TheLucindaC



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  1. Public Bookmark *

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    The flap of an inky Burberry trench coat. An authoritative voice, lightly accented and full of power even when kept low for secrets sake, his back to her. A briefcase so neatly made it had to be bespoke. The tall bob of the top of just criminally beautiful hair.

    Puzzle pieces. Alina’s favorite. Especially when she was given the chance to assemble them into a whole.

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    English
    Words:
    23,420
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    1/1
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    20 May 2021

  2. Public Bookmark 54

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    “El—I don’t think you should touch it—” Quentin draws in a breath, and the fragrance fills his senses. Not a false fragrance like perfume, but sweet like syrup on pancakes or—he takes in another breath. Whatever it is diffuses through him, fizzier and lighter than the champagne, fuzzy warmth spreading through his nerves, his cells lit from within. When his hand glances against Eliot’s knee, a jolt hits him, like a zap of static electricity running up his arm, turning to flame inside. He can smell Eliot, the scent of his cologne spicy and masculine, mixing with the sweet, burnt sugar scent of the pollen.

    “You—do you feel that?” Eliot’s knuckles brush against his and Quentin whimpers at the touch, the hair on his arm standing on end.

    “Yeah—oh.” Quentin gasps. He blinks at the shimmering air. It makes everything look like a misty fairytale, and when he glances at Eliot again, a shockwave rolls through him, the muscles in his abdomen clenching, threads of need rolling up and weaving together inside him, swirling in the pit of his stomach. Eliot is—God, he’s exquisite. Quentin wants to worship him—fuck, he was meant to—to fall at his feet, to offer himself, mouth open, to serve him, give him pleasure.

    Language:
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    15 Apr 2021

  3. Public Bookmark *

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    Eliot Waugh meets Quentin Coldwater, and he falls in love. And then things start to go sideways.

    (This happens every time.)

    The difference? This time, just this once, everybody is going to live.

    Language:
    English
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    245,385
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    20/20
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    13 Apr 2021

  4. Public Bookmark 25

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    They’d been dating for two and a half months. Well—dating probably wasn’t the word. But they were definitely… something. They were definitely having sex. They hadn’t actually talked about not talking about it—mostly because they were too busy not talking about it—but Eliot was pretty sure it was a secret. Even Margo didn’t know. Eliot didn’t know why he didn’t just tell her. Maybe the idea of having a torrid secret affair was just really fucking hot.

    Language:
    English
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    13 Apr 2021

  5. Public Bookmark 41

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    Eliot slams the flyer down on the table. “Fillory has an entire festival dedicated to fucking and I had no idea it existed? What the fuck, Margo?”

    “It’s not dedicated to fucking,” Fen breaks in. “And it only happens every few years, because it’s dedicated to finding your soulmate.” She smiles brightly, her eyes sparkling as she sighs. “They only put ‘fucking’ in the title to get everyone’s attention. And because of all the brothels that are set up on the festival site.”

    “Finding your soulmate?” Quentin breaks in. Eliot’s eyes cut over to him, a soft smile automatically forming on his face as he takes in Quentin’s crooked crown, and his soft brown eyes that are focused on Fen. “Like, a real ‘only one in the entire world for me’ soulmate?”

    “Mmhmm,” Fen says, nodding. “Do they not have soulmates on Earth?”

    “Only in Disney movies,” Margo says, sitting down in her chair. “And the best fanfiction ever written.”

    Soulmates: Fillorian Style

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    English
    Words:
    10,935
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    13 Apr 2021