Vincent Valentine X Reader Novels & Stories

Xavier’s pov Valentina's nails dug into my shoulders, sharp enough to pull a breath from my chest as I thrust into her hard against the edge of my desk, her legs wrapped tight around my waist. The sun filtered through the blinds, casting stripes across her flushed skin. "Fuck, yes… Xavier," she gasped, her voice a ragged demand that cut through the slap of our bodies colliding. Her dark eyes locked onto mine, challenging, knowing exactly how to push me without breaking.

They were glowing anymore, and he finally let go of me. “Victoria won’t even know what’s coming for her!” Valentine spoke in an aggressive, ‘you’re going to have it now’ tone, which left me completely shocked. “How..did you know it was...Victoria?!” “I saw it. I accessed your memory and relived what you went through. She has no damn right to cause pain to you, Hailey. I should just go right in her stupid den and rip her apart.” I was shocked by Valentine’s words. I get that he’s angry but ripping someone apart? I didn’t know how to respond.

Vix sat across from me at the counter, her hair in a ponytail, with two guns in her belt. I smiled and enjoyed the sweet muffin. Vix laughed and shook her head. "What’s up? " she asked. I shrugged. "What’s wrong, Valentina? " she pressed again. I laughed and leaned in closer. "Have you and him fucked yet? " I whispered, glancing at Dante, who was busy on his phone. She laughed and coughed. "Stop it. What about you and Luca? Oh wait, I didn’t think so," she replied.

Valentine sat without invitation. “What’s your name?” the woman asked. “Valentine.” “Last name?” “None.” Another pause. The woman crossed her arms. “What can you do?” Valentine leaned back. “I can vanish. I can listen. I can make people underestimate me and regret it later. I don’t drink on jobs. I don’t talk when I’m paid to stay quiet.” “And when you’re not paid?” “I still don’t talk,” Valentine said. “I just remember.”

Valentino pressed one last kiss to my temple. “Valerie Drakvolk.”

Tbc. (Ryley's pov on readers demand. What do you think is going to happen in the upcoming chapter? Will Valen like it, or just... You know... Go mad on him! Let's see that together in the next chap. Do lots of of comments. And follow my author's profile on Instagram @chantinglove138. Thanks)

For a moment, I looked at Sasha and asked if I spotted an opportunity in her or if it was my emotions trying to drag me to a place I never wanted to be. As difficult as it was for me to understand, love was also hard for me to comprehend. “I don’t let people into my world. I’ve got to save something for myself. I can’t just let everybody know everything about me,” I muttered, looking her in the face. “Am I everyone, Val?” Sasha said as she turned, facing me with her mouth wide open. “Don’t call me Val, I’m not Father Valentine. I am Valentino, nothing less to my name,” I said as I pulled out my cigar and puffed the smoke on her face with a fierce look.

"You don’t build a life with someone by avoiding the hard stuff. If he loves you, he’ll talk. And if he doesn’t, you deserve to know that too. Don’t let a contract decide how you feel. You’re not that girl anymore." I swallowed hard. She was right, and I hated that she was right. "When did you get so wise?" "Marriage and a baby growing inside me," she laughed, rubbing her bump. "It forces perspective. Speaking of which, do you want to see pictures? His name’s Julian. He’s a lawyer, brown hair, terrible taste in ties, but he rubs my feet every night without me asking. We met in Chicago. I spilled wine on his briefcase and he asked me to dinner instead of suing me."

He introduced himself, "I'm Ronald Weeks, lady. Twenty-three years old, and I've just graduated from college. Oh, here's a gift for you." He took out a pot of mint, apparently from out of nowhere. The smell sobered me up, and I was half-amused. "It is Valentine's Day today. And you gave me this?" "Yes. I bought this for you," said Ronald earnestly. "Why?" "You're a beautiful woman, and yet you still came to this place on Valentine's Day. I'm sure you know that this place can give you something better than a relationship." No arguments against that. I grabbed Ronald's hand and asked him to drink with me. When I sobered up once more, it was already the next day. I found myself in an unfamiliar

I approached him but instead of a kiss or a greeting at least I got the following words: "What the hell is this Valentina?" As I looked at him confused I realized he was pointing at the newspaper in his hand and I wish I never looked. There in bold letters right on the front page was written: Madox, a liar, and a murderer. And at the bottom of the article was written my name. Meaning I was the author of this article What the fuck?