Louder Than Gunfire[Maestro (Adriano Martello) x Reader] pt3
Genre/Word count: slow-burn/3.6k
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Chapter 11 - After the Storm
By the time the mission ended and the squad returned to base the adrenaline had mostly burned off, leaving behind that strange, heavy quiet that followed intense operations. Gear clattered into lockers, radios were powered down, and operators drifted away in small groups toward showers or the kitchen.
You slipped out before anyone could start asking questions.
Not because you had anything to hide.
Definitely not because every time you looked across the room you caught Maestro already looking at you.
Your boots carried you toward the observation deck on the far side of the base, a place most people ignored this late at night. The lights were dim, the wide windows looking out over the dark landscape beyond the facility.
You leaned your forearms against the railing and exhaled slowly, letting the cool air settle the leftover tension in your shoulders.
The door behind you opened a minute later.
You didn’t even turn around.
“You follow everyone after missions?” you said.
“Only the ones who run away.”
You glanced over your shoulder as Maestro stepped onto the deck. He’d ditched most of his sleeve, rolled up, hair slightly mussed like he’d run a hand through it too many times.
“You’re assuming I ran.” you said.
“You disappeared suspiciously fast.”
He walked closer, slow and unrushed, stopping beside you at the railing. The space between you was comfortable this time, not quite touching but close enough that you could feel his presence.
Neither of you spoke for a moment.
The silence wasn’t awkward.
Finally, Maestro rested his arms on the railing besides yours. “You handled yourself well today.”
You huffed softly. “That's the nicest thing you’ve said all week”
“I have said plenty of nice things.”
“It needed improvements~”
You nudged his shoulder lightly with yours. “You’re unbelievable.”
He chuckled quietly, then the mood shifted again.
Just slowly, like the air between you had decided to lean in closer.
“You’ve been quiet,” he said.
You stared out through the glass. “Just thinking.”
Maestro turned slightly toward you, studying your expression with that careful attention he had when he wasn't hiding behind those jokes.
For once, he didn’t make some teasing comment.
Your fingers drummed lightly against the railing. “That was… unexpected.”
“You did not seem to hate it.”
Heat flickered across your face. “You’re very confident about that.”
You rolled your eyes, but the corners of your mouth betrayed you.
A light breeze slipped through the slightly open window panels, brushing loose hair across your face. Without thinking, Maestro reached over and gently tucked the strand behind your ear.
Your breath caught slightly at the contact.
Neither of you moved away.
“You’re staring again bella.” he murmured.
You grounded softly. “You’re never letting that go, are you?”
Your head tilted slightly as you studied him now, really looking this time. “You know,” you said, “for someone who spent weeks pretending to hate me…”
Maestro lifted an eyebrow. “Pretending?”
“...you kiss pretty confidently.’
That earned a soft chuckle.
“I did not hate you,” he said.
“You called me a walking problem.”
“And yet you followed me out here.”
He leaned a little closer now, his voice slightly dropping.
“Dangerous preference to have.”
The space between you closed almost without either of you consciously deciding to move. This kiss was slower than the one in the hallway. Not fueled by adrenaline or chaos.
His hand rested slightly against your arm, thumb brushing against your sleeve as your lips met.
The outside world stayed quiet.
Just the soft hum of the base and the steady rhythm of breathing when you finally pulled apart again.
You rested your forehead briefly against his shoulder, shaking your head.
“This is a terrible idea.”
“You glanced up at him. “You don’t sound too concerned.”
You laughed softly under your breath.
For the first time since you’d joined the team, the rivalry between you didn’t feel like a wall.
It felt like something else entirely.
Something dangerous in a completely different way.
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The squad had claimed the rec room after a long mission; a rare moment of downtime. Operators lounged on couches, some scrolling through tablets, others leaning over the table playing cards, the low hum of conversation and laughter filling the air. You were sitting near the far side, stretching your shoulders and quietly sipping a protein shake, enjoying the brief peace, when someone slid onto the seat next to you with an exaggerated grin.
“Hey, so I saw you handling that intel breach yesterday.” Twitch said, her tone teasing as she nudged your shoulder lightly. “Not bad for someone who’s always pretending to be all serious.”
You smirked, returning the nudge. “Careful, I’m serious when it counts.”
“Ohhh, I know,” she said, leaning just a little closer, her bright eyes scanning your face. “But I also know you have a… competitive streak.” She tilted her head, teasing.”Ever think about letting someone else win for once?”
You laughed softly, shrugging, your pulse slightly kicking up. “I don’t play to lose.”
She leaned back, crossing her arms. “Hmmm… maybe I should challenge that.”
Before you could respond, the corner of your eye caught his; Maestro standing in the doorway, leaning against the frame. One eyebrow lifted, dark eyes fixed on the two of you. His presence made the room feel smaller, and the air heavier.
“Bella,” he said, just loud enough for you to hear. His tone had that subtle edge, the one that said I see exactly what's going on.
You glanced back at Twitch, who gave you a cheeky wink. “Go ahead,” she whispered playfully. “I won’t bite.”
“Right,” you muttered, gripping your cup tighter.
Maestro took a slow step toward you, the light hu of the rec room seems to fade fase. “You shouldn’t let her get to you.” he said softly, voice low, almost dangerous in its calmness.
You swallowed, trying to stay calm. “I’m fine.”
“You’re not,” he replied.
Twitch noticed, tilting her head with a teasing smirk. “Wowww, you’ve got an admirer.” she, glancing between you and him, clearly enjoying the effect.
That was all it took. Maestro’s jaw clenched almost imperceptibly, and his hand brushed against yours, a light touch, enough to make the air between you crackle.
“Excuse me.” he murmured, voice soft but firm, before gesturing toward the hallway. “Come with me.”
You hesitated for a moment, catching Twitch’s playful grin one last time, then followed him out of the rec room, leaving her behind, smirking. The door closed softly, and the quiet of the corridor wrapped up the two of you.
No teasing, no jokes. Just the tension, close proximity, lingering in the air like a storm waiting to break.
Maestro glanced at you once, expression unreadable. “We need to talk,” he said.
You nodded, feeling your pulse quicken. The burn between you had just turned up another notch.
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Chapter 13 - Jealous confessions pt1
The hallway outside the rec room was quiet.
The door clicked shut behind you, muffling the distant laughter and chatter from inside. For a moment neither of you spoke. Maestro walked a few steps ahead before stopping near the end of the corridor, turning to face you.
You crossed your arm. “Well that was dramatic.”
His eyebrow lifted slightly. “Was it?”
“Yes!” you said. “You dragged me out of a room.”
“I asked you to come with me.”
“You did it like a man issuing orders.”
You huffed a laugh despite yourself. “You’re unbelievable.”
But the amusement faded when you noticed the way he was looking at you. Not teasing. Not smug.
“Do you enjoy provoking me?” he asked,
“In there,” he said, nodding his head toward the rec room. “With Twitch.”
Realization dawned slowly. You tilted your head.
Maestro scoffed quietly, but the clench in his jaw betrayed him. “I am observant.”
“You're jealous,” you repeated, a grin creeping across your face.
“You dragged me out of the room.”
His gaze darkened ever so slightly.
You leaned against the wall behind you, folding your arms. “Maybe.”
The distance between you shrank by half.
“You let her flirt with you.”
You raised an eyebrow. “You flirt with me all the time-”
He stopped right in front of you, close enough that you could feel the warmth radiating off of him.
“Because,” he said, his voice getting softer, “I mean it.”
The teasing grin faded from your lips, replaced by something softer.
“You mean it.” you repeated.
The hallway suddenly felt much smaller.
You could hear the faint hum of building systems, the distant voices from the rec room, but everything else faded beneath the weight of the moment.
“You’re still jealous though,” you murmured.
You pushed off the wall, stepping closer until there was barely any space left between you.
Maestro blinked once, clearly not expecting that response.
Your hand reached up, lightly gripping the front of his shirt.
“I like knowing you care.”
His hand moved instinctively to your waist, warm and steady.
“You are trouble,” he murmured.
His thumb brushed lightly against your side, slow, sending a shiver up your spine.
“You should not encourage me,” he said quietly.
“You should stop pretending you don’t like it.”
For a moment you just looked at each other.
Then he leaned down and kissed you.
This time it wasn’t the short, surprise kiss from the mission. It was slower, deeper, built from weeks of stolen glances finally catching up.
You hand tightened around his shirt as you kissed him back, pulling him closer.
He let out soft groans against your lips, one hand sliding from your waist to your butt, drawing you flush against him.
The contact sent a hot rush through you.
When you finally broke the kiss, It was only long enough to breathe.
“You’re still jealous~” you whispered.
He let out a soft laugh against your forehead.
His fingers brushed along your jaw before he kissed you again, this time softer.
But the tension shifted, your interactions were melting into something warmer… something far more dangerous.
When you finally stepped away, your pulse was racing
“We should head back to the rec room,” you said.
Maestro studied you for a moment.
“I could walk you to your room instead.”
“That sounds like a bad idea.”
Neither of you moved for a moment.
You took a small step backwards, toward the corridor leading to the dorms.
He watched you go, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
But the way he looked at you made it clear.
This conversation was nowhere near over.
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Chapter 14 - Midnight Visits pt2
Door clicks shut at 1:25 am.
Maestro’s already inside, arms crossed, smirking like he owns the room.
“Took you long enough, bella. I thought you’d chicken out.”
You lock the bolt. “I don’t chicken out. I was making sure no one saw your dramatic ass trying to sneak in.”
He pushes off the wall, closing the distance. “Admit it. You were nervous.”
“About who? You? Please.” You tilt your chin up. “I just don’t want the whole base hearing your ego when I kick you out.”
“His laugh was low,”You won’t kick me out.” He stops an inch away. “Not tonight~”
Heat rolls off him. You feel your pulse skipping.
“Still jealous of Twitch?” you tease.
His eyes narrow, playfully. “You enjoyed that little show, didn’t you?”
“Maybe.” You shrug your shoulders. “She’s cute when she flirts.”
He pins you against the door, one hand braced beside your head. “And I’m what? Chopped liver?”
“You’re loud, Possessive. Annoying-”
His free hand slides to your hip, thumb pressing just hard enough. “And you like it.”
Your breath catches. “Prove it.”
He leans in, lips grazing your ear. “I’ve spent weeks picturing this. You. This bed. Me making you forget every other name but mine.”
You swallow. “You’re talking big.”
His mouth drags along your jaw. “Big everything, bella.”
A shiver trails up your spine. “Cocky.”
“Accurate.” He nips your earlobe. “Turn around.”
You listen, slow and deliberate, making him wait.
His chest presses against your back. One arm bands your waist. The other hand rests on your throat–not gripping, just resting.
“Look at the mirror,” he says.
Your eyes catch your reflection: cheeks warmed with a deep blush, parted lips, his head bent over your shoulder.
“See how pretty you are when you’re trying not to beg?”
“Shhh.” His lips drag along your neck. Mouth opened. Hot. No teeth. “Not yet.”
His hand slips under the hem of your shirt. Palm against bare skin. He doesn’t move upward. Just spreading his fingers, slowly claiming you inch by inch.
Your head tips back against his shoulder.
“Good girl~” he breathes. “Stay just like that.”
The words hit low. Your thighs pressed together instinctively.
He notices. Of course he does.
“You’re already so wet for me?”
You don’t answer. Don’t need to. His chuckle is like velvet against your throat.
His hand finally travels up, torturously slow–until his thumb brushes the underside of your breast. Circles. Never touching where you want.
Anywhere. Everywhere. You can’t think enough to be specific.
His thumb grazes your nipple, soft and fleeting. Your back arches slightly.
“There?” he teases, circling again, even softer. “Or…” His other hand slides down, fingers dipping under your waistband. Not inside. Resting. Warm. Threatening. “...here?”
He laughs quietly at your soft frustrated sounds.
“Patience.” He kisses the hinge of your jaw. “I’ve waited weeks. You can wait a few more minutes.”
His fingers finally slip beneath the fabric, a slow drag along your folds, collecting slick without pressing where you ache most.
“All this from me barely touching you?” he mutters, almost reverent.
He pulls his hand back instantly.
He turns you around, backs you against the door. Cages you with both arms beside your head.
His eyes are black, pupils blown.
He crashed down harder this time. Hungry. Tongue sliding against yours as if he’s claiming every corner. You match him, hands gripping his shirt, pulling him closer.
When he breaks away you’re both breathing heavily.
He rests his forehead against yours.
He follows, shedding his shirt as he goes, eyes never leaving you.
The mattress dips slightly under him.
He crawls over you, slow and predator like, and puns your wrist above your head with one hand.
“Keep them there,” he orders.
His free hand starts at your ankle. Sliding up torturously slow. He skips exactly where you want him to. Continues to your ribs. Your collarbone. Your jaw.
Everywhere except where you want it most.
“Patience,” he repeats, kissing the corner of your mouth. “I want to hear every sound you make before I give you what you're dying for.”
He drags his lips down your throat. Your chest. Pauses with his mouth hovering over one nipple.
The word leaves you instantly. “Please!”
He rewards you, a hot, wet mouth sucking slow and deep.
He switches sides. Same treatment. Same maddening pace.
He finally releases, leaving you trembling.
He kisses a line down your stomach. Lower. And lower.
Stopping right above your clit.
He holds your gaze, gives one long slow lick.
Your hips jerk. He pins them down with one forearm.
Teasing licks. Gentle suction. Never enough pressure. Never enough rhythm. Just enough to keep you from falling off the edge.
Minutes pass like torture.
When you're shaking, thighs trembling, voice broken on his name. He finally gives you what you need.
Two thick fingers slide inside. Curl. Press.
His mouth seals over your clit at the same time.
You come hard, a whine muffled into your arm.
He works you through it. Then builds you towards the next one. Slow. Deliberate. Merciless.
When he finally crawls back up, shiny lips, feral eyes, he kisses you so you can taste yourself on his tongue.
“Still think you can handle all this?” he whispered against your mouth.
You reach between you, palm sliding over the hard length pitching his pants.
A small, wicked smile tugs at your mouth.
“Better question.. Can you handle me?”
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Chapter 15 - Closed Doors pt3
… clothes hit the floor. Maestro’s eyes rake over your naked, trembling body, spread out on the bed like an offering. His cock stands hard and heavy, veins pulsing, tip glistening.
“Look at you~” he growls, kneeling between your legs. “So fucking eager. Spread wider.”
Yo do, thigh parting until they,” you whimper, hips lifting. “ ache. He smirks.
“Good girl, bella.” His hand wraps around his length, stroking slowly, teasing both of you. “How bad do you want it? Beg. Show me how much of a desperate slut you are.”
“Please,” you whimper, hips lifting. “Fuck me. Ruin me.”
He chuckles, low and filthy. “You’re so fucking pathetic. I love it”
He positions himself, rubbing the head along your folds up and down, circling your clit until you’re whining, clit still swollen and oversensitive from earlier.
“Already soaked from my mouth,” he mutters. “Greedy cunt.”
One brutal thrust, no warning. He bottoms out, stretching you wide. Pain and pleasure spikes; you cry out, digging your nails into his shoulders.
“Fuck… so tight” he grits, holding still for a second. “Made for my cock. Take every inch.”
He pulls back slowly, then slams in harder. Bed creaking. Skin sleeping. The rhythm builds relentless, and punishing.
His hand finds your throat, giving it a firm squeeze.Your vision blurs on the edges as euphoria starts flooding. He leans down, mouth crashing to yours, teeth nipping lip, tongue invading.
“Such a good whore,” he praises against your mouth. “Squeezing me like you never want me to leave.”
You clench deliberately; he groans, his thrusts faltering.
“Brat.” He tightens his grip, hips snapping faster. “Come for me. Soak my dick.”
Overstimulation finally hits-your body becomes a live wire. Your orgasm crashes fast, you arch, soaking the sheets, your vision spotting.
He doesn’t stop. Pounding through it, hand still on your throat. “Again. You better not hold back.”
Tears prick; it’s too much, your clit raw and throbbing. But you still chase, legs wrapping around his waist, pulling him deeper.
“You can. You will.” His free hand pinche your nipples and twists. “My perfect little fucktoy.”
A second wave starts building, coiling tight. He releases your throat; oxygen rushes in, heightening your senses. You scream his name as you break, convulsing and shuddering around him.
He slows his pace, sliding out before flipping you onto your stomach.”Ass up.”
You obey, weak limb. He spreads your cheeks, admiring the mess he made. “Look at this. Leaking my pre-cum already.”
His tongue dives in with no mercy. Sucks your clit from behind. Three fingers join, curling deep, hitting your g-spot while his mouth works you over,
“Shut up and take it.” A sharp slap to your ass, blooming heat. “You taste like sin. Come on my tongue again~”
You do, a third orgasm crashing, muffled into a pillow. Body shaking as your sobs escape.
He rises, wipes his mouth. “Now. Suck me clean, bella.”
You turn, knees on the mattress. Taking his length in hand, hot with slick. Your mouth envelopes him, tongue swirling, hollowing cheeks.
“Fuckk… yess,” he moans, fisting your hair. “Deepthroat it. Choke on it like the slut you are.”
You relax your throat as he pushes in, hitting the back. Your gag reflexes kick in; tears streaming down your face. He fucks your mouth slow and rough, balls slapping your chin.
“Good girl…” he chirped, “So messy. Drooling all over my cock.”
Pulling out abruptly. A string of saliva connecting. “On your back, legs over my shoulders.”
He folds you, slamming his cock into you at a deep angle, bullying your cervix. Thrust savage, making the bed frame bang against the wall.
“Choke yourself,” he orders. “Show me how much you need it.”
Your hand wraps your own throat, squeezing lightly, then harder. His eyes blaze.
“Filthy. All mine.” He rubs your clit, rolling it between his fingers. “One more. Give it to me, bella.”
Forming words was beyond your capabilities, your body protested as pleasure washes over. You tighten around him, he curses in Italian as his pace becomes erratic.
“come with me…,” you beg. “fill me… breed me…”
“Fuck… yes.” Deep final thrusts. He roars, he fills you up rope after rope.
Your fourth orgasm follows, violent, milking him dry.
He collapses beside you, sweaty, panting, both wrecked.
His arms pull you closer. Kissing your forehead. “My perfect little mess. All mine~”
Sleep claims you both, still tangle together, breathing slow.
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