A/N: So I was listening to secret times while writing this and GIRL this man is a FREAK!
|Illegal! Streetracer! Xavier, Flag Girl! Reader, Curvy!Reader, Reader Is described as being curvy, Reader likes fast cars (and one guy who drives them), Reader has an estranged mother who pops up briefly, it’s not a main plot point, No use of Y/N, some mention of car jargon that I had my irl partner translate since this is kinda his thing, it’s short don’t worry, Xavier is a sweet boy, miscommunication (NOT the toxic kind), reader is an idiot who misreads body signals, Xavier is an idiot who misreads body signals, idiots in love, chat they’re not neighbors in this one, non-canon compliant, not even if you squint, eventual smut, p in v sex, kissy missionary, the whole nine yards (wink wonk). Enjoy!
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They whispered his name everywhere you went.
“Oh my god! Lumiere is a racing prodigy!”
“Did you hear about that rookie who absolutely smoked the reigning champion?”
“He won a race against Sylus?”
“Dude he was absolutely insane!”
Figures the one race you miss something exciting happens.
Lumiere, Lumiere, Lumiere.
He did this, he did that. Lumiere definitely wasn’t his real name. Nobody knew what it actually was, and in the world of underground racing? Nobody would dare to ask. As far as the announcers were concerned, they just needed to know what to call you if you won.
Not that you’d ever joined yourself. You really fucking wanted to though. Instead of just standing there and looking pretty and waving a flag, you wanted to be in the car. You wanted the rush, the adrenaline. But you couldn’t afford a car, especially not the super cars that seemed to dominate these kinds of scenes.
But you’d get there one day. Whether you built it yourself or conned someone into getting one for you. A really rich someone…
Someone calls your name, and you sling your heavy backpack over your shoulder and look back towards her. Tara and Jenna walk up to you, hand in hand with grins on their faces. “Hey, you’re going to the race tonight right?”
You blink. You went every night there was one, almost. She knew that! “Yeah?”
Tara’s grin got even larger, spreading across her face until it looked like it hurt. “And the afterparty?”
“I don’t usually go to those,” You sigh, flipping some loose hair back over your shoulder with the rest of it. “I do have homework to finish.”
Jenna laughs and uses her free hand to cross her body and poke Tara in the ribs. “She always forgets that part.”
Tara is having none of the distractions. “Yeah, yeah. But my grades aren’t all that bad, you know? I may not be top of the class like our friend here, but I’m decent enough to get an internship at that company I told you about. Nero, the guy who interviewed me says there’s no way I won’t be hired on in under a year.” She takes a small bow and flares her hands about dramatically.
“Tara are you serious? Oh my god that’s amazing!” Your mouth falls open, squealing with her and Jenna as you group hug. “No seriously, that’s absolutely amazing. I’m so proud of you!”
“We’re so proud of you.” Jenna squeezes her tighter before you all let go.
“Thank you! I tried really hard. Have you thought about what you’re going to do after college?”
You shrug. “I don’t know. I’m working on this degree because my parents would have an absolute heart attack if I wasn’t.”
“You really out to start working on what you want. It’s your life. You’re the one who’s going to have to live it.” Jenna threads her fingers back through Tara’s as they walked out of the building with you.
“Gross, you sound like the humanities professor.”
“And you’ve not gotten better at hiding your facial expressions!” Tara singsongs, going back to looking at the scenery around you.
“I’m not that bad.” You scrunch your nose.
“You’re awful.” Jenna disagrees too quickly for you to get her on your side.
You throw your hands in the air, deciding you’d continue this disagreement later when you had the energy. Besides, you had a perfectly good poker face.
It was crowded, even for a Friday night. Everyone talks, and this time they didn’t have to whisper. “You think Lumiere will show up?”
“Dude, no way will he show up. He’s won like every race so far. He’s gonna get bored.”
“Of winning? No. They’re all adrenaline junkies. They do it for the rush!”
You roll your eyes, heels clicking as you walked past, whispers and talking decreased. All dolled up in the shortest shorts you owned and whatever bikini top you manged to find and squeeze your tits into.
You were gifted in both departments. It’s the very reason you’d been asked to do it in the first place. The only reason you agreed? It was easier to see the cars up close.
The cars all take their places, the announcer uses a loudspeaker to announce the rules like he does every time. You spot people taking bets in the stand. Some people whisper about the whereabouts of Lumiere, and envy twists in your stomach into a cruel knot. You’d be talked about like that one day. Make no mistake. You’d be the next Lumiere one day. You’d-
There’s the roar of a loud engine, and the owner of it pulls up in clear view. You whistle, a high sound as you shift your hip. A Supra MkV, all black with the tinted windows to match. By the looks of that baby? You’d say it was packing a 3.0 liter inline engine. Turbo charged, six cylinders. 382 horsepower.
Was this the car he’d beat Sylus with? Did he have others?
Still, he’d better be a good driver if he expected to win. If your peers hyped him up for no reason you’d be pissed. It was bad enough you were jealous of his car, and his fame. But if that fame was misplaced? If he was hyped up for nothing, being pissy would be the least of your worries. You’d be fucking disappointed.
The announcer nudges you as he walks past, signalling that it’s your turn.
You raise the checkered flag above your head and wait for his signal.
A cacophony of engines sound, all forming a showy chorus for the crowd. You hide a smile.
The crowd erupts into cheers.
You wave the flag and stand straight as the cars all speed past you, your hair blowing over your face and sticking to your gloss.
Xavier had nothing to lose by losing the race tonight, really. He never planned on it. And he wasn’t going to.
“Man, I cannot believe you keep doing this.” Jeremiah groans. “And who names themselves Lumiere anyways? You’re not even French!”
“You’re not suggesting I use my real name.” Xavier sighs.
“What? That’s what you took away from that whole statement? Not the dangerous race could kill you tones?”
“Yep.” He popped the ‘p’ and checked over his car one last time.
“You’re hopeless.” He throws his hands up in the air, turning around and looking around Xavier’s garage. He picks up a wrench. “Nice pliers.”
It was Xavier’s turn to be exasperated. “That’s a wrench. Put it down.”
“I run a flower shop! I’m not a mechanic. You could t least thank me for trying to support your dream of tongue kissing death all the time.”
Xavier puts a single, car greased hand on Jeremiah’s shoulder, staining his white shirt. “Thanks, buddy.”
Ah, the joys of friendship.
His eyes are on you as soon as he sees you walk out. He hadn’t quite pulled up to the starting line yet, and now he was grateful. He had full view of you right here. But as other racers noticed the car, they made way for him out of respect. He can hear the crowd cheer even from inside the car.
His brows furrow as his hands slide of the cool leather over his steering wheel. He watches you, the girl he’s spend a majority of the announcer talking, look at his car. He supresses a smile.
Weaving through the crowd of the other racers is easy work. He’s got one opponent from here on out, and it’s the man in the black Toyota Cecelia GT-4, with red accents. He didn’t know much about cars before he started this. But he’s seen this car more than once. He’s beaten it more than once.
From the rearview of Sylus’ car, he sees the silver-haired man smirk. He knows that Xavier is gaining on him. Xavier wants him to know, and he wants him to be able to do nothing about it.
The sounds of tires screech behind them, two rookies have crashed. Small glimpses in his rearview tell him that the crash won’t be fatal. They hadn’t gotten up to their top speeds yet.
Xavier’s front bumper breathes down Sylus’ rear, Crimson eyes flicker towards him again and back to the road. The smirk is gone. Good. Time for the real game.
He pulls his car next to Sylus, their front tires nearly kissing as they make the final turn.
And just before Sylus can win, Xavier speeds up, overtaking Sylus quickly, crossing the finish line before Sylus backwards. A showy trick that would undoubtedly send Jeremiah into cardiac arrest when he hears about it, but it’s fun. Besides, it’s not like anyone died?
The race is neck and neck. Your friends are beside you, cheering for either Sylus or Lumiere. They put on a compelling show, you’ll admit. But where is the prodigy you were promised? Here you are, watching two men breathe down each other’s necks in a competition where even getting in costs more money than you can wager. The stakes? The entire winnings and admiration of everyone watching.
That is, until Lumiere’s Supra downshifts. You sit up, everyone around you slips into silence. Is he suicidal? The gap that he closes is a cunt’s hair away from making him spin out, the speed he’s going? He’s rolling if he crashes. He could very likely die.
There’s no time to even blink when Lumiere whips his car around, crossing the finish line backwards. Our mouth sits agape, Tara starts excitedly shaking you while Jenna slow claps. Simone screams excitedly, helping Tara with her standing ovation.
You’re there just after the last car speeds by you, heels clicking against the pavement. But they slow you down too much. He’s going to be gone before you can catch him. Before you can ask him how he did that.
You slip your heels off, grabbing them before you break out into a run. His shiny Supra’s black paint lets you catch a glimpse of how your hair sticks to your sweaty forehead. His tinted windows roll down just as the announcer gets there with his winnings.
The announcer smiles and gives his congratulations. Your gaze falls to the ground. What to say, what to say? Surely you can’t just ask, can you?
“I don’t give out autographs.” The man in the driver’s side says before he almost completely rolls his window up. You supress the urge to roll your eyes, you hadn't even spoken yet! His voice is clear and smooth, softer than you expected. A gentle breeze in a sea of striking winds.
Your hand wedges itself in th crack, and he stops. “I’m not here for an autograph. I want to know how you did that.”
“That…That thing. At the end. With the spin?”
Oh, two can play at this game.
Against your better judgement, and probably the judgement of everyone close to you if they knew what you were about to do, you slide in the passenger’s side of his car. The door opens with ease, why had he not locked it?
And now you sit beside the legend himself. Lumiere.
You had expected him to be a little ugly. Most guys you knew who had this interest didn’t care much for their appearances. But not him. Striking blue eyes find yours, blinking in confusion at the display of audacity. His blond hair is messy, his white sweater pinned with a single planet on it.
“Get out of my car?” He asks, voice not at all stern. He could do better than that if he actually wanted you out of his car. He certainly looks stromg enough to pull you out of it.
“Tell me.”You demand, and Lumiere sighs.
His long fingers tap against the steering wheel, his handsome face twitching as he deliberates the dangers of giving up his racing secrets. “Why should I tell you?” The corners of his lips turn upwards by just the faintest amount. A teasing lilt in his voice as he stares at you with those big, blues.
It’s your turn to be flabbergasted. “Look, I’m…I know how this looks. I know you probably think that I only jumped in here to get your attention. But I-“ He allows you to take a deep breath, and start again. “My dream is to do what you do. I’m saving up to fix this car I have back home, but until then I need to pick up as many skills as possible so if I attempt to do what you’ve done, I don’t die.”
Lumiere breaks out into a light laugh. “So you’re not rabid fangirl?”
“Do you…get a lot of those?”
“Unfortunately. I prevent others from seeing my face as much as possible. But there’s been a few that demand a little more than I’m willing to give.” You watch his smile drop just a bit.
You hold your hands up, your cheeks burning in embarrasment as you realize how you must have looked to him in the moment. “Why didn’t you lock the doors? You had plenty of time?”
“Because you’re pretty. And you seem motivated. You want me to teach you how to drive?”
You nod. “Like you. I can pay! Not very much. But when I win my first races, I’ll pay you back, I swear.”
Lumiere’s head shakes. “I don’t want money.”
Lumiere shakes his head again, the tips of his ears going red when he realizes the conclusions you've drawn. “Not…that, either.”
“If I teach you to drive, then you drive the next race we enter. I’ll sit in the passenger’s side.”
“Are you crazy?” Your eyes widen, your gaze locking onto his in a game of push and pull. For every fast blink you perform, despite your gasp and your searching for the joke, there isn’t one. His eyes are crystalline in their resolve.
“This is a Supra MkV.” You deadpan. “This car is worth more than everything I own. What if I crash?”
“I’ll make sure you aren’t hurt.”
You sigh, leaning back in the passenger seat as you think. He’s not onfident in you, he must be confident in his skills. You don’t blame him, you’d be proud if you somehow defied some rules of science at max speed before taking a win as ruthlessly as he did. “What’s the caveat?”
“What will you do if I don’t win?”
Lumiere goes quiet. “Uh…? Better luck next time?”
You gape at him. “You’ve got to the craziest person I’ve ever met, Lumiere.”
“Xavier.” He corrects softly, his voice has never left that pitch. “And the feeling is mutual.”
Xavier Shen makes for a strict teacher. He can tell by the way your shoulders slump in the summer heat every time you make a mistake. Mistakes could cost you your life when you go over 100 miles an hour every night for fun. He’s determined to teach you correctly, he wants you to know.
Besides, if he doesn't, there’s no telling what you’ll do to achieve your dream.
He can’t say exactly what made him agree. Maybe it’ll get people off his back. If someone new comes along, they’ll leave him alone, and he can just drive fast and live the rest of his life where people won’t bother him.
He won’t bother thinking too hard.
After all, you’ve worn one of those crop tops you’re fond of and short shorts. He’s not sure if you’ve done it on purpose and using the weather as an excuse, or if you genuinely don’t know what you’re doing when you lean over in the car because you’ve “dropped” something.
Just like you are now. “Xavie? Can we just pause for now? It’s hot.” You stick out your lower lip in a pout. You’re good at using your pretty privilege, he’ll give you that.
“Xavie’s not listening. Xavier is giving you exactly what you asked for.” He catches it, the faint hitch in your breath, the way you try to turn so he can’t see the color dusting your cheeks. Had he said something wrong?
“R-Right. Back to the lesson.”
“Okay, so when you do your next turn, hug the corners, this will help you gain an edge.” He gestures with his hands, one is the corner, and the other the motion he needs you to follow. It’s a good thing he used one of his backup cars today. You seemed anxious when you were speaking about his regular car, but if you can’t handle the power in this one? You’d be terrified of the Supra.
You steel yourself, taking in a breath and gripping the steering wheel tight. You shift the car back into drive, and he corrects your hands.
“You’ll have more control if you handle it like this.” He whispers, he doesn’t know why he whispers. But you’re sitting here all flushed in the driver’s seat of his car and you look so pretty. And when your eyes finally meet his for the first time today, it’s his turn to suck in a breath.
“Right.” You whisper back and focus your eyes back on the empty country road.
He’d once learned here when he was practicing. And being out here? Driving his car? It saved him. Gave him peace. It seems only fitting he take you here as well. He watches the anxiety lift from your face as you follow his instructions, a smile even flitting on your face when you finally manage to execute something perfectly.
“I did it.” You whisper under your breath, but he’s already smiling. Already filled with pride. “I did it!” You throw your hands up, squealing in excitement.
He watches you do your victory dance in your seat, watches the sunlight hit your eyes in a way that makes you seem ethereal. “You did. Good job.” The praise results in you beaming at him, and a marathon could not take that much breath out of him like the way you look right now. Beautiful couldn’t be the correct word.
As radiant as the sun that shines on your face.
You pause, meeting his eyes. There aren’t any more nicknames, or banter. Just the sunlight on your face and the static in the air. “Are we done for the day?” Your voice cracks.
“Do you want to be done?” He hasn’t dared to move, afraid he’ll ruin the moment. That everything will go back to the way it was minutes before. Because he knows that even when you’re gone, when you’ve gotten all the lessons you need from him, he’ll think about this day in the sunlight for the rest of his life.
“What’s the deal with you and Lumiere?” Tara elbows you, a grin on her face.
“Do you call him Lumiere in private too?” Simone doesn’t have the tease in her voice that Tara does, but she has the same mischief in her eyes.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Oh bullshit!” Tara scoffs, a little too loudly for the pubic study library on campus. The librarian promptly shushes her. Your friend winces and whispers (loudly) her apology, leaving the librarian to roll her eyes and get back to her paperwork.
How you envied her. You, too, had a mountain of homework and studying to do. Which is why you were here today, instead of with Xavier.
He smiled at you so genuinely, so proud when you finally completed the basics. You blink back tears just thinking about it. You’d never had someone look at you that way. Not your friends, or your parents. Nobody.
He looked at you that day in the car as if you were the one that put the very stars in his eyes. The soft way the wind blew his blonde hair messed with your concentration so much you went home just to google what ‘Lumiere’ even meant.
“Light.” You whisper to yourself, much to the confusion of your friends, who both check the paper in front of you. It definitely didn’t have to do anything with light. It wasn’t even science homework, you think.
Lumiere meant light in French. You wonder if he knew that he would be a star, and that’s why he chose the name for himself. Or if he knew that he was the embodiment of a human star. If it hadn’t been for the sun shining behind him that day, you’d have almost thought the light came from him.
“Girl, are you okay?” Simone’s hand wraps around your wrist, confusion and worry mixed up into one little pot and spilled onto your friend’s face.
“Yeah…” You answer, closing your books. “Just thinking about Lumiere.”
“Oh girl…” Even Tara’s face turns when she realizes. “You’ve developed a crush on that guy?’
“I don’t know.” It walked like a duck, and quacked like a duck, but even if it is a crush, how are you meant to tell him without him assuming the worst? Like asking him to teach you to drive just to get close to him? Its not the case, but what if he thought it was?
Better to bury the crush behind a big pile of, “It’s probably just admiration.”
You hoped it was either or.
.
The sun was setting when you walk out of your apartment complex in June. Xavier has been teaching you for a month, and there’s a little over a week to solidify everything you’ve had to learn in such a short time. Everyone is buzzing about it, whispers about Lumiere begin again. As if leaving him out of the racing conversation was out of the question.
You get Xavier. Soft spoken and somehow still strict, Xavier. Xavier who never yells at you if you fail something. Xavier who’s always ready to encourage you when you don’t.
Xavier, who’s pulling up in a different car this week than the other two you’ve seen. It’s another Honda, not as flashy or as showy as the other two. And this means you’re probably not going to practice today.
You enter the car as soon as you make eye contact. Your hand still squeezing the handle when you’ve sat down and shut the door. It feels awkward now that you’ve got this big fat crush on the soft spoken man who’s shown you all the kindness you’ve missed out on.
“Do you like hotpot? I’m kind of hungry.”
Shoving your thoughts away, you nod and smile like you’ve done a hundred times this past month. And if he notices it, he’s never said a word. You’re grateful because you don’t have finals to blame it on anymore. You don’t have anything to blame anymore.
Rumination takes your brain away. Maybe you’re making a big deal out of nothing. Maybe you’ve misconstrued kindness for something more. God, were you really so attention starved that you’d fall for a guy just because he was nice to you? It’s like believing that a stripper loves you just because she calls you ‘Honey’.
“We’re here.” Xavier’s quiet voice breaks the silence. Silence. Not even the radio had been on the whole time.
You follow him in, a step behind as he opens the doors for you. He does the ordering, but asks for your input.
“I’ve never had hotpot before.” You shrug, and his eyes widen.
“Okay, would it be okay if I handled it then? The ordering?”
“Yeah, go for it.” You manage a small smile and he begins speaking to the waitress, who’s attentative as she takes down the orders.
“How do you handle spicy food?” Xavier pauses ordering just to ask. Always considerate, always sweet. Your heart aches.
“I can handle it. As long as it isn’t like, a california reaper or something.”
The waitress laughs. “Nothing like that. I’ll make sure with the kitchen before they make it though. Just to be sure.” It’s a joke, and even Xavier laughs, continuing with the order until she’s gone.
“So, this is the last week.” Xavier says. “Of your training. You’ve picked it up pretty fast, a lot faster than I did. You’re a natural at it.”
You cross your legs and relax in your seat. You try to make a face that tells everyone that you’re happy to be here and having this conversation. The last week…
“Yeah, I can’t believe it’s almost over.” You laugh. “Just when things were getting good.”
“One minute you’re struggling with hugging turns, and the next minute you’re zooming through the courses like you’re the teacher…” Xavier keeps talking, complimenting you on how you know to hug at certain points and take wide turns when it’s needed.
He’s genuinely impressed with you. You can tell because he’s got that light in his eyes that he has whenever he’s talking about something he’s passionate about. You stop him with a gesture.
“Why did you start racing?’
The question itself would have been enough to stop him in his tracks judging by the way he pauses all movements, even his breathing, if only for a second. “That is…a pretty serious one.” He considers it for a moment, rubbing his chin with his hand before he settles his arms down on the table. Then he pauses again, his eyes flickering to behind you as the waitress brings everything you need over and promply leaves. “I wanted to feel alive.”
He rubs the back of his neck, his cheeks heating. “Promise not to tell anyone?”
“I read a book about a guy who did it for fun. And in that book he mentioned how alive the whole thing made him feel. I wanted to see if I felt that way when I tried it. So I got a suitable car for it and practiced every night. It took me almost a year to get where you are right now.”
“No way.” You snort. “You’re kidding me!”
“Yeah…I guess I’m not so mysterious anymore, huh?”
Why the fuck did you just say that? Oh my god, oh my god, ohmygodohmygod. You want to scream. Why did it just slip out? Internal thoughts are meant to be internal.
“Cute? I’m flattered.” He doesn’t push it further, and you don’t know whether to be disappointed or relieved. You try to tell yourself it should be the latter.
He shows you how to eat the hotpot, and you discover that you like it, and that Xavier’s taste in food is as good as his taste in cars.
Everything is good. As good as it can get when you have a stupid crush on the guy who stubbornly insists on paying for your meal even though you can pay for your half just fine. He cites an excuse of springing it on you, and you finally give up and let him pay for it.
Everything is good, until you get a text from the one person you’re not supposed to have contact from.
He doesn’t know what he’s done wrong, but it’s driving him crazy. Why did he have to develop a crush on the one girl he can’t have? You asked him for driving lessons, not the friendliest date known to man. The waitress had even told the both of you that you were a, “cute couple”.
You’d rushed out after that. You don’t really talk on your car rides. There aren’t anymore jokes or heartwarming moments. And everytime there’s a moment where he sees a flicker of that girl in the sun your walls go back up, sky high, faster than even he can race to get to them.
And after tonight he may never see you again.
The rain outside howls, prompting a chain message to everyone in the scene that the race has been rescheduled. It was probably Rafayel who sent it. He should be relieved, at least today wouldn’t be his last day seeing you.
But he’s not. He’s not relieved in the slightest. Even the rain, with the perfectly timed lightning, is not enough.
He needs to see you. He needs to see you now.
His Supra is easily recognizable to anyone in the underground racing scene, and especially you. He wants you to know that he’s coming. Because he can’t take the absolute torture of not telling you how he feels another minute.
He has no idea what he’s going to say. He didn’t even bring a jacket or an umbrella , and he doesn’t even realioze it until he’s standing outside your apartment with the rain soaking into his clothes. Because he never thought to ask for your address. He never thought he’d need it. He-
“Xavier? The race was cancelled. Aren’t you cold?”
Your soft voice somehow makes it through the pelting rain, a clear umbrella over your head as you look at him so puzzled.
He speaks your name, and he wishes it didn’t sound just right. Because he’s about to confess to a girl who only ever asked for driving lessons. “I-…I didn’t come for the race.” He admits.
You step closer, offering protection with the umbrella as best as you can. He still towers over you, so he steps closer and closer, pushing the limits he knows he really shouldn’t push. You don’t speak, or move, to stop him. So you stand close while he ducks under your umbrella.
“Um, what did you wanna…you must’ve come here for something?”
“And you thought of me for this help?”
His throat swells when he opens his mouth to speak. Tight knots twist in his stomach as his eyes flit over your face, trying to memorize the details just in case this really is the last time he’ll see it.
“It’s not help. You can’t really help and you’re not obligated to-“ He takes a deep breath and looks away for just a second before focusing his eyes right on you. “I have feelings for you. Romantic ones.”
You blink, brows furrowing as you process the information. “You have a crush on me?”
“…Yeah. I’m sorry. I know the waitress at the restaurant I took you to thought we were a couple. I’m sorry I didn’t correct her, I should’ve-”
He expects rejection. He can handle rejection. He’d deserve no less for bothering you with feelings that aren’t yours to shoulder.
You drop the umbrella. Xavier’s immediate reaction is to pick it up, but he can’t. Soft lips touch his, kissing him, pulling his shirt closer to their owner. He obliges, wrapping his arms around you as snugly as he can manage while your lips do a dance as old as time. “I’m glad she did. I didn’t leave because of you.”
You taste like honey and cinnamon. You smell like it too, a hint of something herbal. He leans over you to block the rain. “Don’t leave me after the race.” He begs, his voice cracking.
He knows you know he’s crying, his heart beating so fast it aches.
That’s all he needs to hear before your lips crash back together.
“Your clothes are wet.” You murmur against his lips as you both stumble into your apartment.
“We should take them off.”
Words between kisses are rushed and hurried, filled with the holes from where you both need to pull away for air. But neither of you want to. As far as you’re concerned, you could stay like this forever.
Clothes come off in a wet tangle, thrown onto the hardwood floor of the kitchen you pass by with a thwack! And you lead him backwards into your bedroom and let him settle between your legs.
Soft kisses trail across your neck, your fingers sink into the soft, damp hair you’ve dreamt about touching since your first night jumping in his car impulsively. You almost want to kiss yourself for that decision.
“You’re so beautiful.” He whispers against your skin.
“Only because my light is here to show me.” You whisper back, breathless as he uses the deft fingers of his right hand to ghost along your body.
You can feel him smile against your skin, trailing open mouthed kisses down right after his hand.
“My light.” You agree again, head dizzy from the sheer amount of sensations on your skin alone.
More open mouthed kisses, ones that lightly bite when he pulls away to leave some semblance of a mark. You gasp, and two fingers trace your slick folds, testing before they bury themselves knuckle deep. He presses in slowly, you watch him pump them in slowly. His blue eyes searching your face for any discomfort, any sign of wanting to stop. “Don’t stop.”
You reach for his face, cupping it before pulling it to yours. The kisses aren’t needy this time. They’re soft. They feel like love. Tears prickle your eyes.
Xavier pauses, resting his forehead against yours. “Do you still want this?”
“Yes.” You kiss him again. “It just feels good, I promise.”
He kisses you again, slow and soft. In the only way Xavier Shen could kiss you. And he begins pumping his fingers in and out of you again. His breath ghosting against your neck in between his newfound kisses.
“You’re so vocal, and so quiet at the same time.” He whispers. “You sound divine.”
He curls his fingers upwards, hitting that little spot within you that makes you see more stars than just the star of your dreams above you. Your back arches off the bed, His other arm snakes around you, pulling you close so that you’re chest to chest. Despite the rain having been cold, he’s warm.
He feels every bit the light he named himself after, and he whispers praises against your skin while he pumps his fingers faster. He makes you cum just like that. Stars behind your eyelids, whispered praises, and a warmth that surrounds you. You’d burst into tears if you could process anything other than the way his fingertips press against your sweet spot as he pulls them out.
“Easy beautiful.” He murmurs. “It’s okay. Relax.”
You don’t know why he’s telling you to relax until you look down. Of all the rumors you’ve heard about Lumiere/Xavier, and none of them were about the third leg he had between his legs.
It’s long, the tip a blushing pink with beading precum. You want to drool at the idea of it bullying it’s way into your guts.
Xavier’s voice makes your attentions snap back to his face.
“They were.” You protest.
“I meant my face, not my dick, Starlight.” He teases, cockhead probing the entrance of your slick entrance.
His tip makes it’s way in, stealing the words right from your throat. He doesn’t stop there, even if he’s still checking your expressions to make sure you’re okay. He sinks so painfully slow inside you.
Your eyes flicker downwards.
He pulls out some, and you whine, wiggling your hips desperately until he stills them with a single large hand placed on top. Right over your womb.
“Eyes on me.” He reminds, tone sweet and soft when he snaps his hips into you, pressing down where he’s at.
Your jaw goes slack, eyes rolling backwards. He pauses, and pulls half of it out. He ignores every protest. Xavier has one goal tonight. “Eyes on me.” That same sickly sweet tone as he snaps his hips forward.
A strangled moan manages it’s way out of you as he continues his assault on your weeping pussy. Half-lidded eyes hold yours in a daring staring contest.
“You feeling good?” Xavier doesn’t need that response from you, you know he knows how you feel.
You scramble around to try and find words, to say anything through the high pitched whines he’s wrangling from you. So you just nod.
And right before you hit your high, he pauses. “Xavier, please.” You beg, tears trickling in the corners of your eyes.
“I waited a long time for this.” He pouts with his own wide eyes, rolling his hips into you, angry tip bullying your cervix.
“I know. I know. Please?” You beg. “Please don’t stop. Please-?”
Xavier grins, a soft laugh coming from his throat before he slings your legs over his shoulder. “Keep your eyes-“
“On you, yes, g-got it!” You whimper as it presses in deeper.
You get one last breath in before coherent thought leaves before it ever really settled back in your brain in the first place. He slams into you, your back arching but your eyes still on his.
You’re determined, but so is he. That knot builds up in your stomach. One you haven’t been acquainted with in a while. And then you’re leaving a creamy white ring around the base of his dick, and he’s pulled out, cumming pearly white ropes on your stomach.
You lie there, breaths trading places in rapid succession. He sinks back down onto his knees, catching his breath before he goes wanders his way into your adjacent bathroom.
You’ve barely come back to reality when he’s wiping his release off of your stomach, and pressing a damp towel between your thighs to clean you off, and then pulling you into his arms to whisper sweet apologies like he hasn’t just given you the best sex of your life.
“You were waiting for this?” You tease.
“My eyes were on you.” He murmurs, already half-asleep.
.
Your friend’s eyes all go bug-eyed when they meet up with you at your favorite café, interested to see who this “boyfriend” you’ve been buzzing about for two weeks is. Their eyes flip from Xavier to you, and you to Xavier.
“You’re dating the heir to the Shen corporation?”
You really should have asked more about Xavier’s family before this.
| We're going to ignore how bad this was. Okay? |
