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charles-leclerizz · 10 months ago

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🏎️ ๋࣭ ⭑Collecting shells

🏁 Pairings : Carlos Sainz X fem! Reader

🏁 Warnings : none! just fluffy times

🏁 Word Count : 4.4k words (4422 words)

🏁 Author's note : Ahaha, another one, this one is very self indulgent and I love it so much. Make sure to lilke and reblog (anything is appreciated, but comments and reblogs fuel this sad little writer). The word dividers this time are also from @plum98! Once again, all translations are available at the end, via our beloved radio comm! <3

🏁 Music player : Sofia by Alvaro Soler

“You look so pretty, hermosa!” Carlos exclaims, rushing up to the car from which you and a few of your friends were exiting, each of them parrying off to their respective boyfriends.

Kika to Pierre, who reached forward to grab her hand and kiss her knuckles, Alexandra to Charles, who wrapped his arms around her waist, lazily swaying the pair back and forth on their heels as they engaged in hushed, intimate conversation, Lily to Alex, who giggled like a small child as he saw her large sunhat almost fly off, courtesy of both the strong, yet pleasant ocean breeze and her own fast pace.

Finally, you and Carlos, who smiled fondly at your clumsy movements that caused your thin, cotton cover-up to slink up from your knees towards the tops of your thighs, before floating back down, “Carlito!” You bound up to him, jumping into his waiting arms and wrap your legs around his torso, tangling your limbs around his neck and underneath his unbuttoned shirt.

His laugh rumbles through his chest jovially, causing you to pick your head off his tanned shoulder to look him in his eyes, “Te ríes ahora, pero espera hasta que esto termine.” You tease him, bumping your noses together as his eyebrows raise at you albeit broken, yet improved Spanish, “Now, who said anything about you stopping your koala tendencies? I for one don’t mind,” He holds your waist tighter against his lower abdomen, keeping you fixed in pace with merely one arm as he bends down to collect the tweed beach bag that you had dropped in your pursuit of his embrace, before kissing you on the cheek and letting you down back onto the concrete parking space.

“Bro literally was about to drown me in the ocean,” Alex whispers to Lily, whilst pointing at the lovestruck Carlos who stood Infront of him. To prove his point, he removes his hat and shakes his salty hair, spraying the water all over his girlfriends’ bikini top as she shrieks airily, “Alex!”

“What, it’s true? I would’ve been the next finding Nemo if not for her arriving,” Alex jerks his head towards you as you intertwine your hand with Carlos’, who looks proud of his previous actions.

“I’m sure that you would have been a delicious fish,” Pierre walks over to Alex, who is tucking his wet, mop-like hair back underneath his hat. Kika snorts at the comments before she covers her mouth.

“Guys, can we please get a move on?” Charles complains, “the water looks great for some scuba diving right now,” Alexandra pats his shoulder supportively, albeit hesitant to join her companion on his sea adventures.

“Woah, hold on-“ You stop the bickering that had ensued between the men, arguing that they would not hurry up, for they did not want to plunge themselves into the bottomless pit that was the ocean.

“Nobody said shit, about scuba diving.” You clap your hands excitedly, much to Carlos’ disdain.

“Oh no, you are not doing it again- remember last time?” He reminds you, eyebrows furrowing as his full lips set into a thin, worry-stricken line.

“Last time was a freak accident!” You croon, moving your hand up from his wrist to his bicep as you jump in your spot.

Pierre snorts, “An accident? You didn’t surface for almost an hour and a half! We thought that the sharks had adopted you.”

“I would have made a great shark baby,” You huff, crossing your arms childishly and shutting your eyes tight in retaliation.

Though soon, you let up your act after hearing Alex badly whisper to the group, “The sharks would’ve been scared of her,”

“Fine, but nobody can stop me from taking home a turtle,” You stick your tongue out at the group, who look at you with amusement, for you had done this once. Taking home a live souvenir, that was not very happy to be in your innocent captivity.

“Si Hermosa, we will all let you bring back a turtle,” Carlos runs a placating hand through your hair, his fingers separating the smooth strands as you lean your head against his arm.

“Okay, less talking, more walking, please!” Kika dashes forward, stopping at the crooked wooden steps that lead to a quiet sector of the Amalfi coastline. She swoops her hands dramatically, ushering the group down towards the glistening sand and cycadellic water.

Carlos hums as the rest of your friends continue down in pairs, each of them engrossed in their own conversation, some more animated than the rest.

He leans down to press a kiss to your shoulder, allowing you to use his arm as an anchor as you attempt to hobble down the steps safely, not quite in the mood for concussion yet, you remind yourself.

“Isn’t it sweet that they planned this for our 4-year anniversary?” You sighed happily, grateful for your best friends’ actions.

It was a simple invite, since both you and Carlos grew tired of the same romantic candlelight dinners that could easily be procured at any moment, your friends had roped their significant others in an elaborate scheme to make this anniversary the best one yet.

“Sí, very sweet of them,” He squinted his eyes he kept his watchful gaze on the backs of his companion’s heads, snorting as all of them slowly begun to realise who steep the stairs really were, “Take my hand, Hermosa, I don’t want your falling,”

“Thank you Carlito,” You accepted his hand graciously, “But don’t you know that I’ve already fallen for you.” You deliver the cheesy pickup line with an equally grating wink and smirk, your cringe-worthy efforts are rewarded when Carlos blushes a ripe pink and clears his throat, “I would hope so, we’ve already been together for 4 years.”

“Ah shit!” Pierre shouts out horrendously just before a loud thud makes its way behind the group towards your ears.

“Pierre- fuck!” Soon Lily’s voice is also heard as another thump echoes from the wooden steps, and one by one, the entire group has tripped over each other’s missteps, leaving just you and Carlos, still hand in hand watching their demise.

“Are you guys alright?” Carlos leans forward to catch a glimpse of Kika, who’s head had made alarming contact with Alex’s shoulder. He confirms your position, making you promise not to move from your place before he travels further down towards the human dog pile of your friends.

“I hope nothing is broken,” You call out, cupping your hands over your mouth, you lean side to side, dodging your boyfriend’s bobbing body, trying to get a proper understanding of the position that they are in, “Guys, this is perfect orgy position. Honest to God,” You frame the mess with your hands, before cackling at each of their unimpressed faces.

“I just hope that my own dick is still attached,” Alex groans, instantly doubling over as he got to his feet, staring dirtily at Charles, who sheepishly apologised as he too bent down to help his girlfriend as she attempted to fix her hair and check her body for odd bruises.

“I thought we agreed no dick talk?” Kika reminded the man, reaching underneath her cover-up to throw away the sand that had collected in her swimsuit.

“I’ll be lucky if there is a dick to talk about,” Alex whines, standing straighter on the balls of his feet and stretching out his back.

“We’re almost their guys, just ignore the bruises,” Lily reminds them, beginning to continue the shorter descent down towards the promisingly bright, aquamarine sea.

Carlos hums in approval, checking everyone again before bouncing back up the staircase to your side once again, “Only a few more steps to go, Monada.” He assures you, keeping your elbow in a tight grip.

“I hope so, I just got my nails done,” You shakily exclaim, taking your boyfriends’ arm in your hand, “Why did you ask me to get them done anyway?”

“No reason, Monada,” He kisses your cheek, helping you climb down from the last step to sink your feet into the soft, inviting sand, “But they are pretty.” He examines your fingers closely, grinning happily at the navy blue, glossy coating that covers them. You shrug, content with his answer.

The afternoon sun has just peaked, gracing your group with its warm, yet harsh sun rays and many of you lay to bask in its luminescence. Well, some of you.

The boys had decided early on that they would spend most of the time in the water, whilst you and your girlfriends had opted to bask in the vitamin D overload, gushing about the easy tan that would appear. Though soon enough, one of the boys had escaped from the cool water, your Carlos.

He was the first to break away from his friends, paddling as much as he could to the coast, until the water could barely reach the middle of his chest and his feet hit the seabed, which is when he stood to his full height.

The sun beams reflected advantageously from the small, crystalline water droplets that fell from his skin and thanks to the force of gravity and weight of water, his swimming trunks had lowered enough that the defined V that started from his hips was exposed. He reached up, squinting against the blinding glow of the sand, to push his dripping, umber hair off his forehead.

Kika nudged in your ribs, causing you to gasp and slap you palm over the sharp pain that momentarily blossomed on your skin, “Kika!” You whine, annoyed at the interruption of your approaching nap. You maintain your tummy-down position merely twisting your face to look up at your friend from your spot on your striped cream and indigo beach towel.

You wait impatiently for her reasoning for how she could possibly justify waking you up from your sun-blessed haze, but instead, you watch as she pushes her ray-bans down her nose as she bites her lip and giggles whilst pointing at shore.

“What?” You enunciate while you push your upper body away from the ground, turning your neck uncomfortably to scan the sea, to understand why a rosy blush had graced Kika’s features, one that was not a painful sunburn.

“Stop lusting over my boyfriend,” You chuckle at her, weaponizing your book that lay peaking out of your crochet Prada Milano beach bag, hurling it at her arm.

“I’m not lusting,” She defends, laying back down on her own towel, flicking her sunglasses back onto her face, “I’m appreciating, I have my own European to lust over, thank you very much,” She pouts at the lack of companion at her side, slipping her headphones back over her ears.

“Yeah- tell the bit of drool on your face that”, you hesitantly dart your hand out from under the protective shade of your umbrella, retrieving your novel from her area, before sitting up facing the rising tide that playfully crawled up the sand, leaving its damp residue in the surface before retreating again. Your eyes rested on Carlos, who was smiling lopsidedly at your blushing face as he jogged the rest of the way up to you. Laying back, you support your upper body with your forearms as you slide on of your legs higher, bending your knee before oscillating it back and forth teasingly.

“Estás mirando, nena” Carlos grins cheekily whilst pulling up his swimming trunks, re-tying off the loosened drawstrings, he crouches down to plant a salty kiss on your lips before reaching behind you towards his own bag, extracting a towel to catch the rogue water droplets that fell from his body.

“¿Puedes culparme? Tú y tu cintura de cachonda.” Taking his hand in yours before pressing your lips against his skin before rubbing absent-mindedly on the back of his thumb with your own.

He laughed at your response, “Your Spanish is getting good bebe,” he complimented, grunting silently as he came lay down next to you and placea your head on his shoulder.

“Thank you,” You hummed, circling into his cool embrace by looping your hands around his neck and tangling your legs with his. He hums distractedly, slipping his fingers beneath the straps of your bikini top, fiddling with the flimsy material between his fingertips, you gasp at his teasing touches, biting down gently on the muscle that lay innnocently in front of your mouth, ripe for the attack.

You pull away from the nook between his arm and face to look at him, “¿Qué estás haciendo? Hm?” You push the floppy strands off his hair back from his eyes, bumping your nose with his. His lips jutted out as he slipped his head back into the crook of your neck, hand still confined in the straps of your swimsuit as he ghosted his fingers along your spine, snickering at the shiver that runs along your back.

“Nada, ¿qué te hace pensar que estoy haciendo algo?” His tongue darts out to lick at the sensitive skin behind your ear, “I like this set, when did you get it?” His other hand encircles your waist, brushing against the underside of your thigh, causing small goosebumps to rise in his wake.

“It’s new, got it just for today.” You hummed happily, scratching your freshly manicured nails down his sun-kissed back.

Carlos squeezes you tighter, yawning quietly as he leaves barely any space between the two of you, “Sleepy?” You ask, still petting his hair as you too became overcome with tranquillity. He nods his head in your embrace, merely nuzzling further into you, “Okay,” you confirm, allowing yourself to go limp with exhaustion in his arms.

“Fuck me, they’re cute,” You hear someone hissing in the back of your mind as you blink your eyes rapidly.

“Shut up Alex- you might wake them,” The voices become louder as you come to, yawning and attempting to stretch, you notice how Carlos is still sound asleep in your arms as small puffs of air escape his mouth.

A camera shutter goes off in the background, causing someone else from above you to yelp in surprise.

“Guys?” You croak, rubbing your eyes sleepily, “What are you doing,” You whisper, rolling over slightly to look at the half of the group that appeared in your field of sight.

“Nothing, nothing,” Charles assured you, shooting a warning glare at Alex and Pierre, who were snickering to themselves as they looked down at the polaroid camera in their hands.

“Okay,” you succumb to blissful unawareness, turning your attention back to your boyfriend who also began to stir out of his rest, “mi amor,” You murmur in his ear. He groans, keeping one hand planted on your waist as he turned away from you, allowing you to take in the entire scene of you friends standing above you.

Alex and Charles were whispering to one another as he fiddled with her hand unknowingly rotating the ring on her finger . Whilst Pierre, Alex, Lily and Kika were giggling with each other, Kika hanging off Pierre’s arm and Lily leaning her waist against Alex.

“What’s the time?” Carlos grumbled, sleep still riddled in his voice as he sat up straight, reaching for his water bottle as you tapped your phone screen.

“It hasn’t been long-“ You assure him, “It’s only 4pm,” You look up to the group, who have since came to sit around you and Carlos, in a lop-sided circle.

“What do you guys want to do now?” Alexandra asks, adjusting the sleeve of her crochet cover-up. Charles helps her and kisses the crown of her head.

“I know a whole pier street full of restaurants on the more popular side of the beach, we could go there?” Carlos offers, already starting to pack up his items in his bag whilst removing a pair of white shorts and a linen, long sleeve shirt.

“Sound good,” Lily hums, resting her head on Alex’s shoulder.

“Carlos-“ Pierre calls out, handing your boyfriend a small stack of polaroid pictures, who flips through the pictures curiously as a slow smile stretches across his face. He leans closer to you, showing you the photos of both you and Carlos entangled together, sound asleep.

The pictures are almost identical, with small changes in position from either him or you, with one his hands slipped beneath the sleeve of your bikini and the other resting on the curve of your back, whilst you had your arms wrapped around his neck protectively as you head rested on his arm.

“This has to be illegal in some way?” You comment, looking up and Kika and Pierre, who merely shrug in response, “Thank you guys, it’s a nice way of remembering our fourth anniversary.”

“What?” Charles exclaims, his green eyes wide with surprise.

“Our anniversary Charles?” Carlos arches his eyebrow at his friend, “I was telling you just yesterday!”

“Did anyone know?” You ask the group, only to be met with their confused expressions, except for Lily who nodded her head.

“I did, that’s why I suggested coming to Italy, to Alex,” She offers, looking accusatory at her boyfriend, who scratched the back of his head.

“I thought you just wanted to go to the beach with everyone.” He defends himself, holding his palms up with innocence.

“I literally bought them a gift when we went on holiday?” She says, surprised at her boyfriend’s air-headed-ness.

“You did?” You cooed, smiling happily and scrunching your nose at her consideration.

“Yeah, it’s a jar of heart shells, the ones that are native to the indo-pacific region,” She explain, reaching into her own bag and retrieving the large jar in question. In which almost 3 dozen shells sat, all of them varying sizes and colours with intricate designs, yet one similarity, was their unique heart shape.

“Heart cockles?” Kika speaks up, her interest piqued at the stunning shells that you and Carlos were still ogling at, “That’s so thoughtful Lily,” She praises her friend who just smiles bashfully and brushes of the rest of compliments she received from the group, saying that it was no biggie and that when she saw the gift, she knew it was perfect for the pair of you.

“They represent the saying ‘Cockle of my heart’ that means ‘to warm and gratify one's deepest feelings.” Pierre read out the meaning from his phone, looking at the shells once more, “They are perfect for you guys.” He notes.

“Thank you, Lily,” You say, tears springing to your eyes as you lean forward to capture her in a hug, “They’re amazing,”

“Don’t cry!” She exclaims, laughing, “It was really nothing,”

You sniffled, capturing Carlos’ hand in yours as you plant a kiss to his cheek, “I have a gift as well,” He whispers in your ear, cupping your cheek with his large palm.

“What?” You ask, curious at his impromptu gift.

“Close your eyes,” He orders you, holding your hands in his whilst rubbing the tops of you knuckles with his thumbs.

Your breath hitches as your eyes flutter shut, he flips your palm upwards, and the warmth of his hands leaves yours.

It takes all too long for the warmth to return, and when it does, a velvet box is also dropped into your hands.

“Carlos?” You whisper, lungs stuttering as your brain registers the only possibility of what was in the box, “Carlos- you’re not serious.” Your voice wobbles as you hear a few gasps titter around you after the box had snapped open and you felt Carlos’ fingers on your face.

“Abre los ojos, mi amor” he says, still caressing your cheek.

A strangled gasp leaves your mouth as you look down at the ring that sat nestled in the velvet box currently cradled in Carlos’ left hand, which was wrapped by yours.

It was truly magnificent, a thin gold band with eight cut diamonds, four on one side and four on the other side, positioned in a way to mimic leaves on a vine. And in the centre, as if it were a freshly blossomed rose, a large sapphire sat, deep set in the golden furnishings, the large Jem shimmered and shone in the sunset with a navy-blue hue.

“You’re shitting me right now Carlos, If this you-“

“Al menos déjame decir el discurso.” He interrupts your babbling as he smiles at your teary eyes and red nose.

“My love, today marks the fourth year since we had started dating, I still remember in vividly, not that you would let me forget.” His throat goes dry in the middle of his sentence, and you rub his arm comfortingly, coaxing him to continue, “It was probably the best day of my life, except for the day when I first saw you,”

Your eyes widened, “What?”

“I saw you first when we were exiting a restaurant in Monaco, it was late, and I was slightly tipsy,” He chuckles to himself, “And you were walking by the car that Charles was trying to stuff me into, you looked at me and laughed when Charles accidently rammed my head into the door. Estúpido Bastardo. It was love at first sight. I told him as well,” Carlos looks to his best friend, who was laughing quietly at the memory, “after you had offered us a bandaid from your small clutch and walked away into the resturant, I told him that ‘Charles, I just saw my future wife!’, he thought I was probably drunk out of my mind.”

He looks at you hopefully, tears beading on his long eyelashes, “I have been happily drunk in love with you since then and for the past 4 years, I hope you’ll let me make it last for eternity?” He finishes, eyes glimmering hopefully.

You cup your hands over your mouth, muffling your ecstatic sobs, you nod, sniffling obnoxiously, “Sí, sí, estaré borracho enamorado de ti para siempre.” You throw your arms around him, holding him close. He laughs jovially, wrapping his hands around your waist as he stands up, twirling you in the air before bringing you down, staring into your eyes like you had just hung the moon and stars.

“Te amo mucho” He whispers, inching his lips closer to yours until he could feel your breath against his.

“te quiero más” You murmur back, staring at him from below your eyelashes as you press your lips against his, pouring your love and devotion into your actions as you looped your arms around his neck. Deepening the kiss, you squeal against his mouth when you feel him dip you down, as though you two were in a movie and this was finally your happy ending.

Pulling away, he rested his forehead against yours as he slipped the expensive piece on your finger, a permanent grin etched into his face. Youo cup his face, peppering kisses all across his cheeks, his nose and forehead. Pulling away, you exclaim joyously to your friends, “Today marks the first day of me being Mrs. Sainz!” They clap loudly, some of them whisting as Carlos lifted your conjoined hands up victoriously and kissed you again.

Epilogue :

You and the rest of your friends had stopped momentarily at the BnB that you were renting at Sorento, to change before dinner. Meaning that the boys had cleaned up in mere moments, quickly stepping into and out of the shower, whereas the girls and you and spent over 40 minutes carefully shampooing, blow-drying, moisutrising, painting and dressing yourselves. All while gossiping with one another about the “ultra-romantic speech” that Carlos had said, as Kika liked to describe.

“I had no idea he remembered that” You murmured, pulling at the maxi dress from your bust. The dress reached your ankles as the skirt puffed out mystically and the corset top hugged your torso sweetly, all of this being held up by two thick pieces of fabric hanging on your shoulders, tied in large bows as well as the creamy base with light blue hydrangea’s decorating the entire body and straps daintily. It matched you ring quite nicely, as Alexandra had pointed out.

“I just hope that any one of our boyfriends remember such small details,” Lily remarks, smoothing out the long, black dress that hung from her waist, “I’m not holding out hope though,” She sighs, tilting her head as she watched you attempting to tighten the corset laces on your back.

“You shouldn’t worry, Alex loves you enough to remember this kind of stuff,” You assure her, laying a hand on your tummy as new butterflies erupt in your stomach as the realisation of the ring that sat on your hand slowly sets in, you blame it on Lily, who was tightening the corset top.

She looks at you in the long mirror, confirming the pressure before tying it off in a neat bow with your confirmation.

“Thanks,” She looks at you, grinning at your blissful flush and shimmering cheek bones, “I am so happy for you,” She coos and takes your hands in hers, “Just remember that I was the only one who remembered a gift.” She winks at you, kissing your cheek, before stepping around to adjust her mascara in the mirror.

Soon enough, a hesitant rap of knuckles on the door pauses the final movements of the girls, who were almost ready to leave. You walk up to the dark oak door, opening it slightly to be met with your boyf- nay, fiancé, who was looking down at his phone, scrolling through emails until you cleared your throat.

He looked up suddenly, smiling at you warmly, “You guys almost ready, amado?”

You nod your head, biting your lip as you lay your head against the edge of the door, staring deeply into his hazelnut eyes that softened with each second that they remained enraptured with yours, “Yeah, yeah we’re almost done,”

“Okay,” He laughed quietly, taking your hand in his as he leant down to kiss your lips, though you remembered the glossy artwork that lay, perfectly on your skin and so, you pulled away in the last second. Carlos grunted, falling forward slightly at your rejection, he looked at you, betrayed.

“My lipstick,” You offered, pointing at your lips as an explanation.

He rolled his eyes playfully, quickly pecking your lips, “Be quick.” Carlos reminded you, squeezing your hand and rubbing the large sapphire on your ring before he turned away, walking to the living room in which Pierre, Alex and Charles waited.

You let out a breath as you watched him retreat, but was soon snapped out of the romantic stupor when you heard Pierre screech, “Wait, so you didn’t know that he would propose, and you didn’t remember their anniversary?”

“No, I’m serious. Did you guys know?” Alex exclaimed.

Charles guffawed at his fellow driver “Yes!”

Pierre squawked “Yes!”

“Well obviously,” Carlos chimed in.

“That’s why we didn’t give them a gift?” Charles explained, “And Lily literally told Carlos about her’s?”

“Well shit! So you guys were acting? At the beach?” Alex shouted.

"Could you not, tell? Literally Alexandra and Charles wouldn't shut up about it, I was worried that she would hear." You heard the almost metallic sound of Pierre smacking the underside of Alex's head.

“It’s okay Alex, just remember to be more aware when it comes to your relationship.” You could hear the teasing smile in Carlos’ voice.

“Shut up you Spanish simp.” Alex pouted.

“Hey! I’m an engaged simp, unlike you.”

📻 Kcccchh.... come in.... come in...translatiion available...over

📻 Kchh...Spnish..to engli..sh....over

Hermosa - Beautiful Te ríes ahora, pero espera hasta que esto termine - You laugh now, but wait until this is over Monada - cutie Estás mirando, nena - You're looking, baby ¿Puedes culparme? Tú y tu cintura de cachonda. - Can you blame me? You and your slutty waist. ¿Qué estás haciendo? - What are you doing? Nada, ¿qué te hace pensar que estoy haciendo algo? - Nothing, what makes you think I'm doing anything? mi amor - My love Abre los ojos, mi amor - Open your eyes, my love Al menos déjame decir el discurso - At least let me say the speech Estúpido Bastardo - Stupid bastard Sí, sí, estaré borracho enamorado de ti para siempre. - Yes, yes, I will be drunk in love with you forever. te quiero más - I love you more Te amo mucho - I love you a lot amado - Beloved

📻 Kchhhhh.loosing sign....al.....kcchh....over and out...

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girlkisser13 · 5 months ago

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poseidon cabin headcanons

children of poseidon

• none of them eat sea food because they're allergic to it.

• their state of mind changes constantly, just like the ocean. they can go from calm to rowdy to focused to distracted in a matter of seconds.

• due to the ocean's unpredictability and changing nature, every poseidon child is slightly different than their siblings. some can have calmer, gentler natures while some can be downright unpredictable and terrifying.

• their body temperature changes depending on how warm or cool the nearest ocean to them is.

• they prefer savory foods over sweet.

• eating food with a lot of oil makes them sick. (because water and oil don’t mix).

• they like to collect anything in their father's territory (pearls, corals, shells, etc.).

• their favorite snacks are goldfish, swedish fish, whale crackers, gummy sharks, and any other ocean creature shaped crackers or candies.

• they can communicate by putting folded or rolled up paper into a bottle and letting the waves carry it to its intended recipient.

• some of them help out with at the infirmary since they can heal people with water.

• since skateboarding was invented by surfers, children of poseidon can pick up skateboarding just as easily as surfing.

• some of them can teleport using water, in a similar way with shadow travel.

• if they use a lot of energy, they can cross an entire ocean but they'll probably pass out after.

• the sound of ocean waves are a calming sound to them and the sound helps them sleep at night.

• they all live in a state or country that is exposed to the ocean.

• they all have wavy hair. the hair type varies from child to child.

• they are all flat-footed because it aids them greatly in swimming.

cabin exterior

• their cabin is adorned with various nautical elements such as anchors, shells, and seaweed motifs carved into the walls and pillars.

• they have seashell wind chimes hanging from the eaves outside of their cabin.

• they also have driftwood sculptures and nets hung with seaglass and polished stones.

• the entrance is flanked by columns resembling coral formations, intricately carved with sea motifs.

• they have statues of sea creatures at the entrance of their cabin that come to life when their cabin is under threat.

cabin interior

• the cabin is decorated with ship wheels, anchors, ropes, and lanterns. the beds in the cabin resemble hammocks or ship bunks.

• there are no windows in the cabin, only open spaces to allow natural light in. this maintains the airy and open feel of the cabin.

• there are murals of sea creatures, waves, and underwater scenes. shells and starfish are embedded in the walls and ceiling.

• the lighting in the cabin resemble bioluminescent sea creatures, casting a gentle, otherworldly glow. at night, the room might look like an underwater scene with soft, moving lights resembling schools of fish.

• they have a magical, interactive map that shows the locations of any and all bodies of water in the world. it can highlight areas of significance, like recent sea monster sightings or sunken treasure locations.

cabin traditions

• dunking their heads in the toilet has become their acceptance ritual. the campers basically do it to honour/laugh at percy, but instead of an actual toilet, they just dunk them in a basin of water.

• they have a wall where every kid of poseidon has scratched their name, beginning with percy, so that when there is another occasion in which there is only one camper, they don't have to feel alone.

• before world war ii, they had an initiation where they would send their new siblings into the ocean. they had to retrieve a seashell from as far beneath the ocean as possible. they have a wall in their cabin dedicated to these shells.

divider by @sseuda

#percy jackson and the olympians #heroes of olympus #pjo #hoo #pjo hoo toa #pjo fandom #hoo fandom #pjo series #hoo series #pjo tv show #pjo disney+#pjo cabins #poseidon #neptune #poseidon cabin #cabin three #cabin 3 #children of poseidon

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pink-horizon · 1 year ago

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🐚 ' 𝗆𝗒 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝗆𝗂𝗇𝖾 𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗆𝗂𝗇𝖾

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boxofbonesfic · 1 year ago

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Title: 𝙳𝚘𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚕𝚐ä𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛 [5]

Pairing: Dark!Ransom x Reader, Lloyd Hansen x Reader

Summary: Your husband’s twin brother has always made you uncomfortable, and after two years of marriage, you finally find out why.

Warnings: Obsessive Behavior, Possessive Behavior, Stalking, Kidnapping, Basement-wife, Gaslighting, Manipulation, Breeding kink, Smut, Darkfic, Dead Dove: Do not eat!

Word Count: 3,761

A/N: i cannot wait to see what you all think of this latest development! please drop by my ask with thoughts or comments, and as always, thanks everyone for your patience! ❤️ divider by @firefly-graphics

To your absolute horror, Lloyd doesn’t stop. You’re dizzy, both from the realization and the even, steady grind of his hips. It’s terribly familiar, the way he touches you—like it’s not the first time. Your stomach rolls as an anguished wail tears from your lips at the thought, because it’s the same one you’ve been shoving down, burying underneath every single other thing you can think of, because it couldn’t be true. Ransom wouldn’t do that you, he wouldn’t—

But he has.

Lloyd clucks his tongue at you, and reaches forward to cup your face. “You can scream, Princess.” He grins. “I know you can’t keep quiet anyway.” His words turn your stomach. Your arms, previously paralyzed at your sides, come up to push frantically at his face and chest as you curse.

“Get the fuck off me, Lloyd!” You scream, but he doesn’t move—doesn’t even falter as he continues to rut into your shamefully wet cunt. He doesn’t budge, like your blows don’t even hurt. It makes you even more panicked, your eyes growing wide as you sob. Frantically, you scream for your husband, your voice swallowed by the crashing surf.

“Ransom—! Ran—” Lloyd silences you with a kiss, swallowing your fear as he presses his lips to yours. Your shock allows him entry, sweeping his tongue into your mouth as you squirm beneath him. Lloyd catches your arms easily, forcing them back against the rock behind you.

“What’s the worst part, Princess?” He asks mockingly, his amused chuckle puffing against your lips. “That it’s me? Or that you liked it? That you always liked it?” You don’t want it to be true, shaking your head as you stare at him with tear-filled eyes. He nods in response, as slow and deliberate as his thrusts. Your stomach churns with the combination of this forbidden knowledge and the unwanted pleasure that creeps up your spine.

He knows your body, that much is obvious. You don’t know how you didn’t see it before, a hundred thousand puzzle pieces falling perfectly into place as your life crumbles around them. Lloyd holds you like Ransom, kisses you like Ransom—

Or does Ransom kiss you like Lloyd?

He plays your body perfectly, like you’re an instrument he’s already mastered. Even as your head swims, the thick weight of his cock drawing pleasure from you even as you fight against it. You can hear it, how wet you are, how much your traitorous body is enjoying Lloyd. It’s maddening, the way you clench and quake beneath him, struggling ineffectually against pleasure you don’t want. He transfers both your wrists to one hand, using the other to cup your chin.

“It’s really not as bad as you think,” he coos, dragging his thumb through your tears. He kisses you again, painfully softly. “I know what you like.” Lloyd’s fingers taste like the sea as he draws them across your trembling lips. “I know what you hate.” He traces circles around your puffy nipples, before painting stripes of salt-water down your belly. He spreads your lips wider with two fingers and draws those same circles around your clit.

“I hate you!” You grit through clenched teeth, through your furious, shameful tears. Lloyd clucks his tongue, before leaning down to nose at the skin of your throat.

“No you don’t, Princess. You love Ransom—so you love me. We’re the same, baby-doll.” He leans up, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. “Don’t you get that yet?” You don’t want it to be true, it can’t be, they’re so different—but even as you think it, you know he’s not lying. You’re reeling, the stretch-burn, the raw pleasure of him inside you, the knowledge that he’s been there before—

You wail as you cum, staring unseeingly at the sky. Lloyd doesn’t even give you the courtesy of slowing down, instead fucking you steadily through it with his cock and fingers buried in your cunt. He carries you, unwilling, from one height to the next, twitching and pleading. When he finally pulls his fingers from your soaked folds, he sucks them clean.

“Love you so much, Princess,” he groans, rocking his hips steadily into yours as you mewl miserably. “I can wait for you to know you love me too.” His fingers press the skin of your hips like Ransom’s. Lloyd sucks your bottom lip, worrying it between his teeth with a growl. He holds you still while he empties into you. As he pants against your mouth, he grins.

“Feels good not to have to pretend.”

“Get off me.” You hiss at him, glaring at him with red-rimmed eyes. This time, he listens. He pulls out of you with an appreciative hum, stopping briefly to admire the slick, sticky mess he’s made. You pull your swimsuit down roughly, tugging your shirt tightly around yourself like a shield while you grab your now soaked shorts from the water, and begin to struggle into them.

“Let me—”

“Don’t fucking touch me!” You shriek, jumping further backwards into the surf. You slip on the rocks, barely remaining upright as you scramble away. “Y-you don’t touch me!” You brandish a slick rock in your hand as threateningly as you can. “I—I’m going to tell Ransom, an-and—”

The look he gives you is almost pitying. “Oh Princess. Go on and tell him.” He nods at you with a sick smile. “Tell me what he says.” Lloyd holds his hands up as you retreat, giving him as wide a berth as you an as you circle back to shore. He doesn’t follow you, watching as you stumble across the sand. You head into the trees and underbrush ringing the beach, fleeing your brother-in-law’s gaze. You know the general direction of the hotel, and you head that way, opting not to go back to the party.

The party. Your stomach turns as you think of it now, Linda’s words holding fresh meaning now. Did she know? Did Ransom? The entire idea was so ludicrous you could scarcely believe it was really happening—but it was. It had. The evidence of Lloyd’s transgression was smeared between your salt-stained thighs. You want to vomit, and so you do, leaning against a tree as you heave into the sand.

“Sweetheart?”

You look up, your eyes wild. It’s Ransom—or Lloyd. You don’t know, now, torn between wanting to rush into his arms, or turn and run. You simply stare at him distrustfully, mirroring his step forward with one back, maintaining the distance between you with careful precision.

“Baby, what’s wrong? You just wandered off, and—”

“Are you Lloyd?” You ask sharply, swallowing the desire to respond to his concern. You can’t trust your own eyes now, not anymore, and you don’t want to get close enough to verify.

Ransom stares at you confusedly.

“No? Why would you ask me that? Did something happen?” He takes another step closer, his arms outstretched placatingly. There’s true worry on his face as he takes in your wretched state, your open shirt and wet shorts, dirty feet and missing shoes. “Baby, did something happen?” He asks again, slower and more deliberate. You want to believe him, this man wearing your husband’s wedding ring, staring at you with the same eyes as the man you’d run away from.

“Tell me something about the fountain.”

“The what?”

“The fountain!” You shrill hoarsely. “The fountain, from—”

“The one in the village,” Ransom finishes. “With the messed up tiles.”

This time, you can’t stop yourself from rushing into his arms, sobbing.

“I—Lloyd, he—” The words won’t come out between your hiccoughing sobs, and you settle for burying your face in his chest as Ransom wraps his arms around you. He holds you tightly, pressing you to his body as you wail. The truth sticks in your throat like taffy as you tangle your fingers in his shirt, tears soaking into the expensive fabric.

“It’s okay, Sweetheart.” His voice is soothing. “I’m here. I got you, okay? I got you.” He doesn’t rush you, waiting until the tears slow to press a kiss into your hair. “You don’t have to talk right now. Let’s get you back to the room, okay?”

Ransom practically carries you through the underbrush, emerging near the long stairwell up from the beach. Your family—and his—are still down at the party, but you barely spare them a glance as you stagger up the sandy concrete steps. Before long, the ringing in your ears blocks out the music anyway, and all you can think about is Lloyd’s response to your threat.

Go on and tell him. Tell me what he says.

Lloyd is nowhere to be seen as you enter the villa, and you release a breath you didn’t know you were holding. You didn’t even realize you’d been watching for him, waiting for him to appear like he always did—but he doesn’t. You’re relieved as Ransom leads you back into the bedroom and closes the door behind you. For a moment, you’re not sure what to do with yourself, standing blankly by the door while Ransom watches you helplessly.

“Sweetheart… can you tell me?” He asks, resting his hands on your shoulders. You flinch at his touch instead of leaning into it, and pain flashes briefly across your face. Somehow, you are hesitant to name the shape of the monster that haunts you even now, like Lloyd had cursed your jaw to stick. With difficulty, your force it open.

“He—he pretended… he was you. And… we… I didn’t know, Ran, I didn’t know it wasn’t you,” you babble, tears forming in your red, glassy eyes. You’re expecting to see his face crease with disgust at the part you won’t say out loud, but it doesn’t. Ransom’s silent, his face scrunching first with disappointment and then anger. You can tell he’s looking for an outlet, and he settles on routine.

“Did you take your vitamins, Sweetheart?” He replies, a worried hand on your belly. “Does anything… hurt?” You shake your head.

“N-no.” Ransom turns to the dresser, grabbing the bottles and shaking out your pills one by one. You take them, shuffling into the suite’s bathroom. You a cup cool water from the faucet and bring it to your lips, swallowing them down with a grimace.

“Let’s get you a bath, Baby.”

You nod wordlessly.

Ransom helps you get undressed, and you watch his jaw tic at Lloyd’s drying cum on your thighs. He fills the whirlpool tub with hot water, and you shift uncomfortably from foot to foot as you watch him. When it’s full, he helps you into it before splashing into the water himself. He sits on the back side of the tub with you between his knees, reaching down to hold you as you sink into the water.

You lean back against your husband, fresh tears pooling in the corners of your eyes. I want to wake up now. There’s little you wouldn’t give to open your eyes and find yourself on the beach, this terrible nightmare broken. But when you do open your eyes, you’re still in the bathroom, your husband’s hands rubbing soothing circles into your skin as you wash away the evidence of his brother’s sin.

“Oh Sweetheart. I’m so sorry. I… I don’t know what to say.” He strokes your hair as he speaks to you softly, gently, like he’s soothing an animal. “Lloyd’s a lot of things. Impatient, being chiefest among them.” You freeze, the air seeming to flow right out of your lungs—out of the whole room. The dripping of the faucet is as loud as thunder.

“W-what?”

“I didn’t want you to find out like this, Sweetheart, believe me.” You wrench yourself away from him, water sloshing over the sides of the tub as you stare at your husband in disbelief. It feels like reality is crumbling to nothing as you watch, bleached into dust by the brightness of his sad smile. It’s all you can see.

“N-no, no no no no—” He reaches for you, and you slap his had away, tripping as you scramble out of the tub. “You knew.” You moan, bile rising in your throat as you wrap a towel around yourself. “You—you always knew.” Ransom rises from the lip of the tub and steps out onto the tile. You want to vomit, but there’s nothing left to bring up as you dry-heave into the sink.

“Sweetheart, I need you to calm down, this stress isn’t good for the baby.”

“The baby—” You let out a despairing little laugh. “How long, Ransom?” You ask him hoarsely. “How long have you been letting this happen?” Finally, your husband has the decency to look ashamed.

“Does it matter?”

“Yes!” You scream, pounding a fist against the counter. “Yes it fucking matters!”

“I think before New Years, last year.”

“A—a year?” You choke out the words as you clutch your belly with a shaking hand. The baby—you don’t even know if it’s Ransom’s. You feel dirty, despite having bathed. Deeper than your skin, like something inside is tainted, rotten. You want to crawl out of it, leave it behind like a shell. Perhaps then you might be able to draw enough air into your tight lungs to be able to do more than sputter your husband’s words back at him in abject disbelief.

You don’t want to relive the last year and a half but you can’t help it, flipping through the moments like flash cards as you try to pinpoint every transgression, every lie. For every possible memory that feels wrong, there are dozens of blank spaces, empty places where recollection should be. Your husband had poked his finger through the thin saran wrap of your memories, and you hadn’t even realized it was happening.

Ransom reaches forward to rest a hand on your back and you shove him so hard he stumbles, your eyes wild.

“Don’t touch me. You—you will never touch me again.” You hiss, the words ragged. Ransom scowls at you as you storm out of the bathroom, the towel still clutched against your heaving chest. You can barely hear anything over the sound of your own ragged breathing and the thundering of your heart. They’d been switching off for over a year, and you hadn’t even noticed. Sickness and shame twine in your gut as you snatch the clothes in the closet off their hangers, throwing them into your open suitcase without bothering to fold them.

“Sweetheart, don’t be rash. The baby—”

“Will not even know your name.” You don’t look at Ransom—you can’t. You feel like you don’t even know him, and you can’t help but wonder if you ever did. He’d known—hell, maybe he’d even participated in Lloyd’s sick games. The man you’d thought you married would never have stood for that. You grit your teeth as Ransom scoffs amusedly behind you.

“You’re just going to pack your suitcase and go, is that it?” There’s a cruel edge to his voice you don’t recognize—it makes him sound like Lloyd. “Baby I’m just trying to give you what you want.” You glare at him over your shoulder before returning to packing, refusing to even entertain the discussion. You push past him to get to the dresser, pulling out the rest of your things.

“You’re not thinking clearly, and I think if you really stopped and gave it some thought, you’d realize you’re making a mistake.”

“Oh, I’m the one making the mistake?” You can’t help but turn to spit venom over your shoulder. “You and your brother took turns on me like a fucking carnival ride, but I’m making a mistake?”

“You wanted a big family, a stable family. One nobody could touch—”

“You’re sick.” You swallow against the bitter acid in your throat. “How can you try to make this okay? I—I never want to see you again. Ever. I—I really, truly mean that.” The needle inside you continues to swing between rage and abject horror as you dress yourself, practically shoving your limbs into the most convenient pair of shorts and a t-shirt. Your head buzzes with the turmoil of it all, practically full to bursting. Your passport is still in the bedside table, and you make sure you grab it, shoving it into your pocket before throwing open the bedroom door.

It’s hard to breathe around the ache in your chest as you drag your heavy suitcase down the hallway, trying to ignore the sound of your husband behind you. You’re bordering on hysteria, frantic tears and snot running down your face as you flee your husband’s placating words. That’s probably the most maddening part of it—how he continues to parse out the words slowly, patiently, like he’s waiting for you to realize how sensible he’s being. You’re about ten seconds away from clapping your hands over your ears like a child, so you don’t have to hear him anymore

“Sweetheart, let’s talk about this.” Ransom calls after you. You stagger against the wall as your knees tremble, but you force yourself through it. Your heart is beating wildly, your palms clammy as you look back at your husband. You don’t expect to see him smiling. “You’re not being rational, baby.”

You don’t even know how to respond. The only words that seem to come to mind are insults, curses; the violent ills you’re currently wishing on your husband and his family. You can’t listen to him—it’s only going to make you more enraged. You already feel like your heart is about to beat out of your chest, as you gulp down ragged breaths, your vision swimming. You rest a hand against the kitchen island, your whole body throbbing hotly with your pulse.

“Shut the fuck up, Ransom,” you pant. “You can’t spin this.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that.” He ignores your acid glare, leaning forward to curl a lock of your hair around his finger. You push him away, but the movement is clumsy, your hand swinging bonelessly at the end of your arm. “You know how persuasive I can be.”

“You’re really just like him.” It slips out before you can stop it as you shake your head in astonishment.

“Oh what, you just figure that out?” Ransom’s voice is mockingly soft. “It took you long enough.”

You slap him.

The sound of it is loud and sharp, and Ransom’s head actually turns with the force of it, your husband stumbling back a few steps. It was his surprise that had allowed it—you and Ransom had never struck each other, not counting the playful smacks he delivered in the bedroom. For a moment he stays like that, frozen, before slowly turning to look at you. Your wedding ring had split his lip, and you watch as he draws his thumb across it smearing the bright line of crimson across his mouth.

“You’re starting to piss me off, Sweetheart.” His hand clamps so tightly around your wrist that it hurts, and you yelp, pushing uselessly at his chest. Ransom had never been violent with you, never even given you reason to suspect he would raise a hand to you, but as he bends you over the kitchen island, you feel fear. Your husband twists your arms behind your back, ignoring your pained whimper when he squeezes too tight.

This—this isn’t happening. It’s not. My family is here, my, my father—

You wail, the sound muffled by the marble countertop and your tears, salt and snot running onto the counter beneath your cheek.

“Just let me go, Ransom—”

“Oh Baby we are way past that.” The kiss he presses into your hair makes nausea churn in your belly, and you let out another sob. “I put a ring on that—where’s your finger, baby, let me see—ah! There it is.” Ransom holds your hand up, his fingers digging into the meat of your palm. “On that finger,” he continues, tapping the diamond with his fingernail. “Till death do us part, Sweetheart, that’s what we said. That’s what you promised me—and Lloyd.”

“You’re crazy—” The words stick in your throat as your vision tunnels. I feel sick. You do, your stomach churning as your heartbeat thunders in your ringing ears.

“Wha-you do’t me?” The words are like bubblegum in your mouth as your husband chuckles softly.

“You didn’t really think those were all vitamins, did you?” Your eyes widen with horror as you begin to struggle again, flailing your uncoordinated limbs as you try to force Ransom off of you. “Now don’t worry, it’s nothing that could hurt the baby,” he says reassuringly, as if that is your only cause for concern.

“Noo,” you moan, wriggling feebly beneath him as you feel yourself recede further and further into your body. “Don’ wannit.”

“I know, Sweetheart. But what you want isn’t good for the family,” he says, stroking a gentle finger over the curve of your cheek. “You want to run, too run from what we’re trying to build with you. For you,” Ransom releases you as the sound of nearby voices reach your buzzing ears. “I’m not going to let that happen.”

He steps away from you as Nathalie bursts through the door, holding a champagne bottle by the neck as she dances to music blaring from her phone speakers.

“There you are, chica, we were looking—mom! Dad! She’s in here! I thought you—are you okay?” She sets the bottle down on the small table to the right of the sliding door. She rushes over to you, looping one limp arm around your shoulders as concern sets into the lines of her face. “Jesus, I—Ransom! What’s wrong with her?!”

Your husband appears in your tunnel-vision, carding a worried hand through his hair.

“Thank fucking Christ, Nathalie—I was just going to text you. I think she’s having a reaction to something, I don’t know—”

“Nn-Nat don-bel—eev ‘m,” your warning slurs together into an unintelligible soup as your head lolls. Nathalie tries to stand you up against the counter, and dimly you are aware of her calling for your parents, her voice muffled like she’s talking underwater.

Lloyd—or is it Ransom?—lays you down on the countertop, his grinning face looming over you as your vision narrows down to a pinprick, the concern in his voice at complete odds with the grin on his face.

“Don’t worry. We’ll take care of you.”

to be continued…

next chapter

Thank you for reading! Please check out my masterlist for other, similar works, and follow my library blog, @box-of-bones-library for updates. ❤️

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grandisknight · 2 months ago

Text

to wish upon a star

summary: Xavier gifts you a token of his affection, paired with promises to fulfill whatever you wish upon him.

tags: nsfw (mdni), established relationship, afab!reader, fluff (at first), kissing, feelings, crying, banter, teasing, body worship, eventual smut, pwp, breast play, improper use of light evol, consent checks, ring play, v fingering, mirror sex, dirty talk, finger sucking, handjob, p in v, creampie, ‘i love you,’ implied/referenced sex

+ wc: 7.6k | ao3 version

notes: inspired by the affinity 100 rings! i started this when i got said rings with xavier like… last month… oops. let’s pretend their promise rings are actually On their ring fingers 🤫 (in-game they’re on the middle ones…) this is like honestly 90% smut and 10% feelings so take that as you will! also song cameo is ‘must be love’ by laufey c:

dividers from cafekitsune

“I can’t believe you pulled this off,” you spoke in awe to Xavier.

When he had mentioned needing your hand measurements before, you were sure it was for your worn-out combat gloves that had seen better days. It seemed natural, largely due in part to a passing conversation from just days ago. He heard out your concerns then, and agreed it’d be best to invest in a new pair.

But now, there was a silver metal wrapped perfectly around your finger in its place. Surreal, it shined with every angle of your admiring hand. Delicate jewels inlaid all around to meet at the central place, a dazzling shooting star. Everything about it was a perfect capsule of him. It was now a piece of you too, a promise to the twinkling cosmos that sealed your affection.

Xavier’s hand clasped over yours, his own band glinting just the same and lightly clinking at the contact. His star pressed to the engraving of the smaller equal, a completed puzzle that only the two of you held the pieces to. “Now whenever you wish upon a star, you can look here.”

His fingers quietly thread into your counterpart, bringing them to his lips and a gentle kiss graced your knuckles. Peering through his lashes, the kind pools of blue searched yours, reflecting a sea of stars that found their home in you.

“Are you saying I can’t ask this star of mine for a wish anymore?” A lighthearted remark was all that it was, but you still caught the surprise in his eyes at the sound of it.

They soon settled into crescents, a small smile pulling at his lips. “No. This star will always, always be the first to hear your wishes.”

Such an earnestness in his honest confession pulled at your heartstrings, eliciting yet another awe from you and a chuckle in his place. Xavier angled your hands, lips brushing over the band to prove his words. “Make a wish now, and I’m sure it’ll be granted.”

“Really?” You pull your hand away, only to cup his jaw in beckoning. “I wish upon my star for him to kiss me right now.”

He lets out a lofty sigh then, the tip of his nose meeting yours in proximity. “Your wish is my command.”

Xavier’s lips tenderly pressed into yours, the plush pillows melting almost immediately upon contact. A hint of warm vanilla and honey tinted his kiss, lingering traces of the milk tea from earlier fragrant all throughout. It was slow, practiced and careful—to admire the love he had waited eons for, sealing the reality he had once thought would be a far away dream.

No sooner did he quietly ask for permission for something more, tongue ardently pushing against yours. It was granted with a simple parting of your lips and a tilt of the head, more than happy to oblige. Xavier took greater care to memorize you then, tracing the contours of your canines and sucking in the warmth you returned to him. A low moan passed from his throat and into yours, his hands searching for your waist in an effort to draw you closer.

Parting for a moment of breath, you gently thumb at his cheek and realize how flushed his skin had become. Rosy from the shell of his ear, spreading across the skin just below his fluttering lashes and sinking into the lines of his neck—if you didn’t know any better, you would’ve thought he just came home from an intensive workout, the poor thing.

You could only snicker at the way he blindly chased for your missing lips, causing him to finally peel open what was a lidded gaze of disappointment and pause.

“Someone’s impatient,” you muse. Your forehead meets his and a whisper of his breath tickles your face as he huffs lightly.

“And someone is the reason behind it,” Xavier points out.

The moment was calm, only the soft puffs of breath and thudding hearts echoed through the space you shared. His fingers dimple into the plush of your sides in an off-beat pattern, a quiet hum of notes resonating from his throat. Arms wrapped around his neck, the two of you began to slowly sway to a gentle melody. Occasionally, Xavier would swap out the notes for a mumbling of the lyrics—

I’m all in, I’m fallin’… Can’t get back up… Can’t think right, too tongue-tied… It must be love…

Padded footsteps attempted to follow such a tune, your bodies soon naturally flowing with time and dancing amidst the comforts of his living room. Your muscle memory led to a simple one-two step of a waltz once put to use from a mission of the past. And while practice did not make perfect, it aged in the progress you’ve made since then, now well attuned to his footsteps and his to yours. You found yourself resting your cheek against the square of his chest, humbly feeling each vibrato of his song.

“By the way.” Xavier suddenly speaks up, the soft notes coming to a halt.

He watches as you look to meet his gaze, and oh, you were truly beautiful. The light of his life—undeniably he was enamored, a lost cause and irrevocably yours. Not like he would have it any other way, and a skip in his heart’s beat proves to him just as much. He nearly forgets the words he wanted to relay to you, stunning him into silence the longer he looked at you. A hand brushes a strand of your hand to rest neatly behind your ear, moving to your chin and tilting to meet his lips in a quick kiss.

Reminding himself, reminding you.

“Mm?” You mumbled against him, though made no effort to protest and returned the peck in affection. A series of blinks met your gaze when you pulled back, fluttering glimpses of a curious blue drinking you whole.

“Using your Xavier cipher again? What could it be…” Your lips pursed in thought, and he could only press yet another quick kiss at the endearing sight.

His voice lowers in a request that holds your breath in anticipation. “You’re also my shooting star. Won’t you grant me a wish?”

———

Time blurred itself into a dizzying sequence that landed yourselves in the dip of his comforters, hands unabashedly making quick work of your clothes and his. Somewhere, someplace were the mixed fabrics—in a pile saved for a later time to deal with. Here, the thin layers of your undergarments were the only barriers to complete entry of enveloping each other in bare warmth.

A light sheen of sweat speckled your skin, fingers gripping his shoulders and a huff pushing past your lips. You squirmed beneath him, his larger frame bracketing yours as he added yet another flower of red to decorate your neck. A kiss of consolation fluttered over the newfound mark, and Xavier dragged his lips to the centerpiece of your collarbone.

“Xavier.”

“Mm?”

He looked up at you then, azure stared lost in the cloudiness of his desires. His calming beauty had shifted into something sharper, keenly observing the ways he could devour you whole. A stark contrast to the bright, cheerful twinkle from just moments ago. It hammered your heart into a thundering pace, and Xavier could tell.

His lips curled then, slowly kissing his way down your sternum, stopping just above the place that exposed your flustered state. Hands smoothed themselves from your sides down to the high of your thighs, parting them deftly to slot himself between the newfound space. Soft massages of his fingers melted into your skin, patiently waiting for you to continue.

“Do you want to stop? We don’t have to do anything you don’t want,” Xavier reminds you. A tentative peck places itself between your breasts, before his chin lightly rests upon it.

“No, we can keep going.” You reach to rake fingers through his silver locks, brushing the soft parting away in revealing his furrowed brow. A thumb traces the thin hairs to smooth the tension, working instantly as they settled and you hummed. “You never said what your wish was. How am I supposed to grant it if you don’t tell me?”

“It’s you,” he simply responds. Speaking as if it was a universal truth and the most obvious thing in the world, not a hint of doubt behind his conviction.

“Me?” Now you were confused by a mere two words. Pulling your hand back, your arms slid to prop themselves as you gave him an incredulous look. “Yeah, I’ll grant your wish if that’s what you’re saying. So spill the beans already.”

Xavier shakes his head, a faint laugh passing through his breath. “You’re my wish. Everything about you,” he starts, a gentle kiss pressing to your sternum once more.

“From the way you laugh at the videos you show me, and to the smile on your face after we complete a trial.” Another press of his lips moves down, a peppered trail soon making its way to your navel. “Even your sassy remarks during cards, passionate energy when we play the claw machine and sad moments alike when we leave empty-handed.”

One of his hands sneak up to squeeze your side, gingerly massaging the plush skin. His mouth lingers longer here, inhaling your warmth and nose nudging into your abdomen. “My wish is you, always has been. All you have to do is be yourself, and allow me the honor to stay by your side.”

You’re not sure what good deed you must have accomplished in your previous life, but you were more than grateful that it led you to this very moment. And the overwhelm of such an awareness had your eyes burning and sight blurred to sudden tears—great, you were crying. The atmosphere had quickly sobered into something more raw, subsiding the heat of the moment.

“Oh, my sweet girl,” Xavier coos, eyes of love searching yours in realization.

That alone had your bottom lip trembling, furthering the waterworks at his kindness. Swiftly but gently did he lean forward to capture your tears between his puckered lips, kissing them away. A hand cradled your jaw with every little weep that paired your breaths.

You reached for his face then, taking hold of his surprised cheeks before pressing those very lips to your own. It was a measly attempt of a kiss, one to quell your emotional heart and to reign in all your focus on your lover—but he returned it all the same, tender and careful pecks falling into the smile that melted into you entirely.

“You’re an idiot.” You sniffled, pulling away with a slight pout to defend your disposition. He could only chuckle at the poor name-calling.

“I thought I was your sulking, jealous dummy,” Xavier teases, lightly rubbing his nose against yours. “And you said that was your favorite kind. Now you take me as an idiot?”

“You can be both,” you reason, stroking the apples of his cheek in turn. Your eyes flick towards the metal resting on your finger, and you tap it against his face in thought. “Lucky for me, those versions of you are mine.”

“All versions of me belong to you. Every part of me is yours.” He raises his own ringed hand, cupping it against yours. “You’re the only star I could ever need in this vast universe.”

“That really makes us a pair of shooting stars then.”

A flash of astonishment spreads across his features before it’s soon blinked away, replaced with sentimental adoration and a relaxed expression. “You’re right,” he hums.

He takes your hand and presses the ring to his lips—a new habit that he’ll have a hard time breaking, it seems—before trailing down your forearm and making his way to your shoulder. It left you feeling ticklish, and you squirmed as much by the time he made his way to your ear.

“Is something funny?” Xavier’s warm breath blew past the shell of your ear then, earning him a delightful squeal from you in turn.

“Ack! Don’t do that, it tickles!” You attempted to widen the distance between your now closely pressed bodies, feeling embarrassed at the proximity. It was to no avail when you had one of the greatest Deepspace Hunters leaning over you, encapsulating your body beneath his with such practiced and natural ease.

“Hm? What did I do?” He asked innocently, before knowingly blowing another puff of air and chuckling at the sight. “You’re so sensitive, and I’ve barely done a thing.”

The words were lodged in your throat when you felt something hotter welcome itself over your ear. Xavier’s tongue traced the curves of your helix down to your lobe in a circular pattern, leaving a lasting impression of his warmth behind. His teeth catch the end of your ear, a gentle yet foreboding nibble sinking in and pulled away with a tug.

It took all of your fighting spirit to put some air back into your lungs, and the look you gave him matched it. “Xavier, you know what you’re doing.” Though you didn’t particularly have it in you to disagree, a warm tingle sparks throughout your spine in enjoyment.

“Maybe?” He feigns an innocuous air, though the edge of his lips quirk briefly. “So about my wish,” he starts, calmly staking his claim with a brush of his hand over the curve of your rising chest.

Not only was the sound of it prevalent, but the ardent thumping of your anticipating heart sparked an unexpected feeling within him. Relief, for one. You were alive, warm to the touch and resounding so beautifully. But also, a sense of unbridled attraction arose from the touch, his blood pumping in more places than one. A deep inhale followed the movement of his fingers, which danced themselves to the sweet spot just beneath your navel.

“You remember what it is, don’t you?”

It felt like a trick question. Especially so, when you could feel the pads of his fingers smooth over the waistband of your underwear. Those very fingers that were centimeters larger than your own, a ghosting touch just barely skimming over the clothed mound of heaven’s gates—temptation in the palm of his hand.

“Me.”

You managed the singular word with a faint breath, a sense of mind quickly blurring with the heat that overwhelmed you from the presence of his fingers. A tentative press, though gentle as ever, presented itself between your heat and elicited a shaky sigh from you. If he had just moved them a little closer, you could relieve yourself of this building tension. Yet, he made no motion to do so, fingers soon coming to a halt. The delicious thought ran away from you, and you had half the mind to curse him out right there.

“Correct.” Xavier’s voice lowered, a rasp you weren’t quite used to and even so, scratched all the right parts of your brain. A purr that settled into the crevices of your memory for days to come. “And what I want in this very moment is you. To touch, see and hear all that you have to offer.”

Contrary to his list of wants, he removes his hands from you entirely, leaving you to feign disappointment at the sudden loss. Moving to the edge of the bed, his thighs spread apart as he patted the space between them in invitation. You rose from your spot, a frown on your face earning you a chuckle in turn. The comforter padded your crawl towards the newfound seat. Xavier tugged you into his embrace, caged between firm leg muscles and biceps that circled around your waist.

Doubt was written across your face at his unspoken motives. “What’s this all about?” You huffed, less than pleased to be left strung on from just seconds ago.

Yet, Xavier only rested his chin on your shoulder, snuggling in comfortably and choosing not to meet your eye. The sweet gesture contrasted the heated words that brushed your ears in beckoning. “Look up, and tell me what you see.”

“I see…” You lift your gaze then, realizing exactly where you were.

It led you to the mirror of your reflection just paces away, tidily pressed against the wall and encompassing your image in its entirety. Xavier’s frame had neatly shadowed yours, where his ringlets of blue were awaiting you expectantly in the glass. The melting sunset made your combined bodies glow, and your eyes instinctively trailed over the grasp that kept you in place.

“Us,” you deduced. “You and me.”

“That’s right,” he nods, tufts of silver bouncing. His hands sneak themselves upwards, one each cupping your breast and giving a light squeeze. “Keep talking. What do you see now?”

“Now?” You echoed, a tinge of embarrassment to your voice and skimming the tips of your ears. “I can’t—Ah, ah.”

Xavier rolled your nipples in between his fingers swiftly, teasing and pulling the skin as your breasts spilled out of their brassiere. He kisses your shoulder as his massaging and tugging cycle themselves, gaze coolly pinned on you through the reflection. “You can. Use your words and tell me.”

“You’re teasing me,” you breathed, shrinking in on yourself with every press of his fingers. A fingertip pressed into your areola and you inhaled sharply, “Touching me… y’know, over there.”

“Where?” He questions, fingers splaying out to cup your breasts wholly and giving a firmer squeeze.

“Is it here?” His chin rubs into your shoulder blade with the affection of a kitten seeking warmth.

“Or maybe here?” Following were his knees kneading against the sides of your thighs, his chest pressing into your back to capture you entirely. A hunter who had his prey in the fine confines of his muscles.

Xavier murmured. “This all counts as touching too. So, where exactly am I touching you then?”

“My… my…” You squirmed against him, back arching away when his thumb and forefinger returned to pinching a firm bud.

Even as you moved, Xavier would follow, hands over your skin and attached without remorse. His eyes glimmered in merriment, shining clearly amidst the reflection of your tangled bodies. “Hm? Did you say something?”

“Chest, my chest, damn you.” You managed as much through gritted teeth, biting down a mewl to his indecent touches. Xavier smiles against your shoulder, rewarding you with a smooch of commiseration—ironic, when it was all part of his plan.

You felt like you were finally catching a break as soon as his hands slid away from your sorely swollen breasts, a sigh of relief passing under your nose. Though, it was shortly lived with the dive of those very hands finding their way to the plush of your abdomen.

“And what about now?” He asks, dimpling his fingers into the flesh in the adjacency of a kitten pawing a blanket. It was a comforting touch, hands flattening across your stomach in a gentle massage.

“My stomach,” you answered, having quickly picked up on his tactful play. “Though, you seem to be nicer this time around.”

“I’m always nice.” Xavier shrugs his shoulders, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your skin. “And you’re beautiful. I can’t help but appreciate the gentle soul between my arms.”

He attempts to make various shapes with his fingers just above your navel before settling on a slightly crooked heart. Well, it was the thought that counted.

The hook of his cramped forefingers and equally contorted middles had you giggling at the sight, as sweet as the sentiment was. “We do this all the time at the photo studio, but look at your poor posture,” you teased, attempting to relax the tensed appendages.

He eases at your touch, allowing you to reshape his fingers in a more comfortable position. “Yeah. There’s only so much the photography poses book for beginners could do,” Xavier spoke earnestly, his chin finding rest atop the crown of your head. “But since you’re my partner, it’s been easier to handle the studio light at the very least.”

“Good, because we’re heading there later this week anyway. We’ll need new photos to commemorate today.” Your gaze trails over your hands atop of his, a downward peek over your skin and finding it reflected in the mirror’s orientation. It was a natural illustration of what it meant to feel at home, especially when he held you in an embrace that promised a shared tomorrow. Your heart felt warm in the blanket of his care.

You shift your head away to peer up at him, and he looks downwards to curiously see why his resting place had moved. You pressed a light kiss to the edge of his jaw then, a token of gratitude in reminder of what led you here in the first place.

Xavier lets out a pleased hum, though takes the opportunity to cup your chin. His thumb brushes against the brim of your lower lip, looking intently. Bringing your faces closer, mouth dipping to meet yours, he mumbles a remark. “You missed the most important spot.”

Another smack of his lips against you lingers longer than the one before it, your eyes fluttering to a close. Like clockwork, the prodding of his tongue against yours seeking allowance melted into a warm welcoming as you tilted into his embrace. It distracted you momentarily, perception dulled in the efforts of capturing your breaths—Xavier smoothed his hands over your thighs, and only then did their parting cause you to blink into realization.

Drawing back, you saw his gaze was no longer set on yours but straight ahead once more. “Xav…ier?” His name left your lips in a sense of familiar foreboding, a bubbling cauldron of heat settling into your senses. “That’s…!”

“I haven’t fully touched you here in a while and yet,” said the man in question, dipping a finger to push against your clothed folds. The fabric darkened over where you were practically weeping with need, and even as he drew back the appendage, a light string followed in suit. “You’re soaked, angel.”

“You can’t just say that,” you bemoaned, embarrassed at the honest nature. In an attempt to save yourself some face, your thighs instinctively pressed together to hide such an exposed state.

Though it was rendered useless when Xavier stopped you halfway, purposefully keeping your legs spread with a click of his tongue. One hand squeezed the plush of your inner thigh in tune, the other returning to skim over your underwear. The slightest drag of his fingernails and digging of cloth created a friction that had you squirming, a line between the need to flee for your pride and need to be satiated for the sake of achieving pleasure promptly blurring.

“Just observing,” he softly brings up in countenance. “Admiring, even. Is that a problem?”

“Well, I just—Ugh, please.” Your heart spoke before your mind could, practically mewling when the tips of his fingers curled just above your entrance—where you needed him the most. “You know why it’s like this…” You’re to blame, you thought, with the unspoken words hanging off your tongue.

Xavier sighs into the curve of your neck. “Maybe I do, or don’t. What do you want me to do about it?”

Your thighs twitch when he prods further, lightly pushing back and forth in reminder of what you could have. The orbiting sensation of his fingers had you fluttering around nothing, and your patience was wearing thin. Fine, fine. It was time to throw in all your dice and hope your numbers scored high. Throwing away your shield of pride for now, you ultimately settle to be honest with your desires.

Boldly, you press your hand over his and firmly slotted his fingers between your neatly soiled cunt. He lets out a soft gasp, stunned by your affirmation. Though Xavier doesn’t pull away, decidedly enveloping your heat wholly against the expanse of his palm.

“Make me feel good here.” Your eyes never left the reflection, enjoying the sight of his brow twitching at your demand. Concentrated entirely on your words, they deepened as you continued to lay out your thoughts. “Use these nice, skilled hands of yours and make me think of nothing but you.”

The lowered gleam of his eyes twinkled when they found yours in the reflection. “Are you asking for a second wish?”

You nodded, coyly exaggerating your request. “You’re the only star I’m wishing on. Can’t you do this one thing for me?” Testing his resolve, it was as if you were questioning his steadfast promise.

With a sharp inhale, the thread of his patience snipped soon thereafter.

“I can do that, surely. But these are in the way,” he mumbles calmly. A familiar glow emits from his fingers, gentle specks floating around them. There was an even fainter woosh accompanied by the slightest gust of air. It fell past your ears before both disappeared with a blink of an eye.

You gasped in disbelief. “My underwear, Xavier!”

It was no more, a ruined scrap of fabric that had been neatly sliced into two. The sides of the waistband fell forward, leaving you exposed to the cooled bedroom air. “I liked that pair,” you sighed.

You didn’t really care for it truthfully, but an exaggerated pout to cover your surprise of his evol was your best front in the moment. No wonder why he never lets you touch his light blade, when the luminance emitted from his fingertips alone could already do so much—effortlessly, at that.

“I’ll get you a replacement later.” With a quick tug, the measly piece of cloth is pulled from beneath you and discarded to the floor. “As many as you want,” said Xavier, though distracted in thought. His fingers moving with a mind of their own to quell those thoughts.

“It’s not like you’ll need them right now.”

His forefinger and middle parted your labia with ease, offering him a devious view of the very image he had longed to see. The glistening state of a cunt that had withstood his relentless and teasing touches, puffed and awaiting for something, anything to relieve your tension. The longer fingertip dips into your entrance first, light in effect though it echoes a slick noise in return. A second follows in suit, before Xavier slowly sunk the joints of both fingers into your heat.

Your head falls back onto his shoulder, a soft moan of relief tickling his ears. He carefully retracts before pumping back in, setting a slow yet meaningful pace.

“Look at how beautiful you are,” he croons, and a curl of his fingers emphasizes his words. His lips quirk into a small smile when he finds your hips rutting forward to chase his strokes. “So warm, so perfect and sucking me in so nicely.”

A mewl of his name parted your lips in response, ringing in a sweet melody that has him twitching against your backside. This would do for now, he tells himself as much—and remains firm when he stares at your blissed expression in the reflection. All because of him, riding his hand and giving you pleasure with every knowing press against your ridges. He could come alone at the sight and thought, but another passing of your whimpers has him leaning forward, bright idea in mind.

Xavier kisses the shell of your ear, voice dripping with a raw sense of need, desperation even. “Do you think you can take a third? For me?”

Pure bliss is all that runs through your mind, and you have half of it to manage a gaze towards the reflection. And what a mess you found yourself taking in—both your skin and his had begun to drink in the settling sunset, sparkling from a sheen of sweat beading his forearms and your thighs alike. The greatest shine of all could be found pooling between his fingers and your cunt, which mindfully played you along.

You swallowed. “A…another one?”

Xavier hums, moving to pepper a kiss just beneath your earlobe. “If you can’t, just say so. Your comfort comes first.”

You shake your head in immediate effect, stubbornly so. Who were you to back down from a challenge?

“No, I… I can try. Give it to me.” You lift your hips by a centimeter or two, further parting your legs in offering. “I can take it. Please, Xavier.”

With the final words of permission, he gently pulls his two fingers back, before welcoming your entrance with the sensation of three tips. “Alright. Tell me when it’s too much.”

His ring finger, just like the ones before it, slowly sank into your heat and gave into a newfound stretch that had the two of you gasping. It proved to be a tighter fit despite earlier coaxing. The stretch had you reeling, and he patiently held his excitement in place for your sake.

Xavier paused once he was knuckle deep, and that’s when you felt it.

“Xavier—“

“Safe word?”

“N-no, but,” you gulp, feeling a different kind of flush sink into your skin. “Your… ring.”

The cooled band found itself melting against your inner heat, just barely pressed against your walls but was nevertheless a welcoming presence. You could feel his breath freeze above you, the dominoes quickly falling in succession. “It’ll get dirty if you—!”

“Ah, that’s what you’re worried about?” Xavier snickers, before angling his wrist to slide out and push back in, reaching his fingers as far as they could go. “It should be the least of your concerns right now.”

“Give me some time,” you draw out, experimentally pushing your hips forward and hissing at the shift. “Your hands are big, y’know…”

At your own pace, you gently grind into his palm to grow accustomed to the sensation. Hands on his knees to balance, Xavier’s eyes raked over the arch of your back, mesmerized. His free hand rested into the dip of your love handles, following your movements in quiet encouragement.

You called for his name when you felt a familiar brink creep towards the edge of your consciousness, slowing your hips then. Xavier followed, chin shifting to rest on your shoulder. “No more?”

“I’m ready now.” You spoke in a sense of confidence, supporting your words with a slight raise of your hips. Leaning back into him, you fall back down and respire a sound of pleasure, more comfortable compared to before.

The peaks of his knuckles fully brush against your clit when you touch base, a cherry on top of the indecent sundae. A switch had flickered inside his mind, thoughts pouring out through the parting of his fingers from within. He groans, burning the feeling of your warm walls that welcomed his ministrations to memory.

“I want you to remember that this very ring,” he emphasizes with a particularly firm smack of his palm. “Makes you mine. As much as I am yours.”

A small cry rips from your throat, pushing yourself against him from the sudden change in pace and newfound sensitivity. His fingers begin to pump with improved ease, aided by the dripping arousal coating his busied hand. His palm became wet with every crude contact to your overwhelmed heat, a faint string of arousal attaching itself to his skin.

“Look at yourself, how much you want this. Do you feel it? The way this band presses into your pretty cunt, drenched in your honey.” Obscenely loud squelches echoed his words, proving his point in rapid effect. A knowing chuckle rings amongst the noises. “Hear that sound? You’re so wet. Amazing how concerned you were, but I bet you’re actually enjoying this. Dirtying my ring, our ring like this.”

“Please don’t—ah—say it like that, it’s embarrassing,” you whined, though not outwardly denying his claims. “Not true, I promise—mmh!”

“You’re a terrible liar.” Xavier circles inwards, applying a particular pleasure that had you bucking in weakness—he cooed at the sight. “You say that as if I’m wrong. Denying the truth before us.”

A string of incoherence swirled into the sounds you created, overwhelmed by the vivid heat coursing through your body. Your eyes were fluttering to a close, but soon snapped open at the feeling of his sneaking hand grasping your jaw.

A sharp whisper of his tone nicks at your ear, redirecting your face to focus on the glass ahead. “Don’t look away. I want you to watch just how you come undone for me. On my fingers, with the very ring that binds me to you.”

It was a fight to keep your gaze steady, to witness how he held the entirety of the world in his hand with every knowing, calculated stroke. There were faint glints of the silver band winking back at you during the few off-seconds his fingers weren’t buried deep into your weeping cunt.

“That’s my girl, you can do it.” He offers encouragement, skimming his teeth in a downwards trail, hotly breathing against your neck. The hold on your jaw loosens, sliding over the valley of your breast and dipping towards your clit. Pressed together, he begins to circle patterns of infinity, matching the pace of his remaining digits dutifully plugging you whole.

He exhales in admiration, feeling his heart swell with a sense of pride when you tighten around him. “You want to come, don’t you?”

Xavier searches for your pulse point, lips drawn in an effort to leave behind a stubborn mark. A quiet command echoes the ardent stimulation, tilting you to the edge. “Go on, let it all out. Make my wish come true, come, come, come.”

No sooner did a searing flash of heat strike you, seamlessly and pleasurably tearing you into two. Waves of long-awaited release ebbed through your walls and out into the maestro of his fingers that orchestrated them. Your hands found the closest thing to cling onto for purchase, fingernails digging into the tensed muscles of his thighs.

Everything was hot, intensely warm from your body and a testament to his efforts. His name became nothing but a broken chant, spilling from your lips relentlessly just as your arousal leaked into the sheets below.

An act of kindness came with the eventual slowing of his fingers, soon leaving your trembling cunt. The parting broke with a slicked pop, and the successive emptiness drew a disappointed whine from you.

Xavier finds it amusing, softly nudging your temple with his nose to pair his sympathy. “Are you doing okay? That was a lot, but you did well.”

You nodded for reassurance, lulling your head to meet his shoulder and limbs relaxing in recovery.

He held out his hands for the two of you to see just how well you did, a fine layer of your fluids coating him from tip to knuckle, spread across the palm alike. Thoroughly drenched and sticky by design, they web between his fingers as he stretches them out.

“I didn’t know what to expect,” you spoke up in sheepish admission, then glanced at the outcome. You reach for the soiled hand, curling a hold around his wrist as you bring it closer to your lips. “But it was hot. I enjoyed it.”

Confusion colors his expression. “What are you doing?”

Slyly, your tongue peaked out and traced a path along the crevices of his palm. Stray droplets of your arousal were caught on your tastebuds, and it was exhilarating. Making your way to the tips of his fingers, your mouth welcomed their slicked length in whole. Lips pursed and carefully taking them as far as you could, you began to greedily tongue him clean. You bobbed forward to capture the base of his knuckles, then upwards to the edge of his nails in a repeated motion.

Xavier tensed above you, eyes sharp and narrowed to the deliberate suckling of your warm mouth. He made no sudden effort to pull away, entranced by your devious performance. A hum of approval would echo your throaty sounds on occasion, before he decidedly removed his saliva-ridden fingers and parted with a fine string.

“Generously cleaning the mess you made,” he observes. Sincerity softens his tone and the smile he graces you with shortly after. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” You return the gratitude in mild jest. You watch as he dries his hand off to the side, eyes soon trailing to the evidently darkened ripples of fabric just underneath your bottom. With a scrunched nose in apology, you could only hide part of your grimace. “Speaking of messes, sorry for your sheets. I’ll run the washer later to make up for it.”

He barely spares it a glance, finding the soiled padding to be of lesser interest. A kiss reaches your shoulder instead. “We can do laundry together later, there’s no rush.”

His mindset furthers when his hands massage careful circles into your thighs, taking his time in soothing your skin. Falling into place, serenity begins to filter through the air. The bands of stars sparkled under the newly unsheathed moonlight, welcoming the cosmos your hands held together.

“Say, Xavier?”

“Hm.”

Delicately, you push his hands away and slowly come to a rise, power replenishing itself after a moment’s rest. Xavier could only hold his breath, eyes raking over a tantalizing backside view as you stood. You were bathed in a faint sea of starlight, a glowing visage he adored greatly.

He released an exhale when you turned to face him, lips upturned in a knowing display. A blink later he found himself against the bed, back in full contact with the comforters.

“What’s the matter—Mmh.” He stifles his surprise with the back of his hand, blush creeping over the tips of his ears in succession.

You take the opportunity to swing your body over his, and he swallows. Your knees sink into the bedding, paired at his sides and hips hovering over his. A stray hand quietly runs a line from the heart of his chest down to his navel, pausing just above his waistband.

“I have another wish, if you’ll indulge me.”

He lowers his cover, on the cusp of intrigue and anticipation. “And that is?”

Xavier’s head dips back into the bedding further with an airy moan at your answer. Gingerly, your hand felt for his aching and abandoned cock, hot to the touch even through the cottons of his boxers. You leaned back to enjoy the view of pulling out his hardened state, his hips raised to discard the very fabric. Exposed to the cooler air, you could clearly make out the beads of arousal pulsing past his slit.

Finally freed from their confines and heavy between your fingers, Xavier twitched in unadulterated relief. A small laugh, one of recognition and affinity, escaped you. “I knew it. You were hard this entire time.”

He breathes out in defense. “Could you—mmh—blame me?”

“I can’t,” you replied in truth.

You honestly couldn’t, when you saw for yourself just how much of a mess he made of you only an instant ago. The flashing image of your reflection and his masterful play sprint past your mind, relayed through a squeeze of his length. You dragged your hold to the tip of his burning affection, then back down to the base. His brows knitted at your leisurely strokes, fingers curling into the sheets.

“But what does that mean then?” You teased, pressing questions you knew the answers to with another flick of your wrist. “Did watching me get off having you that riled up, hm?”

“Course it did.” Xavier answers immediately, tossing aside his front and presenting himself in honesty. “I meant it when I said you were beautif—uck, fuck.” His train of thought falls short into a curse, huffing out pleasantries at your touch. “Yeah, just like that. You’re so good, so good to me.”

His hips buck with your other hand palming his sensitive head, especially so when the curves of your ring skim the skin with every downward press. He squeezed his eyes shut, labored pants combatting the meek groans of your name. It was a sight for sore eyes and a euphony for your ears—to see his hair messily fall apart with every toss, rising chest that pushed out such sweet mumbles and abdomen constricting the closer he was brought to the edge.

“I’m—“

“Close,” you finish his sentence, and he only nods in affirmation.

Perfect.

A part of you felt guilty for releasing your hold on him then, and the way his eyes snapped open at the denial. But it wouldn’t be for naught—far from it.

He opens his mouth to protest before it quickly falls to a close, biting down on his lip as your hips rise. The curve of his stickied head kissed the warm entrance of your cunt, soon buried deep within the instance you sank down. Even as you coaxed yourself into taking him in stride, it didn’t beget the stretch of his girth filling you whole.

“What a sly vixen you are,” he lowly murmurs, though not in protest but rather of astute respect.

Xavier relocates his grip from the sheets to the curve of your sides, steadying your place over him with every purposeful grind you pushed forward. “Riding me like this, I’m really close this time. I can’t hold back when you feel so good around me.”

“Then don’t hold back for me.” You knew that well enough from the beginning, hands sliding past his abdomen and giving his shoulders an affirming squeeze. Leaning down to press your chest against him, your lips hover above his pillowy ones and smile.

“Give me everything you have, that’s my second wish.”

Pools of a lustful blue widened at your greenlit request. The speed of light was slow in comparison to the realization that quickly dawned onto Xavier—the glide of his hands dipping to firmly hold your ass were more than enough of a signal. Virtues of patience thrown out the window, his hips snap upwards in fervent need, setting an unruly pace and reaching depths you hadn’t thought possible. Desperate, wet smacks of his skin into yours loudly filled the room and accompanied your equally crude moans.

He captured those very sounds into his mouth, sharing his own before his hips stuttered and bliss overwhelmed his senses. Streams of hot release clung to your walls, readily accepting every thick drop of his undoing. He takes your face into his hands then, taking the care to properly kiss you through the cock that continues to spill his spend.

By the time he pulled away, your lips were swollen with the affection of his love, breathless all the same. Even if he had just come like his life depended on it, the gaze of pure adoration that bored into you showed no sign of such a thing.

With what little strength you mustered, you lean back and allow his softening length to escape you. A fine trail of viscous white followed in suit, pearling along your folds and dripping onto him.

“Another wish comes true,” you remark. Pleased nonetheless, your body reacts in agreement as another string of combined release slowly pushes past your entrance. “Combined with your luck, you could make a killer living off of this.”

It earns you a light chuckle in return, amusement wrinkling his eyes. “As long as you’re my only and willing client, then I’m open for business. Just you, though.”

You wiggle your brows in an unserious manner at the prospect. “Do I get a discount?”

“Yeah. The exclusive lover one,” he retorts, though it's a committed promise despite the friendly sarcasm. “Anyway, our desires are well aligned. It makes fulfilling them light work.”

He takes you back into his hold, chest to chest and heart beating to one another. Xavier tucks a strand of hair behind your ear before placing a tender kiss to your forehead. “I love you. My north star, I’ll always do my best to have your wishes granted.”

Whatever playful comment you had prepared melts quickly at his admission, honeying into fondness for your lover. “And I love you,” you sweetly sing back to him. “My shining trace of light.”

You stretch a hand to cup his face, to which he was quick to nudge against in reciprocation. The glimmer in his eyes faintly resembled the focal jewel inlaid within your ring, bright and wholeheartedly yours. Whispers of the stars blinked at you, relaying their oath as you admired Xavier in his entirety, and he to you.

“Let me guess. This time, your cipher is…” You paused, pondering at the possibilities and flipping through your mental notes. The conclusion came to a stalemate the longer you dwelled on it, and a sigh resulted in its place. “Actually, maybe I don’t know. Mind telling me what it means?”

“Sure.” A brisk warmth touches your lower lip, leaving behind a kiss too short for time to hold. “The message was… ‘Would you like to see the stars with me?’ The night is still young.”

You raised a brow at the proposal. “I’m already looking at one, though. And he’s really pretty, looks a whole lot better than the ones in the night sky.”

Xavier shakes his head, though a bashful flush at the compliment digs into his skin. “A simple yes or no would do.”

“Then, yes. The patio would be a nice view.” You make an effort to get up, but his arms around you give no room for freedom. You glance at him, wondering what was the literal hold up. “What is it? I thought you wanted to see the stars, so we should clean up and—Ah. You!“

Gravity was lost to you and the next moment, a familiar view of his shadowing frame shields you once more. The pads of his hands slide down your sides in greeting, torso making its slow descent down your body. He tilts his head, mirth coloring an expression that homed itself in front of your parted thighs.

“I do,” Xavier confirms. “But right now, I’ll have you seeing stars. Starting from right here.”

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