She woke up some time later with her arms draped around his neck. His hands were centered on her back and his nose was brushing her chin. Their faces had bent toward another's in their sleep, she felt blanketed by his breath on her face. She released a sleepy sound somewhere deep in her throat, snuggling closer and watching his expressions shift as he dreamed.

She kissed his brow gently.

"Thought I'd give you a rest." He whispered, apparently not as asleep as she thought.

At some point beforehand she had wriggled out of her sundress, but he was still fully clothed. Her thigh was draped across his denim-clad hip, calf pressed against his bum. She squeezed her leg around him briefly, lining up their pelvises.

She smiled at the quietness, the buzzing silence of their shared space.

They could be as loud as they wanted, but he still whispered as if noise would lead to an end of this moment.

Maybe it would. It was so fragile, this tenderness when her lips were swollen from him sucking on them, her body limp and slightly achy from his earlier attention.

They rarely had time to quietly recover together. She was usually thrown back on her feet and forced to stumble out of a broom cupboard, acting as though nothing had happened.

He liked her open, freshly fucked and wild. He could enjoy her like this, slowly and softly, curled in their bed.

His big hand covered her stomach and traveled downward to slip under her knickers.

"How do you feel?" he murmured, dragging a finger along her still-wet slit. His touch was first soothing, then playful.

"Mmm," she began, shifting her pelvis to further enjoy his attention, "Empty."

Her swollen lips pursed after she said it, and he laughed at her pout.

He swirled the pad of his finger along her clit a few times, enjoying the sight of her wiggling to meet him halfway.

"Poor little Victoire, clearly her boyfriend has been underperforming if she's so unsatisfied."

"Clearly," she breathed excitedly, gasping as he pulled his shirt off. She rose to sit on her haunches and aid in his disrobing. They were both on their knees in front of each other, breathless and pawing at clothes in motions more like shoves than anything else.

Teddy's body was so unlike the other boyfriends she had, few and fleeting relationships that dotted along her teen years. Honestly, they were distractions from lusting after Teddy and usually began days after his relationships did and ended seconds after his as well.

He was lean, but strong with twisted, tense muscle. His grandmother often complained there was not a spare bit of fat on the boy, and it was true. He was strong, easily lifting her over his shoulders, his werewolf genes making the right places broad and sloped, but he also had a sort of willowy-ness to him that went well with her slender, elegant frame.

She loved to look at him, because he was hers. They went well together. They looked good together.

Pale gold and electric blue somehow looked stunning, no matter how garish the combination sounded.

She threaded her hands into his hair, notching her chin over his shoulder.

She released a soft "Mmm," that he felt against his neck. Her lips worried against the muscles of his shoulders.

His own large fingers dug into her thighs, drawing her into his lap and gripping their soft flesh.

Being naked with Teddy felt like Christmas, a rare and sacred time of indulgence shared between the two of them.

"Any objections to a ban on clothing the next few days?" she whispered in his ear, drawing her fingers over the tattoos that lined his forearm, the phases of the moon he left on his skin to serve as a reminder to the both of them. Full moons were by no means dangerous, but more feral and clawing and thirsty. They only fought when the moon was at it's fattest, and made up just as quickly, scrabbling each other's clothes off with animalistic lust that was unshakable as breathing. It couldn't be helped.

"No objections from me," he answered, gulping as she was about to lower her mouth to his. This kiss was hungry, especially with her rolling her hips over his and his hands gripping her. Her tongue dug into his mouth before he could claim dominance. She gripped his hair in both hands, pulling away suddenly. His eyes were so full at the sight of her looking down upon him. She liked it. He was so open, his pupils devouring the color of his irises and his breath shaky.

She loved to do that to him, to leave him scrambling for his composure as she observed what she could do to him.

He gazed up at her, awed at the sight of Victoire. The red light of sunset hit across her face perfectly, dying her in a fiery glow. Her eyes looked silver in the direct ray of the sun. Her hair was gold and white and pink and orange, twisting around her shoulders wildly.

He marveled at her, this radiant girl in his arms, too perfect to believe. His chin rested at the center of her sternum, the flat bone echoing with her heartbeat. It was his favorite place in the world, curled in her arms and looking up at her. She'd hold him to her breast as they lay in bed together a few fleeting moments, or even curl him into her arms as he sat in a chair in front of her, only when no one was looking. Pressed against her heartbeat. Warm and safe.

In it's own twisted way, she held him in a way so nurturing, almost maternally. It was contact he'd craved.

She smoothed the mussed hair out of his eyes, sweeping a hand across his forehead so she could stroke a thumb over his brow. He leaned against the gesture, groaning softly.

"I want to bury myself in you," he murmured.

She brought her lips to the base of his throat, messily kissing his skin where it was softest.

"When you do, I won't let you go," she answered defiantly, her face illuminated in sunset and raw nerve.

His only response was a growl and his teeth at her neck.

He held fast to her thighs, draping them over his hips. She mewled softly at the slide of his cock against wetness at her slit.

He grinned when her head fell back after a gentle nudge to her clit. She clung to him, grinding herself in search of satisfaction.

"Tell me what you want," he murmured, watching her try and get him closer, rougher, harder against her waiting cunt.

She knew this kind of game he was playing very well. By the time she'd be rewarded with the thickness of his cock, she'd be so lost in pleasure that his first thrust would be enough to unravel her. She didn't find this method altogether fair, because he could go on fucking her however he pleased as she was a mess of incoherence, but she was in no position to combat him.

To even the score, she reached a hand down to stroke his cock. He groaned against the soft skin of her collarbone. She arranged him at her entrance, and lowered her body down to take him as deep as he'd go. When he was fully hilt inside her she could barely move. She gripped his shoulders and let out shay breaths. Teddy held onto her tightly, face scrunched in pleasure as he shifted his hips underneath her. He fucked her shallowly, tight fast thrusts instead of driving all the way in and out. The friction was what she needed. He held her by the waist, guiding her movements over him. She shifted her pelvis unconsciously finding what felt best, and soon she was absolutely entranced over him. She knew she was coming and didn't want to fall so fast, didn't want to surrender what little control she had. But he gave her nowhere to go.

He was holding out for something, she could tell, something that he was pushing all the right levels of intensity towards.

His thumb circled her clit as he focused on bouncing her instead of thrusting into her. Her legs went boneless at this.

Her head fell back and a soft "merde" escaped her lips.

His face lit up. She'd broken out the French. She only did it in a certain state, and every time there they fucked and there was a language gap, he felt like he won a trophy.

She didn't exactly notice, being in the state she was in, but once she was babbling in mumbled French he pushed her right over the edge.

He held fast to the quivering mess of her body and limbs, anchoring her on his lap as she shuddered and came. Teddy did not let up as she quivered around him, her cunt clenching down on his cock like a fist. It was then his thrusts became feral and rough, because he'd gotten her as pliant as he'd wanted.

She loved how he fucked her; it was so dark, so unhinged. He fucked her like he was a monster and she was divine. She was absolutely overcome with feeling, hands on his chest as she leaned her upper body against his.

He slid out of her for a moment, guiding her to lie on her back and rolling on top of her.

He was back inside her so suddenly it knocked the air out of her lungs. Breathless, she clung to him as he thrust wildly.

Her legs were hiked up, knees against her chest, and he filled her so deep and wild she never regained the air in her lungs. She felt his arms tremble the way they did when he was about to cum, and when he groaned so heartrendingly in her ear, she knew he was right there.

He clung to her through his orgasm. She arched her back when she felt the pulse of his hot cum inside her. He opened his eyes to see her blissed-out expression, and high on orgasm and life and just Victoire the words began to tumble out.

"Sometimes I think about us," he groaned against her neck, "I mean, I think about you every fucking second, but when I think about us, fuck, Victoire, I want to be with you forever. I want to marry you and make babies with you, I love you so damn much it hurts."

They'd exchanged countless sweet words during the course of their lives. Not so intense, not in this setting.

"I knew," she answered in a voice that was not quite a whisper, but still was a tiny brush along his skin, "I think I always knew."

Tears filled her eyes.

He froze, a look of regret passing over his features, loaded with fear. "Oh, shit, I'm sorry. That was too much. I'm so sorry. I mean, not sorry I said it because I do think these things, but, I mean there's no pressure, I just…"

Victoire laughed softly, holding his face in shaking hands.

"Do you know how long I waited to hear that?" she said in her dry, chuckling voice.

He let out a relieved laugh, kissing the heel of her hand.

"Please. I asked you to marry me when I was five."

"Which you then immediately denied when Uncle Harry teased you about it."

He shrugged his shoulders, which was a feat seeing as he was hovering his body over hers. "Clearly there is still some bitterness there."

She huffed softly, unable to escape the cage made by his arms. She rolled onto her side, twisting her mouth in that way she did when she was annoyed.

"Don't hold a grudge, 'Toire," He tucked a kiss under her ear, "I can't bear seeing you angry."

She chuckled, feeling him smile knowingly against her skin. They both knew quite well how he didn't mind getting her riled.

"We were having a moment back there and you've ruined it." She pointed out helpfully.

"A moment you say? I must really be a bastard," his lips traveled the arch of her cheekbone, twitching with a smile. She swatted a hand against his ribcage.

"Yeah, bastard, I think tomorrow you should stop being a cave-man and let your girlfriend initiate the sex. For once."

He raised one dark brow, surprised but intrigued. He'd been dominant throughout their relationship, not that he'd ever shied away from her controlling moments. She knew it too, he was never denying her power over him, she held his heartstrings like reigns at this point. It was just he was older and she had been so star struck with her gorgeous older boyfriend, Teddy, who began their relationship by hauling her into his arms and carrying her off into a broom cupboard. It was just their way sexually. He led; she followed.

"Damn, I'm sorry 'Toire." He leveled his eyes to hers apologetically, "Has that been bothering you for a while? I wasn't sure…"

"No! It hasn't been bothering me any more than when you pull out your favorite childhood nicknames for me or act like your so much smarter than me, which you're not. It's never made me unsatisfied. But I just want to…"

Her fingers traced down her sternum, gently drawing circles over his abdomen. He drew in a sharp breath.

Her eyes met his, bravery simmering in the pale blue, "When you make me absolutely lose myself to what you do to me, it's the sexiest I ever feel. When I'm just falling and all I've got to hold onto is you."

His eyes were wide, enraptured, and a little innocent in their curiosity.

"I want you to feel that way. I want to make you feel that way." She slid her arms around his waist, pulling him down for an overwhelming kiss.

They both felt it again when her lips took power over him; she fucking owned him. He made her lost in pleasure because he felt he had to please her.

"Shit, that is the sexiest thing I've ever heard." He said softly against her lips when she allowed him back his breath.

Her smile was quite smug, a feeling they both could get used to.

A/N Any requests? Ideas? Prompts?

Also I have a few ScoRose ideas in mind, anyone here interested in that ship?