#valentin x reader

Two years and this was the first Full Moon party you actually had the chance to go to. Not just for a couple of hours, not sober. You were actually going to be able to enjoy yourself. How Valentin had swindled a night off from the hotel for you both, you didn't bother to ask. But you appreciated it nonetheless.

The parties on the nearby beach weren't quite as big as others you'd heard about, but you were excited. Just a chance to escape the hotel, a chance to not have to pander to guests or be ordered around by managers. And, of course, a chance to be with Valentin.

The lights blinded you as you made your way down to the beach. Valentin was already there, based on his message, along with Alexei and Vlad. The music drowned out whatever the guy at the entry said, but as he pointed down to the party, you just nodded and continued on.

Valentin's eyes found you immediately, the flashing lights bouncing off the metallic stars that covered your body. And they barely covered it. You had really gone all out for tonight.

He put his hand up to wave, watching as you wound through the crowd to find him and the others. It wasn't long before you made it all the way over to him.

"You look…divine."

The music picked up in tempo. Thumping through the soles of your feet as Valentin held on to you tight. Hands taking a wandering path over your body, slipping under the spaced out stars that somehow made up your outfit.

You could see the neon paint that swirled over his bare forearms, some of it already smeared across your back and stomach as you danced.

More and more people seemed to fill the beach. The strobe lights and neon decoration adding to the dizzying haze that filled your head. You could hardly keep track of what was going on around you, even when Valentin's lips met your neck. The solid planes of his body pressed impossibly tight against you.

It was like this was the one place you could just be together. Not pretending you were just colleagues, both to guests and other staff. Tonight, Valentin was all yours.

And both of you had every intention of taking full advantage of that fact.

So you didn't resist when Valentin's hands did more than just wander. Everyone was far too distracted by the party to notice anything else. Slipping beneath your barely there waistband, letting his groan vibrate against your neck when he found only flimsy fabric hiding what he wanted.

"Just for me, hmm?" Valentin whispered, letting his teeth scrape against your skin.

You didn't get to answer as two fingers slipped beneath your underwear, finding their destination immediately. Head falling back against his shoulder as you gave into his touch. his face was buried against your neck, his free hand winding up and holding you upright.

But just as you felt your release creeping up, he stopped. Both hands back on your waist and spinning you to face him. A familiar, mischievous glint in his eyes.

“Be a good and do what I tell you.”

You couldn't help but let out a giggle as your back hit the wall, knowing its neon patterns were now smudged over your skin. Valentin's lips and hands were everywhere on your body, you could barely keep track. Your own hands tangled in his hair as he made his way down your body. There was a desperation to how he touched you and you couldn't get enough.

His hands pushed your thighs apart as he pushed your skirt higher, quickly discarding the useless fabric of your underwear. The sounds of the party and the ocean behind him muffling the moan of his name as his lips met your core. Lapping at you like you were his only sustenance.

Your legs were quickly slung over his shoulders, only his body keeping you from sliding down the wall. You could feel his groans vibrating right up through you. He needed this as much as you did. It had been a while after all.

"Val…" you whined, earning you a quick smack to your thigh.

His mismatched eyes found yours, "Shh, baby, just enjoy it."

So you did. Closing your eyes and letting him finally pull you through your release. Legs shaking as he pulled away, letting you slide down the wall until you could both lay back in the damp sand.

Valentin had barely caught his breath before you were on him, but he smirked as you tugged away his shorts. He didn't stop you when you shakily clambered into his lap. The wash of the tide creeping in, but neither of you cared all that much.

He could still feel the slowing spasms of your walls as he let you settle onto his length. Your joined moans of satisfaction washed away on the slow waves. Your hands planted on his chest as you set the pace. The party behind you long forgotten as Valentin moved to knead at the soft globes of your backside.

The waves seemed to roll in time with your hips, soaking through his shirt and cooling the flush on his skin. But your pace wasn't quite fast enough for his liking, he needed more and he needed it now.

Valentin's hold was tight as he rolled you onto your back, barely breaking contact as he picked up the pace. Holding your hands up and over your head as he chased both your highs.

Letting the water wash over you both as he peppered kisses over your neck. Winding up to your lips as he felt you finish for the second time. Legs tights around his waist as he chased his own. Your nails scraping against his hands and wrists as his rhythm stuttered. Every pent up desire spilling into you as he thrust deeper until his body shook with release.

"Fuck…" he chuckled, brushing the now damp strands from your face.

"We need to come to these things more often."

The party had barely noticed your absence when you returned. But Alexei and Vlad had noticed. One minute you and Valentin had been there, tangled together to the music, and next you were gone. Their eyes met yours with knowing grins.

"Full Moon parties really are crazy, huh?"

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It might not have been the most rational decision of your life to drop out of the university for a spiritual self-discovery trip through the East but it was definitely not the worst. OK, you ran out of money after something like one month, but that didn’t mean you were ready to give up on your plans. 

Thailand being your next destination after having left behind the breathtaking temples of Cambodia and incredibly beautiful landscapes of Vietnam, you decided to combine business with pleasure as you stormed the manager’s office of The White Lotus – the biggest and probably most expensive resort in the area – the advertisement from the local newspaper, announcing that the hotel was looking for an English speaking service staff, clutched in your hand. 

You weren’t naive, nor were you particularly experienced or life hardened. Something in between. You were impulsive, stubborn and still liked to believe in stories where the good guys saved the world and won the princess, even if deep down you knew it not to be true.

“I don’t understand,” you murmur with slight puzzlement in your voice as your gaze shifts back to your moped. “Everything was perfectly fine when I parked it here this morning.”

“Let me see,” the smooth, velvety voice makes your stomach flutter as the engine goes silent and a pair of leather gloves land carelessly on the tank as their owner swings off the bike and moves toward you.

“You’re new here, I haven’t seen you before,” there is something in the way he looks at you that makes you feel both – a cold shiver creeping up your spine and heat hitting your cheeks.

New is quite a relative term. Yes, you’ve been here for just three weeks, yet you are perfectly aware who is the handsome owner of the only Harley Davidson for the miles around even if he has apparently remained oblivious to your very existence.

But you also have to admit that it is hard not to notice Valentin – the resort’s infuriatingly handsome health mentor and fitness guru, especially when he remains number one topic of nearly every piece of gossip going around. 

Last week he was spotted sneaking out in the middle of the night from the private villa of that arrogant rich bitch from South Dakota, the one who had been terrorising the whole hotel for weeks already – the pool wasn’t warm enough, the massage table was not comfortable, the food was terrible and God forbid she was served the wrong champagne with the oysters. It seemed almost like a miracle to see her smiling the next morning at breakfast. 

Then there was that rumor that the swollen lip and the spectacularly bruised eye of one of the hotel’s personal trainers had nothing to do with the alleged jump rope accident but rather with an argument about a stolen client, apparently ending with Valentin throwing a punch. Though no one could really confirm if that part was true, some still swore of having seen him leaving the gym with blood on his knuckles.

Ah, and, of course, there was the affair, or at least, that’s what the housekeeping staff whispered about after noticing how the resort owner’s wife, easily twice as young as her husband, by the way, had taken an unusual interest in the fitness center with private stretching lessons,  late-night sauna sessions and meditation practices once of a sudden becoming a regular part of her so called wellness routine. 

Yet, despite all the fuss, you have to admit you’ve never actually seen him be anything but polite and smiling. And you have seen him. Just like everyone else, you find it impossible to look away from that broad muscular chest when he strides through the resort only clad in his yogi pants, heading to greet the new arrivals, or from those flexing biceps when you happen to pass by the training ground with him having a course - not that you’d ever admit to staring or having actually no business around there during that time of the day.

A broad chest clad in a snug dark green t-shirt that does more to accentuate than cover the perfectly chiseled muscles beneath, moves past you and your gaze involuntary drops down and lands on his hand, the conversation from the previous day rushing back absolutely uninvited. 

“Have you noticed how big his hands are?” The question had made you freeze mid-motion, the pillowcase in your hands nearly slipping to the floor. 

“Huh?” You had blinked and raised your brow questioningly, turning to Pam, your coworker, a nice girl you became friends almost immediately. 

“You know what they say…,” she had leaned in, lowering her voice to a conspiratorial whisper and giving you a knowing wink.

You had frowned, not really getting it this time, until Pam rolled her eyes, her cheeks already turning pink, as she cleared her throat. “The ones with big hands have big… you know… big khm…,” she had nodded meaningfully toward the lower part of her body.

It still had taken you a second before it finally clicked.

“Ahhh, you mean his dick,” you had said, watching as Pam practically choked on air, her face turning red as a beet, while you burst into laughter.

Yes, it is big. His hand.

“I’m Valentin,” he introduces himself, extending his hand like he expects you not to already know his name.

You hesitate for a second before shaking it, his grip is firm but warm, his somewhat rough fingers sending an unexpected jolt up your arm.

“I know,” you say, then immediately cringe at how blunt it sounds.

His smirk deepens, amusement flickering in those sharp eyes. “You know?”

You clear your throat, crossing your arms over your chest. “Everyone talks about you.”

“Good things, I hope?”

You let out a short laugh. “Depends on who you ask.”

He tilts his head, as if considering your words, then glances at your moped. “Well, I hate to break it to you, but this tire isn’t going to fix itself.”

You sigh, rubbing your temples. “Yeah, I figured. I just don’t understand – how does a perfectly fine tire suddenly go flat?”

Valentin crouches down, inspecting it. “Sometimes, it just happens. Heat, pressure, bad luck. Or…” He pauses, running a finger along the rubber.

You frown. “Or?”

He straightens, wiping his hands on his jeans. “Or someone let the air out.”

A chill prickles at your skin despite the humid air. “You think someone did this on purpose?”

“I think someone doesn’t want you going anywhere tonight,” his gaze shifts back to you, and his tongue flickers between his teeth as he licks his bottom lip. 

Shit, why does it look so fucking hot. That tongue can definitely do more. Wait, no, stop, you innerly slap yourself but it’s too late, the next thought is already there as you wonder – is it true, that thing about big hands and big… you know…

He heads back to his bike, and leans against it, arms crossed, watching you closely. “So… need a ride?”

Your heart stutters at the way he looks at you – his lips are smiling, but there is something in his eyes, something you can’t quite put your fingers on, something that makes you feel like a mouse before a big grinning cat.

You should say no, you should figure this out on your own, but the way he’s looking at you – the way he’s offering, like it’s not just a ride but something more – makes it very, very hard to refuse. 

Fuck it, we ball, you smile back at him and nod. “Yeah, that would be nice.”

—-----------------------------------------------------

“Take it easy, little doll, relax and enjoy the ride,” the hot whisper against your ear does exactly the opposite, you feel your heart racing even faster, each thumping beat pulsing between your legs, as you struggle to calm your breathing that threatens to spill into moans at any second if those thick fingers don’t stop their slow, torturous movement. 

“I… I can’t… Valentin, please…,” you breathe, your fingers gripping the edge of the table for support but your thighs part just a little wider beneath it.

The bar is dim, only the dance floor flashing in neon bursts, drawing all attention away from the shadowed corners and the shallow booths positioned along the walls with tables and red leather, plush and comfortable sofas - all tucked away in just barely enough secrecy to keep you somewhat hidden. A small mercy you feel thankful for, the sound of the pounding bass of the music  being another one, as it drowns out that moan you can’t bite back anymore as Valentin’s fingers push your panties aside, part from your pulsing clit and glide through your wet folds, to slid inside you with devastating ease. 

“You’re soaking, baby doll, just sitting here, waiting for daddy Valentin to take care of you, aren’t you?” That velvety voice edged with steel is killing you, not that those fingers inside you, curling, stretching, teasing, his thumb brushing firm, controlled circles against your clit, is making it any easier to gather any coherent thought. 

“Mmmmm… mmhhh,” is the only thing that rolls over your lips, your body reacts instinctively, muscles clenching around him, spine arching slightly against the seat as you melt into the sensation and sink back against the cushioned backrest, legs falling open just a little bit more, surrendering. 

Valentine’s other arm sneaks around your shoulders, pulling you closer, his lips brushing against your earlobe.

“Such a good girl, aren’t you?” he rasps. “Want me to ruin you, don’t you? Want me to fuck that tight, greedy pussy of yours, until you can’t walk anymore?”

“Ahh-ahhh,” your moan is barely muffled as his fingers curl against the wall of your core and press into that spot inside you that makes your vision blur and your toes curl. Oh, fuck, he’s good. 

The bar is full, the booth next to you crowded with a group of friends, laughing and clinking their glasses, but you don’t care. You can’t. Your head is spinning, thoughts dissolving, and every last bit of your self-control is fading away, all your senses dulled and consumed by the feeling of his fingers inside you, by that hypnotic voice dripping filth into your ear. 

How did you even end up here? The ride, the bike, your arms wrapped tight around his steel cut abdomen, holding for dear life – the memory is somewhat hazy, swept away in the whirlwind that is Valentin.  You can still feel the wind lashing against your skin, your breath stolen as you tucked yourself against his broad back.

“Wanna go out for a drink? You have a free day tomorrow, don’t you?” The question had sounded so casual but there was something in Valentin’s voice, some slight metallic tone, that  should have been a warning, a sign to you. 

“Yeah, sure! Why not?” words had left your lips too easily, although you couldn’t shake off the feeling like you were a prey stepping into a trap, absolutely willingly – if you wanted to be honest with yourself. 

Because of all the whispers that followed Valentin, one was clearly absent – he never went out with anyone from the staff, never even really flirted. Never. Not that they didn’t want him to. The majority of the serving staff being girls, you knew for sure that most of them would kill to go out with the dangerously handsome health mentor, but he never asked. Not until now, not until you.

And you were certainly not letting this chance slip away through your fingers, to see more of him in real life, outside the resort's controlled microclimate. Was it a Russian roulette you were playing? Absolutely, and you were all in for it. 

“Fuck… yes,... oh shit, it feels so good…,” your whines are swallowed by the pounding music, your body trembling as you feel his fingers move faster, expertly working you toward the edge and then you’re coming undone in a bar full of people, music thumping in your ears in sync with your rapid heartbeat. 

Your eyes are heavy and half lidded, head fallen back against the plush backrest, your panties are ruined, completely drenched, and your hips keep rocking instinctively chasing the pleasure he’s drawing out of you. Was this how you thought the evening would end? Fuck, yes! And something tells you it’s far from over. 

“Breathe, kitten,” Valentin’s voice is a dark purr in your ear and it slowly brings you back to reality, as he withdraws his fingers from you. You whine quietly, your thighs twitching at the loss, and your eyes flutter open, finding his gaze already on you. 

Valentin is watching you, a spark of satisfaction dancing in his gaze, his thumb brushes over your bottom lip, a teasing ghost of a touch, then he leans in.

“I want you to put that pretty mouth of yours to work, sweetheart. Will you do that for me?”

You sit up, straightening your spine as you reach for the champagne glass on the table, fingers slightly shaking. 

“Here?” you ask, turning to him. “You want me to give you head here, where everyone can see?”

“If you are up to it, baby doll,” Valentine’s smirk deepens, amusement dancing on his lips, and it just makes your heart skip a beat. 

“But I think you are very much enjoying this, aren’t you?” He leans closer, taking the glass from your fingers, lifting it to his lips and taking a slow, deliberate sip. 

Then, without breaking eye contact, he pulls you back against his chest, while his hand captures yours, guiding it downward and pressing your palm against the hardness straining beneath his pants.

“Look at what you’ve done to me.” 

Fuck, even through the thick fabric, he feels huge, and you can’t help but smirk as the thought slips in that it must be all true, that thing about the hands and the dicks.

Your eyes wander around the room, taking in how the dance floor pulses with bodies under shifting neon lights, the waitresses weaving between tables, laughter and music filling the air, you swallow harshly as the thought alone of sucking him off here practically in public in the tenuous cover of some shifting shadows sends a fresh surge of heat pooling in your core.

Your fingers already move on their own as the heavy buckle unfastens with a soft clink and the zipper parts beneath your touch. You slide a hand inside, wrapping around the length of him, drawing him out.

Valentin inhales drawing air through his teeth, a low growl rumbling in his chest, as your fingers tease over his leaking tip, his fingers weave through the strands of your hair with just enough force to make your scalp tingle, as his grip tightens and he urges you down, his silent command unmistakable.

You glance up at him, meeting his darkened gaze, the corner of his mouth lifts in amusement, watching you, waiting.

Your fingers trail along his length, teasing, feeling the weight of him in your palm. Fuck, he’s big, thick, hot, pulsing against your skin.

Slowly, you lean in, your lips parting as you let your tongue flick over the swollen tip, tasting the beads of precum gathering there and Valentin exhales sharply, a curse slipping from his lips.

"Good girl," he murmurs, his voice dissipating in the thumping bass of the music.

You take him deeper, wrapping your lips around him, savoring the way his breath hitches as he disappears into the wet heat of your mouth. 

“May I get you something else,” you hear the voice of the waitress through the haze and you freeze, unsure what to do, adrenaline surges through your veins, making your heart hammer in your chest. Panic and arousal clash violently inside you, but Valentin’s hand in your hair firmly keeps you exactly where he wants you and you don’t know what you feel more shame or the intoxicating thrill of surrender. The way he controls you, the way he holds you in place without a second of hesitation, sends a sensation through you that you've never felt before and it's rush is so deep it steals your breath.

“Thank you darling, we are well served,” his voice is smooth, utterly composed as if he weren't sitting here with his cock buried in your mouth. You can't see the waitress, your face covered by your disheveled hair, the footsteps fade away, and before you can even process what just happened Valentin guides you back down his cock, resuming the steady rhythm of your movements, and you can't but moan around him. Your tongue glides along the thick vein running down his length and you hollow your cheeks, taking him deeper, feeling him twitch against your tongue, his groan is low and guttural, barely restrained and that sound alone makes your core tighten with need.

"Just like that, kitten," he rasps, his hips jerking slightly, pushing himself further into your mouth, your own pulse pounds in your ears, matching the rhythm of the music, the sensation of him filling you overwhelming and electric. Your fingers tighten around the base of his cock as you set a steady pace, sliding up and down, working him with eager precision, and you feel his thighs tense beneath your touch, the muscles flexing under your fingers. 

You take him deeper, moaning around him, letting the vibration send a shudder through his entire body.

"Fucking hell…," Valentin’s hand tightens in your hair, his head falls back against the booth, his jaw clenched, his chest rising and falling unevenly, you can feel how close he is to letting go and coming undone right here and now, and that thought alone makes you throb between your legs, but before you can push him over that edge, he tugs you back by the hair, pulling you off him with a slick pop. Your lips are wet, swollen, and you look up at him, dazed, your breath coming in short gasps, Valentin smirks down at you, his chest heaving, his cock still thick and flushed in your hand.

"Naughty little thing," he murmurs, his thumb swiping over your bottom lip, his voice rough with barely-contained lust. "That was good. But I’m not done with you yet."

He drags you up, his mouth hovering just above yours, as he whispers. "Now, let’s see how well you take me when it’s your turn. Do you want daddy to fuck you? I know you do,” and before you can even respond, he’s already moving, pulling you into his lap, his strong hands gripping your hips as his fingers push your panties aside once more, the head of his cock is already at your entrance. 

“You know how to play this game, don’t you?” he asks, his mismatched eyes boring into you. You nod, swallowing hard.

“Your colour, baby doll?” 

You know exactly what he’s asking, your mind is hazy, body burning, every nerve tuned to him but there’s no fear, no hesitation, only raw, unfiltered desire.

“Green,” you breathe, and he pulls you down in one swift motion, burying himself inside you to the hilt.

A sharp gasp rips from your throat, your body shuddering as his thick shaft fills you completely in one go, while one of his hands wraps around your throat and the other digs into the soft flesh of your ass beneath your dress, and with that nothing else exists anymore.

The bar, the people, the distant pulse of the music, it all fades away, the only thing that matters is Valentin and his cock twitching inside you, stretching you just right, the firm grip on your throat owning you completely.

You don’t care about anything, there is no room for shame or doubt in your mind, it’s too overtaken by the indescribable pleasure of that simple feeling of giving up the control, of surrendering to that commanding voice and those mismatched stern eyes.

And then he fucks you, his hips thrust up into you, filling you deeper, harder, while his hand guide you, making you bounce on his cock, while his grip on your throat tightens—not too much, never too far—just enough to make your head spin in the best way, and soon, you're a mess, a drooling, moaning, wrecked mess.

—-----------------------------------------------------

When you open your eyes, the sunlight streaming through the curtains tells you it’s already well past midday.

Your head is heavy, your body sore in all the possible ways, and you have no idea how you got home, but here you are, back in your bed tucked beneath your light blanket.

You shift beneath the sheets, and that’s when you feel it, an arm draped around your waist and a firm chest pressed against your back.

Your breath catches, the memories of last night crash over you all at once, flooding your senses as you jolt upright, a soft, mortified moan slipping past your lips.

"Good morning, sweet baby doll," the voice is rich, smooth – so damn pleased with itself, you turn slowly, and there he is. Valentin, bare-chested, relaxed, watches you with that signature smirk that sends heat pooling low in your belly.