, his control hanging by a thread. His hand slipped down between your bodies, fingers finding your swollen clit, rubbing harsh circles. The moment he touched you, your entire body shattered.

Your third orgasm of the night hit you with devastating force, a scream tearing from your throat as your walls clenched around him, milking his dick for everything he had. The sensation was too much—too tight, too wet, too perfect.

And then he came.

And when he did—when he finally let go—it was with your name spilling from his lips in a broken, desperate moan. His entire body trembled as he buried himself deep, filling you completely, his warm release spilling into you in thick, hot waves.

“Ahhh—fuck, fuck—” he groaned loudly through the room, his voice raw, his hips twitching as he emptied himself inside you.

He collapsed onto you, his weight heavy and grounding, his breath hot against your skin. The heat between your bodies was overwhelming, sweat slicking your skin, the room thick with the scent of sex.

“I have never cum so hard in my life” you laughed breathlessly, still trembling beneath him.

Aurélien lifted his head from the crook of your neck, his lips brushing against your cheek as he chuckled, his voice deep and satisfied. “I was gonna say the same thing”

He kissed you—slow and lazy this time, as if he wanted to savor every last second of this moment. And even as his dick softened inside you, he didn’t pull out, keeping you full, his cum already dripping from where you were still connected.

But you weren’t done with him yet.

Somehow, with the last bit of strength left in your body, you flipped the two of you over, straddling him. His hands immediately found your ass, squeezing, massaging, as you settled over his face, his half-hard dick resting between your thighs.

Then, without a word, you turned around to face his still half-hard dick, you leaned down and took him into your mouth, licking and sucking him clean—lapping up every last drop of his release mixed with your own arousal.

Aurélien groaned, his head falling back against the pillows, watching you through heavy-lidded eyes as you worked your tongue over his sensitive length. His grip on your ass tightened as he watched the excess cum drip from your still-throbbing pussy, trailing down onto his abdomen and the sheets below.

“Fuck bébé” he rasped, his voice wrecked, completely undone.

Aurélien’s legs tensed beneath you, his breath hitching as you sucked harshly on his still-sensitive dick. His fingers dug into your hips, his chest rising and falling in deep, uneven breaths as he tried to regain control of himself.

“You’re such a nasty girl for me” he murmured, his voice quiet but full of heat. The words shot straight to your core, making your pussy clench around nothing, the ache between your thighs still lingering.

When he finally softened in your mouth, you released him with one last teasing lick, swallowing every drop before turning around to face him again. You leaned in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to his lips, making him taste the mixture of both your juices.

His hands instinctively gripped your waist, pulling you closer, but you pulled away with a soft giggle, slipping off the bed. “I’ll be right back” you murmured, heading to the bathroom to clean yourself up.

When you returned, fresh and glowing, Aurélien was exactly where you left him—laid back against the pillows, hands tucked behind his head, watching you with a soft, knowing smile.

But it was the way he looked at you that made you pause.

His gaze roamed your body, admiring every curve, every dimple, every stretch mark and scar as if they were works of art. It made your skin warm under his scrutiny, a small flicker of nervousness sparking in your chest—but there was no judgment in his eyes. Only love.

“What are you looking at?” you teased, trying to mask your flustered state with a witty tone.

Aurélien exhaled deeply, shaking his head slightly as his eyes locked with yours. “I think I just fell in love with you all over again” he said softly, his voice filled with something so tender, so sincere, it made your heart stutter.

You swallowed, your chest tightening in the best way as you climbed back into bed, curling into his side, burying yourself against his warmth under the covers. His arm wrapped around you immediately, holding you close, his fingers tracing absentminded patterns against your skin.

Tilting your head up, you looked at him, taking in the post-orgasm bliss still etched onto his face. He was beautiful—so effortlessly perfect in this moment. Smiling shyly, you leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek.

“I love you” you whispered, your voice barely above a breath. “So much.”

Aurélien’s grip on you tightened, his lips brushing the top of your head in silent response.

You paused, your smile growing softer as you nuzzled into his chest. “And… happy birthday,” you murmured, closing your eyes, completely at peace in his embrace.

He let out a quiet, content sigh, his own eyes fluttering shut.

As sleep began to take him, he silently thanked God—not just for this moment, but for you. For the way you loved him, for the way you made him feel wanted, desired, cherished. For the way you were his, in every way that mattered.

And even through the hard times, he knew—especially through the hard times—he would always choose you.

With one last lingering kiss pressed to your forehead, he drifted off, hoping that whatever dreams came to him would be even half as good as the reality of having you in his arms.

[snowseasonmademe]

Can I hit It in the Morning

warning ‼️: smut !!

word count: 3,634

pairing: aurélien x black female reader

summary: as you both lay, sleeping soundly, you couldnt start your day without a little morning delight

note: this was inspired by this little conversation over on @rougereds blog. thank you to her and here anon! i can always count on her to have the best freaky thoughts and opinions about our (her) man :) everyone say thank you maha!!! as always enjoy and tell me what you think🤍.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The faint glow of dawn tiptoed into the room like a shy visitor, brushing its delicate fingers over every surface it touched. Soft hues of honey and molten amber danced across the walls, kissing the edges of the heavy wooden furniture and pooling in the corners like liquid sunlight. The open window, framed by gossamer curtains that swayed ever so gently, invited in a crisp morning breeze. It carried the earthy sweetness of dew-soaked lavender mingled with the faint tang of damp earth, the scents swirling together in a symphony that hinted at the garden just below. The room held its breath in a perfect stillness, the only motion the slow, synchronized rise and fall of two bodies nestled beneath a duvet so pristine it looked as if it had been spun from clouds.

Your black silk nightgown shimmered in the early light, clinging to your figure like a second skin, its texture a fluid whisper against your warm curves. The fabric, smooth as flowing water, seemed to amplify the quiet intimacy of the moment. His arm was slung across your waist with a lazy possessiveness, his hand large and strong, yet tender in its placement on your soft stomach. Behind you, Aurelien’s body molded to yours with a warmth that radiated through the duvet, cocooning you in a way that made the idea of moving unthinkable. His breath, slow and even, ghosted against your shoulder, a gentle rhythm that grounded you as you blinked into the gilded light of the morning.

The scene felt suspended in time, a tableau of serenity and closeness that teetered on the edge of something sacred. The golden rays spilled through the sheer fabric of the curtains, painting streaks of sunlight onto your bare skin. The soft glow highlighted the curve of your collarbone and the faint sheen on your arms, catching every subtle rise and fall of your chest. The sheet that had slipped down from his shoulders revealed the defined lines of his torso, his skin sun-kissed and glowing as though he had been sculpted by the hands of a master artist. The air between them felt almost electric, charged with a quiet intimacy that words couldn’t capture.

His breathing shifted, a subtle change that sent a ripple of awareness through you. Then, his voice—low and rasping, like the first notes of a cello—broke the silence. “Bonjour, ma chérie” (Good morning, my darling) he murmured, the words rich and heavy with the texture of dreams and sleep, a husky melody that wrapped around you like a physical touch.

Your heart stumbled over itself at the sound, each syllable slipping into your consciousness like velvet dipped in honey. Your lips parted in response, and a faint, unconscious smile graced your face, the corners of your mouth curving upward as warmth bloomed in your chest. “Good morning” you breathed, your voice soft and rasping, still carrying the haze of sleep. Yet his words had done something to you, sending a low, simmering heat spiraling through your body like the first crackle of a fire.

His face, still tucked into the crook of your neck, pressed closer, his stubble grazing the tender skin there. The roughness of it sent shivers skating down your spine, each graze a spark that seemed to ignite something deep within you. “Mon ange, you feel so warm” (My angel) he whispered, his lips barely brushing the shell of your ear as he spoke, his breath hot and enticing.

Your reaction was immediate, instinctual. A quiver rolled through you, your thighs pressing together as a ripple of sensation coursed through your limbs. His chuckle, low and throaty, vibrated against your back, a sound that was both teasing and unrepentant.

“Are you cold?” he asked, his voice a lazy tease that belied the subtle flex of his fingers against your stomach. The pad of his thumb, rough but gentle, began to draw slow, languid circles just above your navel, the movement sending tingles radiating outward.

“No” you managed, your voice trembling slightly, betraying the delicate balance between your words and the way your body had begun to respond to him. Every touch, every breath between them seemed to blur the lines of restraint.

“Non?” he murmured again, his lips now exploring the graceful curve of your neck, his kisses so light you both barely registered as more than the press of air. “Maybe it’s me, then” he mused, the teasing lilt in his voice offset by the heat of his touch. “I think I’m the one burning up.”

Your breath caught in your throat, the tension between them thickening as his lips lingered at a particularly sensitive spot just beneath your ear. The brush of his mouth against your skin felt both reverent and demanding, a silent promise laced into every movement. You could feel him behind you, his body warm and firm, the undeniable press of him leaving little to the imagination.

“Aurelien” you whispered, his name escaping your lips like a prayer, soft yet charged with meaning. Your tone carried a note of caution, but your body betrayed you, arching back just enough to meet his heat.

“Oui, bébé?” (Yes baby) His voice was velvet and smoke, laced with amusement but deepened by something darker, something more primal. His hand, still resting at the edge of your silk gown, slid lower, the tips of his fingers grazing the bare skin of your thigh. The contrast of warmth and cool silk sent a thrill racing through you, your pulse quickening.

“You’re doing this on purpose” you accused, your voice shaky, the words carrying no real bite. You shivered again as his mouth moved to your shoulder, each kiss a mark of possession and adoration.

“Moi? Jamais” (Me? Never) he said, his grin evident even without seeing it, his accent wrapping around the word like a caress. “How could I not? You smell like heaven, cœur tendre.” (Sweetheart)

Your breath came faster now, every movement of his lips and hands unraveling your composure. The sound of his voice, so rich and resonant, made your stomach tighten and your cheeks flush with heat. His free hand, rough and sure, skimmed lower along your thigh, his touch igniting a fire in your that spread like liquid gold through your veins.

“You’re trouble” you murmured, though the words carried no weight, your voice dissolving into a breathless whisper.

“And you” he said, his voice dropping an octave, roughened with raw need, “are temptation itself. Do you know what you do to me?”

Your heart hammered in your chest as you turned your head, catching a glimpse of his face. His dark eyes, smoldering and half-lidded, seemed to pierce through you, his lips parted in a slow, knowing smile that left you weak.

“You should hear yourself” you countered, though your voice trembled, your composure slipping. “Your voice…”

He leaned in, his lips brushing the shell of your ear as he whispered, “My voice, hmm?” His words were molten, the cadence of his accent turning them into something decadent and irresistible.

You shivered, your body arching instinctively toward him. He pressed against you more firmly, his breath hot against your skin as his hand drifted higher, brushing the edge of your nightgown with an agonizing slowness.

“Aurelien” you said again, this time more desperate, your hands finding their way to his hair, tangling in the soft, unruly curls.

As the golden light bathed them in its glow, their world narrowed to just the two of them, lost in a sea of whispered words, fiery touches, and the unyielding pull of desire that drowned out the rest of the morning.

The first sparkles of dawn wove their way through the room, painting ribbons of molten gold across the bed. The air was thick with the scent of lavender and something warmer, something unmistakably them. Beneath the duvet, heat pooled between their bodies, a slow-burning fire stoked by the lazy weight of Aurelien’s arm draped over your waist. His breath, warm and steady, ghosted against the curve of your neck, a hypnotic rhythm that sent ripples of awareness through your barely waking body.

The silk of your nightgown was cool against your fevered skin, but his touch—his touch was fire. His hand, broad and calloused, slid lower, teasing the hem of the delicate fabric. He didn’t rush. No, Aurelien moved like a man savoring every second, his fingers tracing idle circles just above your knee before skimming higher, exposing inch after tantalizing inch of your thighs. A shudder coursed through your, anticipation tightening every nerve.

“You’re trembling, mon ange” he murmured, his voice deep and husky, still roughened with sleep. The sound alone sent a sharp pulse of pleasure through you, pooling low in your stomach.

You swallowed hard, your body instinctively pressing back against him, feeling the hard, unmistakable evidence of his own desire. you moaned quietly , your own tone breathless, needy. “Aurelien—”

A low, satisfied groan rumbled in his chest, echoing through your back as his fingers slid higher, pushing the silk aside. “Mmm” he mused, grazing his lips along the shell of your ear. “You love my voice, don’t you, bébé?”

You nodded, barely able to form words as he reached the lace of your panties. He didn’t rush—of course he didn’t. Aurelien reveled in control, in drawing out every ounce of tension until it snapped into something uncontrollable. His fingers traced the delicate fabric, teasing you without truly touching, making you writhe in frustration.

“J'adore à quel point tu es mouillée pour moi” (i love how wet you get for me) he murmured against your neck, his voice rich with approval.

Your breath hitched as he finally hooked a finger around the lace, tugging it aside. The cool air kissed your exposed skin, making you gasp. Aurelien’s hand was warm as he traced a feather-light path over your slick core, spreading the wetness he found there with slow, teasing strokes. You moaned softly, hips shifting, seeking more.

He let you grind in his fingers, he knew how bad you wanted him. He pressed a single, teasing circle against your clit, sending a sharp jolt of pleasure straight to your core. “Tell me again how much you love my voice.”

You clenched around nothing, your fingers digging into his forearm as you gasped, “I love your hearing your voice. It t-turns me on so much” you moan.

His other hand slid up your thigh, gripping just behind your knee before lifting, hooking your leg over his arm to open you up completely. His movements were calculated to keep you right at the edge. Then, without warning, you felt the hard, smooth head of his dick pressing against the outside of your pussy.

“So wet” he murmured, dragging his length up and down your slit, coating the tip in your arousal. He moaned into your neck, the sound making you gush around nothing. “So soft”

Your nails dug into his skin, your body arching as you tried to push back onto him. Aurelien groaned, a deep, sinful sound, but held himself just barely at bay.

And then—finally—he pushed inside.

A broken moan tore from your lips as he stretched you, filling you inch by inch with agonizing slowness. His breath turned ragged, his grip on your thigh tightening slightly as he bottomed out. He was thick, perfect, every inch pressing into you with aching precision.

“Mon Dieu” (My god) he exhaled, voice thick with restraint. “Je pourrais jouir tout de suite, tu te sens si bien.” (I could cum right now, you feel so good.)

He rolled his hips, setting a slow, deep rhythm, each stroke a thoughtful indulgence, each thrust sending sparks skittering through your veins. “Does that feel good?” he asks calmly, as if he wasn’t fucking you right back to sleep. “Yes oh- god yes that feels so good”. His hand slid up your stomach, his fingers grazing the soft swell of your breast before continuing their path, wrapping around your throat—not to restrain you, just to feel you, to remind you he would never let you go.

“You’re shaking, bébé” he purred into your ear, his voice dipping into something dark, something devastatingly erotic. “You like it when I talk to you like this?”

Your only answer was a desperate whimper as you clamped down around him.

He hummed in approval, the sound low and knowing. “Oh, you love it.” His thrusts grew firmer, his dick dragging along every sensitive inch of your insides. “You love my voice, my touch….tell me, do you love being fucked like this?”

Your moan was answer enough, but still, he wanted to hear you say it.

“Tell me” he pressed, his breath hot against your ear.

“Yes—, yes—I love it, I love you— Keep talking please”

Aurelien groaned, his hips snapping forward with a sharp, needy thrust. “C’est ça, mon amour” (That's it, my love)

Aurelien’s breath came hot and uneven against your neck, his chest rising and falling in time with the ragged gasps that escaped your lips. The room was thick with heat, the scent of sex and sweat mingling with the remnants of the morning air. He pressed a kiss to the curve of your shoulder, his lips searing against your damp skin.

“J’adore te baiser bébé” (I love fucking you baby) he groaned, his voice wrecked, his accent curling around the words like silk and sin.

He pulled out almost entirely, leaving you trembling, the head of his dick barely kissing your entrance before he slammed back in, stealing the breath from your lungs. The bed creaked in protest, their bodies moving in a desperate rhythm, the sound swallowed by the symphony of your breathless moans and his deep, guttural curses.

Aurelien’s hands never stopped moving, never stopped claiming. He reached for a pillow, shoving it between your legs to, adjusting his angle with a sharp, knowing tilt that sent pleasure rocketing through you. You gasped, arching against him as he drove into you again, deeper this time, his dick pressing into the very core of you.

“Fuck—Aurelien—” you choked out, your voice breaking on his name.

“Je sais, mon amour” (I know, my love) he growled, capturing your neck between his teeth, his kiss hungry and all-consuming. “I know.”

Your fingers dove into his curls, yanking at the soft strands, urging him closer, your other hand gripping the back of his neck as if you could pull him inside you completely. Aurelien groaned into your skin, his hips snapping forward, his thrusts gaining urgency.

“So fucking good” he rasped against your ear, his voice a feral growl, his grip unrelenting. One hand tangled in your hair, tugging just enough to send a delicious shiver down your spine, while the other dug into your hip, controlling the way you moved against him. The wet, obscene sounds of their bodies colliding filled the space between them, the slick glide of him inside you an erotic melody that only seemed to push them closer to the edge.

Your walls fluttered around him, tightening, your body wound so tight you thought you might snap. Aurelien felt it—felt the way you clenched, the way your thighs trembled.

“Mhm, I can feel you” he grunted, his teeth grazing the shell of your ear. “Cum for me, bébé. Let me feel it.”

His hand slipped between them, fingers finding your clit, rubbing firm, relentless circles. You shattered.

A strangled cry tore from your throat, your entire body seizing as the climax crashed over you, pleasure blinding and all-consuming. Your walls pulsed around him, squeezing him in rhythmic waves, milking him as you trembled beneath him.

“Mon Dieu” (God) Aurelien groaned, his pace stuttering as he buried himself deep, his release hitting him like a tidal wave. He spilled into you with a deep, shuddering moan, his body tensing, his dick throbbing inside your warmth. He held you through it, his hands splayed across your skin, grounding you as you trembled in his grasp.

For a moment, there was only the sound of their heavy breathing, the slow come-down from pleasure so intense it left them both boneless.

Aurelien pressed his face into the crook of your neck, nuzzling against your damp skin, his lips pressing soft, lazy kisses there.

“Good morning” you murmured, your voice still thick with the remnants of pleasure, your accent turning the words into something utterly sinful.

You let out a breathless laugh, your fingers still tangled in his hair, your body melting beneath him.

He lifted his head, his dark eyes finding yours, a mixture of satisfaction and something infinitely softer swimming in their depths. His thumb traced the curve of your hip, anchoring you in the moment.

“You okay, chérie?” (Darling) he asked, his voice low, intimate.

You nodded, still trying to catch your breath, your limbs languid and spent. “Yeah” you managed, your voice hoarse from screaming his name. “Just… give me a minute.”

Aurelien chuckled, the sound warm, indulgent. He rolled to the side, pulling you with him effortlessly, keeping you pressed against his chest. His arms wrapped around you, strong and secure, his heartbeat steady beneath your cheek.

Aurelien’s fingers sifted lazily through your hair, his touch slow, absentminded. His mind replayed every gasp, every moan, the way your body had clung to him as if he were the only thing keeping you tethered to the earth. A deep satisfaction settled in his chest, unlike anything he’d felt before. He wasn’t just content—he was utterly, decadently satiated.

His gaze drifted down to where their bodies were still tangled beneath the sheets, lingering on the faint marks forming along your hips—bruises shaped by his own fingers, reminders of how tightly he had held you, how desperately he had wanted to be as close to you as possible. A small, satisfied smile curled his lips at the sight.

As you lay together in the golden afterglow, your breathing gradually steadied, your body growing pliant against him. He was just beginning to drift into that hazy state between wakefulness and sleep when you shifted, suddenly sitting up beside him.

Aurelien blinked, watching as a mischievous glint flickered across her expression. His curiosity piqued immediately.

“Baby?” you purred, your fingers tracing lazy, teasing circles on his bare chest. Your nails skimmed lightly over his skin, leaving a trail of fire in their wake.

“Hmm?” he responded, tilting his head slightly to look at you, his lips still curled in a languid smirk.

“There’s something I want to do with you…” you continued, your voice dipping lower, sultry, knowing. Your eyes sparkled with something wicked. “In the shower.”

Aurelien’s smirk deepened, his amusement quickly shifting into something darker, hungrier. His hands, which had been resting idly at his sides, sprang to life, sliding up your thighs, gripping the soft curves he already ached to claim again. His fingers flexed as he pulled you onto his lap, the feel of your bare skin against his sending heat surging through his veins.

“Oh?” he drawled, raising a single brow, his voice edged with intrigue. “And what might that be, chérie?”

You bit your lip, tilting your head as you leaned in, your breath warm and inviting against his jaw. The teasing, almost innocent expression you wore was at complete odds with the filthy words that spilled from your mouth next.

“I want you to fuck me against the shower wall” you whispered, your voice sultry and dripping with need. “I want the water pounding down on us while you’re inside me, and then I want you to bend me over and take me from behind while the water rinses us clean.”

Aurelien groaned, low and deep, the sound vibrating through his chest. His dick, still sensitive from their last round, twitched back to life at the mere thought of it. You knew exactly what you was doing to him.

“Mon dieu” he muttered, his grip tightening on your thighs. His dark eyes raked over her, his desire unmistakable. “Fuck, you have a dirty mouth on you.”

You only smirked, a challenge glinting in your gaze.

Aurelien didn’t hesitate. In one fluid motion, he stood, dragging you with him effortlessly, their bodies still flush together. Your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, your arms circling his neck as he carried you toward the bathroom.

“Let’s go get that shower then” he murmured, his voice a velvet promise against your lips.

And with that, he rose from the bed, utterly bare, his body a masterpiece of sculpted muscle and golden skin, still flushed from their last bout of pleasure. Every inch of him was firm, commanding, and undeniably breathtaking—all confidence, all hunger, all yours.

Your gaze raked over him, drinking in the way the morning light kissed the sharp planes of his chest, the deep lines of his abdomen, the faint sheen of sweat still clinging to his skin. And then lower—where he stood, proud and thick, already aching for you again. Just the sight of him so eager for you makes you turned on all over again. Your arousal — and his — dripping onto the bed sheets.

Without a word, Aurelien reached for you, his fingers tangling with yours as he pulled you to you feet. His grip was firm, possessive, but the look in his eyes was something else entirely—pure, smoldering need.

He guided you toward the bathroom, his pace slow, as if savoring every second before he got his hands on you again. The air between them crackled, thick with anticipation.

A knowing smirk curled his lips as he glanced back at you, his voice husky with amusement and desire.

“And a good morning it is, indeed.”

You both were in you own world. There was only him—his voice, his touch, his body, his love.

[snowseasonmademe]

French lessons and Rough sessions

word count: 3,700

warnings‼️ : smut

pairing : boyfriend aurelien x black female reader

summary : aurelien has an interesting way to teach you to not be so stubborn

note: SURPRISE SHAWTAAAYYYYY. i wanted to write this as a thank you to everyone (including all my moots and aurelien girlies) and a welcome to my new followers bc there have been a lot in the last couple of days! hello and welcome if you're new, i hope you have a great time here 2 another fic inspired by a song ik but songs are great inspo for me. i also mixed in the demon time thoughts of this anon (everyone say "thank you anon"). wrote this on a an hour ago so i hope it's still as good as my more well thought out ones. also i am working on that lewis fic, it is in progress and will be posted soon. i hope you enjoy, and tell me what you think💋💋💋.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Aurélien” you sing out teasingly, your voice lilting over the soft hum of music filling your cozy apartment. The dim, golden glow of the lamps casts long shadows, warming the space and bathing the French footballer in a sultry light. He lounges shirtless on your plush brown sofa, long, juicy legs sprawled lazily, one arm draped over the backrest like he owns the place. That one vein in his thigh popping out looking oh so appetizing.

Your finger crooks toward him as you sway your hips to the slow, sensual beat of Kehlani’s track playing from your phone. The sweet scent of vanilla candles mixes with the faint musk of his cologne lingering in the air, a heady combination that makes your pulse quicken.

“Clothes off?” you ask, your lips curving into a playful smirk as you roll your shoulders back, accentuating the movement of your hips. The fabric of your shorts brushes teasingly against your skin with each deliberate sway.

Aurélien’s deep brown eyes gleam, his gaze sharp and hungry as it tracks your every move. A slow, confident smile spreads across his face, the kind that promises trouble. “Ah, tu veux que je sois nu, c’est ça?” (Ah, you want me to be naked, is that it?) His voice is rich and smooth, the deep rumble of his accent sending a shiver down your spine.

“Only if you say please” he says, arching a brow as you tilt your head coquettishly. “In French.”

Without breaking eye contact, you reach for the hem of your top, sliding it up and over your head with unhurried precision. The cool air kisses your skin, and the black lace of your bralette feels deliciously daring against your bare torso.

Aurélien exhales softly, his Adam’s apple bobbing as his eyes linger on your curves. “S’il te plaît” you murmur, your voice rasping as he bites his lower lip, that signature smirk still playing at the corners of his mouth.

The tension between you hums like a live wire.

He leans back, the firm muscles of his torso stretching enticingly, and hooks his thumbs into the waistband of his shorts. The soft brush of his clothes against his skin almost silent in the room. He pushes the fabric down, inch by inch, revealing the sculpted planes of his thighs until his shorts fall to the floor in a soft whisper of fabric, making your mouth water.

Now clad in nothing but black Calvin Kleins, he stands tall before you, his skin glistening faintly under the warm light. Shadows dance across the ridges of his abs, the sharp lines of his physique a testament to hours of discipline and training.

“Hmm” you hum appreciatively, your voice low and thick with want. You step closer, the soft carpet muffling your footsteps, and still looking him in the eyes, you reach out to trail a single fingertip down the length of his chest. His skin is warm, smooth, and firm beneath your touch.

“What’s the French word for insatiable?” you ask, your voice husky as your fingers tease at the waistband of his boxers.

“Insatiable” he replies, his voice, dripping with his sexy, foreign accent, dropping to a growl that vibrates between you.

Before you can slip your fingers further down, his hand catches your wrist, holding you firmly but gently. The warmth of his palm sends a jolt of anticipation through you.

“First” he says, his gaze locking onto yours, dark and commanding, “say something dirty to me en français.”

Your lips curve into a wicked smile as you lean in, your breath ghosting over his jaw. “Baise-moi jusqu’à ce que je ne puisse plus marcher.” (Fuck me until I can’t walk) Your voice is a whisper, low and full of promise.

A sharp breath escapes him, and for a moment, the air between you feels electric. The grin that spreads across his face is nothing short of predatory. “Oh, ma belle” he rasps, his voice thick with lust, “tu sais quoi dire pour mettre un homme à genoux.” (You know exactly what to say to bring a man to his knees.)

Aurélien releases your wrist, and you take your time sliding his boxers down, the soft cotton brushing over his firm thighs before pooling at his feet. The heat radiating from his body is intoxicating, and the faint sound of his breathing grows heavier as your hands linger on his skin. The image of him standing right in front of you with nothing in was enough to make you faint. You wanted nothing more but to lick him from head to toe.

His hands find your hips, his grip possessive, pulling you against him. The hard planes of his body press into your softness as he captures your lips in a searing kiss, his mouth warm and demanding.

“Tourne-toi and spread your legs for me” (Turn around) he orders against your lips, his voice a low growl that leaves no room for argument.

Your heart pounds as you turn slowly, the cool air brushing your exposed back. You place your palms flat against the wall — knowing that’s what he would say next — the textured surface rough against your skin.

“Bien” (Good) he whispers, his voice low and approving. His hands slide over your shoulders, down your sides, and linger at the clasp of your bra. With a practiced flick, it falls away, leaving your breasts bare to the room’s warm light.

The sharp contrast of his large, calloused hands against your soft skin sends a shiver coursing through you. His fingers dip to the waistband of your shorts, tugging them down with tantalizing slowness.

You wiggle your hips, feigning innocence as you make the task harder for him. His low growl rumbles behind you.

“Reste immobile” he warns, his tone sharp enough to cut through your playful defiance. (Stay still.)

But you can’t help it—you giggle, wiggling even more just to provoke him.

Aurélien’s hands then grip the waistband firmly, yanking your shorts down in one swift, decisive motion. The fabric catches briefly against your curves before pooling at your ankles, leaving you completely bare. A sharp, stinging slap lands on your left cheek, followed by another on your right. Then again, left then right. The sound echoes in the room, and you gasp, the sting sharp and thrilling.

“Are you going to stop playing now?”

Your lips curve into a pout as you glance over your shoulder. “Ouch, Aurélien, that hurts” you whine, though the heat pooling in your core betrays your words. Your hands find your ass trying to soothe the pain but his hands swat yours away quickly before you could stop the pain.

His grip tightens on your hips, his voice steady but dark with desire. “I asked you a question” he says, his breath warm against the shell of your ear.

You turn your head slightly, a teasing glint in your eye. “No.”

He respons with a calm “Mm okay then.” sending a rush of heat through you. You stood there wondering how he is still so unbothered by your antics.

His palm comes down again, harder this time, landing squarely on your backside. The sharp smack echoes against the walls, and you cry out, the sting blooming across your skin and spreading like wildfire.

“You’re going to have to learn not to be bad, chérie” he murmurs, his breath hot against the shell of your ear. The deep timbre of his voice vibrates through you, melting into the haze of desire pooling in your core.

His hand moves in slow, deliberate circles over the place he just struck, the contrast between the soothing motion and the residual sting sparking electric shocks along your nerves. His fingers press gently, teasing the sensitive skin, and your breath catches at the exquisite mix of pain and pleasure.

“Am I a dog?” you ask, your voice dripping with cheeky defiance, though your heart races as you test his patience.

He pauses for a moment, and you feel his body tense behind you. Then, his dark chuckle rumbles low in his chest, the sound rich and dangerous. His hips press forward, and the hard ridge of his arousal grinds against you, stealing a gasp from your lips.

“Non” he murmurs, his voice a husky promise. His fingers trail up your spine, tracing a line so light it sends shivers racing across your skin. His touch lingers at the nape of your neck before sliding down again, slow and deliberate, as if savoring every inch of you. “Mais we can put you in a position that makes you feel like one.” (but)

The wicked edge in his tone makes your knees tremble, though you refuse to give him the satisfaction of faltering.

“Smart ass” you mutter under your breath, turning your face just enough to mask the smirk tugging at your lips.

You’re sure he didn’t hear you. The music still hums faintly in the background, and the tension in the room is thick enough to drown out quieter sounds. But you’re wrong.

His grip tightens on your hips, his fingers digging in just enough to make your breath hitch. The heat of his palms sears into your skin, a firm reminder of his dominance. You can feel his smirk pressing against the space between your shoulder blades, a silent warning that he doesn’t let anything slide.

“What did you say?” he asks, his tone deceptively calm, but there’s an edge of challenge there, daring you to repeat yourself.

Your mind races as you weigh your options. Finally, you glance back over your shoulder, lips parted in mock innocence. “Je n’ai rien dit” (I didn’t say anything) you reply, your voice sweet and soft, though you both know the lie is as thin as air.

His eyes narrow, dark with suspicion and amusement. “Huh, I must be hearing things then” he says, his grip shifting slightly. You say nothing not wanting to cause him to spank you anymore. You feel the rough pads of his thumbs brushing over the curve of your hips, a tantalizing touch that makes your pulse quicken.

He leans closer, his breath warm against your neck as he murmurs, “Careful, ma belle. Lies have consequences.”

The room feels thick with tension and the musky heat of desire, the dim lighting casting long shadows that flicker with each of your movements. The faint hum of music in the background competes with the sound of your heavy breathing, every note of Kehlani’s sultry melody blending with the symphony of your escalating passion.

Aurelien’s large hands grip your hips possessively, his fingertips pressing into your soft skin with just enough force to leave ghostly impressions. He grinds his hips against your ass in a slow rhythm, the hard ridge of his arousal pressing against you through the thin fabric separating your bodies. The friction sends jolts of heat through your core, leaving no doubt about what he wants—or what you need.

Without warning, his hand slides between your legs, the roughness of his touch contrasting with the smoothness of your folds. His fingers dip into your wetness, teasingly stroking the slick, sensitive skin, and you gasp at the sudden intimacy. “You’re already this wet for me…..but you don’t deserve what you want until you start listening.” His accent laces his words with an intoxicating mix of authority and seduction, and his lips brush faintly against the shell of your ear as he speaks.

“Keep your hands on the wall” he commands, his voice low and firm. “Spread those legs a little wider for me.”

Your knees threaten to buckle under the intensity of his touch, his fingers trailing languidly up and down, drawing out soft gasps that you can’t suppress. Despite the stubborn tilt of your chin, your body betrays you, and you slowly spread your legs wider, the ache for more overcoming any shred of defiance. His hand grips your hip as his other explores your wetness, his thumb grazing your clit with maddening precision.

“D’accord, tu y arrives” (Okay, you’re getting there) he murmurs approvingly, his breath fanning over your neck. The gruff praise sends a thrill down your spine, and your toes curl in anticipation.

Then he pushes two thick fingers inside you, filling you with delicious intensity. You cry out in surprise, arching your back, your walls clenching around him as your body adjusts to the intrusion. “Aurelien!” you gasp, your hand instinctively flying back to grab at his wrist as pleasure courses through you like an electric current.

“Non, bébé, qu’est-ce que j’ai dit?” (No, baby, what did I say?) His tone is both stern and amused, laced with mock disappointment. He pulls his fingers back slightly, denying you the full sensation you crave, before delivering another sharp smack to your bottom that stings enough to make you yelp. “Les mains sur le mur.” (Hands on the wall) The command comes with just a hint of menace, and you know better than to defy him twice.

Whimpering, you flatten your palms against the cool wall, the chill grounding you for a moment before his fingers plunge back into you, curling to hit that perfect spot that makes your legs quake. His thumb resumes its torturous circles on your clit, coaxing desperate cries from your lips as he works you with skillful precision.

“Bien, bébé” (Good, baby) he rasps, his voice low and velvety. The warmth of his breath skims over your damp skin, and you can feel the smirk curling on his lips even though you can’t see it.

Then, just as the pressure within you starts to build, his fingers withdraw abruptly, leaving you empty and aching. You hear the rustle of fabric behind you—the low scrape of his underwear hitting the floor—and then the hot, hard length of him pressing against your wetness, teasing without entering. You can hear how turned on you are. Your body shudders at the sensation, your breath hitching as he places a firm hand on your lower back, gently arching you forward.

“Stay just like that” he mutters, his tone a tantalizing mix of roughness and care. “Don’t move.”

He grips your hips, spreading your legs wider with his knee, the position forcing you onto your tiptoes, the burn in your thighs adding to the delicious tension building in your core. “Très bien bébé” (Very good baby) he murmurs approvingly, the heat of his words spilling over your ear as he slowly pushes forward, inch by tantalizing inch, stretching you completely.

A low groan escapes his lips as he buries himself fully inside you carefully, his hands flexing against your hips, holding you still as he savors the tight heat enveloping him. “Si humide pour moi…” (So wet for me), he hisses through gritted teeth. The words are raw, and they ignite a fire within you.

“Toi—tu me rends si humide, Aurélien” (You—you make me so wet, Aurelien) you stammer, the effort to form a grammatically correct sentences lost to the overwhelming sensations flooding your body. He chuckles darkly at your attempt, clearly pleased with the effect he has on you.

His hips pull back, his length sliding out almost completely before he thrusts back in with a force that sends you rocking forward against the wall. The sound of your back side meeting hips fills the room, a steady, rhythmic slap that only grows louder as he sets a punishing pace.

“Plus fort, s’il te plaît, Aurélien” (Harder, please, Aurelien) you beg, your voice raw and desperate.

“Ah, tu veux que je te baise plus fort, Y/N?” (Ah, you want me to fuck you harder, Y/N?) he taunts, his voice steady and teasing despite the sweat glistening on his skin and the relentless motion of his hips.

“Oui… oui… s’il vous plaît” (Yes… yes… please) you plead, your head tipping back as the words tumble from your lips between gasping breaths.

With a growl, he grabs a fistful of your hair, tugging your head back so your neck is exposed. The rough pull sends a jolt of pleasure through you, and making you let out a few loud moans, almost sounding like a sob. His lips brush against the curve of your ear “Ne me supplie pas si tu ne peux pas suivre” (Don’t beg if you can’t keep up) he rasps before slamming into you harder, deeper, each thrust sending shockwaves through your trembling frame.

The air in the room is riddled with the scent of sweat and sex, the heat clinging to your skin like a second layer. The dim light casts shadows across the walls, flickering as the movement between your bodies sends vibrations through the room. Your hands scrape against the smooth surface of the wall, desperate for something to anchor yourself as Aurelien drives into you with a force that steals the air from your lungs. Each thrust is unrelenting, hitting deep, hard, and perfect, until the world around you dissolves into white-hot sensations.

“Oh. fuck. yes” you cry out matching the rhythm of his thrusts. Your voice raw, almost breaking. The pressure of his thrusts pushes you forward, your cheek brushing the cool wall, a contrast to the blazing heat radiating from your bodies. The sting of overstimulation blends with the sweet ache of pleasure, driving you wild.

Aurelien wraps his thick, muscled bicep around your throat, pulling you flush against him. His chest presses against your sweat-slicked back, the hardness of his body a stark juxtaposition to your trembling body. His lips graze the shell of your ear, and give you a little bite. Hips lips hot and insistent, and the deep, gravelly rasp of his voice sends shivers down your spine.

“Tu vas jouir sur ma bite, bébé?” (Are you going to cum on my dick, baby?) he growls, his hips slamming into you with merciless precision. Each syllable is steeped in dominance, his accent curling around the words in a way that makes your core tighten.

“Oui! Oui, je vais jouir!” (Yes, yes, I’m going to cum!) you pant, the desperation in your voice echoing off the walls. Your body shakes with anticipation, your muscles tightening as you feel yourself teetering on the edge of oblivion. His fingers find your clit, pinching and rolling the sensitive bundle of nerves with a skill that has you keening, the sound breaking from your throat like a plea.

You can’t stop yourself from pushing back against him, grinding your hips to meet his brutal rhythm. The lewd slap of skin on skin grows louder, each thrust pushing you closer to the brink.

“Ouais, juste comme ça. Continuez.” (Yeah, just like that. Keep going.) His voice is breathless, thick with arousal, his moans spilling out as he holds you in place, fully impaled on his cock. His arms gently adds a little more pressure to your throat. The pressure is firm but not overwhelming, a delicate balance that only adds to the overwhelming sensations coursing through you.

Your vision begins to blur, your mind drowning in the sensations. The gentle choke intensifies the pleasure, turning the fire in your core into a roaring inferno. You gasp, the lack of oxygen sharpening every nerve ending, sending shocks of ecstasy coursing through you.

“Ughhh, fuck yessss” Aurelien groans, his deep voice breaking with need. His relentless thrusts grow uneven, his own pleasure cresting as your cries push him over the edge.

The dam within you finally breaks. Your orgasm crashes through you in waves, your body convulsing violently as every nerve ignites. You scream his name, the sound raw and primal, as your inner walls clamp down hard around him, pulling him deeper into you. Aurelien doesn’t stop, his hips hammering into you with harsh, irregular thrusts as your climax continues to ripple through you.

His grip tightens around your throat just enough to send your orgasm into overdrive. The sensation is overwhelming, pushing you past the limits of what you thought your body could handle. You feel him swell inside you, his low growl echoing through your ear.

“Sacrément, this pussy feels so good” (Damn) he whispers cruelly, the sinful words spoken in a tone designed to make you lose control all over again. His pace falters, becoming erratic as his own release overtakes him. With a guttural groan, his body tenses, and you feel the hot rush of his seed spilling into you, marking you in the most intimate way.

As he pulls out, his release trickles down your thighs, warm and sticky, a reminder of his claim on you. Aurelien turns you around with firm hands, his touch steadying your shaky legs. His dark eyes lock on yours, heavy-lidded with satisfaction as he spreads your thighs wider, studying the mess he’s made of you.

“Regarde-moi” (Look at me) he commands, his voice soft but brooking no disobedience. His hands remain on your hips, his touch grounding as your body still trembles from the aftermath. You meet his gaze, your lips parted as you try to catch your breath, the dazed look on your face making his smirk widen.

Your cheeks are flushed, your eyes glazed with satisfaction and submission. His seed drips down your inner thighs, mingling with your own arousal, the evidence of your passion painting your skin. You look thoroughly used, and the sight clearly pleases him.

“Did you learn to be good?” he asks, his tone sweetly mocking, a stark contrast to the roughness of moments before. His thumb brushes over your lower lip, and you can’t help but smirk slightly.

“Yes” you reply, your voice hoarse but tinged with amusement.

He raises an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “Will you be bad again?” he asks, his tone laced with playful warning.

“Maybe” you tease, your lips curling into a grin despite your trembling legs.

His eyes darken, a mischievous glint lighting them as he clicks his tongue. “Oh, I think that means you didn’t learn, chérie” he says, shaking his head. He steps back, his presence commanding even as he gestures toward the bedroom. “Go to the bed and lay down.”

He turns and strides toward the bedroom without a backward glance, his confidence leaving no doubt that you’ll follow. And he’s right. There’s no way you’d dare to disobey—not after this. You take a shaky step forward, your body still tingling, already anticipating what’s to come.

[snowseasonmademe]

Good and Plenty

warning ‼️: lots of smut

word count: 5,554

pairing: aurelien x older black female reader

summary: the tensions are high all day and you and aurelien (almost) can’t make it home to finally get what you’ve been waiting for

note: happy valentine’s day freak-a-leaks!!!! here’s a very sexy valentine’s day fic for my fellow aurelien sister wives ;) everyone, let’s thank @whoevenisthiz ! she helped me with the scene after they get home and it really what kicked off the inspiration for the whole the fic. she’s so amazing. i’m posting this earlier than i planned because im really excited about it!!!!! i recommend y’all grab a snack and sit in a cold, dark room….alone. as always, i hope you enjoy and tell me what you think❤️‍🔥!!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The tension had been simmering all day, long before the intimate dinner, long before the teasing touches under the table. It started that morning—when you woke up to the slow, wet heat of Aurélien’s tongue between your legs, dragging you from your half asleep haze with the lazy, purposeful flicks of his mouth. He was buried beneath the covers, strong hands gripping your thighs apart as he feasted, groaning against your clit like he was tasting the sweetest thing he’d ever had.

You’d tried to push him away—mumbling something about needing more sleep—but he only chuckled, that deep, knowing sound vibrating against your sensitive skin. “Just let me take care of you” he murmured, lips brushing against your slick folds before he sucked your clit into his mouth, making you gasp.

He always wanted to take care of you. Always so eager to please, so willing to obey. Out of the bedroom and especially in it. And God, he was good at it. Even with all your experience, all the years you had on him, he still made you feel like you knew nothing when it came to pleasure. Like your body was something to be discovered, unraveled, and worshipped anew every time he touched you.

He didn’t stop until your fingers were tangled in his curls, until you were gasping his name, thighs shaking around his head as you came hard against his tongue. Only then did he finally emerge, lips wet, eyes dark with satisfaction. He kissed you deeply, letting you taste yourself on his tongue before pulling back to whisper against your lips, “Good morning baby.”

Then, as if nothing had happened, he got up to get ready for work, leaving you spent and panting in the sheets. You were still trying to catch your breath when he reappeared, straightening out his white compression shirt, looking every bit the composed, put-together man you knew he wasn’t when he was beneath you.

Before he left, he leaned down, brushing one last lingering kiss against your jaw. “I bought you something” he murmured, lips ghosting over your ear. “I want you to wear it tonight after dinner. It’s in the closet”

And just like that, he was gone. Leaving you hotter, hungrier, and more frustrated than when he had his mouth on you.

By the time dinner came, the anticipation was unbearable. The restaurant was your favorite—dimly lit, luxurious, filled with the kind of quiet intimacy that only made the tension between you more potent. Aurélien looked devastatingly good in his tailored suit, the fabric hugging his broad shoulders and strong arms, the open collar teasing just a glimpse of his smooth, warm skin.

But it was the way he looked at you that had you gripping your wine glass tighter. Like he wanted to devour you right there at the table.

“Staring is rude you know?” you murmured, dragging your tongue over your bottom lip just to tease him.

He exhaled sharply, adjusting in his seat. “Can’t help it ma belle” he admitted, his voice thick with restraint. His eyes dropped to the deep neckline of your dress, then back up to your lips. “You look too good”

You smirked, setting your glass down before leaning in, letting your fingers trace over the back of his hand. “You’re acting like you weren’t between my legs this morning” you whispered, watching his jaw tighten. “Like you didn’t make me cum on your tongue before you even ate breakfast”

Aurélien sucked in a slow breath, his fingers curling into fists on the table. “You trying to make me hard in this restaurant Y/n?” he muttered, voice low and rough.

You hummed, dragging your nails lightly up his arm. “I think you like when I tease you” you mused. “When I make you wait”

His gaze darkened, his tongue swiping over his bottom lip. “Do you want to leave right now?”

You smiled, tilting your head. “I want you to be patient” you corrected, trailing your fingers up to his wrist. “And then, when we get home, I want you to lose all of it”

His breath left him in a slow exhale, his grip tightening under the table. “Tu vas me donner une crise cardiaque un jour” (You're going to give me a heart attack one day)

You only laughed, taking another sip of wine.

You didn’t even make it through dessert before agreeing to leave. The second you stepped outside, Aurélien’s hand was on your lower back, guiding you toward the car with a possessive urgency that made your stomach flip.

The moment you slid into the passenger seat, restraint snapped like a frayed thread. Aurélien had barely even pulled off before you grabbed his jaw and kissed him—deep, hungry, desperate. He groaned into your mouth, his hands immediately roaming your body, gripping your waist, your thigh, your neck—anywhere he could reach. His lips were hot and urgent, trailing down your throat, nipping at your skin as his breathing turned ragged.

Your hand drifted between his legs, pressing against the thick, hard length straining beneath his slacks. He hissed, bucking slightly into your touch, his fingers tightening around your thigh.

“Fuck” he exhaled, forehead pressing against yours as he struggled to catch his breath. “You trying to make me crash before we even get home?”

You smirked, breathless, pressing one last slow, teasing kiss to his lips before pulling away. “Drive faster”

He obeyed.

The second you stepped through the door, his hands were on you again. You barely had time to drop your purse before his lips crashed against yours, hands greedy as they pulled you close. The heat between you was unbearable now, both of you gasping between frantic kisses as you stumbled back against the wall.

Your back hit the surface with a soft thud, but you barely noticed because Aurélien was already pressing into you—his hard, strong body molding against yours, the unmistakable heat of his arousal pressing against your stomach.

“I want you to fuck me hard” you murmured against his lips, voice thick with need. “Right here against the wall”

His breath hitched. His grip on you tightened, fingers digging into your hips, pupils blown wide with hunger.

“I’ll do whatever you want baby” he rasped.

And he meant it.

He grabbed your thigh and brought it to wrap around his hip as one of his hands slid into your drenched panties. “You’re so wet” he groaned, dragging his finger through your slick folds before teasing your clit in slow circles.

“Of course I am” you purred, arching into his touch, guiding his hand with yours to show him exactly how you liked it. “I’ve been thinking about you all fucking day”

His jaw clenched, and his free hand gripped your thigh, hiking it up against his waist. “Fuck” he breathed.

You laughed softly, teasing, threading your fingers through his curls and tugging. “Aurelien” you said in a serious tone. “I need you inside of me. Now”

His strength paired with his obedience, his need to dominate warring with his devotion to pleasing you—made your body burn.

His hands worked fast—pushing your dress up, sliding your panties down your thighs. His movements were eager but careful, like he was desperate to have you but still mindful of your comfort. He always was. Even in his most desperate moments, even when his body was shaking with restraint, his first instinct was to make sure you were taken care of.

But right now? Right now, you wanted him to lose control.

“Don’t hold back” you urged, grabbing his chin, making him look at you. “Show me how bad you want me Aurélien”

That was all it took.

Aurélien cursed under his breath, fumbling with his belt, shoving his slacks down just enough to free himself. The second his dick pressed against your entrance, he paused, his gaze locking onto yours, waiting—always waiting for your permission.

You pulled him closer, breath hot against his ear. “Do it”

And he did.

The stretch was exquisite, his size forcing your body to adjust, but it was exactly what you wanted—what you needed. A strangled groan left his lips as he sank in, forehead pressing against yours, his body trembling with the effort to control himself.

“Putain bébé” (Fuck baby) he choked out. “Je pourrais jouir maintenant” (I could cum right now)

You tilted your hips, urging him deeper, wrapping your leg tighter around him.

Aurélien gripped your hips and pulled back before slamming into you with a force that made your breath hitch. He set a brutal pace, fucking you against the wall just like you asked, the sound of your back hitting against the wall filled your ears and breathy moans filled the room.

He was lost in you, worshiping you with every thrust, every reverent kiss against your shoulder, every desperate moan muffled against your neck. His hands couldn’t stay still, roaming your body, nails digging into you, memorizing every curve, every dip, every shudder.

“Tell me what you need” he panted, lips brushing against your ear.

“You” you gasped, nails digging into his back, pulling him closer, deeper. “Just like this. Just—”

Your words cut off in a moan, back arching against the wall as Aurélien drove into you, hitting that perfect spot again and again—so precise, so ruthless, like he was made to fuck you just like this. His strokes were deep and demanding, dragging pleasure out of you with each roll of his hips, each desperate thrust that left you gasping. His fingers dug into your thighs and hips, holding you up effortlessly, his strength undeniable as he used it to wreck you in the best way. You could feel the tension coiling in your stomach, that telltale heat building, threatening to snap.

His grip tightened, knuckles white from how hard he was holding onto you, and his pace turned brutal—fast and deep, yet still so in tune with your body, like he knew exactly what you needed before you even had to ask. The sound of skin meeting skin filled the air, mixing with the frantic gasps, the sharp moans, the low, desperate groans spilling from his lips. He was unraveling, coming undone just as fast as you were, and the knowledge only pushed you closer to the edge.

“Cum for me” he begged, his voice breaking, thick with need. His forehead pressed against yours, eyes blown wide, dark and pleading. “Let me feel you bébé please—”

It was the way he said it, the raw desperation in his voice, the absolute worship laced in his words that finally shattered you. Your climax slammed into you like the way his dick was stroking your inner walls, stealing the air from your lungs, making your whole body tense as pleasure ripped through you. You cried out, nails raking down his back and arms, thighs trembling around his waist as he fucked you through it, determined to pull every last ounce of pleasure from you.

The way you clenched around him sent him spiraling right after you. His hips stuttered, a deep groan escaping his chest as he buried himself to the brim, his whole body shuddering with his release. You felt the warmth of him spill inside you, the way his muscles locked up, his grip on you tightening as if he needed to hold onto something—needed to hold onto you—to survive the intensity of it all.

For a long moment, neither of you moved. Just panting, tangled up in each other, his body still pressing you into the wall like he never wanted to let go. His breaths were ragged, hot against your neck, his heart pounding just as wildly as yours. Slowly, his grip softened, fingers tracing lazy circles against your skin, grounding himself in your warmth.

“Fuck” he murmured against your lips, voice wrecked, filled with nothing but awe.

And the way he said it—like he still couldn’t believe you were his—made you ache for him all over again.

Then, slowly, Aurélien pulled back, his fingers brushing through your hair, tucking a stray lock behind your ear. His eyes were dark with satisfaction, but there was still something softer—something almost tender—in the way he looked at you. The dominance he’d shown moments ago had been replaced with a hunger that felt a little different, but no less intense.

“You okay?” he murmured, kissing your forehead, his voice rough, thick with desire.

You smirked, taking his face in your hands, your fingers tracing the line of his jaw before dragging your nails down the sides. His pulse quickened beneath your touch. You tilted his face up to meet your gaze, locking eyes with him, and you could feel the shift between you—him, still catching his breath, and you, already craving more.

“I should be asking you that” you teased, voice low, dripping with satisfaction and hunger. “I did tell you to fuck me hard didn’t I?” Your tone was teasing but laced with a darkness that promised there was more to come.

His grin curled lazily, cocky, like he knew exactly how you felt and didn’t mind it one bit. But in his eyes, there was still that hint of boyish awe—like he couldn’t quite believe he was here with you, in this moment, with all of you. “I’ll do whatever you want” he reminded you, his voice rough as he pressed another slow, lingering kiss to your lips. “Whenever you want”

Your breath hitched at his words, but you didn’t let him get the upper hand yet. You hummed, dragging your nails lightly down his chest, savoring the way his breath caught, the way his muscles twitched under your touch. “Then I hope you’re not too tired” you purred, letting your fingers trail lower, teasing the waistband of his trousers before dragging them back up to his chest. “Because we’re not done yet”

His sharp inhale echoed in your ear, his hands tightening around you—too desperate to pull away, too eager to do exactly as you said.

Aurélien might have been the athlete, the one with stamina that went for miles, but you? You were the one who knew exactly how to use it.

The power was in your hands, and right now, it was your turn to make him bend to your will. You leaned up to kiss him again, slow and deep, your tongue tangling with his as you pulled him toward you, guiding him backward toward the stairs.You felt his cum dripping down your thighs and it made you so ready for the next round.

As you reached down, your fingers wrapped around him again, and you could feel it—the slick mess of both of you coating his dick, warm and sticky against your palm. You glanced down, smirking at the sight of it, the evidence of everything you’d just done still glistening on his skin. With a slow stroke, you spread it over him before tucking him back into his pants, smoothing the fabric over his length like you hadn’t just had him unraveling in your hands.

As you made your way up the stairs, you felt the pulse of anticipation building again—this time not from the tension of the moment, but from the sight awaiting you at the top of the stairs. Aurélien had planned something special. The soft glow of candles lit the path to the upstairs balcony, the space decorated beautifully with roses, fairy lights, and soft pillows arranged just so—an intimate, romantic scene that made your heart race in a different way.

You stepped out onto the balcony, the cool night air brushing against your skin, but it didn’t matter. Everything else melted away as you took in the sight before you. The balcony was transformed—soft candlelight flickered around the space, illuminating a scattering of roses, delicate fairy lights twinkling overhead, and pillows arranged perfectly. It was beautiful, intimate, and undeniably romantic.

“Oh, what’s all this?” you asked, your voice filled with surprise, though you couldn’t hide the hint of excitement rising inside you.

Aurélien moved behind you, his body warm against your back, arms wrapping around your waist. He pressed a kiss to the back of your neck, a satisfied smirk pulling at his lips. “I decorated before we left” he murmured, his breath sending a shiver down your spine. “But we couldn’t really get to it because we were… busy” he finished, squeezing your side with a playful, possessive grip.

You smirked, spinning in his arms, eyes dark with desire. “You’ve been making me wet all night, and now you pull this shit on me?” you purred quietly, almost a whisper, hands running over the muscles in his chest as you leaned in closer, your breath hot against his lips. “It’s gonna be hard to wait any longer baby” you said, biting your bottom lip.

His eyes darkened at the tone of your voice, his grip tightening on you. “I’m gonna have to make you wait, but trust me, it will be worth it”

Before you could respond, Aurélien reached into his pocket and pulled out a small velvet box, holding it out toward you with an intensity that only made you burn hotter. “I have something for you” he whispered, voice thick with need.

You took the box, eyes glinting with curiosity. As you opened it, your breath caught in your throat. Inside was a stunning Tiger’s Eye Van Cleef bracelet, the deep golden hues reflecting the candlelight, beautiful in its simplicity and elegance. The piece was exquisite—just like him.

“It matches mine” he said, his voice proud and full of admiration as he stepped closer. “I knew you’d like it”

Your fingers brushed over the bracelet as you slipped it onto your wrist, eyes never leaving his. You could feel the intensity between you, like the space between your bodies was filled with pure electricity.

“Oh you knew huh?.....It’s perfect” you whispered, your voice a soft purr, eyes locked on his. “You always know exactly how to please me”. The words rolled off your tongue, full of intent, as you moved toward him again, pressing yourself against his chest.

Aurélien smirked, his hands trailing down your sides, fingers grazing over the curves of your body. “That’s my job baby” he replied, his voice dripping with desire.

Just when you thought he was about to pull you in for another kiss, he surprised you. He turned you again, pushing you gently toward the balcony railing so your back pressed flush against his chest once more. Your heart raced as you bent over it, the cool metal biting into your palms as you leaned forward, offering yourself to him completely. You gasped, feeling his growing arousal against you. His fingers slid down your back, tracing the curve of your spine before grasping your hips firmly, pulling you toward him. The heat between your legs was unbearable, and you could feel his hard dick pressing against you, demanding, urgent.

“You look so fucking sexy like this” he murmured, his voice thick with need, hands gripping your hips, holding you close. But you didn’t care about looking sexy—you cared about feeling him, having him, finally getting what you’d been desperate for all damn day.

“Aurélien” you whined, pressing your ass against his hard dick, rolling your hips against him.

His breath hitched, and his fingers dug into your skin as if he was barely holding himself back. “You need me that bad, baby?” he rasped, dragging his hands down your stomach, teasing the lace of your panties.

“Yes” you gasped, tilting your head back against his shoulder. “I want you to make me cum again—fuck me. Right here”

That did it. His restraint snapped. He quickly took off your shirt and skirt, his hands gripping your ass as he pressed you against the railing. “Bend over a little more for me” he ordered, voice rough, almost desperate.

You did as he said, gripping the cool metal as you arched your back, offering yourself to him completely. The night air brushed against your skin, making you shiver, but you didn’t care—because you felt him behind you, felt his fingers trailing down your spine, then yanking down the tiny lace he’d made you wear.

“So you liked the lingerie I set out for you this morning” he murmured, his breath hot against your ear, his hands already gripping your waist like he couldn’t stand another second without you.

“Of course I did” you purred, tilting your head to brush your lips against his jaw. “I’ve been thinking about you fucking me in this all day.”

His dick twitched against you, his grip tightening. “Ouais?” (Yeah?) His voice was rough, dark with intent. “Laissez-moi vous donner ce que vous attendiez” (Let me give you what you've been waiting for)

You turned your head slightly, eyes dark with lust. “I want you to fuck me over the balcony so everyone knows how good you fuck me” you said, voice dripping with filth.

“Putain” he swore, his control completely shattered. His hand cracked against your ass, making you gasp, before he slid his fingers between your thighs, groaning when he felt how soaked you were. “Dripping for me” he murmured, rubbing your clit in slow, deliberate circles. “You need me that bad, huh?”

“Stop talking and fuck me” you demanded, rocking back against him.

He didn’t make you ask again. Lining himself up, he slammed into you in one deep thrust, stretching you open, making you gasp at the perfect, overwhelming fullness. He didn’t give you time to adjust—he started fucking you hard, deep, just like you needed, his grip bruising on your hips.

“Yes—fuck” you moaned, hands gripping the railing for support. “Fuck me Harder”

“You take this dick so fucking good” he groaned, pounding into you with everything he had. “So tight. So fucking wet for me.”

You gasped when he grabbed a fistful of your hair, yanking your head back, making you arch even deeper for him. He landed a hard slap on your ass making you whine loudly. The mix of pain and pleasure had your legs shaking, had you completely at his mercy.

“Smack me again” you moaned.

He did—hard. The sting only made you wetter, made you clench around him.

“Again”

Another sharp slap.

“Now make me cum” you gasped, your voice almost breaking from how desperate you were.

He obeyed instantly, his fingers finding your clit, rubbing fast, tight circles, his thrusts turning brutal. “Cum for me” he rasped. “Let me have it”

Your orgasm hit like a fucking earthquake, your entire body tensing as pleasure exploded inside you, your walls clenching down on him, pulling a deep groan from his lips. He wasn’t far behind—you felt him twitch inside you before he cursed under his breath, his hips stuttering as he spilled inside you, his grip on you unrelenting.

For a moment, all you could hear was your heavy breathing, the sound of the city below, and the lingering echoes of your moans in the night air. Aurélien’s hands traced slow, lazy patterns over your hips, his lips brushing over your shoulder, his breath still ragged.

Then, without a word, he turned you around, capturing your lips in a deep, hungry kiss. It wasn’t soft—it was all tongue, all heat, all the leftover desperation that neither of you could shake. His hands roamed your body, gripping, squeezing, pulling you closer like he still hadn’t had enough.

Slowly, he walked you into the loft, the soft carpet cushioning your feet as he guided you inside. The flickering candlelight cast shadows along the walls, and the night air from the open doors made your overheated skin tingle. When he reached the center of the room, he lowered you onto the plush floor, his hands firm but careful as he eased you down.

You looked up at him, chest rising and falling rapidly, watching as he sat back on his heels and pulled his shirt over his head, tossing it aside. His muscles flexed in the dim light, his skin still glistening from your last round on the balcony. Then, his hands moved lower shoving his pants and boxers down his thighs until he was completely bare above you, hard and ready again.

Your breath hitched when he leaned over you, flipping you onto your stomach with ease. His hands slid under your hips, lifting you slightly, arching your back so your ass was perfectly presented for him—your body pressing into the carpet, your legs spread just enough to feel the heat of him behind you.

“This” he murmured, trailing a slow hand down your spine. His touch left a trail of heat, every inch of your skin hyperaware of him. When he reached your ass, he squeezed—firm, possessive, sending a sharp pulse of desire straight to your core. “This is how I want you”

A shiver ran through you at his words, your body responding instantly. The anticipation was unbearable, pooling deep in your belly, making your thighs clench. His hands gripped your hips firmly before sliding lower, spreading you open with intent. The cool air against your heated skin sent another shiver down your spine, a slow, teasing pause that left you breathless.

Then, without warning, he slightly leaned down and let out his spit into your pussy. The sensation made your body jolt, a needy whimper slipping from your lips as he teased you, drawing out every ounce of anticipation. He groaned, savoring the way you trembled beneath him, before finally pressing the thick, leaking tip of his dick against your pussy.

With one deep, unhurried thrust, he filled you completely, stretching you open in a way that made your breath hitch, your mouth parting in a silent moan before it finally broke free.

“Fuck Aurélien” you gasped, voice trembling, your fingers digging into the plush carpet beneath you, desperate for something to hold onto. The overwhelming fullness, the slow, dragging way he pulled out only to press back in—it had you teetering on the edge of madness.

He groaned, a low, guttural sound that vibrated through his chest. His fingers dug into your hips, holding you steady as he began to move, each stroke deep and measured, savoring every second of being inside you. His breath was uneven, his restraint evident, but it didn’t last long. Soon, his rhythm shifted, his control slipping as his hips snapped against you, faster, harder, his dick slamming into that perfect spot that had your legs shaking beneath you.

Your body tensed, pleasure unraveling inside you at a pace you couldn’t keep up with. The way he stretched you, filled you so perfectly, sent wave after wave of ecstasy crashing into you. It was too much, too intense. Your limbs burned, the friction, the overwhelming sensation making it impossible to think straight. You whimpered, trying to crawl forward, your hands scrambling at the carpet as you attempted to escape the unbearable pleasure.

But he was quicker. “Mm mm” Aurélien growled, his voice thick, dark with dominance as he grabbed your waist and yanked you back, forcing you flush against him again. “You’re not running from this dick. Come here”

A needy, broken moan fell from your lips as he grabbed you, pinned you in place, his hands locking around your hips, making sure you took every relentless stroke. Every inch. The deep drag of him, the way he filled you without pause, left you gasping, your body trembling under him. Your vision blurred, your muscles burning from the strain of taking him this deep, this hard. Every thrust sent a sharp, intoxicating mix of pleasure and pain rippling through you, leaving you desperate, stretched, and utterly consumed by him. His grip was bruising, his pace unyielding—there was no escape, not that you wanted one.

You felt him everywhere. The heat of his body pressing down on yours, the rough scratch of his breath against your shoulder, the tension in his muscles as he held himself back just enough to draw it out. Every inch of him dragged against your walls, thick and unrelenting, forcing your body to yield. The way he filled you, the way he stretched you, made your thoughts dissolve into nothing but him. And he felt you, too—his grip tightening as he groaned low in his throat, as if he could barely hold himself together. You clenched around him, and his rhythm faltered for a split second, a raw, helpless sound tearing from his throat. “Fuck” he gritted out, the word drenched in hunger. You could feel it—how close he was to losing control, how much he loved the way you took him.

His breath ragged as he reached beneath you, fingers expertly finding your swollen, sensitive clit. He rubbed tight, merciless circles, each touch perfectly in sync with his punishing thrusts. The sharp contrast of pleasure and intensity sent you spiraling, your body tensing, then unraveling beneath his relentless pace. His other hand smoothed over your ass before bringing it down in a sharp, stinging slap. Once. Then twice. The sharp bite of pain only made the pleasure crest harder, your cries muffled against the sheets. “Give it to me” he growled, his fingers pressing, stroking, demanding—until you shattered for him, falling apart in his hands.

The combination was lethal. Your orgasm ripped through you with devastating force, your entire body jerking as your walls clenched down on him, squeezing him so tight you heard him curse under his breath. A strangled cry left you, muffled against the carpet as you came, waves of pleasure crashing over you again and again.

Aurélien groaned, his pace faltering, his grip on you tightening as he buried himself deep one last time. His body tensed, his breath shuddering as he spilled inside you, his low, broken moan vibrating against your skin.

Neither of you moved, your bodies still locked together, trembling in the aftermath. Your breaths were ragged, chests rising and falling in sync, the only sound filling the space around you.

Then, slowly, he leaned down, his lips pressing soft, lingering kisses along your spine, his arms wrapping around you, pulling you into his chest. His warmth, the way he held you so securely against him, sent a different kind of shiver through you—one that had nothing to do with lust and everything to do with the way he made you feel.

A deep, satisfied groan rumbled in his chest as he pulled out, slow and careful, letting you feel every inch of him leaving your body. The wet, obscene sound of it filled the air, making your breath hitch. He lingered there for a second, eyes locked on the way you trembled, before finally settling beside you.

Neither of you said a word at first, just the sound of your breathing filling the room. But you didn’t need to.

Then, with a lazy smirk, he exhaled a laugh. “You know” he murmured, dragging his fingers up and down your arm, “we really could’ve just fucked in the car”

You laughed, burying your face against his chest. “I don’t even know how we made it home without crashing to be honest” you admitted. “I had my hand in your pants the whole damn ride”

He groaned, shaking his head. “Yeah, I was holding on for dear life” He traced a slow circle on your hip before tilting his head down to look at you. “We’re reckless as hell”

You grinned, pressing a lazy kiss to his collarbone. “A little”

He hummed, then suddenly— “What zodiac sign do you think our baby’s gonna be?”

You froze for a second before lifting your head to look at him. The countless hours of teaching him astrology finally came back to haunt you. His expression was unreadable, but there was something teasing—something knowing—lingering in his eyes.

“The way you’ve been putting it in me like you’re trying to start a family, we might find out real soon” you teased, arching a brow.

His smirk widened, hand smoothing over your stomach. “Yeah?” His voice was deep, almost too casual. “Hope they’re a Scorpio”

“So Jules can have a birthday buddy? Great idea” you teased, rolling your eyes.

He chuckled, fingers tracing lazy patterns against your skin. “Exactly. Double the chaos.”

“Happy Valentine’s Day” you shot back, laughing.

He smirked, tilting his head. “Yeah, and nine months from now, you’re gonna be saying ‘Happy Parenthood”

You scoffed, swatting at his chest, but he just grinned, pulling you even closer. He kissed you again, deep, like he had all the time in the world to ruin you. And he did.

What started as lazy touches and teasing words unraveled into something primal, something untamed. You lost track of time, lost track of how many times he pulled you under, only to bring you back gasping, shaking, begging for more. Every surface became a playground—the bed, the couch, the kitchen table, even the floor when patience ran out. He flipped you, stretched you, took you apart in ways that had you seeing stars, until your body was trembling, muscles aching like you’d spent six straight hours on a stairmaster.

By the time you collapsed against him, boneless and wrecked, dawn was threatening the horizon. Your voice was hoarse, your skin marked with the evidence of everything he’d given you.

You knew this was gonna hurt so good when you woke up later.

[snowseasonmademe]

In your hands

warning ‼️: smut

word count: 4,991

pairing: william saliba x black female reader

summary: on a nice, innocent pottery date you can help but desire for you to be in william’s hands instead of the clay

tag list: @sucredreamer @irishmanwhore @whoevenisthiz @iamquiantrelle @dexastres @coffeevacation @goldenngt @btslover117 @kennasutopia @jessnotwiththemess

note: my first william fic🥳 the girls and i had a timeeeeeee with that pottery video so i had to write something because it was really making me ✨tingle✨. as always enjoy and tell me what you think!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The warm glow of the studio lights cast golden hues over the room, reflecting off the damp sheen of the spinning clay. The air smelled of earth and something faintly musky—maybe the clay, maybe the lingering scent of William’s cologne. Either way, it was intoxicating.

You had both been waiting weeks for this pottery date, but between his matches and your packed schedule, the timing never aligned. Until tonight. And now, here you were—knees touching as you both sat in front of the wheel, hands trembling slightly as you tried to center the clay.

William let out a low chuckle, watching as the mass of clay wobbled under your uncertain hands. “Let me help you, bébé” he murmured, his deep, accented voice sending a shiver down your spine.

Before you could protest, he reached for another chair, dragging it behind yours. The scrape of wood against tile barely registered before he settled in—his long legs bracketing yours, his chest pressing flush against your back. His presence engulfed you, surrounding you in his warmth, in the scent of him—clean, rich, subtly spiced. It made your pulse stutter.

His hands found yours, covering them with ease, his fingers warm and firm as they guided your movements. The clay was soft beneath your touch, pliant, shifting under the gentle pressure of both your hands.

“Just like that baby” he whispered, his lips dangerously close to the shell of your ear. His voice was low, smooth, almost teasing. “You have to keep it steady, or it’ll fall apart.”

The words, innocent in context, settled deep in your stomach, curling like a slow-burning fire.

You swallowed thickly, forcing your focus back on the clay, but it was impossible when every breath William exhaled ghosted over your skin, sending sparks of heat straight to your core. His fingers laced with yours, guiding them up and down the spinning strangely cylindrical shaped clay. Smoothing, shaping, molding. The way the unshaped clay leaned to the side reminded you of the curvature of William. How he hits some many unknown spots inside of you.

Your mind drifted, thoughts slipping into dangerous territory. His hands were large, skilled, his grip both firm and delicate. You imagined them elsewhere, imagined those same fingers dipping inside you with the same careful precision. The way his chest molded to your back, the solid weight of him behind you, how easily he took control.

A sharp inhale betrayed you, your breathing shifting ever so slightly. William must have noticed because his grip on your hands tightened, just a little. His thumb brushed over the back of your knuckles, slow, thoughtful.

“Faster” he murmured, instructing you to press the pedal.

You did, and the wheel spun quicker, the clay stretching, lengthening beneath your touch. But you weren’t thinking about the vase anymore. No, all you could think about was the way his voice dropped an octave when he spoke in your ear, the way his body heat seeped into yours, the way his fingers still moved over yours, teasing, coaxing, controlling.

His breath was heavy now as he tried with a small amount of strength to keep the clay in the middle of the wheel. He let out a few grunts that sent you down a spiral. Each exhale a low rumble near your ear. You weren’t sure if it was the effort of keeping your hands steady or if he could feel the same tension building thick in the air between you.

Then, his voice dipped lower, darker. “Get it wet for me”

The instruction was innocent enough—he wanted you to add more water to the clay before it dried out. But the second the words left his lips, your stomach clenched, heat rushing through you in waves.

Your fingers trembled as you reached for the bowl, scooping up water and letting it drizzle over the spinning clay. But in your mind, all you could hear was the weight of those words, all you could think about was how wet he was making you.

For a moment, you let your eyes flutter shut, let yourself get lost in the sensation of his hands over yours, the steady rhythm, the quiet intimacy of it all. You could feel the heat radiating from him, the strength in his arms as he held you still, the way his breath stuttered ever so slightly when you shifted against him, his heartbeat steady on your back.

A low hum vibrated in his chest. “Bébé?” His voice was softer now, laced with amusement. “Baby? You can stop the wheel now—we got the shape you wanted.”

Your eyes snapped open.

The clay had transformed—what had once been a messy, phallic-shaped lump was now a perfect, smooth vase, ready to be fired and painted. You had no idea how long it had been like that, how much time had passed while you were caught up in everything else.

William was quiet for a moment, but you could feel the smirk on his lips before you even turned to look at him. His fingers lingered over yours, his chest still pressed to your back, his breath still warm at your ear.

“Alright, they said we can just leave the pieces on the wheel and they will come and pick them up” he murmured, his tone knowing, teasing, promising. “Are you ready to go?”

Your pulse thrummed.

Yes. Yes, you were.

William stayed close behind you, his chest still pressed against your back, his hands still covering yours. The wheel had stopped spinning, the clay was molded perfectly, but the tension in the air hadn’t settled—it had only thickened, stretching between you like an invisible thread ready to snap.

Finally, he exhaled, slow and controlled. “Come on bébé” he murmured, his voice deep, rough around the edges. “Let’s clean up”

His hands slid from yours, trailing lightly over your wrists before pulling away completely. The loss of contact left your skin tingling, hyperaware of the warmth that was no longer there. You swallowed and stood up, but your legs felt unsteady—whether from sitting too long or from the way his voice had been in your ear all night, you weren’t sure.

William noticed. Of course he did.

A smirk played at the corner of his lips as he straightened to his full height, towering over you. “You okay baby?”

The way he said it—low, teasing, laced with something smug—made your breath hitch.

You rolled your eyes, trying to act unaffected, but he saw right through it. He always did.

The two of you moved to the sink, side by side, hands covered in clay residue. The water ran warm over your fingers as you rinsed off the mess, but the real distraction was William—how he stood so close, how his arm brushed against yours, how he watched you with darkened eyes through the mirror above the sink.

“You did good for your first time” he murmured, voice smooth as silk. “I liked watching you work.”

His gaze flickered down, slow and playfully, and the way he said it made it clear—he wasn’t talking about pottery anymore.

Your breath stuttered. “Glad I could entertain you”

William smirked, reaching for a paper towel. Instead of handing it to you, he took your wrist gently, turning your palm up as he slowly—too slowly—wiped your hands dry, his touch lingering over your fingers. His thumb brushed over the sensitive skin of your wrist, pressing lightly against your pulse.

“Always do” he murmured.

Heat coiled in your stomach.

You knew you needed to leave before things spiraled right here in the studio, but every second stretched out, every movement felt drawn-out, and teasing.

Finally, you both grabbed your coats, the fabric sliding over your skin like an afterthought. He helped you with yours, pulling it over your shoulders, his fingers grazing your bare collarbone before smoothing the lapel down.

“Ready?” he asked.

Hell yes. You thought.

But you nodded anyway.

As he led you toward the door, you reached out, grasping his arm—needing the connection, needing to feel him under your fingers. His muscles flexed slightly under your touch, but he didn’t say anything, just let you hold on as he opened the door and led you outside into the cool night air.

The walk to the car was slow. Tension curled between you like thick smoke, wrapping around every step, every glance. The air was crisp, but it did nothing to cool the heat simmering between you.

William opened the passenger door, stepping aside to let you in. But before you could move, he leaned in close, one hand bracing against the car beside your head.

His scent wrapped around you—something rich, something warm, something distinctly him. His lips hovered near your ear, his breath warm as he murmured, “Get in bébé”

It was a simple request. But the way he said it—commanding, full of promise—made your entire body shiver.

You swallowed hard and slid into the seat, your thighs pressing together instinctively. He closed the door with a soft click, rounding the car and slipping into the driver’s seat with effortless grace.

The car was silent as he started the engine, but the energy between you was deafening. The air felt thick, heavy, charged. You shifted slightly, trying to find some semblance of control, but when William’s hand landed on your thigh—casual, but firm—your breath caught in your throat.

His fingers flexed slightly, his thumb brushing along the inside of your knee.

“You’re quiet” he mused, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye as he pulled onto the road. “Something wrong?”

You turned to look at him, his profile sharp under the glow of the streetlights. His jaw was tight, his grip on the wheel firm. He looked composed, relaxed even—but you knew better. You could see it in the way his fingers drummed lightly against your skin, in the way his chest rose and fell just a little too calculated.

You exhaled slowly. “Just thinking about… getting home.”

William let out a soft hum, the corner of his mouth twitching upward. “Yeah?” His fingers inched higher up your thigh. “What about it?”

Your pulse thrummed. “Just that I’d rather be there right now”

That did something to him. His fingers twitched against your skin, his grip tightening slightly. His jaw clenched, and for the first time, he broke eye contact with the road for a brief second, flicking his gaze toward you.

Dark. Heated. Possessive.

His foot pressed just a little harder on the gas.

The rest of the ride was silent, but the tension didn’t fade—it only thickened, crackling between you like static electricity. Every glance, every breath, every small shift in your seat felt loaded, stretched taut.

By the time he pulled into the driveway and cut the engine, you were already reaching for the door handle. But before you could move, his hand shot out, gripping your wrist.

“Aye aye wait, let me get your door” he murmured, sounding slightly confused as to why you would ever reach for your door when he always does.

You turned to him, your breath catching when you saw the look in his eyes—dark, hungry, filled with all the things he hadn’t said yet.

Slowly, he reached for his own door handle, stepping out first before rounding the car. He opened your door just as slowly, offering his hand.

You took it.

The second your fingers laced together, he pulled you up—too fast, too sudden, too intentional. You barely had time to react before you were against the car, his body crowding yours, his hands bracing on either side of you.

“Still thinking about getting home?” he asked, voice a rough whisper.

You swallowed hard, your pulse pounding against your ribs. “Not really. No”

A slow, knowing smirk curved his lips. “Good”

And then—finally—he kissed you.

It was soft at first, teasing, like he was savoring the moment. But then you sighed into him, pressing closer, and something in him snapped.

His hands gripped your waist, his body pressing into yours, deepening the kiss with a slow, consuming hunger. His fingers traced along your spine, his grip tightening like he couldn’t get enough, like he needed more.

By the time he pulled back, his breathing was uneven, his forehead resting against yours.

“I’ve been wanting to kiss you like this for hours” you murmured.

Your lips tingled, your whole body alight with want. “You don’t have to wait anymore.” he whispered, trailing his fingers up your arm, across your collarbone, tilting your chin up to meet his gaze. A deep chuckle rumbled through his chest, vibrating against you.

And with that, he led you inside and to your bedroom—where waiting was no longer an option.

A slow, heavy silence settled between you, thick with anticipation. William’s grip on your wrist lingered, his thumb stroking over the delicate skin just above your pulse, tracing slow circles that sent a ripple of heat straight through you.

Neither of you spoke. You didn’t need to.

His dark eyes roamed over you, taking in the rise and fall of your chest, the way your lips parted slightly as you tried to steady your breath. His own breathing was measured, deep, his broad chest rising and falling in a rhythm that felt too controlled—like he was holding something back.

Your skin prickled as he finally moved, his free hand reaching up to toy with the lapel of your coat. His fingers, long and warm, ghosted over the fabric before he slipped one button free. Then another. And another.

Each movement was excruciatingly slow.

Your breath caught as the last button came undone, the heavy material sliding apart. His hands, now unhindered, spread the coat open, his fingers grazing over the thin fabric of your top beneath. The contrast of warmth against cool air sent a shiver down your spine.

William smirked. “Cold bébé?”

You swallowed hard, your voice barely above a whisper. “No”

His smirk deepened, approval flickering in his gaze. He slid the coat off your shoulders, the weight of it disappearing as it pooled at your feet with a soft thud.

For a moment, he simply looked at you.

His gaze swept over every inch of exposed skin, dark and intense, lingering on the way your nipples strained against your top, the way your thighs pressed together like you were already trying to contain the tension thrumming through you.

Then, he sat down.

Spreading his legs, he pulled you between them, his hands gripping the backs of your thighs, firm and possessive. The heat of his palms burned through your jeans, his thumbs tracing lazy circles just beneath the curve of your ass.

He leaned in.

His breath, warm and steady, fanned over your clothed stomach as his lips hovered—so close, yet refusing to touch. His hands squeezed gently, fingers digging in just enough to make you feel him, grounding you in the moment.

Then, he lifts your shirt slightly and pressed his lips to your skin.

Soft. Slow. Controlled.

A sharp inhale escaped you as his mouth moved lower, pressing open-mouthed kisses to your hip bones, his tongue flicking out to taste, to tease. Each kiss lingered, warm and wet, the faintest hint of teeth grazing your skin before he soothed the spot with his tongue.

You clenched your fingers into his hair, not pulling—just holding. Needing something to keep you tethered.

William inhaled, then exhaled against you, his voice a deep murmur vibrating against your skin. “You smell so good” he mused, pressing another kiss, this time firmer, just above your waistband.

His fingers toyed with the button of your jeans, flicking it open with a practiced ease. Then, just as slowly, he dragged the zipper down, the sound loud in the quiet room. His fingers slipped beneath the waistband, brushing against your lower stomach, teasing but not rushing.

“Lift” he instructed, voice low, smooth as silk.

You obeyed, shifting just enough for him to tug your jeans down your hips, dragging them over your thighs, your calves, before discarding them somewhere behind him. The cool air kissed your newly exposed skin, making every nerve stand on end.

His eyes darkened as they trailed over you, lingering on the damp spot forming on your panties. He didn’t comment, but the way his jaw tensed, the way his hands flexed against your hips, told you everything.

Then he moved again, gripping the hem of your top and pulling it over your head in one smooth motion. Your arms instinctively crossed over your chest, but William tsked, catching your wrists and gently pulling them away.

“Laisse-moi te voir chérie” (Let me see you darling)

The way he said it—low, reverent, like he was asking and demanding all at once—made your stomach tighten.

His fingers traced over your bare skin, the lightest touch, following the curves of your waist, up to the swell of your breasts, stopping just shy of touching where you wanted him most. His eyes flicked up to yours, gauging your reaction, watching the way your breath hitched.

He didn’t say it out loud but his eyes told you how beautiful he thinks you are. How much he admired you, in every way.

Your skin felt hot, your whole body thrumming with the weight of his attention. “William…”

He hummed, pleased by your breathlessness.

Then, swiftly, he guided you down onto the bed, following until he hovered over you, his weight pressing into you just enough to make your breath catch.

His lips found your throat, pressing slow, lingering kisses before his teeth grazed against the sensitive skin. You gasped as he sucked, harder this time, leaving behind a mark you knew would still be there in the morning.

His hands mapped your body, fingertips tracing, memorizing. His soft palms scraped lightly against your soft skin, the contrast sending a delicious shiver through you.

One hand drifted lower, teasing, testing, before slipping between your thighs. His fingers brushed over your panties, feeling the heat, the dampness, his breath hitching slightly against your neck.

“Déjà si mouillée” (Already so wet) he murmured, voice thick with approval. “I haven’t even touched you properly yet”

Before you could respond, he slid your panties down, taking his time, his fingers grazing over your thighs as he discarded them. His gaze stayed locked on you, dark, smoldering, as he traced a single fingertip along your inner thigh, moving achingly slow toward your center.

Then—finally—he pushed one finger inside.

A sharp gasp slipped from your lips as he moved, slow, measured, his other hand pressing against your stomach to keep you still. He worked you open, thrusting in and out at an unhurried pace, watching your every reaction. You could already hear your juices drenching his finger.

“Look at you” he murmured, almost to himself. “So perfect for me”

A second finger joined the first, stretching you just enough to make your back arch, your thighs trembling around him. He curled them, pressing up—hard—against that spot that made your whole body jolt.

A smirk tugged at his lips. “How does that feel mon amour?” His voice was rough, almost teasing. “Are you gonna cum for me bébé?”

You couldn’t answer—not with the way your breath hitched, your body responding to every slow, devastating movement.

Then, just as you teetered on the edge, William withdrew his fingers.

A whimper of protest left you, but he only chuckled, sitting up slightly. He lifted his fingers to his lips, his tongue darting out to taste you. His eyes locked on yours the entire time, as he wrapped his lips around his fingers.

Your breath hitched, heat pooling in your stomach all over again.

Then—he pressed those same fingers against your lips.

“Open”

The single word sent a shiver through you. You obeyed, parting your lips as he slid his fingers inside, letting you taste yourself on him. His gaze darkened, his smirk deepening as he watched you suck them clean.

He hummed murmured, voice thick with approval.

And then—he reached for his belt.

His eyes stayed locked on yours, his smirk promising something slow, something devastating, as he murmured, “Let’s see if you can take more bébé”

You lick your lips, anticipation thrumming through your veins as you watch him undress with a torturing slowness. His fingers grip the hem of his shirt, pulling it over his head, revealing a chiseled torso adorned with tantalizing muscles and glistening skin that catches the dim light. Each ridge and contour of his abdomen flexes as he unbuttons his pants, letting them drop to the floor with a soft thud. His boxers follow suit, sliding down his thick, toned thighs, leaving him completely exposed. Your eyes widen as his dick springs free—thick, veined, and proud. Its light brown shaft contrasts against his skin, the pink tip flushed and needy, curving slightly to the left as it pulses with arousal. Your breath catches, and your mouth waters at the sight of him.

“I can take more” you murmur, voice trembling with desire, the words a plea that escapes your lips. “I need more”

His eyes darken, filled with an insatiable hunger that matches your own. Slowly, he lowers himself between your thighs, the warmth of his skin searing against yours as he presses your legs wide, framing his hips. His hands trail up the soft curves of your thighs, spreading you open as he dips his head to capture your lips. His kiss is deep, consuming—his lips melding with yours in a passionate dance, tongues tangling as if he’s tasting you for the first time. His mouth moves with an urgency that leaves you breathless, every kiss more demanding than the last, like you’re the only thing sustaining him.

His lips trace a scorching path down your neck, his breath hot against your skin, making your pulse flutter wildly beneath his touch. When his mouth finds that sensitive spot just below your ear, he sucks gently, his teeth grazing your skin, sending shivers down your spine. A soft moan escapes your lips, but it quickly turns into a desperate whimper as he positions himself, the head of his dick pressing insistently against your entrance. Slowly, achingly slow, he pushes inside, stretching you open, inch by torturous inch, until he’s fully seated within you.

A guttural groan rumbles from deep in his chest, vibrating against your collarbone as he buries himself to the hilt. His forehead rests against yours, eyes closed, breathing ragged and heavy. “No matter how many times I’m inside you” he murmurs, his voice thick and gravelly, fingers threading through your hair tenderly, “it feels better every time” His eyes open, locking onto yours with an intensity that steals your breath away, his gaze filled with raw, unspoken emotion.

He stays still, letting you adjust, the fullness of him sending sparks of pleasure rippling through your body. Then, he begins to move—slow, languid strokes that drag against your walls, setting every nerve ending ablaze. He moves with expert precision, each thrust deeper than the last, his hips rolling in a sensual rhythm that leaves you gasping for air. His eyes never leave yours, watching every flicker of pleasure that crosses your face, memorizing each soft moan and breathless sigh.

But soon, his restraint wanes. He shifts, lifting both your legs with effortless strength, draping them over his broad shoulders. The new angle sends him deeper, the thick length of him pressing against that perfect spot inside you, making your back arch off the mattress. He leans forward, folding you in half beneath him, his chest pressing against yours, his skin slick with a fine sheen of sweat. His thrusts grow harder, more demanding—each one a powerful surge that forces desperate cries from your lips.

Your nails dig into the thick muscle of his biceps, fingers clutching desperately as he pounds into you with an unrelenting rhythm. Every stroke is deep, precise, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. His body is a furnace above you, his skin burning against yours, slick with sweat. You can feel the heat radiating from him, every flex of his muscles, every slight shudder of restraint in his body as he pushes deeper, stretching you to your limit.

“Oh William” you whimper, voice breaking as the intensity of his thrusts robs you of breath. Your head falls back against the pillows, but he doesn’t let you escape—his large hand cups your jaw, tilting your face back toward his. His dark eyes are hooded, half-lidded with lust, locked onto you with a gaze so heated it makes your stomach coil tighter. He watches every flicker of pleasure that crosses your face, drinking in each gasp, each moan, each helpless whine that spills from your lips.

“This what you wanted baby?” His voice is rough, laced with desire, the deep timbre vibrating through your very core. “Me fucking you nice and hard, just like this, yes?” His words are punctuated by a sharp thrust that knocks the air from your lungs, makes your toes curl, makes your back arch into him.

“Yes” you breathe, voice barely above a whisper, barely coherent through the pleasure wracking your body. Your fingers slip down his arms, nails dragging over the sculpted ridges of his forearms, gripping at anything you can hold on to. “Oh, yes—please.”

A dark smirk tugs at the corner of his lips, but his expression is wrecked with need, his body trembling slightly as he tightens his grip on your thighs. His fingers sink into the soft flesh there, anchoring you beneath him as his pace quickens. His hips snap forward with a bruising force, slamming into you over and over, deeper and harder, until the pleasure borders on unbearable. The room fills with the intoxicating sound of your bodies colliding—wet, fevered, the slap of skin against skin mixing with his deep, husky grunts and your breathless cries.

His dick drags along your inner walls, each thrust hitting every single perfect spot inside you, making your vision go dark at the edges. But it’s the way his pelvis grinds against your swollen clit with each deep stroke that sends shockwaves of pleasure radiating through you, your body wound so tightly it feels like you might snap.

Your breath stutters, chest heaving, every muscle in your body tightening as the pleasure mounts higher, higher, until you’re teetering on the edge. The coil in your belly twists, tighter and tighter, heat pooling low in your stomach until you feel like you’re about to burst.

“Uhh baby—I’m cumming,” you gasp, your voice raw, trembling. Your hands fly to his back, nails digging in, desperate, as your entire body locks up beneath him. “Please don’t stop”

He groans at your words, his thrusts growing more erratic, more desperate. His head falls forward, forehead pressing to yours as he slams into you, driving you over the edge. And then it hits—your orgasm crashes through you like a tidal wave, white-hot and all-consuming. Your body shakes, your walls fluttering around him, gripping him so tightly that he lets out a strangled groan, his pace stuttering as he fights to hold on.

But he doesn’t stop. He rides you through it, fucking you harder, deeper, until you’re a trembling, breathless mess beneath him. The overstimulation has you gasping, your body writhing as he wrings every last drop of pleasure from you.

A few more hard, punishing thrusts, and then he’s pulling out, scrambling up your body. His hand wraps around his dick, stroking himself furiously, his jaw clenched, his muscles glistening as he hovers over you. His breaths come in sharp, ragged pants, his eyes locked onto you—your heaving chest, your sweat-slicked skin, the way your body glows in the aftermath of your orgasm.

And then—he breaks.

A desperate moan rips from his throat as he spills himself over you, hot, thick ropes of cum painting your chest, your stomach, even reaching your neck. His entire body shudders, his hips jerking as he milks the last of his release onto your skin. His head falls back, eyes squeezed shut, the sheer force of his orgasm wracking through him, leaving him trembling above you.

When he finally comes down, his chest still heaving, his dark eyes meet yours once more. You hold his gaze as you dip your fingers into the sticky warm mess on your skin, gathering it up and bringing it to your lips. Slowly, you suck each finger clean, savoring the taste of him with a teasing smirk.

The sight has him groaning again, his head falling forward as he watches, utterly wrecked, utterly mesmerized. His hands drop to the bed beside you, as if he needs to brace himself, as if the sheer filth of you licking him off your fingers is enough to make his legs give out.

“Fuck” he breathes, voice hoarse, shaky, still dazed from the intensity of it all.

Leaning down, he captures your mouth in a slow, languid kiss, tasting himself on your lips, his tongue sweeping across yours in a possessive, lingering claim. Finally, he pulls back, collapsing beside you, strong arms wrapping around your waist as he pulls you against his chest.

His fingers trace lazy patterns along your spine, and with a breathless chuckle, he murmurs, “Maybe we should do dates like this more often. You laugh shyly into his chest “I don’t think we’ll make it out of the parking lot if we go on another date like that”

The afterglow settles between you like a warm, lazy haze, your bodies tangled together beneath the soft sheets. His strong arms stay wrapped around you, his fingers tracing idle patterns along your bare back, grounding you in the quiet intimacy that lingers after the storm of pleasure. Your heartbeat is still erratic, your body still thrumming with the echoes of his touch, but in this moment, you feel nothing but contentment. William presses a lingering kiss to your forehead, his lips warm and tender, a stark contrast to the way he had just ravaged you. His scent—deep, musky, unmistakably his—surrounds you, mixing with the remnants of sex in the air, making you never want to leave this bed.

[snowseasonmademe]

Island of us

word count : 1,700+

warning ‼️: mentions of conception, flash back to the beginning of the conception, descriptions of intimacy but not straight up smut

paring : husband aurelien and wife blackfemale reader

summary : as you enjoy your much needed beacation you can’t keep your secret bundle of joy away from your husband any longer.

note: i really loved writing this one. i live for a lover boy, soft aurelien fic but there aren’t too many so i figured i would just write one myself :) tell me what you think!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Seychelles sun hung low in the sky, casting shades of amber and gold across the crystalline waters as the gentle breeze kissed your skin. You stood barefoot on the deck of your private villa, a silk robe fluttering around your body as the sounds of the ocean lulled you into a blissful trance. Behind you, the faint shuffle of Aurélien’s movements brought a smile to your lips. Even after four years of marriage, the anticipation of being near him still sent a ripple of warmth through you.

“Taking in the view without me?” His deep voice carried over, laced with playful accusation.

“I am” you teased, turning back to the horizon. “But it’s not nearly as nice as the view inside.”

You glanced over your shoulder, your eyes drawn to the sight of him standing in the warm glow of the late afternoon sun. He looked effortlessly relaxed, his loose linen pants hanging low on his hips, the soft fabric swaying slightly in the gentle ocean breeze. His shirt was unbuttoned, the light material framing the sculpted planes of his chest and the faint sheen of moisture that lingered on his golden skin from a quick rinse in the outdoor shower.

His curls were damp, tousled and glistening, catching the sunlight in a way that made him seem almost ethereal. A few stray droplets clung to his jawline, trailing down the strong column of his neck before disappearing beneath the open folds of his shirt. He held two glasses of chilled passionfruit juice in his hands, the condensation dripping down the sides of the glass and pooling at his fingertips.

The casual ease in his stance made your heart skip a beat. His lips curved into a soft, knowing smile when he noticed you watching him, his dark eyes warm and filled with a quiet kind of affection. He walked toward you with a confidence that was unhurried, his movements fluid and deliberate, as though he had all the time in the world to spend with you.

The light filtered through the palm trees above, casting dappled shadows across his skin, and as he approached, the faint scent of saltwater and his cologne wrapped around you like a comforting embrace.

“I thought you could use this” he said, his voice low and smooth, holding out one of the glasses to you. The coolness of the glass against your fingers was a sharp contrast to the warmth radiating from his hand as it lingered briefly against yours.

You smiled, taking the glass and sipping the sweet, tangy juice. “Perfect timing,” you replied, your voice soft, your eyes lingering on his as you felt the familiar flutter of butterflies in your chest.

He leaned against the railing beside you, his gaze drifting out toward the shimmering turquoise water. “This view never gets old” he murmured, but the way his eyes flicked back to you made it clear that he wasn’t just talking about the ocean.

Aurélien chuckled as he approached, his bare feet silent against the wooden deck. “Flattery will get you everywhere by the way, madame.” He handed you a glass and slid an arm around your waist, pulling you flush against him. His lips brushed the curve of your neck, sending a pleasant shiver through your body. “But you already know that.”

You leaned back into him, savoring the warmth of his skin against yours. “What can I say? I have good taste—in views and in husbands.”

“And I have impeccable taste in wives.” He turned you gently, cupping your face in one hand as he brought his lips to yours. The kiss was soft, unhurried, as if time itself had slowed just for the two of you. The scent of the ocean mingled with the faint citrus of his cologne, wrapping you in an intoxicating cocoon.

Breaking the kiss, he rested his forehead against yours, his brown eyes shimmering with mischief. “What do you say we skip dinner tonight? Room service and a dip in the pool sound more appealing.”

“Are you suggesting we ignore the five-star restaurant you insisted we book three months ago?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

He grinned. “I’m suggesting that we enjoy the one-star experience of me feeding you grapes while we float under the stars. Far more romantic, don’t you think?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “I can’t stand you.”

“And yet, here you are still standing in my arms.” He nipped playfully at your lower lip before pulling away, leaving you breathless and more than a little flustered.

The night unfolded just as he suggested, effortlessly romantic and entirely unhurried. Dinner plans were abandoned, replaced by a tray of vibrant fresh fruit—mango, passionfruit, and ripe berries—and decadent desserts delivered directly to your villa. The sweet aroma of caramelized pineapple mingled with the salty breeze drifting in from the ocean, creating a sensory backdrop that felt nothing short of magical.

The infinity pool, shimmering under the glow of soft underwater lights, became your private sanctuary. The water was warm, wrapping around you like a cocoon as you both slipped in, the cool air above only enhancing the inviting heat of the pool. Beyond the pool’s edge, the ocean stretched out endlessly, its rhythmic waves harmonizing with the soft hum of crickets hidden in the lush greenery surrounding the villa.

Aurélien leaned back against the edge of the pool, his arms stretched out, his relaxed posture a picture of ease. His dark eyes glimmered under the faint moonlight as they watched you move through the water, his lips curving into a playful smirk.

“You’re staring” you teased, tilting your head with a knowing smile.

“Can you blame me?” he shot back, his deep voice carrying a warmth that sent a shiver through you despite the heat of the water.

It wasn’t long before his playful side emerged, and he waded toward you with mischief written all over his face. “You’re too relaxed” he teased, his hands slipping to your waist.

“What are you doing?” you asked, narrowing your eyes as he began to lift you slightly out of the water.

“Just helping you enjoy the pool” he replied, laughing as he tried to hoist you over his shoulder.

You let out a shriek, clinging to him for balance as water splashed around you both. “Aurélien, don’t you dare!”

Your stern glare only made his grin wider, but your mock-serious tone eventually gave way to laughter as he loosened his grip, letting you slide back into the water with a dramatic splash. The sound of your giggles echoed into the night, mingling with the soothing symphony of waves in the distance.

When you finally caught your breath, you swam to him, wrapping your arms around his neck in retaliation. “You’re lucky you’re cute” you muttered, pressing a kiss to his jawline, your lips lingering against his warm, wet skin.

“I know” he said with a low chuckle, his hands settling on your hips to pull you closer. His gaze softened, his playfulness fading into something deeper as his thumb traced slow circles against your waist.

The two of you drifted together in the quiet stillness of the pool, the only sounds now the faint lap of water and the occasional crash of waves against the shore. The night felt endless, and for once, there was no need to rush—just the two of you, lost in your own private paradise.

Later, as the moon hung high in the sky, you found yourselves lying on the pool’s edge, your bodies still damp as the night breeze swept over you.

“Do you ever think about how we got here?” you asked softly, tracing a finger along his chest.

“All the time” he replied, his voice low and intimate. “Sometimes I wake up and can’t believe it’s real—that I get to call you my wife, that we built this life together.”

You smiled, pressing a kiss to his chest. “I feel the same way. Especially now.”

There was a pause, and you felt his body tense slightly beneath yours. “Especially now?” he repeated, his tone curious.

You pushed yourself up on one elbow, looking down at him. The moonlight illuminated his features, highlighting the slight furrow of his brow and the spark of concern in his eyes. “I wasn’t planning to tell you like this” you began, your voice trembling with emotion. “But… Aurélien, I’m pregnant.”

For a moment, the world seemed to stand still, the weight of your words hanging in the air between you. His dark eyes widened, a flicker of disbelief softening into something deeper as his lips parted, as though he wanted to speak but couldn’t find the words. His chest rose and fell with uneven breaths, his entire body frozen in place as if his brain was racing to catch up with the reality of what you’d just said.

Then, as the realization began to sink in, his expression transformed. The hesitation melted away, replaced by pure, unfiltered joy that lit up his face like the morning sun breaking through the clouds. His brows lifted, his mouth curved into a slow, disbelieving smile, and his eyes glistened with an emotion so raw it nearly brought fresh tears to your own.

“Are you serious?” he asked, his voice low and trembling with a mix of excitement and awe. He sat up so quickly that he nearly knocked you over, his hands instinctively reaching for yours, gripping them tightly as if anchoring himself to this moment. “You’re not joking, right? Because if you’re joking, I—”

“I’m not joking” you interrupted, your laughter bubbling up through the tears that blurred your vision. “I’m six weeks along. I found out a few days before we left, but I wanted to be sure before I told you.”

His gaze dropped briefly to your stomach, his hands trembling slightly as they moved, almost hesitantly, to rest on your waist. His fingers brushed against you with a tenderness that made your heart ache, his touch reverent as if he couldn’t quite believe what was happening.

“You’ve been carrying this secret for days?” he asked softly, his voice thick with emotion. “How—why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“I wanted it to be perfect” you admitted, your voice cracking as the weight of your decision hit you. “I wanted us to have this moment—here, where everything feels right.”

His eyes met yours again, a tear slipping down his cheek unnoticed as he pulled you closer, cradling your face in his hands. “Ah my wife is pregnant” he whispered, his voice a mixture of awe and love. “We’re going to be parents.”

Hearing him say it out loud made the reality hit even harder, and you nodded, tears spilling freely now as you both laughed and cried, holding onto each other like the world had just shifted beneath your feet in the best possible way.

Aurélien stared at you, his hands cradling your face as if you were the most precious thing in the world. His gaze flicked from your eyes to your lips, then down to your belly, as if he were trying to process the enormity of your words. “We’re going to have a baby” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “We made a baby. You and me.” The way he said it—awed, almost reverent—made your heart swell. His thumbs brushed gently across your cheeks, and his lips quirked into a crooked, boyish grin. “Mon amour, we really don’t miss, do we?”

“Well” you teased, biting your lip as the blush crept up your neck. “You certainly put in the work.” A quiet laugh bubbled out of you, but it was muffled when Aurélien pulled you into his chest, wrapping you in his strong arms. His embrace was warm and grounding, his heart pounding steadily against your ear as you both soaked in the reality of what was to come. “You should probably be thanking me for being such a good teammate” you added, your tone playful. “I carried a lot of that effort.” He tilted your chin up, his grin widening as he kissed the tip of your nose. “You’re right. You’re the MVP of this team.”

His laugh was deep and full of relief, echoing like a melody in the open night air. “I mean, I distinctly remember how much effort I put into it. What can I say? I’m a man who commits.” His hands moved down to rest lightly on your hips, his fingers drawing slow, lazy circles that sent a tingle up your spine. He leaned in closer, his breath warm against your skin as he added, “And I don’t just mean on the pitch.” His tone was teasing, but the heated look in his eyes made your pulse quicken. You swatted at his chest, laughing despite yourself.

Your cheeks flushed as memories of that night flooded back. It had been a rainy evening in May, the kind of night where the sound of the downpour against the windows begged for warmth and closeness. The air had been thick with the earthy scent of rain and the seductive notes of his cologne, a combination that lingered in your mind like a favorite song. You had slipped into his oversized soccer jersey, the fabric soft against your skin and far too big, the hem grazing your thighs. He’d smiled when he saw you in it, his eyes flicking over you with a mixture of amusement and unfiltered desire.

Throughout the evening, his gaze had lingered on you, darkening with each subtle shift of your body under the jersey. When he caught you absentmindedly fiddling with the edge of the fabric, the teasing smirk on his lips gave away his thoughts. The tension had simmered between you all day, growing heavier with every stolen glance and casual touch.

By the time you both retreated to the bedroom, the unspoken restraint between you had completely unraveled. The moment the door closed, the atmosphere shifted, the dim light casting shadows across the room as he stepped closer. His hands were on you in an instant, pulling you flush against his chest, his lips crashing into yours with a hunger that stole the breath from your lungs.

Nothing else mattered as his hands and lips explored you, his touch igniting a fire that made the rain outside feel like a distant memory. That night, wrapped in the warmth of his embrace, you surrendered entirely to him, the sound of the rain blending with the whispered promises that only the two of you could hear.

6 weeks ago~

As Aurélien enters the room, the faint creak of the door announces his presence before his deep, honeyed voice fills the space. “Mon amour” he murmurs, his French accent wrapping around the words like a caress. His mischievous smile widens as his gaze lands on you, lounging in his oversized jersey that just barely skims your thighs. He locks the door behind him with a quiet click, his long-sleeve compression shirt clinging to his chiseled torso and his sweatpants slung low on his hips, teasing you with every step he takes closer.

“You’re staring” you tease, raising a brow as his muscular frame looms over the bed, casting a shadow across your body.

“How can I not?” he counters smoothly, his voice dripping with playful arrogance. “You steal my jersey, take my bed, and still look better in both than I do. It’s unfair, vraiment.”

You laugh softly, shaking your head at his dramatic tone, but your breath catches as he sits on the bed and effortlessly pulls you onto his lap, his strong hands sliding around your waist with an air of possessiveness that makes your skin tingle.

“Baby” he whispers against your neck, his lips brushing your skin in a way that sends shivers down your spine. His large hands begin to creep up your thighs, fingers teasing the hem of the jersey. “We need to make a little football player, yes?”

You giggle, nuzzling into his neck and inhaling his musky scent, laced with the faint, earthy notes of the football field. “You’re already planning positions for a baby that doesn’t exist yet?” you tease, letting your fingers trail over his broad chest, feeling the hard muscle beneath the thin fabric of his shirt. “And you’re so sure it’ll be a boy, huh?”

“Of course, yes” he replies, his tone rich with mock confidence as he hooks his fingers under the hem of the jersey, inching it higher to reveal your smooth, dark thighs. His lips hover just inches from yours, his smile downright sinful. “But boy or girl, it doesn’t matter. They will be strong, like their father” he says with a cocky grin before his voice softens “and beautiful, like their mother.”

“You’re something else” you whisper, biting your lip to hide your smile, though the warmth spreading through your chest betrays you.

“It’s only the truth, ma chérie” he murmurs, pressing his lips to your collarbone in soft, deliberate kisses that make your heart race. His hands splay over your stomach, his thumbs brushing the bare skin beneath the jersey as if imagining it round with life. “I can already see it. Our little miracle. Can’t you?”

Your teasing demeanor falters as his words sink in, their sincerity making your breath hitch. “Aurélien” you begin, your voice soft, but he doesn’t let you finish.

“Shh” he whispers, his lips curving into a smile against your skin. “No words. Just us.”

With a gentle but firm motion, he lifts you from his lap, placing you beneath him on the bed. His eyes lock onto yours, a perfect storm of love and desire swirling in their depths. Slowly, reverently, he peels the hoodie over your head, tossing it aside without a second thought. His gaze roams over you, lingering on the soft pink of your bralette against your dark skin, and he exhales deeply, as if the sight of you steals his breath.

“I love you so much mon amour. I cant wait for you have our baby” he says softly, his hands running over your bare belly, his touch warm and tender. “My baby’s mama” he adds, his voice thick with both adoration and lust.

Your lips part to respond, but all coherent thought dissolves as he leans down, pressing his lips to yours in a kiss that is slow, deep, and consuming. The world around you fades, leaving only the heat of his body, the strength of his touch, and the unspoken promise of the future you’re about to create together.

back to the present ~

“I think it was that night after your match” you mused, running a hand through his damp curls. “The night you scored that free kick and came home looking for an even bigger win.”

Aurélien grinned, his hands sliding down to rest on your hips. “I knew I was on form that night. Guess I should thank my teammates for setting me up so well.”

You rolled your eyes, swatting his chest. “Don’t push your luck, Tchouaméni.”

He caught your hand, bringing it to his lips. “I’m serious, though. I can’t believe this. You’re going to be the most incredible mother.”

“And you’ll be the most amazing father” you replied, your voice soft. “I can already see it.”

For a while, the two of you simply sat there, wrapped in each other’s arms and the magnitude of the moment. The weight of your news settled into something warm and grounding, a quiet assurance that your love had grown into something even bigger than the two of you.

As the night deepened, Aurélien carried you back inside, his strength and tenderness making your heart swell. He laid you gently on the bed, his lips finding yours in a kiss that was slow and deliberate, filled with the depth of his love for you.

“You know” he murmured against your skin as his hands roamed over your body, “I feel like I should thank Seychelles for this little miracle. Maybe it’s the air here. Or the sunsets. Or the fact that I can’t seem to keep my hands off you.”

“Maybe it’s all of the above” you replied, your voice hitching as his lips found the sensitive spot below your ear.

He hummed in agreement, his kisses growing bolder as he trailed them down your neck and across your collarbone. His hands mapped your curves with reverence, lingering on the slight swell of your belly as if he could already feel the life growing within you.

“Aurélien” you whispered, your hands threading through his hair as he continued his exploration of your body. “You’re going to drive me crazy.”

“Good” he replied, his voice husky. “Because you’ve been driving me crazy since the moment I met you.”

The night stretched on in a haze of passion and intimacy, the two of you utterly consumed by each other. Every touch felt electric, like rediscovering a familiar map with new terrain to explore, each caress igniting a fire that burned hotter than ever. Aurélien’s hands moved with purpose, his fingers tracing the curves of your body. He lingered at your waist, his palms warm and firm, before settling over the gentle curve of your belly. There, his touch softened, tender, as though he could already feel the faintest heartbeat of the life you were creating together. His lips followed the path of his hands, pressing tender kisses along your skin, trailing from your shoulder to the delicate hollow of your collarbone and down to the swell of your stomach.

Each kiss felt like a vow, his whispered praises in between making your heart ache with love. “My wife, I love you” he murmured against your skin, emphasizing wife, his voice low and thick with emotion. “Perfect. My everything.” His breath fanned over you, sending shivers down your spine, and the way he gazed up at you from where he knelt—eyes filled with awe and devotion—made you feel like the center of the universe.

The room was bathed in the soft glow of moonlight filtering through the sheer curtains, casting a silver sheen over the scene. It illuminated the sweat-slicked planes of his shoulders and the tender curve of your body beneath his touch, painting the moment in an ethereal light that made every movement between you feel sacred. Time seemed to stand still, the outside world fading as you and Aurélien became completely entwined—body, mind, and soul.

By the time the first rays of dawn began to filter through the curtains, painting the room in soft hues of pink and gold, you lay tangled in each other’s arms, the warmth of his body a comforting shield against the morning chill. Your bodies were sated, a pleasant ache lingering in your limbs as a reminder of the night’s passion, while your hearts felt impossibly full—overflowing with love, joy, and the quiet anticipation of what was to come. Aurélien’s strong arms enveloped you, holding you close as if he never wanted to let go, his breath slow and steady against your hair. He pressed a lingering kiss to your forehead, the tender gesture carrying an unspoken promise of devotion. His fingers moved in lazy, absentminded patterns on your back, tracing invisible shapes that sent a soothing warmth through you. Occasionally, his touch would pause, his fingertips pressing lightly against your skin as if savoring the connection, before continuing their gentle path. The room was quiet except for the faint hum of the ocean in the distance, the serenity of the moment cocooning you both in a world where nothing else mattered but the two of you—and the tiny life growing inside you.

“Thank you” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

“For what?” you asked, your eyes heavy with sleep.

“For being my everything,” he replied, his lips curving into a smile. “And for making me the happiest man in the world.”

As you drifted off in his arms, your head resting against the steady rise and fall of his chest, you couldn’t help but feel an overwhelming sense of peace. His warmth enveloped you, his heartbeat a soothing rhythm that seemed to sync perfectly with your own. The faint scent of his skin—a mix of salt, his cologne, and something uniquely him—wrapped around you like a lullaby, anchoring you to this perfect moment. You closed your eyes, letting the weight of his embrace and the soft whispers of the ocean beyond the villa lull you into a dreamy haze. A smile played on your lips as a singular thought nestled in your mind: no matter where life took you, no matter the challenges or changes ahead, as long as you had Aurélien by your side, you’d always have your own little paradise. Not just in Seychelles, but in every touch, every look, and every moment you shared with the man who was your home.

[snowseasonmademe]

Make love to me

“When my days look low, pull me in close and don’t let me go”

“When the world is at war, let our love heal us all”

word count: 3,753

warnings‼️ : SMUTTTT (but sweet passionate, loving smut🥰)

pairing : husband aurelien x black female wife reader

summary : your husband has been facing what feels like war in the media and all he wants to do is forget about it, so what better way to help him than to make love.

note: i know i said i was gonna wait till 12 but i couldn’t so, here you go. consider this my christmas gift to you. i hope you love it as much a i loved writhing it. just prepare yourselves for some straight up baby making scenes in this yall. i went a little crazy on the french in this but i put the translations for yall of course!! oh also the song is on repeat the whole time. i had to add that in for timeline purposes :) anyway, enjoy!!!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The apartment was quiet except for the soft hum of Beyoncé’s 1+1 playing from your speaker. You had picked the song intentionally—it was comforting, grounding, and tonight, you felt like you might need it.

Aurélien had texted you an hour ago saying he was on his way home, but there was something clipped about the message, a short tone that wasn’t like him. You knew he’d been struggling lately, battling the weight of expectations that came with playing at the highest level. It didn’t matter how well he performed; there was always someone on the internet with something to say, often cruel, thoughtless words meant to tear him down.

And Aurélien, for all his confidence on the field, had a heart that felt too deeply sometimes.

The sound of his key turning in the lock broke your thoughts. You looked up from your spot on the couch, wrapped in one of his hoodies, your bare legs stretched out over the cushions.

The door opened, and there he was—tall, broad, and beautiful, but carrying an energy that made the air in the room feel heavier. His dark curls were frizzy, his jaw set in a way that told you he’d been grinding his teeth. He stepped inside, dropped his gym bag by the door, and let out a frustrated sigh as he rubbed the back of his neck.

“Hey, baby” you greeted softly, not wanting to overwhelm him.

His eyes flicked to you, and though they softened for a moment, the tension in his body remained. “Hey.”

“You good?”

“Yeah” he said quickly, but the sharpness in his tone betrayed him. He walked into the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge, his movements rigid.

You got up and followed him, leaning against the counter as you watched him take a long sip. His Adam’s apple bobbed, and for a moment, you were distracted by the sheer perfection of him. But the crease between his brows brought you back.

“What’s wrong?” you asked gently.

He set the bottle down with a little more force than necessary and leaned against the counter opposite you, crossing his arms over his chest. “It’s nothing.”

“Aurélien.”

His name on your lips made him pause. He sighed again, dragging a hand down his face before finally meeting your eyes. “It’s just the same shit, you know? Every game, every performance, no matter what I do, people always have something to say. If I have a good match, it’s not good enough. If I make one mistake, I’m suddenly overrated. It’s exhausting.”

You nodded, understanding the weight of what he was saying. “I’m sorry, baby. People can be awful.”

“It’s like they forget I’m human” he continued, his frustration spilling over. “They don’t see the work I put in, the sacrifices I make. They just… they judge.”

You stepped closer, placing a hand on his arm. “You don’t have to carry all of that alone.”

He looked down at you, his eyes softening again, but this time with something deeper—gratitude, love. “You always know what to say” he murmured.

“Because I see you, Aurélien. The real you. Not the headlines or the tweets or the highlights. Just you.”

For a moment, he said nothing, his gaze searching yours as if trying to find an anchor in the storm. And then, in one swift motion, he pulled you into his arms. His embrace was strong, almost desperate, and you wrapped your arms around his waist, holding him just as tightly.

“I don’t deserve you” he whispered into your hair.

“Don’t say that” you said firmly, pulling back just enough to look up at him. “You deserve everything good in this world, and I’ll spend the rest of my life reminding you of that if I have to.”

His lips quirked up into a small smile, but there was something else in his eyes now—a spark, a flicker of heat that made your pulse quicken.

“Thank you” he said, his voice low.

“For what?” you laughed slightly

“For being you.”

Before you could respond, he leaned down and captured your lips in a kiss that was anything but gentle. It was hungry, desperate, as if he needed to lose himself in you to escape the weight of the world.

You melted into him, your hands sliding up his chest and around his neck. His hands gripped your waist, pulling you flush against him as he deepened the kiss.

“Baby” you murmured against his lips, your voice breathless.

“Let me forget” he whispered, his hands sliding under the hoodie you wore—his hoodie. His fingers brushed against your bare skin, igniting a fire that spread through your entire body.

“You can take what you need from me” you said, your voice barely audible but full of meaning.

In the bedroom, the atmosphere shifted like a storm breaking into calm—a transformation charged with electricity. The frustration and tension that had clung to him earlier melted away, replaced by something primal, raw: pure love. The air was thick with it, heavy and needy, every breath you took filling your lungs with his presence.

Aurélien stood at the edge of the bed, towering over you as you sat perched on the edge, your legs dangling loosely. His broad shoulders seemed even wider under the soft, warm light of the bedside lamp, casting shadows across the hard planes of his chest and abs. His hoodie—once your cocoon of comfort—lay discarded somewhere on the floor, leaving you exposed in just your simple black underwear.

His eyes were on you, dark and intense, moving over your body as though this was the last time he would have you like this. every curve, every dip, every inch, he adored you. The weight of his gaze sent a coolness down your spine, but it wasn’t discomfort you felt. It was anticipation.

“Je suis tellement amoureuse de toi, ma chérie” (I am so in love with you my darling) he murmured, his voice low and rough, as if the words were being dragged from the deepest part of him.

Your skin warmed under his scrutiny, a blush rising to your cheeks. You resisted the urge to look away, to shy from the intensity in his eyes, and instead met his gaze head-on. “You’re so perfect baby” you said, your voice soft but steady.

A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, the smallest curve of arrogance and appreciation. “Say it again” he commanded, his tone firm but not unkind, the dominant edge sending a thrill coursing through you.

You swallowed, your heart racing in your chest as your eyes locked with his. “You’re perfect, Aurélien.”

This time, your words were heavier, weighted with conviction and the gravity of the moment. Something shifted in his expression, his smirk softening into something more dangerous—something tender and possessive all at once.

He moved onto the bed with a grace that was almost predatory, his long frame caging you in as he leaned over you. His hands planted on either side of your body, the mattress dipping slightly under his weight. His proximity was intoxicating, his scent—woodsy and warm—wrapping around you like a drug.

His lips found your neck, soft at first, a ghost of a kiss as his breath tickled your skin. Then, he pressed his mouth more firmly, his teeth grazing the sensitive spot just below your ear. “I love you so much. My good girl” he whispered, his voice low and warm, like melted chocolate.

The simple words sent a jolt through you, your breath hitching as a shiver rippled down your spine. He chuckled softly, the sound vibrating against your skin, and it wasn’t lost on you that he enjoyed your reaction.

Aurélien’s hands moved then, large and warm as they slid over your body, exploring you with a purpose that felt urgent yet somehow slow. His fingers trailed up your thighs, pausing to knead at your hips before gliding along your waist and higher, brushing against the sides of your breasts. He didn’t rush, didn’t hurry; he savored, as though every touch was a declaration, every caress a promise.

When he kissed you again, it was different from the one in the kitchen. This kiss was slower, more thoughtful. His lips moved against yours with a purpose, coaxing, teasing, claiming. It wasn’t just a kiss—it was a conversation, an unspoken exchange of everything you felt for each other.

His tongue slid against yours, tasting, exploring, leaving you breathless and wanting more. His hands continued their exploration, every stroke, every press of his palms a reminder of his strength, his control.

“Je suis à toi bébé” (I am yours baby) he murmured against your lips, his voice rough and possessive, sending a thrill straight to your core.

“And I’m all yours” you whispered back, your voice trembling with need and sincerity.

Aurélien pulled back just enough to look at you, his dark eyes searching yours. He didn’t need to say anything else; his gaze alone told you everything he felt—that you were his anchor, his sanctuary, the only place he felt whole.

“And it’s me and you, That’s all we’ll have when the world is through” the music played on

Aurelien gazed up at you from between your thighs, his dark eyes smoldering with adoration. The dim lamp lighting flickered across his chiseled features, casting a warm glow on your skin. With a reverent tenderness, he slowly parted your folds, face to face with your dripping wet core.

He exhaled a shuddering breath, your intoxicating scent flooding his senses. He pressed a sweet kiss to your center, a promise of the passion to come. His tongue, ever so lightly, traced the length of you—a featherlight caress that sent tingles cascading through your body.

Aurélien gazed up at you from between your trembling thighs, his dark eyes blazing with a mixture of adoration and raw hunger. The dim, golden light from the bedside lamp danced across his sharp features, highlighting the strength of his jaw and the curve of his lips. His warm, broad hands cradled your thighs, holding you open with a reverence that made your breath hitch.

His gaze never left yours as he leaned in closer, his hot breath ghosting over your most sensitive flesh. Slowly, almost torturously, he parted you with the same care an artist might give their masterpiece, revealing your most delicate parts.

Aurélien exhaled a deep, shuddering breath, the sound laced with pure desire. Your intoxicating taste flooded his senses, drawing a low groan from the back of his throat. Without breaking eye contact, he pressed a soft, chaste kiss to your center—gentle, yet filled with a promise of the unrelenting passion that was ahead.

“Mon amour” he whispered, his voice low and thick with emotion, vibrating against your skin. “You taste so good”

His tongue flicked out to trace the length of you, a touch that sent a roll of hot shivers rippling through your body. Your fingers instinctively gripped the sheets, your chest heaving as he began to explore you with calculated precision.

Aurélien dipped his tongue into your entrance, savoring the tangy essence of you with a low groan of approval. He moved with a slowness that bordered on maddening, his tongue swirling and stroking with unrelenting attention. His lips followed, planting soft, open-mouthed kisses along your vulva, the sensation sending jolts of pleasure straight to your core.

The soft rasp of his stubble against your inner thighs only heightened your sensitivity, and the sound of his quiet moans was enough to drive you wild. His hands tightened on your thighs, his thumbs gently brushing against your skin as he held you open, his strong grip grounding you while his mouth sent you spiraling.

“Aurélien” you breathed, your voice trembling as he latched onto your clit, his lips wrapping around the sensitive bud with just the right amount of pressure. He suckled gently, his tongue flicking against you with expert precision.

He groaned deeply, the vibrations of his voice resonating against your most intimate parts, pulling an uncontrollable moan from your lips. The pure, unfiltered pleasure made your head tilt back, your fingers threading through his curls, tugging him impossibly closer.

Aurélien pulled back briefly, his breath hot against your glistening skin. He looked up at you, his dark eyes smoldering with intensity. “Look at me” he murmured, his voice rich and commanding.

You forced your gaze down, locking eyes with him, and the intimacy of the moment hit you like a wave. The connection, the unspoken language between you, was almost too much to bear.

“Je t’adore” (I adore you) he said, his voice soft but resolute, the words spoken like a vow.

His tongue returned to your clit, swirling delicate circles before pressing firmly against that spot that made you arch off the bed. His movements were calculated, measured—he knew your body better than you did, and he wielded that knowledge like a master craftsman.

Arousal coated your thighs, his chin and cheeks, the evidence of your pleasure only spurring him on. His lips and tongue lavished devoted attention to every nerve ending, every inch of you, as if he wanted to worship you until there was nothing left of you but bliss.

He took his time with you, drawing out every moment, every sensation until you were trembling beneath him. His lips and hands worked in tandem, finding every sensitive spot, every place that made you gasp or sigh or moan his name. He was meticulous and relentless, his touch firm yet tender, as though he wanted to ensure that you felt as cherished as he always made you feel.

Aurélien’s hands slid up your thighs, his thumbs pressing into the soft flesh just enough to ground you. His mouth moved with precision, alternating between soft, teasing strokes and deep licks that had you teetering on the edge of oblivion.

“Oh baby please don’t stop” you gasped again, your voice high and trembling. The sound of your voice desperate for him seemed to ignite something within him, and he doubled down, his tongue curling and stroking inside you in a way that unraveled you completely.

Your climax washed over you like a tidal wave, your body shaking beneath his relentless attention. He stayed with you through every moment, his mouth softening but never leaving you, as if he wanted to pull every last drop of pleasure from your trembling frame.

As you came down from the high, your breaths ragged and your body pliant beneath his hands, Aurélien pressed one last lingering kiss to your center. He rested his forehead against your inner thigh, his breathing heavy, his hands stroking your trembling legs as if to soothe you.

“You’re so beautiful when you cum Yn” he said softly, his voice still thick with emotion. His lips quirked into a small, satisfied smile as he gazed up at you. And in his eyes, you saw nothing but devotion.

“So when the world’s at war, let our love heal us all, help me let down my guard” the speakers sang quietly

Aurélien positioned himself between your trembling thighs, his broad shoulders framing you like a protective wall. His eyes locked onto yours, glossy and blown pupils, and his dark and molten with desire, as he gripped your hips with a reverence that made your heart stutter. Slowly, he pressed forward, his thick length stretching you inch by inch. The sensation was overwhelming—almost too much yet utterly perfect.

When he finally joined with you completely, the world outside the bedroom fizzled out. There was no noise, no criticism, no judgment—just the two of you, your bodies and souls tangled together in a rhythm that felt sacred.

“Mon amour, mon cœur” (My love, My heart) he whispered, his deep, husky voice tinged with a tremble that betrayed just how much this moment meant to him. His words, raw and intimate, wrapped around you like a bear hug as he buried himself until he couldn’t go anymore, the heat of him melding with your own.

For a moment, he stayed perfectly still, his forehead dropping to rest against yours. You felt his chest expand with a deep, shuddering breath, as though he was savoring every second of being fully inside you. “Tu es ma vie, mon seul et unique” (You are my life, my one and only) he murmured, the French rolling off his tongue like a prayer.

Your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, pulling him impossibly deeper. The way his body fit against yours felt like a key sliding into its lock, perfectly aligned and meant to be. His lips brushed against yours, tender and slow, his kiss carrying all the unspoken emotions that neither of you could fully articulate.

Then he began to move.

His hips rolled in a slow, tantric rhythm, every thrust designed to unravel you. His muscular chest pressed against your breasts, teasing your hardened nipples with the friction of his skin against yours. The room was filled with the intoxicating sound of his deep groans and your soft cries, the air thick with the scent of sex and sweat.

“Bébé” (baby) he groaned, his voice hoarse as he suddenly stilled, his length buried impossibly deep within you. Without warning, he shifted your positions. He sat back on his heels, your legs instinctively resting on his shoulders, your bodies perfectly aligned.

The new position sent a jolt of pleasure coursing through you, and he resumed his slow, deep thrusts, each one hitting a spot inside you that made your vision blur. His strong hands gripped your hips, guiding you as he lifted and lowered you onto his shaft. The controlled power of his movements made your head spin, and your nails raked down his hard biceps in a desperate attempt to hold on.

“Oh Aurélien” you gasped, his name falling from your lips like a plea. Your fingers tangled in his, tugging lightly, and he groaned in response, the sound vibrating through you.

“Regarde-moi” (Look at me) he demanded softly, his voice low and commanding. You opened your eyes, locking onto his, and the intensity in his gaze left you breathless. There was no escape from the intimacy of this moment; he was baring his soul with every thrust, and you felt the weight of his love in every touch.

He moved with purpose, his strong hands gripping your hips as he guided you both to a place that felt infinite. His forehead rested against yours, your breaths mingling as you held each other close.

“Say my name again” he murmured, his voice strained but commanding, and you didn’t hesitate.

“Aurélien” you gasped, your fingers digging into his shoulders as your body arched into him.

“C’est ça, mon amour” (That’s it my love) he whispered, his lips brushing against yours, his movements becoming slower, deeper, more deliberate. His voice was a low, raspy caress, the French rolling off his tongue like a melody.

Both of your moans echoed, your voices trembling with emotion, his every word heavy with sincerity as you clung to him, every part of you surrendering to the moment.

Aurélien’s eyes locked onto yours, his expression softening, though the intensity in his gaze never wavered. “Je te veux, pour toujours” (I want you forever) he murmured, his fingers threading through your hair, holding you as if to ensure you understood.

“I’m here” you whispered softly, your hands cradling his face as your eyes searched his. “I’m not going anywhere.”

His lips curved into a small, almost imperceptible smile before he pressed his forehead to yours, his breath warm against your skin. He didn’t need to say anything more. The weight of his love, his devotion, was in every touch, every movement, as he held you close.

“Oh make love to me…” the song continued, on repeat.

And that’s exactly what he did.

Aurélien held you close, his hands never straying far from your body, as though he couldn’t bear to let you go. His name fell from your lips like a prayer, and in that moment, nothing else mattered. Because together, you were whole. You were enough.

“You’re everything to me” he whispered, his accent thickening with emotion. His hands slid to cup your face, holding you steady as he captured your lips in a passionate kiss. The rhythm of his hips never faltered, slow and purposeful as he took you apart piece by piece.

He gently took your legs from his shoulders, his body never breaking its connection to yours. Pushing your knees up to your chest, he adjusted the angle, and the first thrust made you cry out, the new depth sending shockwaves through your body.

“Like this, chérie?” (darling) he murmured, his voice sultry and teasing as his hips began to move with more intensity. Each deep stroke ground against your clit, building the pressure inside you until you thought you might shatter.

“Yes” you hissed, your voice trembling with desperation as your nails dug into the muscles of his back. “Harder, Aurélien. Please fuck me harder.”

His lips curved into a dark, knowing smirk as he complied. His pace quickened, his hips slamming against yours with a force that made the bed creak beneath you. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, each thrust sending sparks of pleasure racing through your veins.

“Mon dieu” (my god) he growled, his voice ragged as sweat beaded on his bronzed chest. His powerful hands gripped your thighs, holding you in place as he drove into you with unrelenting passion. “I love fucking you” he rasped, his head dropping to kiss along your neck, his teeth biting down hard on his lip.

“Please Aurélien, I’m so close” you whimpered, your body arching off the bed as the tension in your core squeezing tighter and tighter.

He looked down at you, his dark eyes heavy-lidded with lust and love. “Je te ferai jouir bébé, je t'ai eu” (I will make you cum baby, I’ve got you) he promised, his voice rich and velvety as he shifted his angle slightly, driving deeper and grinding harder against that spot inside you that made you see stars.

With a final, powerful thrust, the coil inside you snapped. Your orgasm washed over you in waves, your body trembling and writhing beneath him as he drove you through the peak and beyond. The intensity of your release triggered his own, and with a deep groan, he buried himself completely inside you.

“Ahhh yesss” he breathed, his body shuddering as his release poured into you, warm and overwhelming. He held you close, his strong arms wrapping around you as though he never wanted to let you go.

As the aftershocks faded, Aurélien gently lowered your legs, his hands smoothing over your trembling thighs as he pressed tender kisses to your forehead and cheeks. “Tu es incroyable” (You are incredible) he murmured, his voice soft and full of awe.

You smiled up at him and hummed in adoration, just wanting to enjoy the silence and intimacy of this moment. Your fingers brushing through his damp curls.

His lips found yours once more, soft and lingering, carrying all the tenderness and devotion he had no words for. The kiss wasn’t rushed or hurried—it was steady, a slow melding of souls that seemed to transcend the physical. His hand cradled the side of your face, his thumb brushing gently over your cheek, looking deep into your eyes as if had had fallen in love all over again.

As his lips moved against yours, the rest of the seized to exist. The noise of scrutiny and doubt that haunted his days, the chaos of life outside these walls—all of it melted into insignificance. In this moment, there was only the warmth of your body beneath his, the taste of your lips, and the steady rhythm of your breaths mingling with his.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his dark eyes searching yours with a vulnerability that tugged at your heart. “Je t’aime” (I love you) he murmured softly, the words carrying a gravity that made your chest tighten.

“I love you too” you whispered back, your voice steady but thick with emotion.

Aurélien exhaled a long, contented sigh, his hand sliding down to intertwine with yours. He pressed a gentle kiss to your ring finger before settling beside you, pulling you into the protective embrace of his arms. The sheets tangled around your bodies, warm and soft, as you lay together in the quiet aftermath of your passion.

The steady beat of his heart beneath your ear anchored you, a soothing reminder that whatever storms lay beyond these walls, you’d weather them together. His fingers absentmindedly traced patterns along your back, his touch as intimate and reverent as it had been all night.

Outside, the night stretched on, the faint glow of moonlight spilling through the curtains. But in his arms, wrapped in the cocoon of his love, time felt irrelevant. You were safe here, cherished, seen in a way that felt like the purest form of freedom.

As your eyes began to flutter closed, Aurélien’s lips brushed your temple, a final whispered promise slipping from his lips. “Que tes plus beaux rêves se réalisent mon amour” (May your sweetest dreams come true my love)

And with that, you let yourself drift off, the world outside waiting for another day. For now, there was only this—his warmth, his love, and the unshakable bond that held the two of you together.

[snowseasonmademe]

Under the lights

word count : 2,914

warning ‼️ : smut

pairing : aurelien x black fem reader

summary : an evening out by yourself turns into a romantic, steamy night with your…..good friend.

note: lets just act like his house isn’t designed badly and it looks like how it’s described :) anyway, i hope you all enjoy and tell me what you think!!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Paris was alive with its usual magic—glittering lights, cobblestone streets kissed by the faint glow of streetlamps, and the hum of evening conversations spilling out from the cafés. You stepped out of your favorite bistro in the Marais, the evening air cool against your skin. You adjusted your scarf, glancing up at the Eiffel Tower sparkling in the distance. The sight always managed to steal your breath, even after living in the city for two years.

“Y/n” a deep voice called behind you.

You turned, your pulse quickening as you recognized the tall, striking figure approaching you.

Aurélien Tchouameni.

The star midfielder for the French national team and an international sensation. His face—sharp jawline, piercing brown eyes, and an effortless charm—was a regular on billboards and magazine covers. But here, in the intimate glow of the Parisian night, he was just Aurelien. No flashing cameras, no roaring stadium crowds.

“ Aurélien,” you said, your voice steady despite the flutter in your chest. “What brings you here?”

“I was hoping to see you.”

His words were simple, but the intensity in his gaze made your cheeks warm. You met him months ago at a gala you’d been covering as a journalist. Since then, he had found ways to linger in your life—chance encounters that never felt entirely accidental.

“You were hoping to see me?” you repeated, an eyebrow arching.

He smiled, that slow, devastating grin that had charmed millions but seemed crafted just for you in this moment. “Does that surprise you?”

“A little,” you admitted, folding your arms as you leaned against the lamppost. “Big-time football stars don’t usually frequent neighborhood cafés.”

“Maybe I wanted to try something new,” he replied, stepping closer. The space between you shrank, and the cool air suddenly felt warmer. Your heart raced, but you masked it with a smirk. “And you thought you’d find excitement here?”

“I’m finding it now,” he said, his voice lower, softer. His gaze dipped briefly to your lips before returning to your eyes. “Let me take you out tonight.”

You hesitated. You weren’t immune to Aurélien’s charm, but you weren’t the type to swoon over fame or flashy gestures. Still, there was something about him—something genuine behind the confidence.

“Where?” you asked, tilting your head.

“You’ll see,” he said, offering his hand.

You stared at his outstretched palm, the smooth tone of his skin contrasting against the dark fabric of his coat. Finally, you took it, letting his warmth spread through you.

An hour later, You found yourself seated at a small, candlelit bistro tucked away in one of Paris’s quieter streets. The restaurant was intimate, with soft jazz playing in the background and couples scattered at tables, lost in their own worlds.

“How did you find this place?” you asked as you sipped your wine.

“A teammate told me about it,” Aurélien said, leaning back in his chair. “Said it was perfect for nights when you want to disappear.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Disappearing isn’t something I’d imagine you’d be good at.”

He chuckled, a sound that seemed to vibrate through you. “You’d be surprised. I’m not always looking for the spotlight.”

“And what are you looking for now?” you challenged, meeting his gaze head-on.

“You,” he said simply.

Your heart skipped a beat, but you forced herself to play it cool. “That’s a bold answer.”

“I’m a bold man,” he replied, his lips curving into a grin.

You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head. “Do you always say exactly what’s on your mind?”

“With you, yes.”

The sincerity in his voice caught you off guard. For a moment, you forgot where you were, lost in the way his eyes seemed to see right through your carefully constructed walls.

“Tell me about you,” he said, leaning forward. “The real Y/n. Not the journalist with the sharp wit or the woman who keeps dodging my calls.”

You smirked. “Dodging your calls? I prefer to think of it as… being selective.”

“Selective, huh?” He chuckled, his hand brushing yours on the table. The touch was brief but electric. “Then I feel even more honored to be here.”

“You should,” you teased, though your voice softened.

You talked for hours, the conversation flowing as effortlessly as the wine. You found herself opening up in ways you hadn’t expected—about your upbringing in New York, your move to Paris to pursue journalism, and the struggles of balancing ambition with vulnerability. Aurelien listened intently, his gaze never wavering.

“And you?” you asked, curiosity finally getting the better of you. “What’s it like being… you?”

He shrugged, a hint of vulnerability flashing across his face. “It’s not as glamorous as people think. The pressure, the scrutiny—it can get overwhelming.”

“But you love it,” you said, studying him.

“I do,” he admitted. “But it’s nights like this that remind me why it’s worth it. Meeting people who see me for more than just the headlines.”

Your chest tightened at his words. You’d spent so much of your career dissecting public figures, analyzing their every move. Yet here, sitting across from Aurélien, he felt disarmingly real.

By the time you left the bistro, the city had quieted. You strolled down the cobblestone streets, your footsteps echoing in the stillness.

“Thank you for tonight,” You said, glancing up at him.

“I should be thanking you,” he replied, his hand brushing yours as you walked.

The silence between you was comfortable, the kind that didn’t need to be filled. When you reached a small park near his apartment, Aurélien stopped, turning to face you fully.

“Can I ask you something?” he said, his voice low.

“Depends on the question,” you replied, your lips curving into a smile.

He stepped closer, the space between them evaporating. “Do you want to come inside?”

Your breath hitched. The way he looked at you—like you were the only thing that mattered in the world—made it impossible to say no.

“Yes,” you said softly.

The smile that spread across his face was radiant, his eyes lighting up with a boyish charm that made her chest ache.

Without another word, he cupped your face in his hands, his touch warm against your chilled skin. His lips met yours, gentle at first, as if testing the waters. But when you responded, tilting your head to deepen the kiss, his intensity grew.

Your hands found their way to his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath his coat. He pulled you closer, one hand tangling in your curls, the other resting on your lower back.

When you finally broke apart, both breathless, he rested his forehead against yours.

As you took his hand, your lips still tingling from his kiss, you couldn’t help but smile. For once, you felt like the walls you built around yourself didn’t need to stay so high. Maybe, just maybe, you were ready to see where this could lead.

The soft hum of jazz filled the air as you stepped into Aurélien’s apartment.

You weren’t sure what you had expected when you agreed to come inside, but the cozy, understated elegance of his home surprised you. Warm lighting, minimalist decor, and a wall of bookshelves gave it a personality you hadn't anticipated.

"You live here?" you teased, setting your coat on the arm of the sofa.

"Disappointed?" he asked, stepping into the open kitchen.

"No," you admitted, walking toward him.

"I guess I expected something flashier. This is... nice."

He smiled as he poured two glasses of wine.

"I don't need flash at home. It's the one place where I can just be me."

As he handed you a glass, your fingers brushed, and that familiar spark ignited. You tried to focus on anything but the way his presence seemed to fill the room. You talked and laughed as easily as they had at the bistro, right now felt different. More intimate. By the time you moved to the couch, your nerves were buzzing. Aurélien sat close, your knees brushing, his scent— earthy and clean-pulling you in.

"You know," he said softly, "I've been thinking about you all week." Your heart skipped.

"Oh I’m sure you have" you say slightly joking

He leaned closer, his voice dropping." And now that you're here, I'm not sure how I'm supposed to let you leave."

You laughed, but the sound was shaky. "You’re a bold man."

"I am bold man." he murmured, in agreement, brushing a curl from your face,

The air thickened, charged with unspoken desire. His hand slid to your cheek, his thumb grazing your skin as he leaned in. When your lips met, the world seemed to tilt. His kiss was slow and deliberate, as if savoring every second. You melted against him, your hands finding his shoulders as he deepened the kiss. The soft hum of music faded, replaced by the sound of your breathing, the gentle rustle of fabric as his arms circled your waist. When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours once more, his eyes searching yours for permission to go further.

"Y/n," he whispered, your name a question and a promise all at once.

Your fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt as you nodded, your breath hitching. "Yes."

He lifted you effortlessly, carrying you toward the bedroom. The space was just as warm and inviting as the rest of his apartment, the soft glow of a bedside lamp casting shadows on the walls. Aurélien set you down gently, his hands never leaving you as he kissed you again, slower this time. His lips traced a path down your neck, his touch reverent as he explored your skin. Your head tilted back, your fingers tangling in his hair as you let herself surrender to the moment.

Aurelien's strong hands wrapped around your waist, pulling you close. He whispered your name "Y/n” his French accent making it sound like a secret. You unbuttoned his shirt, revealing chiseled abs and broad shoulders.

Your fingers traced the defined muscles, feeling the power that made him a force on the soccer field. Aurélien’s hands explored your curves, marveling at the beautiful mix of your bronze skin tones. He unzipped your dress, letting it pool at your feet, leaving you in black lace.

The dim light caressed your curves, making you look like a dark goddess. He stepped back to admire you. His breath caught in his throat. You moved closer, pressing your body against his. His lips found yours- hungry, possessive.

His hands moved to your thighs, lifting you up effortlessly. You wrapped your legs around him as he stumbled forward onto a plush love seat near an open window. The night air was cool on your bare skin, contrasting with the heat generated between you.

Aurélien broke the kiss to trail kisses down your neck, his teeth grazing your collarbone. Your head fell back, exposing more of your throat to his hungry mouth. He gripped your hips tightly, grinding his hardness against your core. You whimpered, your nails digging into his shoulders.

"I need you," Aurélien growled, his voice rough with desire. Your response was to squeeze your legs tighter around him, trying to get closer. He reached between your bodies, fumbling with his belt before tearing open a condom with his teeth.

As he kicked off his pants, you wriggled out of your underwear, leaving you bare before him. Aurelien paused, taking in your form - the swell of your breasts, the flare of your hips, the softness of your thighs.

“Si beau" he murmured. He slowly lowered you down onto him - easily sliding into you due to how you’ve secretly wanted him badly all night- his hands splayed possessively on your hips. He kissed you softly, his thumb stroking your cheek as he guided himself inside you.

You inhaled sharply as he filled you, your back arching to take him deeper. He wrapped your legs around his waist, his large hands supporting your ass as he began to move. The chair creaked under your movements, the room filled with your heavy breaths and soft moans.

Aurelien's strong arms lifted you up and down on him, his hands roaming over your curves possessively. He broke the kiss to look down at where you joined, his eyes darkening as he watched himself enter you.

"Tellement parfait" he growled, his voice strained with desire. He pulled out almost completely before slamming back into you , the force of his hips making you bounce on his lap. Your nails dug into his shoulders as you clung to him, your head thrown back in ecstasy.

"Look at me chérie” he commanded, his voice deep and demanding. You opened your eyes, meeting his intense gaze. He slowed his pace, moving deliberately now, making each thrust count. His thumb found your clit, circling it gently in rhythm with his hips.

Your eyes rolled back as pleasure overwhelmed you. "Aurélien" you whimpered, your voice barely audible. He smiled, his heart swelling with love and desire. He picked up the pace again, his thumb pressing harder against your sensitive clit as he fucked you mercilessly on the lounge chair.

He wrapped his arms around you , pulling you flush against his chest. "Wrap your legs around me," he ordered, his voice strained. You locked your ankles at his back, allowing him to go even deeper. He grunted, his face a mask of concentration.

Aurélien stood up, still buried inside you, and carried you to the bed. He sat down, keeping your legs wrapped around his waist, and leaned back against the headboard. Your back arched as he sank deeper into you, the change in position hitting your g-spot perfectly.

"You like that?" Aurelien asked, smirking as you whimpered and clung to him. He wrapped his arms around your thighs, opening you up even wider as he pounded into you. The bed creaked loudly, keeping rhythm with your bodies slapping together.

Your nails dug into Aurelien's shoulders once again as you tried to pull him closer, needing more of him inside you. He hissed at the sharp pain, but it only seemed to fuel his desire.

"More?" he growled, thrusting harder. You nodded, unable to form words as pleasure coursed through you. He reached between the two of you, finding your sensitive clit and rubbing in time with his thrusts.

"Tell me you want it," he whispered harshly against your ear, his breath hot and ragged. "Tell me you want me to make you cum all over my dick." His fingers continued their maddening dance on your clit, pushing you closer to the edge.

"I want it," you choked out, your voice desperate. "I want you to make me cum so bad." Aurelien grinned, his eyes dark with lust. "That's what I like to hear" he said, his thrusts becoming even more brutal as he drove into your gushing pussy.

"Your pussy feels so good around me," he groaned, adjusting his angle to hit just the right spot, triggering waves of pleasure through you. You could feel your orgasm building, intense and inevitable. "Not yet," he commanded, slowing his pace slightly despite her desperate whimpers.

"I'm going to count to three," he said, his voice low and commanding. "And when I reach three, I want you to cum for me. Hard." He started moving again, his thrusts long and deep, each one pushing you closer to the edge. "One,"

... "Two..." His pace picked up, becoming more urgent as he felt your muscles clutching him tighter. "Three..." A surge of pleasure rushed through you as he hit that perfect spot, and with his command, you shattered completely, your body convulsing around him in a powerful orgasm.

grunts "That's it... cum all over this dick" he growled, his own pleasure building as he felt you pulsating around him. "Don't stop... ride through it" he commanded, continuing his punishing rhythm.

As you rode through your release, he wrapped his hand around your neck. "Look at me," he ordered, his voice rough with barely contained passion. He wanted to see your face as he continued to thrust into you, prolonging your pleasure.

Your eyes locked, he picked up his pace, slamming into you as he gazed into your dilated pupils. "You're going to cum again, and again, and again..." He punctuated each word with a hard thrust, his hands gripping your hips possessively.

Needless to say, it was a long night. Time seemed to blur as you came together, your movements tender yet passionate. Your touch was a mixture of strength and care, his attention to your every reaction making you feel seen in a way you never had before. When you both finally lay tangled in the sheets, your breaths mingling in the quiet, you traced lazy circles on his chest.

"I wasn't expecting this," you admitted, your voice soft.

"Neither was I," he replied, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "But I'm glad it happened."

You smiled, closing your eyes as you rested against him. For the first time in a long time, you felt at peace-wrapped in the warmth of something that felt like it could be real.

“Goodnight, Y/n” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your temple before closing his eyes.

“Goodnight, Aurélien” you whispered, slowly drifting off to sleep.

[snowseasonmademe]

Reminder

warning ‼️: smut !

word count: 4,258

paring: toxic situationship noni x black female reader

summary: as much as you tried to walk away from him, he always, always, pulled you back

note: a special request from my special @irishmanwhore . she requested this late at night a couple days ago, and i’m not the biggest lover of noni (for obvious reason🦷) buuuuttttt i had to cook up something for her. all i’m gonna say is, grab your plate because yall are about to eat gooooodddddd. as always, enjoy and tell me what you think !!!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

London nights always felt heavier when you were alone. The streets, the clubs, even your own damn bed—nothing felt right anymore. Not since him.

But that was the problem, wasn’t it?

It had been months since you walked away. Months since you finally accepted that Noni would never call you his girlfriend, never give you the security you craved, never love you the way you needed him to.

You spent too many nights crying over him, replaying the same arguments, the same lies. I’m not cheating. I don’t even find them attractive like that. But who just casually has Rubi Rose’s number? Who texts other girls at 2 AM, only to turn his phone face down when you’re in the room?

You wanted to believe him. Every time he kissed your forehead, wrapped his arms around you, whispered, It’s not like that, you’re moving mad, you let yourself fall for it again. And every time, you regretted it.

Because the truth was, he never wanted you for anything more than convenience—sex, company, someone to show off when it suited him. He’d buy you gifts, take you on expensive dates, post half a picture of you on his story just to keep you quiet for a while. And for a moment, you’d let yourself believe it was real. That you were special. That you weren’t just another girl in rotation.

But then the cycle would repeat.

He’d disappear for hours—sometimes days—only to pop back up like nothing happened. You’d argue. He’d dodge every question, spin everything back on you, make you feel like you were crazy for even asking. Why do you always do this? You swear I’m some wasteman when I’ve done nothing wrong. And then, like clockwork, he’d find his way back into your bed. Because no matter how mad you were, how hurt you felt, one look from him, one touch, and your body betrayed you.

Everyone knew what it was. You weren’t his girlfriend, but you weren’t just some random. You were something in between, stuck in limbo, and no matter how much you wanted to walk away, you never could.

Until you did.

Yet every step you took away from him felt like you were being pulled back in.

And still, even now, even with Jessie waiting for you, you weren’t sure if you’d ever really left.

But you really like Jessie.

Jessie, with his safe hands and soft voice. Jessie, who planned dates and sent good morning texts and actually responded to messages on time. Jessie, who respected you. Jessie, who wasn’t him.

You liked Jessie. You really did. He was sweet, patient, the kind of guy who held doors open and kissed your forehead just because. He listened when you talked, remembered little details about your day, always made sure you finished first in bed.

But he didn’t make your heart race. He didn’t make your blood boil. He didn’t push you to the brink of madness, teetering between love and chaos the way Noni did.

Jessie didn’t know how to handle you when you had an attitude—he didn’t hit you with something slick and lowkey mean just to shut you up, to remind you exactly who you were dealing with. He didn’t grab your face with that rough grip, fingers digging into your skin, forcing you to look him in the eyes while he fucked the air from your lungs.

He didn’t choke you like you liked—like you needed. Didn’t know how to shut you up with one hand around your throat, making you gasp for breath just to prove a point. He didn’t slap your ass hard when you tried to ease how deep he was going, didn’t hold you down and make you take every inch.

Jessie was careful. Considerate. Gentle.

And it wasn’t enough.

And worst of all? He was a Chelsea fan.

You swore the universe was laughing at you. The first time you saw Jessie post a matchday photo in his blue jersey, you almost blocked him on sight. It felt like you were being haunted, constantly reminded of the man you were trying so damn hard to forget.

Jessie didn’t follow Rubi Rose. Jessie didn’t have to convince you he wasn’t cheating. Jessie didn’t gaslight the hell out of you and then send a designer bag as an apology.

Jessie was perfect.

And you were fucking miserable.

Tonight, you were supposed to go see him. He had been texting you all day, excited about some new restaurant he wanted to take you to.

But when you stepped outside, your heart stopped.

Noni was standing at the bottom of your steps.

His hands were tucked into the pockets of his hoodie, head tilted slightly, eyes watching you with that infuriating mix of amusement and ownership. Like he had always known you’d come back. Like he knew you never really left.

“You going somewhere?” he asked, his voice smooth, calm.

You sucked your teeth. “I’m going to see my man” you shot back, adjusting your bag on your shoulder. “What the fuck are you doing here? Don’t you have some Instagram hoes to lie to about not being with me? Or did you get me another Birkin to try and apologize?”

A slow smirk tugged at his lips. “You know you don’t want to go over there” he said, voice low, confident. “You don’t even like him” he said waking up the steps, to stand directly in front of you.

Your jaw clenched. “Get the hell out of my way Noni”

You stepped forward, placing your hands on his chest to push him aside, but he didn’t move.

He took a step closer instead.

His body heat, his scent—familiar, intoxicating—wrapped around you, making your head spin. He leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear.

“Turn around” he murmured, then paused. “And open the door”

Your breath caught in your throat. You swallowed hard.

This was the moment you had been dreading. The moment you had always known would come.

You should’ve walked away. Should’ve pushed past him, called Jessie, pretended you didn’t still crave the toxicity, the chaos, the him of it all.

But instead, your fingers curled around your keys.

And you turned around.

The key slides into the lock with a quiet click, and just as you’re about to turn it, you sigh, feeling the warmth of his body almost pressed against your back.

“Do you have to be that fucking close?” you murmur, eyes rolling as you focus on getting the damn door open.

Instead of stepping back, Noni moves even closer, his chest now fully against you, heat radiating through his hoodie. His voice is low, teasing. “Just open the door man”

Your breath hitches for a second, but you do as he says, pushing it open and stepping inside. You don’t even have to tell him to follow—he does anyway, closing the door behind him and locking it with a soft click.

You walk into the living room, placing your purse and keys down on the table, slipping off your coat. The silence in the room is thick, charged. When you turn around, he’s just standing there a few feet away, eyes locked on you like he’s taking in every inch, every detail he’s missed.

“Are you just gonna stand there, or are you gonna tell me what the hell you’re doing here?” you ask, folding your arms.

Noni exhales through his nose, shaking his head slightly as he walks toward the open kitchen, still keeping direct eye contact with you.

“I know you miss me babes” he says smoothly, leaning against the counter like he owns the place. “And don’t try to lie—I know what my girl looks like when she misses me”

You scoff, stepping into the kitchen, resting your hip against the counter as you tilt your head. “Oh, I’m your girl now?” you ask, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Why couldn’t you call me that to your friends? Or your fucking parents?”

His jaw flexes for a moment before he sighs. “Come on man, don’t do this right now” he mutters, shaking his head as he steps closer.

One hand comes up to your chin, tilting it up so you have no choice but to look at him. His other hand finds your hip, fingers pressing into your skin as he turns you toward him, your body now flush against his.

“I missed you too” he murmurs, a slight smirk on his lips as he leans in, trying to kiss you.

You turn your head away, heart pounding in your chest. “Noni what are you on bro?” you say, voice sharp even as your body betrays you, leaning into his warmth. “My man is waiting for me you know”

Noni chuckles, the sound low and smug. “Your man” he repeats, like the words are a joke. His hand tightens on your hip. “Your man is a fan of mine. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind if I treat his girl how she really wants to be treated” He tilts his head slightly. “I’m doing him a favor”

His audacity almost makes you mad again—until his lips find your jaw.

He starts slow. Kissing down to that sensitive spot below your ear, then lower, down your neck, before coming back up again.

Your breath hitches, a soft moan slipping out before you can stop it. His lips graze your ear, and then he whispers, voice thick with certainty, “You can’t find another me out there. Just come home.”

Your lips part, ready to say something—anything—but then your phone buzzes on the counter, just inches away.

The name Jessie Bear❤️‍🩹🐻 lights up the screen.

Noni doesn’t move, doesn’t pull away. If anything, his grip tightens, his fingers pressing into your hips, keeping you locked in place.

“Go on, answer your man” he murmurs in a mocking tone, lips still grazing your skin.

You swallow, fingers shaking slightly as you pick up the phone. “Hey baby” you say, but your voice comes out unsteady, breathy.

“You almost here baby?” Jessie asks sweetly. “I know you’re late sometimes, just checking to see if you’re all good”

Before you can even process a response, Noni’s hands are moving—trailing up your waist, caressing your sides, his lips pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses along your neck. His teeth graze your earlobe, and you feel a shiver roll down your spine.

Your breath catches. “Y-yeah, baby, um, I—”

Jessie’s voice softens with concern. “Are you okay darling? Do you need me to come over?”

Noni smirks against your skin.

You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to focus, trying to breathe. “N-no, baby, I’m just feeling a bit…sick” you lie, your voice weak. “Is it okay if we reschedule?”

“Yeah, that’s no problem babe” Jessie says, his voice filled with nothing but concern. “I’ll come by later with some medicine and food for you”

You barely hear him. The only thing you can focus on is Noni—his teeth, his hands, the way he’s completely unraveling you without even trying.

“Okay, thanks baby” you mumble, desperate to end the call. “Bye, I—I’ll see you later”

You hang up as fast as you can, barely able to process the guilt that should be hitting you right now.

But Noni doesn’t give you time to think.

His lips trail up to your jaw again, his grip on your hips tightening as he leans into your ear.

You shove him hard, smacking his chest with both hands. “What the fuck Noni?” you snap, heart still racing from what just happened. “Are you trying to get me caught up?”

He barely flinches, just catches your wrists with ease, his grip firm as he presses your hands against his chest, holding them there. His body is warm beneath your palms, his heartbeat steady—like he knew this was going to happen. Like he planned this.

“You got yourself caught up” he says smoothly, voice teasing, “when you unlocked the door like I told you to”

Your jaw clenches, anger bubbling to the surface as you remember everything—all the back and forth, the games, the manipulation, the way he kept you dangling on a string while acting like he was doing you a favor. “You don’t deserve to have me” Your voice is sharp, your chest rising and falling with frustration. “He does”

Noni just smirks, unbothered. “But I’m gonna have you” he says, his voice thick with certainty. “I’m the one you want, not him. You know that. And I’ve always known that”

You start to protest, but then he guides one of your hands downward—down to where his body is burning hot beneath his sweatpants, to the evidence of just how much he’s missed you. The moment your fingers graze the hard outline of him, your breath stutters, and his grip on your wrist tightens.

“You will always come back to me” he murmurs, like it’s a fact, like it’s inevitable.

His hands slide under your shirt, fingers trailing across your bare skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake. He moves to your back, then lower, down to your ass, squeezing firmly, possessively. The way he touches you, the way he knows your body—it has you biting your lip, fighting back a moan. But when his fingers dig into you just right, the sound slips out anyway, and your head tilts up instinctively, lips parting, searching for his.

He leans in, his lips brushing yours but not quite kissing you yet. He just stays there, breathing you in, his face so close you can feel the warmth of him, the tension stretching between you like a thin, fragile thread.

Then finally—finally—he crashes his lips onto yours, hard, almost bruising. He bites your lip, hands gripping you rough and firm, like he’s making up for all the time lost.

“You miss me?” he asks against your lips, his voice almost harsh, daring you to deny it.

Your hands are already at the hem of his hoodie, pushing it up, desperate to feel more. “Yes” you whisper breathlessly. “Yes I missed you”. You both continue to feverishly kiss and undress each other, gripping and kissing at any skin you could get your hands and lips on, until you’re both left in your underwear.

Without warning, he pulls away, spins you around, and bends you over the countertop with a force that knocks the air from your lungs.

“You feel how much I missed you, hmm?” His voice is low, gravelly, as he presses and grinds against you, his clothed hardness teasing against your covered, aching core. His hands roam your body, gripping, kneading, claiming.

Your hips move on instinct, grinding back against him, desperate for friction. He lifts he palm and lets down a sharp smack to you right ass cheek.

You gasp as his palm comes down hard on your ass, the sharp sting sending heat rushing through you. “Did I tell you to move?” Another smack follows, making you whimper. “I asked you a question”

“No” you whisper, voice small.

Another sharp slap lands, making your breath hitch. The sting lingers, mixing with the growing heat between your legs.

“I can’t hear you. Where’s all that attitude now?” His voice is amused, darkly satisfied with your sudden silence. “Did I tell you to move?”

This time, you answer with your chest. “No”

Your fingers clutch at the cool countertop, your body burning, your mind clouded with need. “Just fuck me already Noni… please”

His hands tighten on your hips, and you can hear the smirk in his voice as he leans over you, his breath hot against your ear. “Ahh there she is. My girl” he says with a satisfied toned.

Noni pulls out his rock-hard dick, one hand still gripping your hips to keep you in place. With his other, he slides your panties to the side and drags his sticky tip along your soaked folds, teasing you.

“Huh, looks like she misses me too” he chuckles.

You want to turn around and smack him—how can he joke at a time like this? When you’re dripping, aching, needing him inside you? The teasing is unbearable, every slow drag of his pulsing tip along your folds making your body twitch with anticipation.

Enough. You can’t take it anymore.

With a desperate whimper, you push yourself back onto him, forcing his dick past your entrance. The thick stretch steals the air from your lungs, your walls struggling to accommodate his size as you sink onto him. Nearly half of his length fills you in one motion, and the burn is delicious, sharp and perfect all at once.

Noni lets out a deep groan, voice strained. His dick twitches inside you, stretching you open, throbbing against your tight, fluttering walls. His fingers digging into your hips, like he’s holding himself back from slamming into you fully.

But you don’t care about his teasing anymore.

You just want him to fuck you.

“Ahh, fuuuck, Noni” you whimper, gripping the countertop as pleasure shoots through you.

He doesn’t ease into it. The moment he’s inside you, he sets a brutal pace, each thrust deep, stretching you open without mercy. The sheer size of him has you gasping, your body struggling to accommodate the thick length that fills you to the brim. The sting of the stretch quickly melts into pleasure, your walls clenching around him, desperate to hold him in place even as he drives into you relentlessly.

His hand trails up your spine, his fingers dragging over the dip of your back before settling at the base of your neck. Then, in one swift motion, he wraps his hand around your throat, squeezing just enough to make your head swim. The lack of air only amplifies the sensation, making your moans come out in choked, desperate whimpers.

Your bare chest is flush against the cold countertop, the contrast of heat and chill making your nipples pebble as you claw at the surface for stability. The force of his thrusts pushes you forward, your body jolting with every deep stroke. Each wet slap of skin against skin echoes through the room, the sound mixing with his ragged breaths and your breathless moans.

He groans, his grip on your throat tightening just slightly before he releases it, letting you gasp for air only to slam into you even harder.

“Does Jessie fuck you like this?” Noni grits out, his breath hot against your skin. “Does he fuck you this good?”

“No—fuck—no, Jessie doesn’t fuck me like you do” you cry out.

Unfortunately for you, your phone is still sitting on the counter, screen glowing faintly as it rests just inches from your trembling fingers. In the heat of the moment, you don’t notice when Siri, always too damn nosy, registers Jessie’s name and dials him without hesitation.

You remain completely oblivious, too lost in the symphony of sin filling the room—the obscene wet sounds of Noni’s thick length plunging into you, the sharp slaps of skin meeting skin, the way your moans mix with his deep grunts. It’s intoxicating, overwhelming, consuming. Your mind is drowning in pleasure, body pliant under his ruthless pace, your focus narrowing to nothing but the way he fills you, ruins you.

But then—a voice.

Soft at first, barely registering through the haze of lust. Then clearer, more distinct, like a sudden splash of ice water against burning skin.

“Hey baby, I was just about to be on my way over. Did you want the NyQuil tea or the liquid medicine? Because I got bo—”

Jessie.

Your stomach drops. The world tilts.

He stops mid-sentence. Silence hangs heavy, suffocating. And then you realize—he hears everything.

There’s silence on the line, but you know he hears everything. The way Noni is fucking you. The way you’re moaning. The wet, filthy sounds of your bodies colliding.

“Y/N… baby, what are you doing?” Jessie’s voice breaks.

You hear him start to cry. And still, you don’t care. Noni is fucking you too good for you to care.

He fucks you even harder, making sure you feel every inch of him. He lands three sharp smacks on your ass, his voice dark and taunting.

“This is how you like it right? Not that soft shit your man does?”

“Yes—fuck—you fuck me so good Noni. So fucking good” you whimper.

Jessie is still on the phone, his voice barely holding together.

“Y/N, why are you doing this to me? What the fuck man…”

Sniffling. A few more seconds of silence. Then— click.

Jessie hangs up.

Noni chuckles, gripping your waist tighter as he thrusts even deeper.

“Now we don’t have to worry about him interrupting us later.”

All you can do is lay there, moaning helplessly as Noni fucks you deep and hard. Every stroke leaves you breathless, your body arching into the overwhelming pleasure. Then, suddenly, he slows, dragging his thick length almost all the way out before slamming back in, making you gasp. His hands move to your lower back, thumbs pressing into the deep dimples there as he leans over you.

His voice is low, and calcualted, making sure you catch every single word.

“I’m gonna fuck you so hard, yeah? You won’t ever think about fucking another man again”

And then he does.

He picks up his pace, his strokes turning punishing—hard, fast, relentless. Each thrust forces you up onto your tiptoes, your body jolting with the sheer force of it. The sharp bite of pain from your hips being slammed into the unforgiving countertop sends a dull ache through your bones, but it only heightens the pleasure twisting in your core.

And fuck, the way his thick length drags along your walls, hitting deep, grazing that perfect spot inside you—it has your head spinning. But it’s the way his tip kisses your cervix, over and over again, that has you gasping, your legs trembling beneath you.

It’s too much. It’s not enough.

Your body is caught in a beautiful contradiction—blazing heat and sharp sting, unbearable stretch and overwhelming pleasure, everything crashing down on you at once. Your nails dig into the countertop, searching for something, anything to anchor yourself as Noni fucks you deeper, harder, making sure you feel every inch of him.

“Ahh yes” he groans, his fingers pressing bruises into your hips. He’s relentless, chasing his own pleasure, determined to pull you apart in the process.

The sound of skin slapping against skin echoes through the room, mixing with the lewd, wet noises of him plunging into your dripping core. Your moans are shameless, high-pitched and broken, filling the air as pleasure coils tighter and tighter inside you, threatening to snap.

“Noni—please—keep going” you moan, your voice shaking. “You’re gonna make me cum right now”

“Keep going just like this?” he taunts, rolling his hips a little extra, making sure you feel every inch of him.

“Yess—yesss, just like that!” you cry out, gripping the edge of the counter so hard your knuckles turn white.

For a split second, guilt seeps into your mind. Jessie. His broken voice. His pain. You know damn well you would’ve committed several crimes if the roles were reversed—if you had caught him, or worse, Noni, on the phone fucking someone else like this.

But the guilt doesn’t stand a chance.

It’s ripped away, shattered beneath the crashing waves of your orgasm.

“Oh my god—fuck—ahhh!” you cry out, your whole body trembling as pleasure tears through you, leaving you breathless, weak, undone.

Noni groans, his grip tightening on your hips. He wants to keep fucking you through it, wants to keep slamming you into the counter, but the way your pussy clenches around him—wet, tight, fucking perfect—it pushes him over the edge.

“Fuck—” His hips stutter, a deep, loud moan leaving his lips as he releases inside you, hot ropes of cum filling you up, dripping down your thighs and onto the floor. His thrusts slow, but he stays buried inside for a moment, letting you both catch your breath.

Your legs are beyond weak, your heart hammering so fast you feel like you’ve just finished an intense Pilates class. When he finally pulls out, he smacks your ass one last time, making you jolt. Then, before you can even think about standing, he turns you around and crashes his lips against yours.

The kiss is rough, desperate, his hands gripping your waist to keep you upright. Then, effortlessly, he lifts you onto the countertop, his body still pressed against yours.

You rest your head on his shoulder, trying to steady your breathing, trying to figure out how the hell you’re supposed to clean this up—his cum dripping down your thighs, pooling on the floor. And worse, the emotional mess you just left in Jessie’s heart.

But Noni’s deep, raspy voice pulls you right back in.

“Let me know when you catch your breath darling” he murmurs, his tone dripping with confidence. “I need to make up for what your boy wasn’t doing while you were acting like you didn’t miss me”

You groan, shaking your head.

“I did miss you” you admit, voice still shaky. “But fuck Noni, did you have to fuck with him like that?”

He smirks, completely unbothered. “I’ve done nothing wrong. You’re the one who cheated on your little boyfriend”

He tilts your chin up, forcing you to meet his gaze.

“Now, can we stop talking about him? We have some business to take care of.”

And with that, he picks you up effortlessly, carrying you to your bed.

By the time the sun rose, Jessie was nothing but a forgotten thought.

[snowseasonmademe]

That’s Why I love you

“I never wondered what this could be, I just fuck your and leave”

“You never wanted nothing from me, I just fuck you and leave. There ain’t really nothing to see. That’s why I love you”

summary

At first it was just sex, casual fun. But you find yourself needing more from him and you wonder if he feels the same.

warnings ❗️ : fluff at the beginning, smut at the end

word count: 1,927

paring: situationship!aurélien x black!fem reader

note: hi everyone! really enjoyed writing this. i need to see more fluffy soft aurelien so i wrote this for us. As i always say constructive criticism is always welcome and of course, enjoy!

There you were, preparing to meet the guy who should be your boyfriend by now—Aurélien. It had been about three months of this playful back-and-forth, a game of who would confess their feelings first, and let’s be honest, you were starting to feel like you were losing. You fell for him first, but he fell harder. Initially, the arrangement was just about physical intimacy, no strings attached, but as you spent more time together, that became nearly impossible to maintain. After two and a half weeks of romantic dates, him showering you with attention, and some incredible sex, you realized you genuinely liked him, even though you hadn’t truly gotten to know him yet. That all changed one weekend when you talked for hours about his childhood, his family, his dreams, and his values. Everything clicked, and you felt an overwhelming urge to declare your feelings, but you hesitated, unsure if he felt the same way.

You were wrong. He did share your feelings. In truth, he found it impossible to resist you. Initially, he adhered to their arrangement, reaching out only when desire struck. However, there was something about you that stirred warm emotions within him, making him realize he wanted you in his life more often than not. Your smile lit up the darkest corners of his heart, and he could pick your voice out from a sea of a million others. The way you nurtured his feelings when he talked about any problems he was going through. The gentle, serene look you wore right after waking up was truly angelic. The way you would always text him : have fun, and good luck💋- before each match to remind him to stay positive even through hard times with team. The sensation of your smaller, softer hand in his sparked dreams of one day placing a ring on it. He would choose you over his first love without hesitation. Yet, he struggled with the idea of truly loving you beyond the physical connection. That was until you stopped responding to his texts and calls last week, unable to bear the feeling that your feelings weren’t mutual. For those seven days, he was consumed with thoughts of losing you. Lying in bed, cold and lonely, he felt an ache in his heart that was all-consuming, and the weight of his feelings hit him hard. He loved you, but he feared he had ruined his chance. In a moment of desperation, he did the only thing he could think of: he grabbed his phone and ordered flowers to be delivered to your house, accompanied by a note that read:

I miss you and I want to talk. Be ready by 5. I’ll see you then, cherie.

Yours truly, Aurélien.

You stand in front of your mirror, smoothing down the fabric of the mini dress he gifted you two months ago in France. The only apology I want from him is a “Will you be my girlfriend?” and a Dior bag, you think as you spritz a touch of your favorite vanilla perfume on your ankles—just in case—before slipping into your heels and grabbing your luxurious chocolate brown fur coat. Just as you’re about to slide your arm into the warm sleeve, your phone buzzes gently on the side table. A wave of anxiety washes over you as you realize you have to see him in less than five minutes. Butterflies flutter in your stomach as you pick up the phone and hit answer. “Hi y/n,” he greets you with his deep voice and charming French accent. You take a moment to gather your thoughts, trying to ease the dryness in your mouth, then reply, “Hey Aurélien… thanks for the flowers. I didn’t think you’d remember I liked those,” you say, managing a calm tone with a slightly awkward yet affectionate laugh at the end. “How could I forget a flower I’ve never heard of? Chocolate cosmos, right?” he chuckles. “Still a smart ass huh? I was worried you’d lost your sense of humor during our little break. It was the only thing that kept me attracted to you,” you reply confidently. “The only thing? If I recall correctly, you’re the reason we had to leave Le Cinq early because you ‘needed me right now,’ right?” he retorts with a teasing smirk. “I couldn’t help it; you were teasing me all day,” you laugh, recalling your desperation. “I’m outside waiting for you,” he says, his tone turning serious. “How do you know I’m even ready? I could be lounging in bed right now for all you know,” you tease back. “You wouldn’t have answered if you weren’t. Now hurry up; it’s freezing out here,” he replies before hanging up. You take one last glance in the mirror, adding a touch more lip gloss to make your lips irresistibly kissable. After bidding farewell to your cats, you step out into the cold, foggy night.

As you descend the stairs of your brownstone, you spot him leaning against his car, hands tucked into his pockets, a gentle smile playing on his lips. Approaching him, he pulls you in for a warm embrace, holding you tightly. “You look absolutely stunning, bébé. I’ve missed you,” he murmurs, planting a soft kiss on the crown of your head. You feel the same longing; you’ve missed the comfort of his arms, the rhythm of his heartbeat when you rest your head against his chest, the soothing timbre of his voice, and that intoxicating scent of his. “Can I get in the car now? It’s freezing out here,” you say, your voice muffled as you nestle into his neck. “Not before a kiss,” he replies, gently tilting your chin to meet his gaze. You turn your head slightly to the left and say, “Here’s your kiss. I’m still mad at you, so take it or leave it.” “You won’t be upset for long. Just trust me,” he assures you with a light peck on your cheek. With that, he opens the car door and takes your hand, helping you inside.

The two of you enjoyed a car ride filled with light-hearted chatter, reminiscing about your week apart. The conversation flowed easily, avoiding any heavy topics to keep the mood relaxed as you made your way to your destination. His warm, large hand occasionally squeezed your thigh, a gentle reminder of his presence. Meanwhile, your mind raced with thoughts about how to express your true feelings. Surely, he must feel something for me, you thought as he pulled up in front of the valet.

Dinner seemed to pass in a blur as you chatted, laughed, and joked, as if nothing had ever happened. Your mind wandered back to the conversation you knew was inevitable, and the anticipation grew too strong to ignore. You decided to take a leap. “You know, this could be real life. Just the two of us, it would be the same thing but no rules this time,” you said, deliberately avoiding his gaze to ease the tension. Suddenly, the atmosphere shifted, thickening as he gently took your hands, holding them while locking eyes with you. “Y/n,” he said softly. “Hmm,” you replied, taking a sip of your champagne. “I know it’s my fault we didn’t talk last week. I’m really glad you’re here because I need to tell you… that… I really like you—no, I love you, and it drives me crazy that you’re not mine,” he confessed, his voice sweet yet shaky. You could see his heart racing beneath his fitted black shirt. “W-wait, you love me?” you stammered. “Yes, Y/n, I do. At first, I thought it was just because you kept things simple. I could just fuck you and leave. You never wanted anything else from me or made me feel guilty for wanting just sex. But every time I left, I wished you could come with me, to share my bed and wake up beside me.” You gasped, struggling to find words in response, still reeling from his confession. “And then, when you started staying over, coming to my matches, or traveling with me to France, I fell for you, Y/n. I love everything about you. I’m truly in love with you,” he continued, swallowing hard while maintaining intense eye contact. “I love you too, Aurelien.” You let out a soft sigh, feeling a wave of relief wash over you. “I want you to be my girlfriend. Will you be my girlfriend?” “Fuck, you finally said it! I was starting to think I’d have to look for someone else,” you laugh, your eyes glistening with tears. “So, is that a yes?” he asks with a playful tone. “Yes,” you reply, chuckling softly so as not to disturb the other diners around you.

——-

"Mon Dieu, I missed you so much," he says in your ear, as his dick leaves long, hard stokes inside your dripping wet pussy. With one of your legs on his shoulder, he firmly grips your hips to keep you in place while fucking you fiercely. "Feels so good, baby," you murmur, one hand clutching at his arm and the other dragging him into a blazing wet kiss. He continues to kiss you from your jaw to your neck, sucking and biting lightly, leaving you breathless. He carefully lowers your leg to his waist, and you tighten your legs, trapping him between them. He begins to grind faster, making your pussy clench hard around him. He groans in your ear, leaving you more soaked than before. The sounds emanating from your bother were borderline shocking. It was clear that you couldn't bear being apart from each other, as you both grabbed and caressed anything you could get your hands on. "I will never let you go. You're mine now," he almost whispers into your ear. "Fuck, I love you so much, Aurelien," you say whispering a curse at first. He slides his hand down between the two of you, applying pressure on your clit before carefully circling it. "Say my name again, bébé," he says desperately. The sound of your voice turned him on more than you'll ever understand. “Please keep going, Aurélien you're gonna make me cum." You murmur, slowly raising your volume. He pumped faster and harder, his thumb rubbing your clit. And with that, you came undone, spreading your juices all over his length and forcing his climax. He kept fucking you until he felt certain he had poured every last drop inside of you. He collapsed on top of you, kissing your forehead before removing a few wandering braids from your face and gently pulling you out. He pulls you onto his sweaty, simmering chest and gently strokes your back. “We should spend more time apart if we can have sex like that," you say, out of breath. "We can have sex like that all the time cherie, if thats what you want" . You whine as you feel him get up to grab a towel and clean you up. He then takes one of his shirts from his drawer and slips it into you, clothing himself in his Calvin Klein boxers and coming back into bed behind. He wraps his arms around your waist and whispers to you, "Good night, I can't wait to see you in the morning" "Good night, baby. I love you," you respond, barely conscious. "I love you, too," he replies. The last thing you felt was your boyfriend kissing the back of your neck, sending you into a deep sleep.

and that’s the end. i hope you all liked it. i feel like im slowly getting better at writing but tell me what yall thinks! anyway, love yall🤍

[snowseasonmademe]

hi everyone! im michaelah, i’m 20, i’m black, im a capricorn ♑️, and i’m american🇺🇸. let’s talk about music, fine men, astrology, girly topics, therapy sessions or anything you want to say or ask, this is a safe space. i have my masterlist of fics ive written, music i listen to and an important message about mental health. i hope you have fun here ;)

Mental Health Message

Masterlist

I’m down to chat if anyone has questions or anything you wanna talk about

xx🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾

[snowseasonmademe]

Am I enough for You?

summary

you sometimes feel insecure about how beautiful you really are to your husband and if you really are enough for as a wife.

warning ‼️ : angst? little but of smut at the end

word count : 1,531

pairing : husband aurélien x wife black reader (understands french) (reader is dark skin, skinny 22 years old and 5’7)

LONG NOTE AHEAD

note: this is my second fic ever and i’m slowly but surely improving :) this character is based on me. at 19 i don’t have any romantic experience and in the past i felt unloved and unwanted because of certain beauty standards within the black community along with the rest of society. i was also bullied a lot in elementary and middle school for looking how i do. over time i have learned to truly love me for me and it has been a long but fruitful journey. i just want to say to any black girls who don’t feel beautiful right now, it’s easier said than done but don’t look to other to make you feel beautiful. the love is within you. your golden brown skin lights up every single room. you have so much life and culture in your blood. you don’t have to change to “fit in” for anyone. you’re completely perfect the way that you look. you don’t have to be skinnier or thinker or have longer or looser hair. allow yourself to just be you. unapologetically. and lastly go where you’re loved. don’t give love and energy to people who don’t give it back to you. protect your heart and you peace.💗

and for any girls who don’t want kids and feel the pressure of everyone around them, being a mother doesn’t make you more valuable or a better person. don’t let anyone (especially a man) ever try to convince to bring children in this world that you know you don’t want. having kids isn’t a bad thing but it’s not for everyone and that’s okay. it’s your body and you know what you want to do with it. don’t feel guilty about it. 🤍

with ALL that being said enjoy and please tell me what yall think :)

———————————————————————

You love your husband. He's perfect in your eyes. To you, he is your saving grace, your angel. You get emotional thinking about him since he has just been so good to you. You really couldn't ask for someone better. When you first discussed marriage with him, you were concerned that he would not want to stay with you because you had chosen at an early age that you did not want children. When you discussed it with him, he said, "Kids or no kids, I want you to be my wife. In every life time." That's how you knew you'd never let him leave.

And he loves you. A lot more than you imagined. He understands you in ways that even you don't. He adores you and essentially worships the ground you walk on. He loves you softly and affectionately, but he also shows the passion that burns in his heart for you. Of course, he told and showed you in every manner possible, but there was always a voice in the back of your head telling you he wasn't as attracted to you as he said.

At 22, you were a late bloomer, and he was your first everything. First relationship, first dates, first sexual encounters, first time feeling truly liked and loved. You couldn't help but compare yourself to his ex's, who looked nothing like you. They were just the reverse, actually. Curvy, light brown skin, loose curly hair, and slightly shorter. You, with your slim long legs, darker chocolate skin, and 4c coils that were usually done in knotless braids, as well as your 5'7 height, felt attractive but not enough for him. You loved yourself and thought you were gorgeous, but owing to previous experiences and the world's overall beauty standards, you suspected he had settled.

You frequently went back and forth in your thoughts, arguing whether you were crazy for thinking this or not.

"Well, he wouldn't be with me unless he thought I was attractive. I don't know, maybe-." Your thoughts were distracted by his calming French accent. "Baby? Are you listening?" he asks, gently tapping your back with your pillow as you lie in bed, listening to his heartbeat. You answer "mhmm yeah I am" in a weak hushed tone, attempting to conceal your emotions. He stopped talking about……..whatever he was talking about. "You know I don't like it when you lie to me. I can't see your face, but I can tell something is hurting you. What is wrong, ma belle?" He continues in a worried but calm, not wanting to scare you away from my own feelings, as you have previously struggled to convey your deeper feelings.

You sat on your knees beside him, holding his hand, and looking him in the eyes. "I have something to ask you, and I don't want you to think I'm crazy or anything," you say straight-faced and serious. "Ask me anything. Go ahead” he speaks quietly, kissing your knuckles. Before you could say anything, the expression in his eyes told you that you were insane for thinking what you did. His pupils completely dilate every time he looks at you. You can see his heart beat harder every time he hears your voice. He loved you, and he was completely enamored, head over heels for you. With all this in mind, you eventually found the guts to ask, "Do you really love me?" You say, staring down at your hand in his "Y/n I thought this was something serious you scared me" he says chuckling, thinking this was one of those 'would you love me if I was a worm' questions, but you were dead serious.

"No. Aurelien I am not joking. Sometimes I think I'm not good enough for you. You have significantly more experience than me...I'm not sure why, but I don't think I'm the type of girl you prefer. They were all curvy and beautiful, and they didn't look like me. And how can I be the perfect wife if we don't have children? Part of being a good wife is being a good mother, right?" You cry as tears pour from your eyes, "Baby, Baby, it's okay, come here," he whispers, drawing you back onto his chest and lightly squeezing you. He caresses and kisses your head, saying, "Y/n. I thought we already talked about having kids. I want everything you want. I want whatever will make you happy. Being a wife is more than just being a mother. Being a wife means loving and supporting me through the good, bad, and ugly………It’s reminding me that no matter what happens, I always have a safe place to go. It’s changing and evolving with me for the better. We've only been married for a year, and you've done it tenfold. You've helped me grow as a person and man in ways I didn't realize I needed. Of course, I love you. I wouldn't be here if I didn't have you, mon coeur," he adds, raising your hand to his warm lips and kissing your wedding rings.

"Really? because I think this first year has been incredibly slow for us. I'm still trying to sort things out at work, and I feel horrible for not being able to go with you to your matches." You said between sobs. You decided you still wanted to work during your marriage. You didn't want your degree to go to waste after working so hard for it, and you were really passionate about your career. You enjoyed your job, but it took a lot of time away from your lover, so you attempted to make up for it by doing small things like always having his luggage packed two days before he goes or ensuring he has all of his meals prepared for the week, but you still felt bad.

"I couldn't be happier, Chérie. Of course, I miss you a lot while I'm away, but it only makes me more excited to see your beautiful face when I get home. You aren't always there but when you are, it makes things better. I appreciate it more when you are there because you don't get to come very frequently. And I would never pull you away from your work. I know you love it, and I love seeing you do what you love," and the two of you became silent for a minute.

"Look at me, y/n" you said, sitting up and straddling his lap, your hands on his chest. As you look at him with red, hurting eyes, he leans in, lifts his hand, softly wipes your tears with his thumb, and kisses your lips. "Do not compare yourself to the women I've been with before you. I chose you because you are different from them. You love me differently than them. I cannot get enough of you, y/n. Why do you think I make love with you the way I do?" He says, gripping your chin so you don't look away, his pupils completely expanded.

Now that you think about it thoroughly, without your emotions interfering, you know he loves you. You've always known it, and you felt dumb for allowing your insecurities keep you from seeing and accepting it fully. After all, he's done nothing but prove it to you day after day. How could you possibly doubt him?

Aurelien proved that he loved you in every way achievable. In all five love languages, plus those he somehow invented. He lives to please you and never disappoints. You love how he helps you get dressed for work on his days off or kisses the top of your head and says “You need to sleep now baby come to bed” when he comes home late and you’re still at your desk typing. However, he likes making love to you the most. He is extremely attentive and meticulous about every touch, squeeze, kiss, and stroke. He will give it to you any way you want it.

"I kiss, touch, and lick every single part of you because I love how you feel……..and how you smell" he kisses your mouth and proceeds down to your jaw. "And how you taste" he says firmly gripping your waist. "I love how long your legs look when I'm eating you, y/n," he murmurs in your left ear before softly biting it. Your breath caught in your throat as you attempted to whimper, but nothing came out. You think back to every time he was between your legs, eating you like there was no tomorrow. Your hands move to his shoulders, and you squeeze softly as you arch into him. He continues, “I love running my hands through your hair while I fuck you"

You moan quietly He started to go to the edge of the bed and hang his legs over the end, still holding you on his lap. "Look behind you" and turn your head around, only to be confronted with his warm stare and your own. "I'm going to fuck you in front of this mirror so you can see you how I see you" he says, turning your head back and kissing you passionately.

that’s the end for now. i still have trouble with writing for real people. im trying my best to match their personality but it’s not easy for me lol. anyway, let me know if yall want a part two. please like, comment and repost. love yall🤍

[snowseasonmademe]

Let love set you free

warning ‼️: angst, breakup

word count: 3,370

paring: levi colwill x black female reader

summary: you both tried to run and hide from it but the weight of time crushes your love into dust

tag list: @sucredreamer @irishmanwhore @whoevenisthiz @iamquiantrelle @dexastres @coffeevacation @goldenngt @btslover117 @kennasutopia @jessnotwiththemess

note: this song is one of my favorites of all time. i think it’s really beautiful and i thought levi would be perfect for the storyline so here it is! i know this is my second angst for him lol but he just fits. i’ll write something fun for him soon, i promise. actually i’ve written quite a few angst fics that will be posted soon, so be ready for that. anyway, as always enjoy and tell me what you think🤍🤍!!!!!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

There was a time when loving Levi felt like second nature, like breathing—something you didn’t have to think about, something that just was. The two of you fit together effortlessly, your souls woven into each other with a quiet certainty. It was in the way he’d wake up before you, pressing soft kisses to your shoulder before slipping out of bed, letting you sleep in while he made coffee. The way his voice would soften whenever he said your name, like it was sacred. The way his hand always found the small of your back in a crowded room, as if reassuring himself that you were still there, still his. It was easy back then, simple in a way that felt rare. Love had been an unspoken promise between you—constant, unwavering. But even the most beautiful things can fracture under the weight of time.

You both felt the shift before you ever spoke it into existence. It started with the little things, the ones that seemed insignificant on their own but built up like cracks in a foundation. The calls that went unanswered for longer than usual. The texts that felt more like obligations than conversations. The quiet moments that once held comfort but now felt strained, like neither of you knew what to say anymore. He would come home later, exhaustion etched into his features, and you’d be waiting, hoping for something—anything—to remind you of what you once had. But it never came. His kisses were still there, but they were different. Routine. A habit rather than a desire. And that scared you more than anything.

Levi had always been the type to carry his emotions carefully, tucking them away where no one could reach them. But you had always known how to read him. And the truth was, he had been pulling away for a while now. Maybe not intentionally, maybe not even consciously, but you could feel it, like a slow, inevitable tide pulling him further and further out of reach. He still loved you—you knew that. But love wasn’t always enough. Not when the silences between you stretched longer than the conversations, not when you felt lonelier with him than you ever did alone.

You had tried to fight for it, for him, for what you built together. You had tried to remind him of the love that once felt like home, like something neither of you would ever have to question. You planned dinners, showed up at his training sessions, left little notes in the pockets of his jackets, just like you used to. And for a while, it almost felt like things were getting better. He’d kiss you longer, pull you closer, whisper things that sounded like hope against your skin. But it was fleeting. A temporary fix to something deeper, something neither of you wanted to name out loud.

And now, standing in his apartment as the golden light of the setting sun washed over everything, you realized that the fight was over. Not because you didn’t love him anymore, but because you loved him too much to keep holding on when you knew it was hurting you both. Love, in its truest form, wasn’t supposed to feel like this. Like waiting for something that would never come. Like grasping at something slipping through your fingers no matter how tightly you held on.

Levi hadn’t said much, but he didn’t need to. The silence between you told the story neither of you wanted to speak aloud. You could tell he was trying to find the right words. Words that might soften the blow, that might make this hurt less. But there weren’t any. You had both known this moment was coming. You had both felt the ending long before it arrived. And that was the hardest part—not the anger, not the fights, not even the pain. Just the quiet acceptance that love alone wasn’t enough to keep you together. There was no need for words between the two of you—everything had already been said, written in the spaces between your breaths and the pauses in your conversations.

The golden hour light filtered softly through the large windows of Levi’s apartment, casting elongated shadows that stretched across the sleek, polished wooden floors. The soft amber and rose hues of the setting sun bled into the room, bathing the space in a gentle warmth. Everything was tinged with that fleeting glow, transforming the otherwise simple, modern apartment into something dreamlike—like a scene from a painting. There was a quiet stillness to the air, almost as if the whole world outside had slowed down, leaving the two of you suspended in time. You stood by the floor-to-ceiling windows, arms wrapped tightly around yourself, not for warmth but for comfort, as you gazed out at the London skyline. The city stretched out beneath you, its buildings sprawling like giants in the distance, bathed in the last remnants of the sun’s light. The sky above had taken on a gradient of colors, with the softest shades of amber and rose slowly merging and shifting, stretching toward the inevitable night. You watched as the light began to fade, but there was something inside of you—an ache—that wanted it to last longer.

Just a little longer. If only time would slow, just for a few minutes, enough to hold onto the way this moment felt before it all slipped through your fingers. You wanted to capture it, to freeze it in place. The beauty of the scene outside was starkly juxtaposed by the heaviness in your chest. You could feel the weight of the finality in the air, and it was suffocating, even in the midst of the quiet beauty.

Behind you, you could sense him before you heard him. Levi sat on the edge of the couch, his posture rigid, elbows resting on his knees, head slightly bowed as though the weight of the situation had pressed him down. The light caught the sharp angles of his jaw and the dark strands of his hair, falling messily against his forehead. You could feel the quiet tension between you, so thick it almost seemed to hang in the air like a heavy fog, making it hard to breathe. He hadn’t spoken much since you arrived, and you realized, with a sinking feeling in your stomach, that he didn’t need to.

You exhaled slowly, shifting your weight slightly on your feet. Finally, you felt him move, his voice breaking through the heavy stillness. When he spoke, his words were quiet, almost tentative, as if he were unsure whether he wanted to break the fragile silence that surrounded you both. “So this is it then?”

His voice sent a fresh, sharp ache through your chest, a painful reminder of the reality of it all. You stood frozen for a moment, not sure how to answer, not sure if you could answer. Slowly, you turned to face him, and the moment your eyes locked with his, it felt like the wind had been knocked out of you. For the first time, you saw him—really saw him. Levi, usually so composed, so controlled, now looked entirely different. There was a weariness in his eyes, a quiet exhaustion that had nothing to do with football. The weight of everything between you was too heavy for him to bear. The sharp line of his jaw was tense, his brows furrowed in that familiar crease that spoke of worry, of something deeper than just the surface of a football game or a training session. His dark brown eyes, usually filled with the usual quiet confidence, were instead clouded with something you couldn’t quite place—rawness, vulnerability, maybe even regret. It wasn’t just his eyes that gave him away. His hands, usually so steady, were clenched in tight fists on his lap, his knuckles stark white in contrast to his skin. The air between you was thick, charged, and all you wanted to do was reach out to him. But you knew that if you did, you’d never be able to let go.

You swallowed hard, the lump in your throat tightening as you fought to steady your breathing. His question hung in the air between you, and the weight of it pressed down on you, suffocating you in ways that no words ever could. You had known—both of you had known—that this moment would come, but saying it out loud felt like a betrayal. “I think we both knew it was coming” you whispered, the words tasting bitter as they left your lips, laden with the sorrow you had been holding inside for so long.

Levi let out a slow breath, a low sound that seemed to carry all the weight of the conversation, all the years of unspoken emotions and fractured moments. He ran a hand down his face, the action almost mechanical, like he was trying to rub away the exhaustion, the grief that clung to him. He shook his head softly, a humorless chuckle slipping from his throat. “Yeah… maybe. I just didn’t want to admit it” he admitted, his voice rough and strained, like he was fighting back something that was much larger than either of you. It wasn’t just the end of your relationship, you realized—it was everything, all the weight of the unsaid things, the unfinished stories that would never come to light. The ache in his voice mirrored the ache in your chest, a jagged wound that you couldn’t fix.

You took a step forward, each movement slow, like the ground beneath your feet might crack open if you moved too quickly. You were terrified that getting too close would shatter the fragile thread that still connected you, but your heart was already betraying you, pulling you toward him, against your better judgment. Levi didn’t move, didn’t retreat. He stayed there, sitting on the couch, his eyes never leaving you as you came to stand between his parted knees. His presence was suffocating in the best and worst ways, the space around him charged with the weight of everything unsaid. You stood there for a long moment, your fingers twitching at your sides, aching to reach out for him. You wanted to touch him, to smooth over the tension that had taken root in his shoulders, to hold him like you had so many times before. But you couldn’t. You knew you couldn’t.

Instead, you inhaled deeply, trying to steady the tremor in your chest, trying to make sense of the swirling emotions that were threatening to overtake you. Your words were soft, but they held so much weight as you whispered, “I don’t regret any of it” The confession fell from your lips like a quiet promise, one you weren’t sure you’d ever be able to fully keep, but you said it anyway, because it was the truth.

His lips parted slightly, and for a brief moment, his eyes softened, the walls he’d built around himself crumbling just enough to reveal the vulnerability beneath. His breath hitched, and before you could even think to pull away, his hand lifted, warm and familiar. It wrapped around your wrist, his fingers curling around you with a quiet intensity that made your heart skip a beat. He didn’t grip you tightly—he never did—but it was enough. Just enough to make you feel the pull, to make you hesitate, like the weight of his touch had an invisible tether that you couldn’t ignore.

“Then don’t go” he murmured, his voice so soft, so pleading, that it sent a tremor through your body. The words were laced with desperation, with a longing that twisted your insides. The space between you both seemed to close in, the air thick with something you couldn’t name, something that held you in place even as every part of you wanted to move, wanted to give in to the urge to stay. But you couldn’t. You knew you couldn’t.

Your resolve wavered, just for a moment, the invisible force between you so strong that it almost overwhelmed you. The connection, the history, the intimacy you had shared—it all came rushing back in a tidal wave. You had spent so much time memorizing him, every detail of him—the sharp cut of his jaw, the way his dark brown eyes would soften when he was being serious, the fullness of his lips when he would smile, the way his gaze would darken when he was thinking. You had cataloged every inch of him, every moment, and now, standing here, you could feel yourself pulling toward him, the magnetism of his presence impossible to resist.

But you had to resist. You had to.

You let out a shaky breath, forcing yourself to shake your head, to put distance between you that neither of you seemed willing to close. “You deserve someone who can meet you where you are” you said, your voice barely above a whisper, cracking under the weight of the words. “And I deserve to be the person I’m meant to be” Saying it out loud felt like ripping off a bandage, but there was no other choice.

Levi’s jaw tightened, his features hardening for a brief moment, and you saw the way his grip on your wrist loosened, just enough to let you go. But he didn’t fully release you. His fingers lingered, brushing the inside of your wrist, his thumb gliding slowly, almost absent-mindedly, over the sensitive skin of your palm. It was a touch that spoke louder than words—muscle memory, something deep inside him that couldn’t stop himself from reaching for you, even now, even when he knew it was too late. The slow, absent-minded stroke was like a quiet confession in itself, a final, fleeting reminder of everything you had been. The air between you was heavy with unspoken longing, and for a moment, you weren’t sure if you could walk away.

The silence between you stretched, thick with longing, saturated with the ghosts of things left unsaid, the weight of your shared history hanging in the air like a heavy, fragile thread. Neither of you moved, each of you caught in the stillness, knowing that one of you had to make the first move, but neither of you ready to do it. The tension was unbearable, thick enough to suffocate you, but at the same time, it was the one thing that kept you anchored to this moment, to him.

Then, as though drawn by the same invisible force that had kept you tethered here, Levi moved. Slowly, he stood, rising to his full height, his presence swallowing the space between you, commanding attention in the quiet room. He was so close that the air between you seemed to shimmer with the pull of his gravity. The scent of his cologne, warm and familiar, still clung to his skin, wrapping around you like a memory, like something that had always been a part of you. It was the kind of scent that felt like home—deep, comforting, with an edge of something sharper, more complex. The kind of scent you’d never forget.

Your breath hitched as he lifted his hand toward you, his fingers brushing against your cheek in the lightest, most delicate touch. It sent a shiver racing down your spine, a tingling warmth spreading from the point of contact, spreading like fire across your skin. Your heart thudded loudly in your chest, each beat sounding like a drum, a rhythm you couldn’t escape. His gaze was heavy, searching, as if he was trying to memorize every detail of you, every curve of your face, every line of your body, as if he were trying to hold on to something that was slipping through his fingers. His eyes traced the shape of your lips, lingering there for a moment too long, and you could feel the tension building between you, the magnetic pull that had always existed.

You barely realized you were swaying toward him, your body betraying you, moving on its own, as if it knew something your mind was too afraid to admit. Your fingers twitched, curling into the fabric of his shirt as if you could hold him in place, as if you could stop time, stop yourself from walking away. His nose brushed against yours, the touch so featherlight that it felt like it was the only thing keeping you grounded, the only thing tethering you to reality. His breath hitched, and you felt it—felt the hesitation, the way he was fighting the urge to lean in, to close the space between you. There was an undeniable pull, something so raw, so desperate that it nearly consumed you both. But then, in that suspended moment, you realized that all it would take was the slightest tilt of your chin, the faintest movement of your lips, and you would be kissing him. You would be tangled in the softness of his lips, in the warmth of his touch, and you weren’t sure if you could walk away from that.

But then, just as suddenly, reality came crashing down. It was sharp, unforgiving, and harsh in its clarity. The weight of your decision pressed down on you, cutting through the longing, through the desire, through the history that held you together like chains. You exhaled sharply, forcing yourself to pull away before you could cross that line, before you could do something you would never be able to undo. You couldn’t give in. Not like this.

Levi’s eyes flickered, and in that brief moment, you saw everything—the pain, the understanding, the frustration—tangled together in a storm that you couldn’t fight. He dropped his hand from your cheek, fingers flexing at his sides like he was struggling to let you go. His eyes held yours, unblinking, his gaze unreadable, but there was something in it. Something raw, something almost desperate. A quiet plea for you to stay, even though you both knew you couldn’t.

Your throat tightened, a lump forming that made it impossible to speak. But somehow, you managed to get the words out, your voice trembling as you said, “Goodbye Levi” It felt like the hardest thing you’d ever said, like each letter was a weight that you couldn’t carry.

His jaw clenched at the words, his lips pressing into a thin line, his whole body stiffening with emotion. But he didn’t speak. He didn’t say anything. He just held your gaze, something unreadable swimming in his dark eyes, something that you couldn’t quite place but felt deep in your bones. And then, after a long moment, he gave you the smallest nod. It was almost imperceptible, a subtle movement that meant everything. An unspoken okay, a silent acceptance of the decision you’d made, even if it hurt him. Even if it killed him.

You turned away before you could change your mind, before the pull of his gaze could drag you back to him. Your steps were slow, each one feeling heavier than the last as you moved toward the door. The weight of your decision was starting to settle in, pressing down on you, making every movement feel like it was taking everything you had left. Your fingers trembled slightly as you reached for the door handle, the cool metal grounding you, reminding you that this was real, that this was happening. Your heart was racing, but it wasn’t relief. Not yet. Maybe not ever. But there was something else—a strange, unsettling sense of lightness.

It wasn’t the freedom you had imagined, but there was something freeing in knowing that love, even the deepest kind, didn’t always have to end in ruin. Sometimes, love meant knowing when to let go, when to walk away, even when every part of you screamed to stay.

As you stepped out into the cool evening air, the London cityscape stretching out before you, the soft hum of the city blending with the rhythm of your heart, you felt it. You couldn’t explain it, but you swore you could feel them—the wings, unfolding, lifting you, carrying you toward something new, something different. Pretty wings, light and delicate, but strong enough to carry you away from this moment, this love, and toward the future waiting for you.

[snowseasonmademe]

A Beloved Reunion

word count: 8,275

warning ‼️: smut !

paring: levi x black female reader

summary: levi come home after being away for what feels like an eternity and you both properly welcome him home.

note: hi everyone! here’s my first levi fic. i know it’s long yall but it’s real good (😏). thanks to the anon who asked me to wrote this. it actually took a lot longer than i thought it would but i like writing anyway so it’s okay. as i said in my last post im gonna go for a bit because the people on this app are insane. one of my moots had to leave completely and im really upset about it. nobody should ever be doxxed over a football debate. anyway y’all, enjoy this super sweet lover boy levi. and ofc tell me what you think !

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The sound of the front door opening was soft, almost hesitant, but it yanked you out of your restless sleep. For a moment, you thought you were imagining things, but then the creak of the floorboards—that familiar creak—sent a jolt through you. Your heart raced as realization sank in: Levi was home.

You threw the duvet off, feet barely brushing the floor as you padded quickly toward the living room. Outside, rain pattered against the windows, its rhythmic drumming a perfect backdrop to the storm of emotions brewing inside you. Twelve days. Twelve long days without him. The ache of his absence had been a constant companion, and now, finally, it was over.

When you saw him standing there, duffel bag slung over his shoulder, his dark curls slightly mussed, you froze. He looked… different. His shoulders, already broad, seemed even wider, stretching the fabric of his hoodie. His chest looked fuller, tapering down to a trim waist that hinted at hours in the gym. Even his arms—strong before—seemed impossibly bigger now, the sleeves of his hoodie hugging them snugly. You stared, unblinking, as your gaze trailed down the sharp cut of his jaw, now more defined, the slight scruff on his face only adding to his rugged appeal.

"Hi my love" he said, his voice a deep, gravelly rumble that sent a shiver down your spine.

You didn't respond immediately, your brain still catching up with your heart. He looked… good. Better than good. He looked like every fantasy you'd conjured in his absence, but somehow even better. He wasn't just Levi; he was Levi 2.0, impossibly more attractive, and the sight of him left your mouth dry.

When you finally moved, it was instinctive. You closed the distance between you in a few quick strides, throwing your arms around his waist and pressing yourself against him. His bag hit the floor with a heavy thud, and his arms were around you just as quickly, holding you tightly. His body was firm, solid in a way that made you feel safe and something more… something hotter.

He buried his face into your neck, his warm breath brushing your skin as he inhaled deeply. "God I missed you" he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.

"Twelve days" you whispered, your voice trembling as your hands roamed over his back, the muscles there impossibly hard beneath his hoodie. "It felt like a year."

"Never again" he promised, his lips brushing your skin. "I mean it babe. I'm not going that long without you. I barely slept."

He pulled back just enough to look at you, his hands framing your face. His thumbs stroked your cheeks as if to memorize your touch all over again. His brown eyes, soft and glassy with emotion, searched yours. "God I missed you" he said again, his voice raw. "I missed everything about you."

You let your fingers trace the curve of his jawline, noting how much sharper it felt, and how his cheekbones stood out just a bit more. "Missed you too baby" you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper. Then, unable to help yourself, you added, "But you've been busy lifting semi-trucks, haven't you? Look at you—what are they feeding you on during training?"

His grin was sheepish, but his eyes sparkled with warmth. "You like it?" he teased, stepping back slightly to flex his arm. The movement was playful, and sexy. The way his bicep strained against the fabric of his hoodie made your breath hitch.

"Like it?" you repeated, the heat in your tone unmistakable as your gaze shamelessly roamed his frame. "I love it."

His grin widened, and he closed the space between you again, leaning in to press a lingering kiss to your forehead. "I was hoping you'd notice" he said softly, his voice laced with amusement.

"Notice?" You gave him a teasing smirk, though your pulse was racing. "Baby it's hard not to notice."

The way you said it—low and full of heat—made him chuckle, though a faint blush crept up his neck. "Alright, alright" he said, shaking his head but clearly pleased. "Let me shower first. I smell like plane air."

You tilted your head, giving him an exaggerated sniff. "Yeah, you do" you teased, though the playful glint in your eyes softened with longing. "Go on then. Twenty minutes tops."

"I’ll make it eighteen" he promised, already heading toward the bathroom. But before disappearing through the doorway, he turned back, catching you staring at him with a look that made his smirk return. And as he disappeared, you found yourself biting your lip, heart pounding. If Levi thought you'd missed him before, he had no idea just how much you missed all of him now.

When he returned, the sight of him stole your breath. His skin was still damp from the shower, a few rogue droplets clinging to the sharp lines of his collarbone and trailing down his chest, disappearing beneath the crisp white T-shirt that clung to him like a second skin. His hair was darker now, wet and curling at the edges, framing his sharp temples in a way that made your stomach flutter. He looked like a dream—one so vivid it felt impossible to look away.

The shirt, stretched over his impossibly broad shoulders and snug against the defined ridges of his chest, left little to the imagination. It was unfair, really, how good he looked—bigger, stronger, and somehow even more magnetic than before. Your gaze shamelessly roamed his frame, lingering on the way his forearms flexed as he wiped his hand over his face, brushing away the lingering wetness from his shower. Even the slight scruff along his jaw, dark and rugged, only added to the devastating effect he had on you.

Heat rushed to your cheeks as you drank him in, your pulse quickening with each second you spent staring. It was almost ridiculous how turned on you were, how seeing him like this—freshly showered, built like a work of art, and effortlessly beautiful—sent a wave of longing crashing over you. Your fingers tightened around the duvet as you tried to keep your composure, but it was useless. He was yours, and right now, all you wanted was to feel him, to have him.

Without hesitation, Levi crawled into bed beside you, pulling you close as though you were the only thing tethering him to the earth. The warmth of his freshly showered skin seeped into you, and the clean, masculine scent of his soap made your head spin. Your cheek rested against his chest, the firm muscle beneath rising and falling steadily, but the feeling of his body—newly bulked and impossibly solid—was making it hard to focus on anything else.

"You're not allowed to leave me again" he murmured, his lips brushing the top of your head as his arm curled possessively around you. "I don't care if the Queen herself calls you. You're staying right here."

His voice was low, rough with fatigue, but there was an unmistakable edge of need in it. You let out a soft laugh, your fingers trailing over the planes of his chest. The shirt was no barrier to the heat of him, nor the way the muscles shifted beneath your touch. "And here I thought you were the busy one" you teased, though your voice betrayed how distracted you were by the sheer physicality of him.

"Don't care" he muttered, his grip tightening as he pressed a kiss into your hair. "We'll figure it out. I'm not sleeping without you again babe. It was torture."

You tilted your head to look up at him, your hand sliding up to cup his cheek. His jawline, more defined than ever, felt sharp beneath your fingers, and the slight scruff there added a ruggedness that made your heart race. "You're so clingy" you teased softly, though your pulse was hammering.

"Just making up for lost time" he countered with a smirk, his brown eyes glinting as he leaned down to press his lips to yours. The kiss started slow, his lips warm and soft against yours. He kissed you like he was rediscovering every inch of you, savoring the way you fit against him, the way your lips moved together. You pulled back, admiring how sexy he was, even when he was exhausted.

"What are you looking at?" he asked sarcastically. "I'm looking at you Levi, you look so good right now….It's a problem. How am I supposed to focus when you look this good?". His laughter was soft, rumbling in his chest as he tightened his hold on you. "Good thing you don't need to focus right now" he murmured, his lips brushing your ear. "Just relax love. I'm not going anywhere."

But relaxing was easier said than done with him this close, his freshly showered skin warm against yours, and the scent of his soap—clean and masculine—making your head spin. Your fingers couldn't stop exploring, tracing over every ridge and curve as if memorizing him all over again. It was impossible not to notice how much bigger he felt, how every part of him seemed stronger, harder.

"You're dangerous, you know that?" you whispered, tilting your head to look up at him.

"Dangerous?" he repeated, his brow arching playfully.

"For my sanity" you clarified, though your voice trembled with the depth of your desire.

His gaze softened, and he pressed a gentle kiss to your lips. "You're the one driving me mad" he murmured against your mouth, his voice rough with emotion. "You have no idea how much I missed you."

And just like that, the teasing gave way to something deeper, more urgent. His kisses deepened, the slow burn of longing igniting between you, and every touch, every whispered word, reminded you that he was yours—stronger, more beautiful, and impossibly more irresistible than ever.

When you pulled back, slightly breathless, he whispered, "I love you. So much. It actually hurts being away from you."

His voice cracked slightly on the last word, and it made your chest ache. "I love you too" you murmured, your fingers tangling in his curls. They were softer than you expected, and you couldn't resist tugging lightly, just to feel the way he melted into your touch. "More than anything."

His kisses deepened, the feeling of yearning changed into something more urgent. His hands roamed your body with a reverence that made your heart ache, as if he were memorizing every curve, every dip. The feel of his larger, stronger hands on your waist sent a wave of heat through you, and you couldn't stop yourself from pressing closer.

"I need you" he breathed against your skin, his voice thick with raw emotion. "I need you, baby. Right now. Please."

There was something almost desperate in his tone, a vulnerability that made your chest tighten. "I'm yours" you whispered, your voice barely audible as your lips brushed his. "I'm right here"

His response was a low, guttural sound as he kissed you again, this time with a hunger that left you trembling. His hands explored you with a tenderness that belied the strength behind them, mapping every inch of your body like he was relearning you after too long apart. His lips pressed soft, heated kisses along your neck, his whispered words of love and longing sending shivers down your spine.

"Every damn night, I missed this. Missed you. Missed your touch, your smell, the way you feel…"

"I thought about this every night" he confessed between kisses, his voice rough. His words trailed off as his lips found yours again, his hands cradling your face as though you were the most precious thing in the world. He kissed you with an intensity that left no doubt of how much he'd missed you, his body pressing against yours in a way that made you ache for him. The heat between you grew with every press of his lips, every sweep of his tongue against yours. It wasn't rushed—if anything, it felt intentional, as though he wanted to savor every second of this moment after being apart for so long.

The rain outside created a soft, rhythmic melody, its steady patter a comforting contrast to the rising tension in the room. Levi shifted slightly, leaning over you, his hand slipping to your waist as he deepened the kiss. His thumb brushed the bare skin just above your hip, sending shivers through you. The weight of his body pressing against yours was grounding, his strength and warmth a stark reminder of just how much you'd missed him.

When he finally pulled back, both of you slightly breathless, he rested his forehead against yours. His warm, brown eyes searched yours, filled with something raw and unfiltered. "I love you" he whispered, his voice low and full of yearning. "I don't think I even realized how much I need you until I didn't have you."

His words made your chest tighten, and you reached up to cup his face, your thumbs brushing the sharp line of his jaw. "You have me now" you whispered back, your voice trembling with emotion. "I love you too Levi"

Levi exhaled slowly as if grounding himself in your words. He kissed you again, this time even slower, even gentler, his lips exploring yours with a reverence that made you drip. His hands moved to cradle the sides of your neck, his thumbs brushing over your pulse points. It felt as though he wanted to feel every part of you, as though he couldn't get close enough.

The warmth of his freshly showered skin seeped into yours as he shifted again, his body settling more fully against you. One of his hands slid down your side, his palm wide and firm as it mapped the curve of your waist. When his fingers skimmed the bare skin beneath the hem of your oversized T-shirt, you felt a jolt of heat spark through you.

"You're unreal" he murmured, his voice rough, his gaze locked onto yours. The way he looked at you—like you were the only thing that mattered in the world—made you feel both cherished and desired in a way that left you breathless.

His lips returned to yours, trailing kisses down your jaw and neck, taking his time as he lingered over the sensitive spots that made you shiver. You could feel his body tensing against you, the strength in his arms caging you in without ever making you feel trapped. His kisses grew hungrier, the gentle pressure of his lips giving way to something deeper, more demanding.

His strong hands pushed the hem of your—his—oversized T-shirt up, revealing the soft skin of your bare torso. The room's cool air contrasted deliciously with his touch's heat, making you shiver. His fingers brushed along your sides, pausing just below your ribs, before sliding down to the waistband of your panties. He hooked a finger under the fabric and pushed them down with extreme leisure, his eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that made you feel utterly exposed and completely worshipped all at once.

He stilled for a moment, his calloused fingertips tracing lazy patterns on your inner thighs, sending shivers coursing through your body. His touch was featherlight, as if savoring the feel of your skin beneath his hands, but the intensity in his eyes told a different story. His gaze flicked downward, lingering where his hands rested just shy of where you wanted him most. When his eyes finally met yours again, they were darker than you'd ever seen them, filled with an unmistakable hunger that sent heat pooling low in your stomach.

You felt utterly exposed under his gaze, his presence overwhelming in the most intoxicating way. The sound of the rain against the window faded into the background, leaving only the rhythm of your breaths and the electric tension between you. His thumb shifted slightly, brushing against the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, and your breath hitched. You felt like a tightly coiled spring, every nerve ending attuned to him, waiting, aching for his next move.

Levi's chest rose and fell heavily as he stared at you, his lips slightly parted. The air between you crackled with anticipation, and you could see the subtle clench of his jaw as if he was holding himself back. "You're perfect" he murmured, his voice rough with emotion. "I don't think you understand what you do to me."

His words sent a flush of heat through you, and your thighs instinctively pressed together, desperate for some kind of relief. But Levi's hands immediately slid to your knees, gently prying them apart as his gaze pinned you in place. "No" he said softly but firmly, his voice thick with desire. "Don't hide from me. Let me see you."

The vulnerability in the moment made your pulse race, but the intensity of his gaze—filled with reverence and raw need—gave you the courage to relax under his touch. His hands slid back up your thighs, this time with more purpose, the pads of his fingers pressing into your skin in a way that left you trembling. He leaned down, his broad shoulders framing your view, his curls brushing against your bare thighs as he moved closer.

The first brush of his lips against the inside of your thigh made you gasp, the warmth of his mouth contrasting with the cool air of the room. He took his time, placing wet kisses along your skin, his scruff adding an edge of roughness that sent sparks shooting through you. Each kiss brought him closer to where you needed him, but he never rushed, savoring every inch of you as though you were the most precious thing he'd ever touched.

"Levi" you whispered, your voice barely audible, but he heard you. He glanced up, his eyes locking with yours, and the corner of his mouth lifted in the faintest smirk.

"Be patient with me baby" he said, his voice a low rasp that sent a shiver through you. "I've waited twelve days for this. I'm gonna take my time."

His words hung in the air, thick with promise, as his hands moved to your hips, grounding you beneath his touch. He exhaled, his warm breath ghosting over your most sensitive spot, and your body reacted instantly, a soft whimper escaping your lips.

"Fuck I missed this pretty pussy baby" he rasped, his voice vibrating against your skin as he finally leaned in. His warm breath fanned over your pussy, sending a fresh wave of heat coursing through you. His hands, now firm and steady, rested on your stomach, holding you in place as he finally gave in to his need for you.

His first lick was soft, almost teasing—just a gentle swipe over your sensitive bundle of nerves, as if testing the waters. Your body shuddered in response, a throaty moan spilling from your lips before you could stop it. He smiled against your clit, the curve of his lips wicked and full of intent.

"You taste even better than I remembered" he murmured, his voice low and husky, the vibrations of his words sending a jolt of pleasure through you.

Your breath hitched, your fingers gripping the sheets as he pressed his tongue flat against you, dragging it slowly from your entrance to your clit. The pace was maddening, his every movement calculated to unravel you. He delved deeper, parting your folds with his tongue to taste every inch of you, like a man savoring the thing he craved most in the world.

He groaned against your skin, his hands gripping your thighs firmly to hold you in place.

"Mmmm” You whimpered, your body trembling as he took his time exploring you. Each swipe of his tongue was precise, teasing and torturous in equal measure. His hands slid upward, fingers splaying over your hips before making their way to your breasts. He cupped them gently, his thumbs circling your nipples in time with the strokes of his tongue, doubling the pleasure coursing through your body.

"Oh Please" you gasped, your hands flying to his hair, desperate to anchor yourself as your hips bucked against his mouth. "I need more- I need you inside. Please. I missed you. I just want to feel you baby"

His groan was guttural, the weight of your words spurring him on. He curled his fingers under your thighs, pulling your legs further over his shoulders to open you up completely. "Fuck, I love hearing you say that" he confessed, his voice thick with emotion. His lips returned to your clit, this time sucking gently before releasing it with a wet pop that had you crying out. His tongue worked in small circles, coaxing every ounce of pleasure from you while his hands gripped your thighs with enough force to leave marks.

"You're so beautiful like this" he said between licks, his voice laced with awe. "Open up a little bit more for me". You did. You spread your legs wider than before, letting him taste even more of you.

You could barely form words, your body arching against him as the tension in your core built to an almost unbearable peak. "Please, don't stop. Don't tease me… I'm so close." you stammered, your voice breaking with need.

He slowed his pace , his lips ghosting over your clit instead of diving back in. "Not yet" he murmured with a smirk, his eyes dark with a mix of love and hunger as he looked up at you. "I want to take my time"

His tongue flicked over you again, this time paired with the scrape of his teeth—a sensation so unexpected and electrifying that it left you gasping. "Say it" he demanded softly, his fingers digging into your thighs as he pressed closer. "Tell me you're mine."

"I'm yours" you choked out, your voice trembling with desperation. "I've always been yours. I'll always be yours. Just—please—don't make me wait any longer."

His groan vibrated against you, the sound dripping with triumph and desire. "That's my girl" he whispered before his mouth returned to you with renewed purpose, his tongue and lips working in perfect harmony to drive you over the edge. This time, he didn't stop—didn't back off—giving you everything you needed, everything you'd been yearning for.

And when you shattered beneath him, your cries filling the room, he held you tighter, drinking in every sound, every tremor, as though he needed it just as much as you. You tried pushing his head away, to stop you from being overstimulated but, he didnt move.

"Wait, Im not done yet baby" he murmured against your core, his voice a low rumble that sent vibrations straight through you. His warm breath fanned over your most sensitive place, making your thighs tremble. "I'm not done tasting you yet. I need more" His lips pressed a lingering kiss against your clit, soft and reverent, before he dipped back down, his tongue thrusting deep inside you.

The movement was steady at first, his tongue curling up to press against that spot that made your hips buck uncontrollably. A low groan escaped him as he felt your body respond, his hands tightening on your thighs to hold you in place. "Taste so good" he whispered, the words barely audible over the wet sounds of his mouth working against you. Your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging gently, desperate for more. "Please" you gasped, your voice trembling. "Don't stop… please don't stop."

He glanced up at you, his eyes dark with hunger but soft with affection. One of his hands slid upward, his fingers pinching your nipple softly, sending shocks of pleasure through you. The other hand trailed down to your entrance, teasing you with just the tip of his finger, slipping inside briefly before pulling back again. He chuckled low in his throat at the way your hips sought him out, your need for him evident. His mouth resumed its heavenly rhythm, alternating between gentle sucking and firm pressure with his tongue. The sensations overwhelmed you, every nerve ending alight with pleasure as his skilled mouth worked you closer and closer to the edge.

"I really need you" you whimpered, your voice breathless as your hips arched toward him. "I've missed this so much. I've missed you. Please—" His pace quickened in response, his mouth firm against you now, his tongue moving in tandem with the finger he finally pushed inside you. He curled it just right, coaxing cries of pleasure from your lips, before adding a second finger, stretching you in the most delicious way.

"Oh my god yes" you cried out, your voice trembling with desperation. "Oh Im gonna cum, Im gonna cum". The raw need in your voice pushed him further. He moved one hand to press firmly against your lower belly, angling you perfectly to feel every flick of his tongue and stroke of his fingers. "That's it" he urged, his voice thick with satisfaction as he buried his face between your thighs. “Give it to me."

His nose pressed against your clit as he lapped furiously, his fingers pumping in and out with a rhythm so precise it left you helpless against the onslaught of pleasure. Your body began to tremble uncontrollably, your thighs quivering against his shoulders as your orgasm built impossibly high.

And then it hit you, the wave of pleasure crashing over you so intensely that it left you crying out his name, your back arching completely off the bed. Your entire body convulsed, wave after wave of ecstasy wracking you as your vision blurred and whitened. His name was the only word you could manage as your pussy clenched around his fingers, dripping against his mouth as he continued to devour you, drawing out every last spasm of pleasure.

When you finally stilled, trembling and spent, he kissed your inner thigh softly, his hands rubbing soothing circles on your hips. "Fucking delicious" he murmured, his voice filled with pride and love. You couldn't speak, your chest heaving as you reached for him, needing his warmth, his touch, his everything. And he was there, wrapping his arms around you, holding you close as you basked in the aftershocks of his love and devotion.

As the final tremors of your orgasm subsided, he licked his lips, savoring your taste like the finest dessert. His eyes flickered up to meet yours, dark and filled with a mix of pride and unrestrained desire as if your pleasure alone had completely unraveled him. With loving care, he lowered your legs from his shoulders, his large hands steadying you as though you were something fragile and sacred. He pressed tender kisses along your inner thighs, his lips lingering against your heated skin as he murmured something soft and inaudible, more to himself than to you

Your chest heaved as you tried to catch your breath, your body still trembling from the intensity of what he'd just done to you. Levi leaned back slightly, his hands never leaving your body as his fingertips traced lazy, soothing patterns over your thighs and hips. The contrast between his earlier hunger and the gentle reverence in his touch now left you breathless all over again. His gaze roamed over you, taking in every inch of your flushed skin, your tousled hair, and the way your chest rose and fell with each shallow breath.

"You're so sexy" he said, his voice low and hoarse. The raw honesty in his tone made your heart swell, and your cheeks flushed under his unwavering attention. He reached up, brushing a damp curl from your forehead before leaning down to kiss you—soft and unhurried, as though he had all the time in the world to show you how much he adored you. He layed on top of you, kissing your lips, making you taste yourself. In that moment your heart swelled. You couldnt ask for anything more, or better.

When he pulled back, his lips hovered just above yours, and his hand slid down to your thigh, his fingers pressing into your skin as though grounding himself in the reality of you. "Lift your legs" he said softly, the rough edge to his voice making your breath hitch.

The command, quiet but laced with authority, sent a spark of heat racing through you. You listened without hesitation, lifting your legs to the sides of his hips and letting him guide you. You were so wrapped up in the feeling of his lips on yours and the taste of yourself in your mouth that you didn't feel him slightly slide down his boxers and take his rock-hard dick out. His hands steadied you as he shifted, his broad shoulders blocking out the dim light as he positioned himself. He was unrushed in his movements, taking a moment to truly appreciate the sight of you. His gaze swept over your half-naked form, his eyes dark with desire as they lingered on the curves of your body, the sheen of sweat on your skin, the way your lips parted in anticipation. He took himself in hand, the head of his dick brushing against your sensitive entrance, and the sensation made your breath hitch.

He paused for just a moment, his gaze locking onto yours. "You okay baby?" he asked, his tone soft but tinged with urgency, as though he needed your reassurance before taking the next step.

You nodded, your voice trembling as you whispered, "Yes, Levi. Please."

That was all he needed. He would usually be a bit faster but this time he slowly pushed into you, his movements controlled, stretching and filling you in a way that felt different.

Did his dick get bigger too? It feels like our first time again. you thought to yourself

Levi groaned low in his throat, his hands gripping your thighs in the overwhelming sensation of being joined with you again.

Once he was fully inside you, he paused, letting you both adjust. His eyes never left yours, and the sheer intensity in his gaze made you feel utterly consumed. He exhaled, his breath brushing against your skin as he leaned down, shifting to be on top and settling his weight against you. His chest pressed against yours, warm and solid, as his arms wrapped around you, holding you close.

For a moment, neither of you moved, the sound of the rain outside mingling with the quiet gasps of shared breaths. It was intimate, vulnerable, and overwhelming in the best possible way—two souls finding their way back to one another after far too long apart.

The heat radiating from his body enveloped you, pulling you into the kind of warmth that made your toes curl and your heart race. His weight pressed you into the mattress in the most delicious way, his broad frame covering you completely as he settled between your legs. The soft fabric of his boxers brushed against your bare skin, the teasing friction against your ass making you gasp.

He began to move agonizingly slowly. Each movement sent delicious friction coursing through your body, his hardness sliding perfectly against your slickness, his teasing making your walls clench in anticipation. The pace was calm, building a steady burn that left you craving him with every passing second. Your hands gripped his shoulders, pulling him even closer to you, your nails digging into his warm skin as you tried to pull him closer, but Levi held his ground, maintaining his torturous rhythm.

His lips found the curve of your neck, the warmth of his breath brushing against your skin before his mouth pressed soft, lingering kisses there. Each kiss sent waves of heat through you, his lips exploring the sensitive spots he knew so well. He moved lower, his teeth grazing the delicate skin just above your collarbone before he sucked gently, the sharp contrast of pleasure and pain making you moan.

"Levi" you gasped, your voice shaky, as your fingers tangled in his curls.

He hummed against your skin, the vibration adding to the overload of sensations. "Hmm, you like that?" he murmured, his voice low and teasing, the deep timbre making your stomach flutter.

Before you could respond, he kissed the spot again, sucking harder this time, marking you in a way that left no doubt you were his. His hand slid up your side, his fingertips brushing along your ribs before settling just under your breast, his thumb tracing circles that sent sparks shooting through your body.

"You're so soft" he whispered, his lips moving against your skin as his hips rocked against you again, this time with a little more pressure. "Every damn night, I missed this." The combination of his words, his movements, and the heat of his body drove you wild. Your body arched against him, desperate for more, for all of him, but he continued his torturous pace, his control unshakable. The teasing friction, the possessive marks he left on your skin, and the low, reverent tone of his voice had you trembling beneath him, completely at his mercy.

Levi gently took your hands, his grip firm but tender, and guided them above your head, pressing them into the pillow. The dominance in the gesture sent a shiver down your spine, but the way his fingers intertwined with yours and held them gently grounded you in the warmth of his touch. His dark eyes bore into yours, his expression softening despite the commanding hold. He leaned in, so close that his breath mingled with yours, his forehead brushing against yours as he murmured, "Keep your hands here, okay?"

The tenderness in his voice made your chest tighten, his tone dripping with both care and desire. He rubbed soothing circles on your knuckles with his thumb, as if to remind you that he had you, that you were safe in his hands. "I need you to stay like this" he whispered, his voice dropping an octave, laced with yearning. His forehead pressed more firmly against yours, his lips grazing your nose in the most delicate of touches.

His words, spoken so softly yet so full of need, sent heat rushing through you. You nodded, your breath hitching, but before you could say anything, Levi kissed you. It wasn't rushed or desperate—it was consuming, the kind of kiss that made you forget the rest of the world existed.

Then he began to move again. His thrusts were slow but deep, each one filling you completely, making your back arch and your breath catch. The contrast between the commanding way he held your hands and the loving, almost worshipful way he gazed at you had your head spinning. He released one of his hands only usinf one to hold bothof yours. His free hand moved to your cheek, the calloused pad of his thumb brushing away a stray lock of hair as though he couldn't bear for anything to obscure his view of you.

"Look at me" he murmured, his tone both pleading and reverent. You quickly unrolled your eyes from the back of your head and locked eyes with him. His hips pressed into yours again, this time, the depth of each movement making you gasp. "Let me see you baby."

His eyes never left yours, their intensity making your heart race. "You're so beautiful," he breathed, his voice thick with emotion, as though the words weren't enough to convey how he felt. His gaze softened even further as he took you in, his body moving in perfect rhythm with yours, his love for you shining through every touch, every whispered word.

"I missed you so much" he confessed once again, his voice cracking slightly as he leaned in to kiss the corner of your mouth. "Twelve days without this, without you… was hell."

His hand moved from your cheek, trailing down to your jawline and then your neck, his fingers grazing your pulse point where your heart raced for him. "I love you" he whispered, his voice shaking with vulnerability. "More than anything."

The way he spoke, his words saturated with need and adoration, made you feel cherished in a way that went beyond the physical. You tightened your hands instinctively beneath his hold, wanting to pull him closer, but he chuckled softly, his lips brushing against your ear.

"Uh uh" he murmured, his tone teasing but firm. "Hands stay right there love. Let me take care of you."

And he did—each movement, each whispered declaration, each soft press of his lips against your skin, all of it reminded you of the depth of his love. Levi wasn't just making love to you; he was pouring his soul into every moment, making sure you felt exactly how much he'd missed you, how much he adored you, and how deeply he was yours.

Levi's grip on your hands remained firm but tender, his long fingers intertwined with yours as if anchoring you to him. The contrast between his soft touch and the powerful way he moved within you sent shivers down your spine. He held you steady, his body pressed tightly against yours, every roll of his hips passionate and claiming. His forehead dropped to yours, his warm breath mingling with yours, and the raw emotion in his eyes nearly brought tears to your own.

"Uuuhh, I missed you so fucking much Levi" you whispered, you voice hoarse and trembling with a need so intense it made his chest tighten. His lips brushed against yours, the kiss soft, almost reverent, as if he couldn't believe you were finally here with him. His thrusts sped up, his body pressing into yours with an unrelenting sweetness that made your toes curl and your mind blank.

Your breath hitched as he filled you completely, his hard length hitting the deepest, most sensitive parts of you. The pleasure was overwhelming, spreading through your body in waves that left you gasping for air. A soft whimper escaped your lips, your body arching to meet his, and Levi wasted no time capturing the sound with his mouth.

Your lips molded against his in a kiss that was velvety and consuming, your tongue brushing against his as he swallowed every little sound of pleasure you made. You kissed him like it was the only way to express the depths of your love, pouring everything you couldn't say into the way his lips moved against yours.

"You feel so good inside me baby" you murmured against his lips, your voice cracking slightly as if you were unable to put into words how intense your feelings were. Each thrust was faster and deeper, his body moving in unison with yours in an almost hypnotic rhythm. His eyes locked onto yours with a desperation that made your heart palpitate as he pressed his forehead against yours again. His gaze filled with nothing but adoration and yearning left you speechless. He tightened his hold on your hands, his tone possessive but full of love. squeezing them gently as if grounding himself in your presence

Every word, every kiss, every movement of his body felt like a promise—a reminder of how deeply he loved and needed you. The intensity of his emotions, combined with the overwhelming pleasure he was giving you, left you trembling beneath him, completely and irrevocably his.

He suddenly picked up his pace, his throbbing dick slamming into your pussy with passion. All you could do was lay there and take it. But this is exactly what you've been craving. The love of your life giving you impossible amounts of pleasure. The sounds coming from both of you were borderline otherworldly. The sounds of the rain on the windows. The extremely dim room. Your sweat mixed with his. Your arousal fluids are all over his lower body. It was something straight out of a movie.

He dipped his head, capturing your lips in a kiss so achingly slow it felt like time itself stopped. Each movement of his mouth against yours spoke of longing, devotion, and the kind of love that seared itself into your soul.

"Oh God Levi, why are you fucking me like this?" you cry out in desperation. "Mmm because I love you, so much….fuck" he moans right against your ear, whispering a curse at the end.

His hips continued grinding inside and out. Long hard strokes to your inner walls. The tension between you built with every breath, every whispered word.

The intensity of your feelings washed over you, leaving you breathless and completely undone. His rhythm quickened slightly, and your hands clung to him, nails digging into his back as if afraid he might disappear. Tears slipped from the corners of your eyes as his words and actions intertwined, leaving no part of you untouched by his devotion. You felt completely loved, and completely his in this moment. Every breath you took seemed to draw him deeper into your soul, binding you to him in ways words could never capture.

"Its okay baby, dont cry" His voice was soft but laced with unshakable certainty, like a vow that reached into the very fabric of your being. He kissed the tears from your cheeks, each touch as tender as it was consuming, his lips trailing down to your jaw, then back to your mouth.

The kiss he gave you then was slower, filled with a yearning so potent it stole the air from your lungs. You gasped against him, the sound swallowed by his lips as his body pressed into yours with renewed urgency. His hand slid down your side, possessive yet gentle, leaving a trail of warmth in its wake.

Sensing your trembling, he paused, his lips brushing against your temple as he murmured, "I can feel you" he murmured, his forehead pressing against yours as he gazed into your eyes. He let go of your hands and immediatly moved his hands to hook under your shoulders.

Your hands tangling in his hair as you pulled him closer. "Uuh yes just like that, so so good" you cried out, rolling your eyes back, your voice catching as his hips rocked into you. Something shifted in him then, his need for you sharpening like a blade. He groaned low in his throat, his lips finding yours again in a kiss that left you trembling. His fingers slid over your clit, the sensation sent a jolt of electricity through you, pulling a moan from deep within your chest.

"Cum for me Y/n" he whispered, his voice rough yet sweet as honey, his words spilling directly into your heart. The heat in his gaze was matched only by the tenderness in his touch. His movements grew more urgent, his hips driving into you with deep, purposeful thrusts that left no doubt of his devotion.

His fingers worked in perfect sync with his body, unrelenting, every motion designed to push you closer to the edge. "I want to feel it" he rasped, his lips grazing your neck, his teeth teasing just enough to make you shiver.

Your heart thundered in your chest as his words wrapped around you, their intensity only matched by the sensations he was pulling from you. Your body arched into him, surrendering completely as your breaths grew ragged, your world narrowing to the man above you.

Your breath became ragged, each exhale blending with his as his fingers worked magic on your sensitive bundle of nerves, teasing and circling with precision. His movements were skilled, practiced, but driven by pure need, his every action a worship of your body. Meanwhile, his dick hit just the right spot inside you with each steady thrust, igniting sparks that spread through every inch of your being.

With a final thrust, you felt him swell inside you, his body tensing as his release overtook him. His hot release spilled deep within, the sensation overwhelming, and then his lips captured yours in a searing, desperate kiss that left no space between you. The intensity of it all—the sound of his breathless groans, the way his body trembled against yours, the sheer devotion in the way he held you—pushed you over the edge.

Your orgasm hit like a earthquake, your body convulsing with pleasure so intense it bordered on pain. You cried out into his mouth, your voice muffled as his tongue danced with yours, swallowing every sound you made. The world around you blurred, leaving nothing but the feeling of him—of his hands, his lips, his body completely intertwined with yours.

As the tremors of your release subsided, you collapsed into him, your heart still racing, your breaths uneven. He stayed inside you, unwilling to break the connection, his body heavy but comforting against yours. Slowly, he nuzzled your neck, his lips brushing the spot where your pulse pounded, planting soft kisses there that made your heart flutter all over again.

"Are you okay?" he asked softly, his voice hoarse but laced with tenderness as he pulled back just enough to look at you. His fingers gently brushed stray strands of hair from your damp forehead, his gaze filled with love so deep it made your chest ache.

You nodded, your arms finally free to wrap around his neck. "Yeah, Im happy" you whispered, your voice still shaky, but filled with sincerity. "You make me feel so good"

He smiled against your skin, his lips lingering on your collarbone. "I cant believe I went two weeks without that" he murmured, his voice breaking slightly as if overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment. "I love making love with you"

He held you tightly, his arms wrapping around you as if afraid to let go. His warmth surrounded you, grounding you as the aftershocks of your shared passion rippled through your body. He kissed your shoulder, then your jaw, before resting his forehead against yours.

"I love you" he said, his voice barely above a whisper, but the weight of his words carried infinite depth. "You'll never understand how much."

Tears pricked at your eyes again, but this time they were tears of gratitude, of love so profound it couldn't be contained. "I love you too" you replied, pressing your lips softly to his. He smiled against your mouth, his kiss deepening once more, sweetly, as though savoring every second of the moment you shared.

His hands roamed over your back, broad palms leaving trails of warmth as they moved with quiet reverence. He loved holding you like this, keeping you close, feeling the way you fit so perfectly against him, as if your bodies were made for each other. You sighed softly, nuzzling against the crook of his neck, your fingers curling against his chest. He stayed there, still buried deep inside you, as though reluctant to let go of this perfect union.

The warmth of his body pressed against yours, the sound of his soft breathing brushing your ear, and the soothing way his hands caressed your back all worked to lull you into a state of blissful peace. You wanted to stay in this moment forever, cradled in his love, completely safe, completely his. Minutes stretched into what felt like eternity before he moved. With infinite care, he carefullly pulled out, his lips grazing yours in a lingering kiss, as if reluctant to part from you in even the smallest way.

Rolling onto his back, he brought you with him, his strong arms wrapping around you and anchoring you securely against his side. Nestled against him, you rested your head on his chest, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat a calming balm to your still-racing thoughts. zzling closer, realizing that moments like these were more than just physical; they were a testament to the vulnerability and trust you both shared.

It was in the gentle way he held you and the unspoken promises exchanged through touch that you found true intimacy. This closeness, this openness, was the foundation of the deep bond you had built together, a haven where both your hearts found solace. You traced lazy patterns on his skin with your fingertips, your touch light and aimless, marveling at the contrast between the passionate man who had undone you completely and the tender lover who now held you as if you were the most precious thing in his world.

"Goodnight Levi"

He nuzzled the top of your head, inhaling your familiar scent that always calmed him. "Goodnight baby" he replied, his voice soft and full of longing. His hand moved in soothing circles along your back until your body finally surrendered to sleep, completely relaxed against him. He stayed awake for a little while longer, watching you, memorizing the way your features softened in the quiet vulnerability of sleep. When sleep finally claimed him, his dreams were filled with you—your laughter, your touch, your love—each moment a reminder of how blessed he was to have you.

As morning light crept through the curtains, he stirred, the soft golden glow spilling across the room. Blinking sleep from his eyes, he turned his head, his lips curling into a smile at the sight of you still curled against him, your face serene and bathed in the gentle morning light. Careful not to wake you, he brushed a strand of hair from your forehead, marveling at the sheer beauty of you, so peaceful and vulnerable in his arms. He leaned down to press a featherlight kiss to your forehead, lingering there for a moment, his heart swelling with love. In these quiet moments, he didn't need words or grand gestures. Holding you was enough—simply being with you, sharing the same air, the same love, the same life.