Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Do you still love me?” Xavier asks you one evening at the dining table. He’s not eaten a bite of his dinner, while you’re just finishing up with yours.

The question is so spontaneous and so absurd that you almost choke on your mouthful and have to fix yourself up with a combination of repetitively clearing your throat and chugging water like your life depends on it.
Across the table, Xavier’s expression flickers into one of utmost concern, but he quickly catches himself and retains that intimidating scowl, brows furrowed, a dark and broody sparkle in his eyes.

Xavier is your boyfriend - of course you love him, of course he is the light of your life… but lately things have seemed a little dark.
The warm smiles that he greets you with each morning have turned into uncertain frowns, any interest he shows in you seems feigned and any attention he gives you seems forced.

Petulance and puerility aren’t unusual behaviours for Xavier at all and you normally find his sulky comments and childish pouting irresistible and endearing, but now it no longer comes across as playful. It feels serious. You worry that this personality shift is the beginning of the end, and the worst part is that you’ve no idea what you’ve done wrong.

Until he brings out your diary and places it down with a much-too-aggressive attitude.

Your stomach drops and your guts churn as your eyes widen, fixated on the tatty book, wondering how on earth he found it and how much of it he has read.

“Or do you love him?” he hisses, sneering at you with an absolutely venomous stare.

Your face heats up and you duck your head, your neck feels heavy from the weight of the dark cloud hovering about your head and raining down on you, drenching you in guilt and embarrassment and shame until it feels like you’re drowning in it.
This is because you know that you’re not going to be able to defend yourself; recently all you’ve been “telling” your diary about is Lumiere, filling the blank pages with sketches of him and stories about brave knights rescuing trapped princesses. It’s nothing serious, just harmless fantasies. Xavier obviously disagrees.

“Y-you have no right to go through my things,” you stutter, avoiding eye contact with him though you can practically feel his seething glare cutting through your skin. “It’s private.”

Clutching your diary and departing from his seat with a harsh scoff, Xavier comes around to behind your seat.
“Look at me.”

When you look up at him, you feel an inappropriate tingle of arousal. He’s certainly made you feel uncomfortable with the invasion of privacy and the intimidating behaviour, but after all he is still your boyfriend, you love him.

“I love y—“ you begin, but he cuts you off by starting to read one of the most recent entries in the book - much to your displeasure, it’s a graphically detailed account of how it would be to kiss Lumiere, to have him sweep you off your feet and make love to you all night. You can’t bear to hear Xavier torment you with it and reach out to snatch the pages away from him, jumping out of your seat.

“Nope,” Xavier smirks, holding the book above your head. “Even if you did take it, I know it off by heart. Why would you write this?”

Your heart throbs at the slight crack in his voice, you hate that you’ve upset him. He towers over you, cheeks flushed pink, eyes determinedly unblinking as he waits for your answer.

“It was just a silly story,” you mumble, bowing your head. He drops the book and brings two of his fingers to your jaw, forcing you to look up at him.

Then he kisses you.

It’s much unlike his usual soft smooches; this is intense, raw, fuelled by a burning passion. It makes you pull him in closer, causes an involuntary moan to slip out of your mouth and into his as his tongue pushes through and starts to swirl.

“Does he kiss you like this?” he questions through the kiss, running his soft hands up and down your body, grasping onto your hair and your neck and your waist and your ass. “Do I taste just like him?”

“Mm,” you whimper, letting his dominant side take over. You’re pressed against the corner of the table so you make yourself more comfortable by sitting up on it, pushing your dinner plate away from behind you.

Xavier takes his lips away from yours and presses them to your neck. You run your fingers through his hair, caressing his head with your jaw, inhaling the scent of his shampoo.
“What does Lumiere smell like?” he hisses, marking you as his territory with clusters of hickeys and bite marks. “Do you want me to smell like him?”

You and Xavier do have a great sex life that certainly strays from “vanilla”, but you’ve never experienced him like this before. This bitter resentment and total jealousy has changed him, but it’s made you want him more. He’s kissing you in ways you’ve never been kissed, in places that you’ve never been kissed. He’s acting like he has something to prove. Like he’s in competition, and he refuses to come second place to Lumiere.

“Does he know…?” Xavier exhales, breath hot against your neck as his fingers unbutton your blouse. “Does he know what makes you tick? Is he able to make you sweat? Can he make you whimper and whine like I can? Is he better than me?”

You know that the easy thing to do would be to disagree with Xavier - to reassure him that he’s the best, that only he knows you this well.
But there’s a grey area that you’re desperate to explore having been totally entranced by how drunk on jealousy Xavier is - what would happen if you gave him more reason to doubt his capabilities? How would he respond if you were to knock him off his pedestal and deflate his ego even further? Would he get worse? Would you like that?

“Mhm,” you squeak, nodding against his head.

He pulls away from you, a dangerously seductive hunger dancing in his sapphire eyes.
“… did you just… is that a yes?”

You dare to nod again, resisting the impulse to smirk. You love being a brat and deliberately getting on his nerves. His reactions just get you so hot.

“I see how it is,” Xavier mutters under his breath before dropping to his knees and spreading yours, gluttonous kisses travelling up your inner thigh, his head disappears beneath your skirt. “I guess I’ll just have to try and change your mind.”

“Try hard,” you giggle, relaxing against the feeling of his lips on the gusset of your panties.

A spark ignites at the top of your spine and flows through your back, searing through you, oozing out of you. His kisses start to sound wetter and eventually he moves the sodden fabric to the side, making your hitched gasp catch in your throat when his tongue starts to lap at your wet heat.

“Oh, Xavi…” you tremble. “Tell me what you’re gonna do to me…”

He doesn’t come out from under the cover of your skirt to tell you, so you feel his each and every word vibrate through you, muffled against your folds, making you squirm with pleasure.
“I’m gonna make you forget all about Lumiere.”
He spits the name out like it’s poison in his mouth.

“How?” you ask.

The satisfaction of him devouring you is short lived once you’ve uttered this response; he comes away from your sensitivity and glares, leaning on the table’s corner and pressing his face against yours nose-to-nose. His lips brush against yours and he breathes out and you can vaguely taste yourself as you inhale.
“By fucking you so hard that you forget his name. Maybe you’ll even forget your name, and the only name you’ll be able to remember is Xavier… because you’ll be whimpering it…”

He smashes a kiss onto your lips and then comes away, his fingers start toying with the fastening of his jeans. He exhales as he tucks his hand into his boxers and strokes his throbbing erection.
“I’m gonna fuck you ‘til you’re seeing stars.”

His threats don’t scare you; they do the opposite. Even though you’ve just eaten, you feel ravenous and your stomach pangs in desperation as Xavier coats his cock in your slick by rubbing it against you.

When he sinks into you finally, the wave of relief that washes over you is euphoric.
“Xav!” you gasp, biting your lip.

“That’s right,” he smirks. “I’m the one you need.”

The sight of dining room blurs around you as he stands there, setting in about you, muttering sweet nothings and absolute filth to you as he pleads his case. If you had known that the result of him finding out about your crush on Lumiere would be this, you would’ve made much less of an effort to keep your diary hidden away. Each thrust is perfect, hitting the sweet spots, making your mind and body numb. The dishes on the table rattle behind you, battling with your ecstatic moans and Xavier’s deep groans to become the loudest sound in the room.

“Oh!” you whine, spasming as he pulls out and your body succumbs to orgasm. You cling so tightly onto Xavier’s arm that the skin becomes pink and there’s fingernail-shaped indents in it, but he doesn’t mind one bit. He enjoys the visual and auditory expressions from you too much to care about something so trivial.

“Can Lumiere make you do that?” Xavier laughs sadistically as he dips back into you.

“No, Xavi,” you whimper. “Only you can.”

“That’s right,” he beams with pride.

Continuing to absolutely destroy you with his spiteful screwing, he manages to get you off twice more, just as intense. He gets more smug the more you cum, and by the time he’s ready to cum himself, he’s positively supercilious.

“Do you love me?” he whispers as he begins to slow, pacing himself as he reaches his end.

“More than anyone or anything,” you respond.

“Even more than… him?”

“So much more. No contest.”

Satisfied with your answer, he gives over and groans as he cums inside of you. Showering each other with kisses and words of praise, the two of you stay together at the corner of the table in no great rush to resume your evening as normal.
Being so close to him, you can see the boastful glow in Xavier’s skin; he’s obviously immensely proud of himself for beating off the competition, even if the competition was himself.