If a man tortured by his nightmares is crying and no one is around to hear him, does he actually make a sound?
For months, the answer to that question was no.
No one knew about the way Bucky thrashed around like a madman in his sleep. They had no clue that the blankets that covered him became a cage that he couldn’t escape every night. They didn’t realize that his mind was exactly the same.
They didn’t know that he woke up with tears in his eyes that he didn’t remember shedding. They failed to hear him shout for the help that wasn’t coming. They were unaware that the first thing he did when he woke up was jump out of bed and search his surroundings, looking for the evil monster that lurked in his dreams. They were never there to watch the light leave his azure eyes when he looked in the mirror and realized that the monster he was running from was himself.
The quiet noise of the television washes over the bedroom,
settling me into a simmering warmth. My bouts of laughter are hard to quiet,
but I do the best I can to keep from waking up the sleeping man to my right. I
let my eyes drift over to Finn’s soundly sleeping form; his breathing is steady,
and his chest rises, then falls in a lulled cadence. An indistinct grin makes
its way onto my lips at the sight of him and how soft he looks in the light. I
am sleep laden, but still far more wide-awake than usual for this time of
Summary: Dan has rosacea, a medical condition causing his cheeks to appear red and flushed, and he’s meeting Phil for the first time. The genre is mostly fluff but there’s a couple of self deprecating thoughts
A/N: this was fun to write because i have (very mild) rosacea but unlike dan in this story i don’t really mind it lol
A fluffy little drabble. I’m not going to pretend this isn’t totally sappy.
The fall air was cool as you gazed out over the valley –
absentmindedly noting the glint of sun reflecting off a car winding its way
through the gully. Sitting down on the porch stair, you flipped through your
phone, hoping for a message from Cas – disappointed, as with each time you checked,
to find nothing. He’d been radio silent for months - ever since you broke his
heart. It was just after a hunt, one that nearly cost you your life - it was
the moment you decided to get out of the game for good. Cas caught you by
surprise as you packed your few belongings from the bunker, confessing his love
for you, imploring you to stay, promising to watch over you. In truth, you
loved him too, but you also wanted something normal - a life and a family you
knew you couldn’t have with the angel. You told him as much. Closing your eyes,
you could still perceive the hurt in his blue eyes as he averted them from you,
the clamminess of your hand when he dropped it from his warm grasp, the
rejection in his tone, the last words he uttered to you before vanishing, simply,
“I understand.” Shuddering, you hugged your arms to your chest, willing away
the coldness of the memory. You stood, taking in the empty porch, the absolute
quiet of the property stretching out in all directions, “So much for the normal
life.” The rumble of a car on the long stone drive suddenly broke through the
silence. Shielding your eyes from the setting sun as you walked down toward the
drive, you wondered if Sam and Dean were finally making good on their promise
to drop by. Unexpectedly, you were greeted by the familiar outline of Cas’
“Hello Y/N,” he nodded with a small smile, “It’s good to see
“Cas!” You bounded forward, engulfing him in your arms, “I
“As did I you,” he returned your embrace, fidgeting uncertainly
in your grasp, “I’m sorry for my absence, but there was much to do before…I
“Are you okay?” You leaned back, holding him by the
shoulders, searching his eyes – it wasn’t like the angel to stumble for words,
“Yes,” his blue eyes were open wide, nervous, meeting your
questioning gaze. Fumbling in his pocket, he proffered you a small trinket box.
With a curious smile, you accepted it, opening the top to
discover a ring - the center stone emitting brilliant azure light from within,
band encircled by ebony wings - the breath hitched in your throat.
“My grace,” his voice no more than a gravelly whisper, eyes fixed
on yours, studying your reaction, “it’s yours.”
You delicately brushed a finger over the stone. Shaking your
head, speechless, you stared back at him, disbelieving.
Emboldened by your silence, he went on, “As it turns out, in
all of creation an angel has the unique distinction of being able to fall both
figuratively and literally in love,” he paused, taking a deep breath, “I fell
Eyes beginning to well over with tears, you snapped the box
closed, thrusting it back into his chest, “I understand.”
“Oh,” his gaze dropped, sullen, heart visibly sinking.
“Cas,” you gently caressed his chin to reassure him. Leaning
forward you pressed a tender kiss to his lips, moving to whisper in his ear, “when
a man gives a ring to the woman he loves, there is usually a question attached.
And my answer is yes.”
His face brightened, a wide smile spreading across his
features, crinkling into the corners of his eyes and nose, “Oh!”
You grinned as he slid the ring onto your finger – slipping
his hand around your waist and pulling you close, capturing your lips with his.
Requested by Anon. (This is so short I may do a series of these..?)
(not my gif)
You were leaving lunch and headed to your favorite place at school to relax. You turned the corner and walked down the hallway as the loudness of the crowd began to filter away, turning another corner you headed towards the end of the hall. It was silent, as usual, since no one came over in this area of the school. You had found this place one day when you had gotten tired of the bullying and annoyance of classmates, and since have hung out beneath the quiet stairwell with headphones on a regular basis. But today, something was off, you could tell as the sole of your shoes hit the linoleum flooring beneath it. Your footsteps were not the only resounding noise through the area. As you silently approached the small closet like space, you could hear a sound of distinct sobs. You turned the corner and spotted the new kid, his raven hair disheveled and his bright blue eyes wet from crying. There were obvious signs he had gotten into a full out fight, a slight hint of blood beneath his nose. When he arrived they stopped torturing you as much as they had before, using him as their main target now, fresh meat to tear up you supposed. He looked up at you, neither of you had spoken to each other yet, even though it was almost three weeks of his being here. You went and silently sat near him, both of your backs against the cold painted brick wall. “The hell do you want?” He stated bitterly in a braking voice, clearly not appreciating another’s presence at the moment. Not saying hi but still acknowledging his presence you unzipped your book bag. You pulled out a pouch of tissues as well as a candy bar you had been saving for a rainy day, and by the looks of it someone had definitely made his day horrid. You placed it beside him without a word, standing after quickly zipping up your bag once again. He looked like he was about to say something, but nothing left his mouth before you were gone, leaving him beneath the silent stairs. You strode down the hallway quickly, trying to conceal the rage that was slowly building up since you knew exactly who had done this. After a little while of searching the hallways, you found the guy you were looking for outside by one of the benches. He spotted you about to make some sort of quip, but before anything could roll off the tip of his tongue, you had him pinned to the school’s brick wall behind. “How miserable is your own life, that you get enjoyment out of beating up others? What gives you the right?!” You snarled, keeping from letting out your rage, the boy before you was Devin. A guy that had made your life at school a living hell for years until one day you finally stood up for yourself and punched back.
“Did you come here to defend your new boyfriend?” He scoffed and joked but you didn’t budge my grip at the collar of his shirt.
“Boyfriend or not it doesn’t matter, I’m here because I have basic morals you ass.” You replied, still keeping your calm. “Stop. Picking. On. Him.” Your tone was deadly, soft spoken yet meaningfully harsh.
“So what if I do? What does it have to do with you (y/n)?” He said as you slowly released your grip.
“I will beat your ass like I have before. And this time I won’t go fucking easy.” You sharply retorted this as he finally seemed to flinch at the remembrance of your past meeting.
“Fine.” He muttered though you knew it was insincere, he was going to return to his old habits soon. You just wished you knew what actually happened to the new kid, he must hate it here at this school if that’s his first impression.
It was once again after lunch and you headed to your quiet spot, one of the girls had been completely rude to you today and all you wanted was to submerse yourself in music. To your disbelief someone was actually in the piano practice room, which never happened, this caused you to fall into an even more bitter mood. Your footsteps resonated on the linoleum flooring once more, as you headed to the darker and even more deathly silent corner. You stopped instantaneously when you hear something for a moment from the spot, damn did this guy really decide to take over my hang out? You were not happy to say the least, but you decided you would make a point by going and taking a seat even if needing to dismiss his presence. With a sigh you walked over, bending down and taking a seat. You didn’t look up as you pulled your headphones from your backpack until you felt someone’s intense gaze on you. You looked up, finally taking in his full appearance. He had a lip piercing, his dark hair bringing out his light azure eyes, and he wore dark jeans with black shoes.
“Thank you, for yesterday.” He said softly in a deep voice, breaking the silence you had been attempting to maintain between you both.
“It’s nothing.” You replied with a small smile, after doing so you slipped on your headphones, he looked at you. And stared at you. You pulled off your headphones slightly irritated by this, you didn’t have the energy to keep up appearances at the moment. “Hmm?” You looked to him with a raised eyebrow, he shifted slightly and snapped out of his gaze.
“Sorry…I uh…I’m Andy.” The young man before you grinned slightly embarrassed, you returned his smile.
“(Y/n).” You realized as you had replied that this meant you were now engaged in socializing. You put your headphones away and looked to him once more after sitting more comfortably.
“Have you attended this school for long?” Andy asked you as he awkwardly scratched the back of his neck and you nodded. Well at least you weren’t the only shy one here.
“Just a few years.” You replied with a shrug, “Where are you from?”
“Cincinnati.” He replied with a warm smile. He seemed really nice and now you knew why he was such a target. People like you and him, interested in different things than the masses of the school, not wanting to be involved with petty gossip, these were things that they used as tools to bully you both. You felt kind of bad for him and decided that maybe you should ease up and be there for him, no one was ever really there for you when you first arrived. No one was ever there to help you fight your battles, so maybe you could make his life a little easier by doing so for him.
“Well if you’d like I can show you around a bit, if you ever need help.” You told him with a kind smile, he grinned back.
“I’d like that.” He replied eagerly, luckily the bell rang in time to stop the followed awkward silence and you dashed off to your next class.
Here you both sat as per usual at lunch, for the past few days you both had been getting to know each other and soon enough you realized that your friendship was what made you enjoy school. School had always been a blessing and a curse for you; it brought you escape from a difficult household yet brought you hell in the form of bullying. Though this guy, Andy, was beginning to challenge your views of the people and place around you. That was definitely something you greatly appreciated.
“(Y/n), you busy after school?” Andy asked nonchalantly while messing with the food before him. You shook your head with a small smile and reply.
“Nah, why?” He looked back to you with a grin that almost seemed it could transition into a smirk.
“Can I take up your offer to show me around? I’d like to walk around downtown a bit.” He stated as the cafeteria began to filter out, you nodded.
“Sure, let’s meet by the door on the outer hall after class?” You motioned your head in said direction kind of uselessly. Andy let out a chuckle as you both stood up to head to class.
“See you then (y/n).” He did a partial wave to you with a bright smile before taking off into the mob of students.
she, who faces danger with a grin, and regards the blonde with a smilier smile. intrigue lighting azure eyes as a plump bottom lip is pulled between pearly teeth. her tone of voice easy, leaving room for easy refusal. ❛ i’ve heard much about you ––– – we will have to spar sometime. ❜ an offer, but diana is always determined to get what she wants. so she also challenges. ❛ …unless you don’t think you could take me ? ❜
what about the smut request where Grizi is jealous as fuck ? :)
sorry i was super busy yesterday; uni, work, etc. hope u like it 😌💜
(also i haven’t proof-read bc it’s past 1 am in the morning and i have to get up at 6, but i wanted to post this today. so sorry if there are any mistakes, i’ll check later.)
Antoine turns the key, switching off his Maserati’s ignition, before he leans his back against the backrest of the car seat and exhales heavily. He’s wearing a plain white T-shirt which hugs his toned torso in the nicest way possible, showing off his tattoos and enhancing his light azure eyes. Due to the fact that he’d run his fingers through his hair approximately four hundred times on your way to your friend’s house, it now looks a little messier than usual. That doesn’t mean that he’s any less attractive now, though. If anything, he looks even more enticing.
Especially now that he has got his gaze fixed on you, the city lights of your hometown twinkling behind him. God, he’s gorgeous.
“You okay?” you ask, reaching over to intertwine your fingers with his so much longer ones. Antoine’s eyes flicker down at your hands before he looks back up at you, a grin pulling at the corners of his pink lips and one of his eyebrows raised.
“You’re wearing a sundress,” he replies, “Of course I’m okay.”
It’s unusually warm for a summer night in England, so you’d figured you would wear your new sundress for the first time today; Antoine liking it so much is just a very welcome Brownie point.
It is the first time you are introducing Antoine to your best friends who have — even after you’d moved to Madrid to live with him almost a year ago — still stayed in close contact with you. Thank God for that, because you’re pretty sure you wouldn’t survive being a footballer’s girlfriend without them to remind you of home.
You’re not one of those WAGs — you know, the ones who are after the money, after the fame, et cetera. It’s not like you know a lot of them, but they do definitely exist. However, it’s hard not to enjoy the luxury this life comes with; living in a nice house in Madrid, where the sun always shines, going on cool vacations and all that stuff.
The fact that you get to experience all these things with Antoine … well, you’re lucky. Really lucky.
“Charming as always,” you remark, smiling at him.
Antoine lets go of your hand, then claps both of his together once. “All right. Allez, allez.”
You’re not sure if he’s nervous or not but he does get out of the car with the grin still on his face. Hand in hand, you walk up the front door. Your best friend Alessia is quick to pull the it open, not even giving you a chance to ring the bell.
Immediately, you’re being pulled into a tight hug. Antoine lets go of your hand and steps aside but out of the corner you see him looking at the two of you with a small smile stretching his lips.
“Oh my God!” Alessia exclaims while she tightens her embrace around you once more, making you feel like she’s crushing your ribs. “I’ve missed you so much!” Her silvery voice is unpleasantly loud now that her mouth is so close to your ear but you can’t help but laugh anyway. Obviously — you’ve missed her just as much.
“I’ve missed you, too,” you say, beaming at her when she lets go of you eventually.
Alessia’s still beaming with joy as she turns around to look at Antoine, who is smiling politely. He does look a bit intimidated though — but then again, who wouldn’t be? Alessia is loud. She’s loud in the way she talks and laughs, and even in the way she looks and moves. For a person her size, she is just a lot to take in. In the most positive way, of course; she’s gorgeous, extroverted and fun.
“You must be Antoine, then,” she says, curling her manicured fingers around his hand, which he had held out for her to shake, “I’ve heard so much about you.”
Antoine grins. “Nice to meet you, Alessia. I’ve heard quite a few stories as well.”
“Knowing Y/N, probably only the worst of them, huh?” Jokingly, she rolls her eyes. It earns her one of Antoine’s cutest chuckles. He’s really trying. Honestly, he probably wouldn’t even have to; Alessia looks about as crazy about him as possible. No surprise there, given your boyfriend’s ability to charm everybody’s pants off in a minute. “Come on in. Or, as Antoine would probably say: entrez! Is that right?”
Antoine laughs. “Oui.”
“Ugh, French is so hot. I bet Y/N goes all crazy about it in the bedroom, doesn’t she?”
You shoot Alessia a look, shaking your head. It’s no big deal talking about sex, of course — you’re all adults — but she doesn’t know Antoine yet, and the last thing you want is for him to feel swamped. You know that there’s no need for you to look after him but what you also know is that Antoine is way too polite to tell Alessia if she’s going too far.
But Alessia doesn’t even pay attention to you; instead, she’s closely watching Antoine’s reaction. Which is, surprisingly, a wink. Well, not ‘surprisingly’ for you — you’re all too familiar with his antics. It’s surprising for Alessia though, who had obviously expected a different reaction. At least if her cocked eyebrows and parted lips are anything to go by.
You smile at Antoine.
It doesn’t take long for your other friends to come to the door to greet you, but it does take a while until they’re done greeting you. And then it takes another while until they’re done greeting Antoine. But it’s fine, of course. And it’s even better when you see the way Antoine already jokes with your friends by the time you’ve all gathered around the table, eating homemade pizza and drinking red wine and beer. (The wine doesn’t taste nearly as good as the French one Antoine always brings back to Spain after visiting his family in Mâcon.)
Chase, one of your best friends, stands up from his chair. “Anyone else want another slice of pizza?”
“Me, please,” you say, looking down at your already empty plate. You’ve always been a fast eater and it’s only gotten worse now that you’re with Antoine because if you ate slowly, all the food would end up in his stomach. Seriously, he’s a pig sometimes. May have something to do with the fact that when he’s out with his teammates, they all eat like they haven’t been fed in over a decade.
“No surprise there,” Chase laughs as he walks towards the kitchen. When he walks back in, he leans over you to place the slice on your plate, kissing your cheek. You tense. What was that? “Good to have you here.”
You look over at Antoine, half expecting him to have his eyebrows raised at Chase or glancing at you questioningly, but he seems to be engrossed in conversation.
Chase goes back to sit on his chair but you catch him staring at you every now and then. And every time you do catch him, he grins or smirks or winks at you. It’s irritating, really, because you have no idea why he’s doing it.
Until you feel Antoine’s fingers intertwining with yours on top of the table.
Until you hear Chase’s voice again, “Hey Antoine, mate. I heard you lost in the Champions League final against Real, right? “
Next to you, Antoine tenses up just slightly. If you didn’t know him you probably wouldn’t even have noticed the strained line in his shoulders.
“Yes. But it’s fine.”
Chase shrugs. “Really? Like, doesn’t it suck to be in the poorer Madrid team?”
You’re so shocked that for a second, you can’t react at all. Everybody else falls silent as well, looking from Antoine to Chase and back again. What the hell? Heat runs through your veins and creeps up your neck. Honestly, you’re absolutely embarrassed. Why would Chase say stuff like that?
Antoine seems a lot more serene. He merely shrugs and turns your still linked hands around so that his hand is on top of yours, lightly rubbing his thumb across your burning skin. “Not really. I’m happy at Atlético.”
“Hm,” Chase mumbles, makes a face. Antoine tilts his head as he waits for him to go on. You lift your free hand to curl your fingers around Antoine’s underarm, tracing the outlines of his tattoos and hoping that he stays calm. He does. “I’m just saying, man. It’s got to be hard to play second fiddle to Messi and Ronaldo all the time. Or, third fiddle. I don’t know.”
Alessia shoots you a look, her neatly plugged eyebrows pulled together in confusion. You can only shrug because, really, you have no idea what’s going on, or why Chase is acting like a total dick.
“I’m happy,” Antoine says nonchalantly before he turns his head to grin at you. You would’ve smiled back if you weren’t as distracted by the lack of the usual glistening in his eyes, or the fact that his smile doesn’t reach his eyes in the first place. He’s pissed, even if he doesn’t show it.
For the rest of the evening, Chase — thankfully — shuts up. Well, he doesn’t let out any more sneaky remarks, at least. Antoine continues to play it all cool, joking with your friends and even shaking Chase’s hand once you’re saying goodbye. He’d given Chase a dismissive smile, which had quickly disappeared as soon as he’d caught sight of him hugging you tight, Chase’s hands dangerously low on the small of your back.
Driving back to your childhood home is no fun because 1) Antoine is still pissed, and 2) a pissed Antoine is a fast-driving Antoine. Not recklessly fast, of course, but fast.
He maneuvers the car through the traffic confidently and with both hands on the steering wheel. Which is a good thing, obviously. You do want to get home safely. However, it makes your stomach churn because usually, one of Antoine’s hands is resting on your thigh — at least once.
On this ride, he barely even looks at you.
“I’m sorry about Chase,” is the first thing you dare to say when you’re in your room. It’s smaller than the one you’re sharing with Antoine in Madrid, and while it’s still nice, it lacks the floor-lenght windows and the balcony to be as cozy.
“Not your fault,” Antoine replies. Huh. Okay. That’s a short answer.
You sit down on the edge of the bed and watch as he first takes off his shirt, revealing his lean, muscular torso to you, then his jeans. Antoine returns your look while he throws his phone on to the mattress carelessly, biting the inside of his cheek like he’s lost in thought, brooding over something.
His eyes are cloudy when somewhen, he speaks up again, “Is he your ex?”
“What?” You’re so taken by surprise that you almost let out a laugh. “Chase? No. God, no.”
Antoine doesn’t look convinced. With a shrug, he turns his back on you to fold his clothes. Something he never does. Ever. He’s not tidy. Apparently, he’s not in the mood to talk to you but that doesn’t keep you from adding, “Why would you think that?”
Antoine runs his fingers through his blonde hair, ruffling it. Then, his shoulders slouch. “I just— the way he looks at you.”
“What kind of an explanation is that?” you ask, rolling your eyes.
“He looks at you like he wants you.”
Yes, you had noticed that Chase’s eyes had landed on you more frequently than normal. But had he looked at you the way Antoine had understood it? Honestly, you don’t know.
A couple years ago, Alessia had told you that she thought Chase might have had a crush on you. But that was years ago. Nobody has a crush that lasts this long.
“I don’t know. But he’s not my ex.”
Antoine gives you a level look. “Yeah, but he’s something, isn’t he?”
“No, Antoine. He’s a friend of mine, that’s it. I don’t know about his feelings, but for me he’s never been anything more than someone I can have fun with.”
He fixates his gaze on you, prominent eyebrows furrowed and pink lips pressed together in a tight line. You can see his muscles flex, like he’s thinking about coming closer to you or continuing to stand a few feet away.
Suddenly, something about his pose changes.
It’s like someone has flipped a switch as Antoine walks over to where you’re sitting, leaning down to hook his fingers around the backs of your knees and pulls you closer to the edge of your bed.
You don’t understand what he’s doing at first, looking at him in puzzlement until he’s pushing your legs apart and sinking to his knees between them.
He glances up at you through his lashes, the blue of his eyes twinkling and sending heatwaves through your body. Mainly, your lower body parts.
His fingers curl around the hem of your sundress, its tips teasingly sliding along your warm skin. When he pushes his hands up your thighs, the light fabric — which is trapped between his hands and your skin — moves up with them.
Antoine sighs at the sight of your panties.
“Up,” he says, voice soft and husky. God. You lift your butt off the mattress, allowing him to pull your underwear down your legs and then watching him throw it somewhere behind him. He lets his hand rest at one of your ankles, holding your leg up on eye level and begins to kiss his way up from your ankle to your inner thigh. It’s gentle kisses he presses to your soft skin, but you can feel the tip of his tongue every now and then, making your insides churn in the nicest way possible.
You’re so worked up by the time his mouth has reached your thigh that you’re almost trembling already. It’s a little embarrassing, really, but then you remember the times Antoine had come after about five minutes. He’d laughed it off though, finishing you off in another way.
One of Antoine’s arms snakes around the small of your back, pulling you closer to his face, while with his other arm he reaches behind him to grab your ankle and lift your right leg over his shoulder. He pushes against your left leg with his elbow gently, spreading your legs a little more.
Antoine takes his time. He plants soft kisses to the skin where — if you were still wearing your panties — the hemline would be, sticking out his tongue every once in a while to let it travel closer to your core, before going back to the more innocent kisses again.
It’s driving you insane, him being so close to you, feeling the strands of his blonde hair tickle you, his hot breath against you. Your pelvis trembles, almost jolting upwards but Antoine’s grip around you is too strong. Still, you can feel his cheeks move when he starts smiling.
And then, finally, his mouth is on you; hot and wet, and just how he knows you like it. He kisses you between your lips, his tongue darting out to trail the line of your clit repeatedly. It’s good, it’s so, so, so good, that you’re falling backwards, your back hitting the sheets but you reach out to run your fingers through his soft hair, pulling at the ends carefully. Antoine hums against you in response, sending vibrations through your core and a shiver down your spine.
His kisses become sloppier when your legs begin to shake slightly, the feeling of his tongue dipping inside of you bringing you closer to the edge. There’s a warm, heavy feeling spreading in the pit of your stomach before it rolls through your body, causing goosebumps to erupt on every inch of your skin.
Antoine’s fingers dig deeper into your thigh, his blunt nails probably leaving marks. You remove your hand from his hair, instead letting it rest against his sharp jawline, needing to feel the way his throat works as he kisses, sucks, licks you.
A moan falls from your lips, echoing in the otherwise silent room. Well, silent apart from your heavy breathing, the sound of Antoine’s mouth working against you, and the sheets rustling as you keep circling your hips to match Antoine’s rhythm.
“Oh god,” you whisper, your voice higher as usual. The muscles in your lower body region start to tense and relax again every second, there’s beads of sweat running down your chest, and you know you’re close.
You’re so, so close.
But then Antoine stops.
Completely out of breath, you look up at him and … fuck. His lips are red and plump, swollen from eating you out. His neck is glistening with a thin layer of sweat, his chest is heaving heavily as he’s probably just as breathless as you are, and there is a tinge of pink on his cheeks, just a light blush. His eyes are hooded with lust but there’s the familiar twinkling in them, sending your heart into overdrive.
It is too much. He is too much.
Automatically, your legs widen more. Antoine smiles.
He reaches down, his long fingers idly toying with the short strings of his boxers before he pulls them down. He’s so ready; his boner leaking pre-cum and looking painfully hard. You almost feel sad. Or, maybe you would had he let you come a moment ago.
But those thoughts are long forgotten once you see Antoine’s fingers curl around his length, pumping it once, twice, before he leans over you, supporting his body weight on his left underarm, right next to your head on the pillow.
“I love you,” you say in a voice that hardly sounds like your own.
“I love you, too,” Antoine replies, sounding a lot more composed. However, you know how good he is at acting. You’d seen it just a few hours ago at Alessia’s. Thank God Chase had been an asshole, you think as you look up at your boyfriend and watch his shoulders flex as he uses his free hand to stroke himself once more.
And then he kisses you, slow and filthy, with a lot of tongue, clashing of teeth, and short and heavy puffs of breath. It’s probably not pretty to look at, but it makes the muscles in Antoine’s abdomen ripple and it makes your heart pump boiling blood through your veins, and God, it is nice.
Antoine enters you in the exact same way he kisses you. There’s a groan coming from somewhere deep down in his throat once he’s filling you up completely, and you wrap your legs around his waist to have him as close as possible. He lets you get used to his size for a second, but now he’s the one who’s trembling and you wonder how long he’ll be able to last tonight.
Your back arches when he finally starts to move — after you’ve stopping kissing him and told him to go on, of course; he always waits for your ‘okay’. He groans, drops his head into the nape of your neck, and gently sinks his teeth into your skin there before he presses sloppy kisses to it over and over again.
You let your hands travel down his back, feeling the muscles move whenever he does, whenever his hips meet yours and he goes just a little deeper, and hits your G-spot.
“Fuck,” he whispers, voice muffled by the pillow and your neck.
You feel like he’s fucking every thought out of your brain, leaving you a quivering, moaning mess underneath his firm body. You see stars and colors and him, him everywhere around you. He’s all that you smell, too, all that you feel, all that you hear. It’s like you’re becoming one for a moment, as your eyes roll backwards and Antoine’s movements get increasingly faster, more frantic.
And then all you see is white and there’s heat all over your body, embracing you and not letting you go for what feels like an eternity, but still it’s over too soon.
Antoine comes shortly after you. His body is still tense when he does but his biceps are trembling due to the effort and his skin is glistening with sweat.
He’s so beautiful.
“I love you,” you say again, just because you think he should hear it once more.