#I'm sorry I don't remember the fic of course I'll add the link if I find it again

[kyouka-supremacy]

That fic from Akutagawa's pov that remarked how although Dazai had left a bomb under Chuuya's car, at least that showed he had thought about him before going, while he never cared enough to spare a thought for Akutagawa.

#I think about it a lot... Something something the opposite of love isn't hatred but indifference #I can imagine Akutagawa and Chuuya fighting over Dazai when he left #“AT LEAST HE THOUGHT ABOUT YOU!” “HIS THINKING ABOUT ME WAS A FUCKING ATTEMPT TO MURDER ME AKUTAGAWA!” #... #It was supposed to be funny it shouldn't hurt me as much as it does......... #Trust me chuu/aku angst actually hits the hardest and you will never see it coming. #Because it’s not the kind of angst of “oh no my boyfriend has been beheaded by this magic sword that cuts through space and time ://”. #Chuu/aku angst hits right close to home when you least expect it and it’s so real in its inherent humanity it leaves you defenseless #ryūnosuke akutagawa #osamu dazai #chūya nakahara #bsd #bungou stray dogs #mine #q. #23/11/22 #I'm sorry I don't remember the fic of course I'll add the link if I find it again #It's just that sometimes you will read something in a fic and go “oh my God” and it feels like you've been run over by a bus #And other times you read a fic and it seems like nothing happened– #and then two years after you realize you're still thinking about that tidbit of lore and you'll be like “oh... oh.” #Like fics that rewrite your entire belief system without you even noticing for real

[gilbirda]

Reviewing old docs of mine, I saw a summary of a big prompt from a Jazz/Jason fic I had. I don't remember if it was mine or I copied from you to write later as insp (one day I'm going to post a fic, I swear) but forgot to link the post.

The thing is I didn't find it here, but I could swear I read it here.... So, here I copy of the post? (and sorry if I'm just bad searching if you already had it):

Danny is the rightful Ghost King, but since he's not of age he needs a regent who is a) his species, b) his family, and c) an adult. The only adult haftas are Vlad or this Red Hood guy from Gotham that he's never heard of. Since Vlad is not going to happen looks like it's Red Hood, now how to make the guy count as family...

Jason has had a lot of weird shit happen to him over the years but a woman tracking him down as Red Hood to propose a temporary political marriage so he can be regent of a death dimension until her brother is old enough to rule in his own name is a new one for him. Of course he accepted. The only other option was apparently a creepy uncle figure. He's read enough romance to know a forced marriage of a woman to her creepy uncle never ends well. A forced marriage of a woman to a crime lord doesn't usually end much better, but he's ignoring that for now. He's going to woo and romance his spit fire of a wife with respect, spontaneous poetry, his damn good cooking, and by not being a Darcy. And he is going to rock not just this whole regent thing, but also and more importantly the mentoring her brother and his new ward on how to rule this dimension. Competence is always attractive. He runs a tight ship in his crime empire, surely running a dimension can't be that much harder.

He actually already has a plan on how he's going to handle the whole 'The USA declared war on the dimension he's regent of' thing. It's simple really he goes to the next family dinner and causes chaos. The faces everyone will make will be glorious when he drops that he's lord regent of a dimension, the USA is at war with his dimension, and it's such a shame that no one can meet Jason's wife or ward till there is a peace treaty. Then he just needs to sit back and watch the entertainment as his siblings realize he has forever won the position of favorite child by being the first married and first to give Bruce a grandkid. Also you know the chaos of Bruce willing to wage a one man war if necessary so he can meet his grandson. Jason figures it will take at most a month for the government to cave.

And like a cherry on top he's going to get on a medical treatment plan for the pit. Everything is looking great for him.

Bestie don't worry I found it for you!

It's a submission to my blog!

Also... this is VERY embarrassing for me to admit but, I still have an ask from you with a fic idea and it's been gathering dust in my inbox.

I'm so sorry.

I'll post it and all the different fic ideas people has sent me. They need to be free and I thought I could add something but honestly I haven't been so hot for a long minute.

I'll try to be better about my inbox!

#gil answers #dapucha #im so very sorry #i thought i could and kept pushing it for 'when i felt better' but guess what never happened

[lurkinglurkerwholurks]

It Wasn't Real (But We Were Happy)

First posted: June 6 2018

Focuses on: Tim Drake and the Fam

Favorite bookmark: "I was clutching my face for the last two chapters."

Second favorite bookmark: "Do you want to cry?"

Tier: Top five in hits and subscriptions, top ten in everything else

This is my “behind the scenes” series where I indulge myself horribly by annotating my fics. Link to the fic itself above.

This is a multi-chapter series, so this thread will be reblogged with each chapter's thoughts added beneath the cut.

Chapter One

This is one of the rare fics where I can remember exactly what was happening when it sprang into being. Mostly. I was walking home on evening, post-rain, and skirting around puddles while texting with @starknjarvis27. I don't remember what started the conversation but suddenly I was knee-deep in emotions about Tim as The Replacement, Tim as Nanny McPhee ("When you need me but do not want me, then I must stay. When you want me but no longer need me, then I have to go."), Tim as Mary Poppins (That's gratitude for you. Didn't even say goodbye?" "No, they didn't.")

I don't think I started writing directly after that, though I may have. I do know I deliberately banked up the chapters and didn't post the first until they were all written. I was worried about losing steam and not finishing. Given how popular this fic is, maybe I should do that more often.

The title is from Dear Evan Hansen (it was 2018, give me a break), from the song "Words Fail," where the main character emotionally confesses the elaborate deception he had built, ensnaring the people he professed to love in a fantasy that he said was for them but really, in the end, was only for himself.

It was said that time was the great equalizer, but Tim didn’t know how that could be true. Time seemed to touch everyone differently, and everyone grappled with it in their own way.

As you've probably noticed, I do this kind of a lot. "It" being both a philosophical beginning and lining up each of the fam and examining what makes them different in certain ways. Both are a good way (for me, the writer, at least) to ease into a fic. Starting is hard.

Dick bobbed in its streams like a vacationer in a tube. He let it carry him along, neither struggling nor straining, but enjoying the ride wherever its path led. Jason floundered, striding through the water until his steps inevitably found the gap of his stolen life. He would lose his footing and plunge under, only to burst above the current with great, heaving breaths and push on determinedly once more.

Again with the water metaphors. I would say I'm sorry but I'm not. I'll also add that this is, of course, Tim's perspective. He's not wrong, but Dick, for example, would likely have a nuanced take of his own relationship with time (that also would not necessarily being objectively right or wrong because perception is subjective, even of ourselves.)

A good many endings surprised him, horrified him, came whistling out at him like fists in the dark. 

I think I use this metaphor more than once in fics. Mentally I tie it to "A Knife in the Dark," the Bree chapter title in The Fellowship of the Ring and later the song title from the Howard Shore soundtrack for the same scene. The whole point is wildly different, but the mental association is there for me, whatcanyado.

But it was only their timing that caught him off guard, never their existence, like turning the crank on a silenced jack-in-the-box. Without the music, he could only guess when the pop and cackle would come, but he knew the lurch in his stomach was inevitable.

My sister was scared of jack-in-the-boxes as a kid/young adult, like Buddy the Elf, so I stole this from her and him.

Alfred would have noticed, had he been around, but timing his exodus to Alfred’s annual sabbatical in England had been Tim’s one act of true cowardice. Alfred would have noticed Tim’s abandonment of the Manor and would have lured him back in with calls or threatening visits from the others or the sheer guilt power of a raised eyebrow.

I think if I were a stronger or braver writer it would have been a good challenge to keep Alfred present rather than shooing him off to England like Superman to space.

No, the hardest task had been quitting the Titans. They didn’t need Tim any more than the Waynes did, but they wanted him. They were his friends. Tim couldn’t see any way to continue with the Titans, however.

Commenters speculated on the Titans showing up. I hope they weren't too disappointed when that didn't happen but I do not know those children at all. And they weren't the point, anyways. The point was Tim and his family.

#fanfic bts brain dump #fanfic #tim drake #batfam #batfic

[be-the-glenn-to-my-maggie]

I've been dubbed! To honor this momentous occasion I, Boredom Anon, will let you in on a little something: I am in fact going to go through with writing the memory loss au, rest assured. Sorry I left you with only that small piece to chew on, but I needed a trusted source to give me an opinion on the idea before I got too in over my head.

To answer a few of your questions in your response:

His body is still there, yep, and I plan on this being one of the plot points because technically Spider is still in his body---the avatar up and walking is just a glitchy memory-holder which I thought would lead to an interesting question: where is the line between oneself? Is he even still Spider, in this case? This is something that Neteyam especially will be conflicted by.

The exact details of how he got hurt are something I've been playing with. For now I think having him take the bullet for Neteyam might be fun to play with, but who's to say. I'm willing to hear any suggestions you may have on the matter!

The Sullies are in Awa'atlu when Spider is first on the mend and getting used to his avatar body. The scene I gave you was when they're finally in the clear to come and see him at High Camp.

I didn't add in all of their reactions because I didn't want to get carried away, but you are very close to how I imagined I'd write Jake and Tuk's reactions lol. I plan on putting the elements you mentioned with Neytiri in there for sure though and you're correct Spider is going entirely off of what feels right so that'll be fun.

Another thing to note: one of the main points I have written down right now is that this avatar body is so fresh that everything is new and feels almost overwhelming in some cases. Pair that with his limited memory and you get some potent muscle-memory/instinct type shit going on, almost like how a newborn creature is just going off of what it feels. For example, the first thing he thinks when he wakes up in his avatar body is Neteyam, and this is quickly followed by a deep longing and it just starts to plague him because he doesn't know what it means but he knows he needs this "Neteyam" whoever he is (and he knows Neteyam is a person, he can feel it. It comes to him in broken images: a blurry face, a melodic laugh, "I see you, Spider.") Am I explaining this well? I feel like I'm making about zero sense lol but whatever you'll get what I mean eventually if you don't now.

Anyways, while I'm working on developing this fic I'll be sure to hop on the asks every now and then with updates if you'd like and when I publish it I'll of course send you the link if you want 👍. Your positive reaction has done wonders and since you aided in my final decision to write it I feel it's only fair.

BOREDOM ANON THIS IS THE MSOT EXCITING NEWS. WHEN I GOT THIS ASK I FREAKED, AND I ALMOST BUMPED IT TO THE TOP OF THE PILE. Instead I just went through the others a little quick and used it as incentive lol. I am thrilled to be a trusted source, I'd love to do whatever I can, feel free to dm me of course, or send me all the asks if you want to stay anonymous of course.

-Wow, that is very dark. There's a great opportunity for an examination of what makes one truly themselves. I think the Na'vi would be more understanding at first than the scientists, due in part to all energy being borrowed in their philosophy. They can visit the dead in memories when they are with Eywa, and that's almost like what Spider is. It just is a question as to if that makes him dead or not, kind of. I also wonder, does that mean they expect him to wake up, or will they try to transfer him into his Avatar body permanently once they think he's strong enough? Probably not questions for you to answer, spoilers lol.

-Hmm, well, the bullet is always good, because I've been saying (I don't remember if it was in dms or a public post) that I've yet to see a fic where Spider takes the bullet and I get to the see the direct fallout from that. I think the effect it would have on his and Neytiri's relationship would be fairly immediate. It would also drastically change the ship standoff, and I'm curious as to people's takes on that. He could also always just pass out from blood loss and then when Norm and Max arrive they notice the brain damage from the machine, and that is what makes them put him in a coma, because he isn't stable.

-Ooh, very interesting. I'm sHOCKED the Sully kids let that fucker out of their sight for a second. Kiri and Lo'ak attempt to sneak out with Payakan to go back to High Camp literally every night, Jake has to sleep basically on top them. He'd never suspect that NETEYAM is also a flight risk, the biggest of them all.

-Haha, no, I understand! Well, even if he can't remember much of before, he's never felt his mating bond before in a Na'vi body. The feelings are stronger and different, and he doesn't have the past knowledge to try to repress or ignore them. He just knows what he wants and what he needs.

OBVIOUSLY we'd love updates, but no pressure of course, and of course I want the link!! I am so so glad I helped with the decision, so many of you lately have said I helped inspire you to write and I cannot express how happy that makes me! Fanfiction is a fantastic creative outlet and a great tool and gateway into bigger literary work, so never feel nervous!

#this makes me so happy #miles spider socorro #spider socorro #neteyam sully #nocorro #jake sully #neytiri sully #tuktirey sully #lo'ak sully #norm spellman #max patel #avatar #avatar the way of water #james cameron avatar #we are mindmelding get in #melissa's asks #melissa on avatar (cameron) #boredom anon

[kazuharem]

“The Most Important Person” ↠ Lucien x MC [SMUT]

AO3 Link: Here

Pairing: Lucien x MC (Female)

Warnings: overstimulation, unprotected s&x, multiple orgasms, jealous!Lucien

Description: Jealous Lucien smut from “True Love Date.” That’s it

Summary: Lucien shows her just exactly who the most important person to him was.

Word Count: 4,013

Author’s Note: This is my entry for Day 6 of Kinktober. I used this Kinktober 2020 Prompt

Day 6: Free Use

Also, requested by Icy~ ^-^ Inspired by this little section from my "Partners in Pleasure" fic: The Lucien who had slammed her into the wall with a dangerous “Tell me,” hissed angrily through clenched teeth when she was asked about the most important person in her life. The Lucien who had tortured her so ardently that very night as he grit out a “You don’t want to make me jealous again, kitten,” before thoroughly ravaging her.

I'm pretty sure every Lucien stan who is a writer have written some version of this. This is my take. Also, I've taken "overstimulation" as in "fucking brainless" which also translates to "too many damn orgasms" in my book. Enjoy!

[DISCLAIMER] As always, the characters, art, music do not belong to me. The only thing I own is the plot. Lines that are taken directly from the "True Love Date" will have * in front of the text.

⊱ ──────ஓ๑♡๑ஓ ────── ⊰ 

“If you don't mind, I'll walk that line Stuck on the bridge between us Gray areas and expectations But I'm not the one if we're honest But I wanna sleep next to you And I wanna come home to you I wanna hold hands with you I wanna be close to you”

Troye Sivan – “Talk Me Down”

*“So, Professor Lucien, is there anyone you’re crushing on here?” Kiki asks Lucien amidst boisterous cheering.

Lucien chuckles as he looks over at the girl, whose cheeks were blazing scarlet. “Yes,” the answer slips easily and naturally out of his mouth.

She ducks her head then, trying to tug her hand free from Lucien’s grasp, but he holds on tight. The crowd of her coworkers cheer and spin the bottle again. The neck of the bottle comes to a stop in front of Lucien again and everyone burst into loud exclamations once more.

“Who is it? Who?” Everyone clamors around Lucien in excitement, trying to force the answer from his lips.

He gazes back at her and her eyes skips from him, staring pointedly at the wall behind him. Lucien smiles amusedly and downs the shots, much to everyone’s disappointment. A wave of warmth spreads from his throat, blossoming outward from his chest.

Her coworkers continue to play until the bottle stops in front of her. “Finally, it’s the boss’s turn!” Kiki grins widely as the mood suddenly changes, everyone leaning forward in anticipation.

“Tell us who is the most important to you and why,” Willow announces after a dramatic pause. She winks at Kiki and adds, “Be specific.”

Lucien could hardly admit to himself how eagerly he awaits her response, stiffening up and holding his breath.

She sighs and chances a peek at Lucien, cheeks and ears turning a rosy shade of pink as she prepares herself. *“Because I got to know this someone…” she begins shyly, blushing harder. “He…showed me a brand new world. He’s gentle, but not pretentious. A mystery, but also clear as day.” She starts slowly, but her voice begins to pick up enthusiasm as she goes on. “He can see all of my thoughts and he teaches me the ways of the world.”

Lucien’s hand tightens on his glass as he desperately tries to swallow the prickly feelings that were threatening to engulf him. For some reason, he didn’t like where this is going. There was a thought that nagged at him in the back of his mind. He had seen her chatting cheerfully with that officer…that-Gavin. Had heard her burst into excited laughter when she was on the phone with Kiro. Had witnessed that damn CEO, Victor, picking her up in his stupidly expensive sports car. Could she be talking about any one of them?

She leans forward unknowingly, as she continues, *“When I meet setback, he’d guide me with patience and understanding.” Her voice has a tender lilt to it.

Lucien savagely downs the contents of his glass and sets it down before he could crush it. The warming effects of the alcohol disappears and all he could feel is the thudding of his heartbeat roaring in his ears. The only thought that rages through his mind is who, who, who?

*“He is…very important to me,” she concludes softly with a small sigh, a rare smile breaking through her features.

Her coworkers collectively release their breaths.

*“That was visceral! I bet the person isn’t here or else Boss wouldn’t have said all that!” Someone chimes teasingly.

“Yeah! You know how shy Boss is!” Another person laughs noisily.

The comments grate at Lucien’s ears and he grinds his jaw. A different kind of warmth, one that is white hot, courses through his veins.

“I really want to know who it is!” Kiki wonders aloud.

Lucien silently takes another shot, trying to quell the rage that was slowly building inside him. His vision starts to blur, but he pays it no mind.

She laughs quietly and shakes her head. “Let’s just continue the game,” she hastily directs their attention back to the bottle on the table.

Coming here tonight…was a bad idea, a thought pops up unbidden. Lucien tosses back another shot, missing the worried glance she throws in his direction.

The party continues, but Lucien’s mood worsens, along with the drunkenness of the crowd.

At some point, she slips to the bathroom and when Lucien couldn’t take the burning question any longer, he says some stupid excuse to her coworkers and leaves to go find her. The question bores a hole in Lucien’s mind as he stalks silently along the dimly lit hallway.

Who is this important person?

His fists clench and the scowl on his face deepens. The alcohol he had drunk earlier blurs all thought, all reason.

Remember your purpose, Ares. A voice whispers in his mind, but Lucien shoves it aside. He could care less about his purpose at this moment.

A sudden movement catches his eye and before any reasonable thought occurs, he’s pushing the girl against the wall, his hand grabbing her wrist.

*“What are you doi-“

*“That person who’s most important to you…Who is he? Tell me,” his mouth is moving before his brain registers the words. A look of confusion spreads across her face and Lucien presses harder against her. “Tell me!” Nothing but fiery rage runs through his entire body.

Her expression softens, “It’s you…” she says, but Lucien presses harder against her, only hearing a soft buzzing. “Lucien,” she calls his name and her words finally gets through the buzzing in his ears. “It’s you I was talking about,” she murmurs, smiling. “You’re very important to me…” Stunned, Lucien loosens his grip on her as he backs away. He hears his heartbeat thudding in his ears, a roaring that reverberates throughout him and she continues. “Everything I said was meant for you to hear but you misunderstood…”

The relief flooding through him was instantaneous and he nearly stumbles. There is nothing in his eyes except for the sight of her smiling face. “I’m sorry…did I hurt you?” Lucien asks as he drops her wrist.

“A little…but I’m okay,” She smiles, and Lucien rubs her wrist gently.

“I’m…sorry,” Lucien pulls her into his arms as he breathes a sigh of relief into her hair. It should’ve unnerved him with how relieved he felt, but Lucien couldn’t bring himself to care.

“Shall we go?” She asks, voice muffled into his chest, “I think I’ve had enough.”

He agrees readily and ignores the whispers of “Stupid. You’re a fool, Ares.”

The girl in his arms robs all reasonable thought, but Lucien thinks to himself that he prefers it that way as she slips her hand into his. His only colors in the world, he would follow her blindly wherever she goes.

They say goodbyes to her coworkers and Lucien fights the urge to claim when he sees a male coworker smiling at her. Kim, Lucien remembers.

The two of them chat a little too long for Lucien’s liking, and he walks up to the pair, offering the singer a tight smile. “Shall we go?” He asks the girl, his hand naturally finding purchase on her shoulder.

She nods cheerfully as she waves goodbye at Kim and allows herself  to be led away by Lucien. Lucien clenches the hand not holding hers.

Fool, a voice creeps up in the back of his mind again, but Lucien ignores it.

Lucien is silent in the cab ride home and he can feel her sneaking glances at him, questions as clear as day written on her face.

He could sense her reluctance to part as she squares her shoulders, physically preparing herself to say goodbye when they reach their respective doors. Gently, he places his hand on her shoulder, thumb rubbing a soothing circle as he maneuvers her to face him. “Come inside for some tea to sober up. You’ve drank a lot tonight.” Her eyes instantly light up and Lucien’s mouth curls up in an answering smile. He lets go of her shoulder to unlock his door. She follows him inside eagerly.

No sooner did the door close behind her, Lucien is tugging her into his arms. “Lucien, wha-mmph!” Her question is muffled by the sudden press of Lucien’s lips. “Lucien!” She gasps against his lips.

“Shh,” Lucien murmurs, taking her lower lip and biting down gently. “I’ve been wanting to do this ever since I saw you today.” The sudden confession renders her speechless, but she accepts his kiss, earning a pleased sound from Lucien. She tastes the sweetness of the wine he drank earlier, and a heady feeling fills her veins, as if she could get drunk on his lips alone. He kisses her slow and sweet, pulling her snug against his chest. “I’ve missed you, my little butterfly,” The hushed whisper floats between the languid presses of their lips.

“Lucien…” her arms automatically snake around his neck, pulling him closer to her. The tantalizing way she whispers his name sends heat rushing through Lucien’s body. “I’ve…missed you…too.”

Her admission makes him pause. Pulling away slightly, he peers into her beautiful eyes and swallows hard when he sees nothing but the reflection of himself. Her eyes had only him. Lucien tries to push down the prickly feelings he had been feeling throughout the entire night, but to no avail. He wanted to claim her, to make her his, so that she wouldn’t ever look at another man. “Butterfly…” he lets out a breath, the small puff of air hits her lips and she shivers. “Won’t you give yourself to me tonight?”

She gazes upwards at him, and Lucien knows he’s hopelessly and irrevocably fallen into her trap.

So much for the feeble attempt to stay away.

“Yes…” her voice is quiet, but Lucien hears it all the same. He tucks a finger under her chin and leans closer, their breaths mingling.

“Then would it be okay for me to have you however I like?” His words ghost over her lips and he could see her lips tremble from the sensation.

Her cheeks flush and Lucien’s eyes were dark. The unmistakable hunger swimming in his irises makes her swallow. “Have me…Lucien…”

With that invitation, Lucien surges forward, slotting his lips against hers. His tongue prods the seam of her lips, asking for permission. When he was granted, his tongue enters to taste her mouth as he slips a leg between her thighs, trapping her against the door. “Will you give all of you to me?” Lucien asks, fingers caressing her face.

She nods breathlessly, “Yes…I’m all yours...”

It was like a switch had flipped. Lucien grinds his leg against her as he presses a hungry kiss against her open mouth. She gasps at the friction and Lucien slips a hand under her blouse, teasing and tracing tantalizing circles on the heated skin. “That’s good to hear, kitten,” he growls against the shell of her ear before licking at her lobe, “Because you sure didn’t act that way earlier.” His lips trace blazing kisses along the span of her neck and his hand ducks under her skirt. “You’re already so wet,” he whispers silkily. “Naughty girl, don’t you know what I’m about to do to you?” He curls his finger into her as she arches against him with a whimper.

“Lu-Lucien,” she stammers as her knees buckle. She holds onto Lucien’s shoulders for dear life.

“Shh,” Lucien shushes her by laying the slick finger he had just buried inside her against her lips. “Look how drenched you are for me.” And only me, he adds silently as he dives back to attack her mouth, picking her up when he did so. He maneuvers them expertly into his bedroom, setting her down with care on the bed and undresses her reverently. Lucien shrugs off his turtleneck and takes a moment to admire the sight of her naked body, a stark contrast against the black sheets. “Look at you,” he sighs as he settles between her legs. “Look at how perfect you are.” Her entire body flushes the prettiest shade of pink and she averts her eyes. “Don’t hide from me,” Lucien chides as he kisses a trail up her thigh, across her stomach, between the valley of her breasts, up, up, and up until he comes to a stop in front of her lips. She sucks in a shaky breath and holds it as he watches her, violet eyes nearly black. “Do you trust me?” His question is electrifying, causing the blood in her veins to heat up. She nods slowly.

Much too trusting, Lucien thinks, if only she knew…

He pushes these thoughts away and presses a quick kiss against her lips before undoing his belt. Before she could ask what he’s doing, she feels warm leather wrap around her wrists. “Lucien…” Her hands are bound with his belt and he pulls her arms over her head.

“I’ll make you feel good, kitten,” he promises as he trails fiery kisses across her collarbone. “Like no one else ever did,” his words are muffled by her skin. He presses open-mouthed kisses on her chest, and she inhales. Lucien smiles as he slowly takes one of her breasts into his mouth, tongue running circles around the nipple. He makes a noise of approval when it receives sufficient stimulation. Lucien descends upon her other breast and she moans breathily. “You sound so nice,” he murmurs, voice muffled by her breast as he teases the sensitive skin, and it pebbles under his touch. He moves downward, tongue washing a lazy stripe across her belly and she shudders. “I’ve thought about this all night,” Lucien whispers when he reaches her inner thighs. “Actually I’ve thought about this for many nights. But particularly tonight,” he laps close to her heat and her breaths hitch. “I’ve thought about the way you would taste; how would you look when you’re in the throes of pleasure, pleasure that I have given you.” He doesn’t give her time to react to his words before he buries his head between her legs

“Lucien!” The sudden movement makes her jerk in surprise, but the belt prevents her from releasing her arms. Lucien holds her down as he pushes his tongue into her, and she moans helplessly.

“You taste absolutely divine, kitten,” his low voice is electrifying and sends sparks throughout her entire body. “Just like the way I imagined.”

She bucks into his mouth and he growls approvingly, fingers digging into her hips. His tongue delves faster, and her moans get steadily louder. “Lu-please, please.” She’s begging and Lucien doesn’t hesitate to suck at her swollen clit with relish.

Lucien works his tongue sinfully and she’s positively keening, “I need you to come into my mouth, kitten,” he says as her thighs begin to shake, squeezing his head. “Come on.”

He nips at her clit and all of a sudden, she’s coming hard, Lucien’s name spilling out in a broken cry from her lips. Lucien licks her quivering slit obscenely as she turns into a trembling mess.

“Beautiful,” Lucien breathes. He doesn’t give her time to relax before he’s sliding two tapered fingers into her wet folds, tongue lapping lazily at her sensitive nub.

“Lucien-ah!” She arches off the bed as he furiously pumps his fingers in and out of her. Her wrists strain against their bindings only to struggle helplessly with nowhere to go.

“I have to say, this is better than my imagination,” Lucien’s voice is deep, seductive, and lazy even.

“Lucien!” She whimpers and her walls clench on his fingers.

“You want to come?” Lucien tongues her clit, “Then come for me, beautiful girl.”

As if his command was a spell, Lucien watches, enraptured as she falls apart again, her fluttering walls clenching and unclenching his fingers. Her eyes rolling back in pleasure, her body arches only to fall back down onto the sheets. Lucien’s name is the only thing on her lips as she pants, dazed and quivering.

He quickly sheds his pants and crawls back to her, taking the incoherent girl in his arms. “You’re perfect,” he whispers before flipping her onto her stomach. “You’re perfect in every way.” He cages her in with his body and presses soft kisses along her shoulders. “Beautiful. I am forever awed by you,” He punctuates every word with a kiss.

She feels his throbbing length at her backside, and she whimpers, “Lu-Lucien…”

“Tell me you want me, kitten, tell me you want only me.” Lucien whispers into her as he hooks an arm under her stomach and holds her upright against him.

“I…want only you,” she gasps, hips unconsciously grinding against his cock and Lucien hisses.

“Good,” Lucien sounds pleased, “You don’t want to make me jealous again, kitten.”

That was the warning she receives before Lucien sheathes himself fully in her wet folds and she moans lowly, arching into Lucien’s chest.

“God…” Lucien bites back a curse as he begins to move, “You feel so good.”

She whimpers at the praise, hips struggling to keep pace with Lucien’s thrusts. “Lucien…Lucien…”

“Let it out, kitten,” Lucien growls into her ear as his other hand reaches between her legs, “Let me know who’s making you feel this good, who’s fucking you like this.” Every savage roll of his hips accompanies every word.

“Lucien!” She cries out, knowing that every thrust brings her closer to destruction.

“That’s right,” He hisses as he laps at her pressure point, “Only I can make you feel this good.”

The girl is sobbing and nodding deliriously as Lucien rams into her. “Yes-yes… only you… Lucien…” She’s chanting incoherently. “Please, please,” she doesn’t even know what she is begging for at this point.

Lucien pinches her swollen nub and suddenly the coil in her stomach springs free. She’s crying as she comes, her orgasm ripping through her body in pure pleasure. She falls against Lucien’s chest, the only thing keeping her upright was Lucien’s arm around her waist. “Beautiful,” Lucien whispers as he sits back, taking her with him. “You have no idea how beautiful you look right now, undone because of me.” He leans back and spins the boneless girl to face him. “You’re absolutely perfect, beautiful butterfly,” He murmurs reverently. “You’re mine. Mine alone.”

She only nods as her chest heaves. “Y-yours…” she chokes out.

Lucien rearranges her legs, so she was straddling him and pulls her tied hands to rest on his shoulders. Without warning, he grabs her hips and slips his cock within her folds again. A sharp cry escapes from her as he brings her hips down on his.

“Lucien… please,” she’s moaning as he repeatedly thrusts upward into her, fucking hiccupping sobs from her.

 “Come for me, kitten,” he growls as he holds her limp body against his chest. She’s too far gone to respond and shakes her head weakly as her body trembles from Lucien’s merciless onslaught. “You can do it,” he grits out, “Come for me. Only me.”

“Lu…” she chokes out, unable to form complete words. “Please,” The plea falls on deaf ears as Lucien relentlessly impales her on his cock. “I can’t…” Her words end with a broken sob.

“You can,” Lucien hisses as she clenches deliciously around his cock. “You’re doing so well, taking my cock like this…” He whispers praises as he continues to abuse her oversensitive bundle of nerves. “Won’t you come for me, butterfly? I want to feel you coming on my cock.” Lucien’s fond voice belies the filthy words.

“Lucien…Lucien…” she babbles his name in incomprehensible moans, head lolling to the side. Lucien follows her head and captures her gasping mouth in a heated kiss.

“Come for me, butterfly. Come. For. Me.”

And suddenly her body seizes before she trembles violently, the full force of her orgasm tipping her into Lucien’s chest as she twitches from the sheer pleasure coursing through her body. Lucien languidly fucks her through her orgasm as he presses kisses into her temple. Gasping, she struggles for breath, utterly boneless.

“You did such a good job,” Lucien groans into her hair as his hips slowly comes to a stop. He sits up and gently flips them so she’s on her back. Lucien removes the belt binding her wrists together. “You…are so beautiful…” he whispers as he leans down to press his lips everywhere he can reach. Lucien cups her face carefully, as if afraid she’d break, his thumbs swiping across her tearstained cheeks. “You are entirely perfect…So kind…So caring…You leave me in absolute awe.” The praises rain down like his kisses.

Shakily, she opens her eyes as Lucien’s words register themselves slowly in her dazed mind. He watches her, a look of unmistakable tenderness is on his face. “Lu…Lucien…” she pants as she reaches her freed wrists towards him. He leans in closer so she can wrap her arms around his neck.

“Do you know why I was away for all these weeks?” Lucien murmurs as she tries to kiss him sloppily. She mouths aimlessly at his chin, his neck and Lucien continues. “It was because I was scared and overwhelmed of my feelings for you…”

The hushed confession bade her pause, her eyes widening. “Lucien…” she whispers shakily and raises a hand to cup his face.

Lucien nuzzles into her touch, pressing soft kisses to her fingertips. “I’m…not a good man,” he says haltingly, and she opens her mouth to object, but Lucien shakes his head at her. “I’ve never pretended to be a good man in the first place…I didn’t have…good intentions….I don’t deserve you…”

“Stop,” she says, and Lucien closes his eyes, sighing. “Lucien. Stop.”

“You’re much too trusting,” Lucien murmurs and there is a touch of self-deprecation.

“Don’t say that again,” she implores, “You know how I feel about you. You know I made my choice.”

There is a light chuckle as Lucien opens his eyes again and she is floored by the infinite amount of love that pools in those violet irises. “You didn’t let me finish,” Lucien smiles, reaching up to caress her hair. “I may not be a good man, but what I feel for you…is absolutely sincere. That is something you can count on.” He says those words with finality, leaving no room for argument.

“Lucien…” she whispers and her eyes are teary again. He presses his forehead against hers, inhaling her scent.

“I’m sorry I got carried away…The thought of someone else having you…the thought of you looking at someone else…” Lucien’s voice drops off apologetically.

It’s her turn to shake her head as she embraces him tighter. “Lucien…I’m yours…I’m all yours…”

Lucien’s voice is hoarse with emotion as he speaks, pressing her into the mattress gently, “Then allow me to have you, to love you…”

“Absolutely,” She whispers against his lips and he begins to move, their fingers interlacing with each other as he sets a slow pace.

With every thrust he drives into her, she feels the amount of Lucien’s love for her. With every kiss he gasps against her lips, she knows that the kisses were cementing Lucien’s love, sealing his love deep within every inch of her, a secret branding that only the two of them know.

She comes first with Lucien’s name leaving her lips and she holds onto Lucien as he pants. His hips stutter to a stop as he gasps her name, spilling heat deep within her.

“I love you…I love you…” She murmurs when Lucien slumps forward into her, panting into her neck.

He shakily reaches for her as he rolls onto his back, taking a moment to catch his breath. And when he speaks, his voice is full of raw and pure emotion.

“I know I don’t deserve you…I’m not going to be any greedier and ask for forever, but…can I trouble you to stay with me at least a little longer?”

⊱ ──────ஓ๑♡๑ஓ ────── ⊰

For more of my work: 📖

#mlqc fanfic #alloverkinktober #kinktober #kinktober 2020 #lucien #mlqc lucien #mr love queen's choice #mr love lucien #lucien fic #lucien smut #mlqc smut #lucien x mc #lucien xu #mlqc xu mo #Love and Producer #love and producer xumo #xumo #xumo fanfic #evol x love #evol x producer #mlqc fanfiction #lucien fanfiction #true love date #melody #mldd #恋与制作人 #my writing #kazuharem #MLQC smut #Ela’s filth

[bumbershots]

Mistletoe & Wine

A/N: Hello this is my collaboration for @goldenbluesuit very well put together Christmas song fic challenge. It’s my first time participating and my first time posting my writing here as well (I’m sort of new, I have no friends) so, I’m kind of nervous and English is not my first language (sorry for any mistakes) thanks to my boyfriend for being a Brit so he could help me with the “slang” and for reading this about fifteen times and listened to Mistletoe and Wine by Cliff Richard throughout the entire week with me lol. Thanks for  taking the time to read this :) If you want to befriend a twenty six year old Aries, or just send me an ask click here.

Word count: 2.8k

Summary: Harry meets a woman that is not here to stay, he will need to decide if that will keep him from making the most of the very few days they have together or dread the imminent separation.

It was raining when her flight landed in London. The kind of rain that doesn't pour heavily, instead it settles over the city for days. And although she can't afford to take a cab, she steps out of the airport just to stare at the endless grey of the sky and wrap herself in her coat because of how cold it was. After a few more minutes she goes back inside to find the way to get out of there on the tube, she knew it to be possible after all the research she's been doing since the age of twelve on the internet.

Soon enough, the man she approached to ask for help, confirms that a train is leaving in a few minutes and she can easily get off at Hammersmith, he even helps her buy the ticket and recommends to get an oyster card if she is going to use London's Underground often. But she doesn't know, she relishes in the element of surprise that is surrounding her life for the next 3 weeks. It excites her to an unfamiliar degree to see people come and go into the carriage, it almost makes her miss her stop, but she manages to get off just in time, her hands clutching the heavy suitcase that contains all her nicest and warmest clothes. She follows the crowd up the stairs and out of the station, the busy street revealed before her is straight out of those books she restlessly studied at school, people wearing trench coats and long scarfs hurry in hopes to avoid the rain and then a red double-decker bus passes by. The cherry on top.

The spontaneous decision to spend Christmas in England instead of her home country was made months ago, on the night of her birthday, although her closest friends would say that she's been dreaming of it since she read Harry Potter. No one gave her a hard time for it, in fact, almost all her friends and family members went to the airport to wish her a safe trip. Her grandmother was cheeky enough to slip a twenty pound note when hugging her goodbye.

Every day of the first week went by in a blur, visiting museums, galleries and walking around the city, getting soaked in its beauty and the endless rain. By the beginning of the second week, a bit tired of the scarce options from the hotel's breakfast, she ventured out, burying half of her face in the scarf she bought the day before at Primark, her feet guiding her almost out of instinct to the little cafe at the end of Hercules road. The place is warm and the menu seems to have it all for a very fair price. After a couple of minutes the Full English wins, she iterates the order to the woman behind the counter and adds a cup of tea handing over the money.

"Get a seat love, I'll bring it over." The elder lady says making the girl smile and thank her before scampering across the room to sit by the window at the four seat table tucked in the corner.

It doesn't take long for her food to arrive and for her to dig in, feeling kind of full almost at the end, she slows down then, a trick her father passed down on her. Let it settle in for a few minutes before going back at it. Works every time. She gets lost on the daily life happening before her eyes, the people walking by, some in a rush maybe to get to work, others in a rush to get to the shops early and buy presents. She could easily tell the difference between one and other. The elderly couple walking to the market, slower than anybody else, arms linked and without a care in the world. A girl around her age doing "the walk of shame" elicited a smirk on her lips. Good for her.

"Do you mind if I take a seat?" She almost missed the question by the stranger standing there. "There's no empty seats elsewhere I'm afraid, I won't bother you." He was right, in the span of thirty minutes the place was full to the brim with families, the three seats at her table the only ones free so, she nodded and even managed to smile in a friendly way. Unfortunately for her, the green eyed stranger did the same, a sweet dimple on his left cheek more prominent than on the right one and she had to eat a spoonful of beans in an attempt to hide her blush.

Two weeks in the country, almost two weeks, and the best looking man on it decides to show up on a greasy spoon cafe when she's eating what's left of her sausages and beans. His food is delivered by the same lady from earlier, of course it is something that looks healthy. The sudden need to fly away from the place pops in her head, it's not a bad one, he doesn't even know her name. She wants to know his. She remembers how he said he wouldn't bother her, it's almost disappointing, she wants to be bothered.

The situation seems to be straight out of a rom-com, she is cutting the banger in little pieces, as if the formula to spark conversation with the mystery guy keeping her company is hidden in them. But after five minutes she sighs quietly, knowing that her own shyness won't let her even glance at him again. She will have to do her best to remember him and observe from the corner of her eye until the last piece of minced pork is consumed by her. And maybe she will gush about how gorgeous he was with her friends once she is back home, describing his shiny emerald eyes for them, sharing a sigh when she recalls how dreamy his accent was and squeal upon the memory of his raspy voice.

Ten minutes later her last bite is chewed and swallowed, the cup is empty as well. She's about to grab her coat draped on the back of her chair. "I'm going to have to break my non-disturbing you promise but... um, that's a sick cardigan." His voice doesn't sound confident as before, he even clears his throat, but his eyes never leave hers.

"Thanks, my grandma knitted it for me." She forgets about her coat and straightens out a bit for him to appreciate the colourful patchwork and extends her left arm to show the over-sized sleeve. Her companion hums in approval. "She hates it."

"What?" His green eyes widening in disbelief and she just shrugs.

"As soon as I put it on she went on and on about how horrible it was, the wrong proportions and how it all seemed better off in her mind." They share a giggle and don't notice that their empty plates have been taken away and the place is no longer swamped by people. "But I like it, I like it a lot, does a good job keeping me warm." And makes her look lovely, he thinks but doesn't say.

Instead he licks his lips before speaking again. "I'm Harry." He offers his left hand and she quickly eyes the cross tattoo.

"I'm a tourist." She says before adding her real name, earning a deep chuckle from him before letting go of his hand.

The set of circumstances in which she met Harry is dreamy for sure, but something about him made the set of affairs so real. When he asked about the places where she'd been the scoff afterwards and the roll of his eyes made her ask what was wrong about them. But he didn't answer, with a shake of his head and a deep sigh he asked for her phone number. The promise to show her the real London lingered in the air as they parted ways outside of the corner cafe.

Her heart raced at the very sight of him outside Borough Market the following morning. "Morning love, alright?" he greeted her before hugging her tight and quick. It was so genuine it made her wonder if she really just met him the day before. "Do you like doughnuts?"

"Who doesn't?" she says with that grin he worries will wait for him in his dreams.

"Wisest words ever spoken." Harry's arm is wrapped around her shoulders, guiding her on their quest inside the huge market.

The early morning is spent too soon, Harry guides her to talk to the stall owners, they are so passionate about their produce, most of them willing when possible to give them a sample. The highlight is the stop at Bread Ahead, they buy more doughnuts than what she thinks they need. They eat them all while sharing a Monmouth coffee. Harry shares with her stories about almost every stall they passed by. "I'm not a fan of red meat, and oysters." She keeps record of it, basking in his lovely anecdotes that seemed to summon the sun from it's hiding place. "We're granted a sunny day in winter!" He celebrates and it's impossible not to join him. "Let's go to Richmond Park."

Of course she nods in agreement and follows him down the street where he parked his car before she gets in the passenger seat. The stranger danger alarm, should've gone off in her head. But there was something about him, like he was holding her in place. As she heard Harry speak about his job, it started to make more sense in her head. Harry was a lot like this country, foreign, new, exciting and hers for the next few days. He made that clear when they parted ways at the end of the day.

"Come home with me for Christmas." Harry asked her on what would be the beginning of her last week in London, while having a picnic on Primrose Hill.

"With your family?" Her eyebrows were shot up when he nodded, fighting back that deadly smirk of his. "All your relatives will be there?" He nods again and she scoffs completely agitated. "Don't be daft Harry!" She voices out her feelings borrowing an expression of his.

He laughs and it's impossible for her not to join him, her face growing hotter by the second. "I don't want to go without you, and mum will love to have you there," that's what she fears.

"I don't know Harry, might be weird." He disagrees right away.

"It's close to Liverpool, we could spend a day or two over there." The past week he's been trying to learn as many things from her as possible and if he chooses his words carefully he can convince her. "Pay a visit to Anfield, The Cavern." His fake nonchalant attitude makes her roll her eyes, "Strawberry Fields is there too, you know?" She agrees and he kisses the back of her hand to mask the proud grin on his face.

In the past, she was always careful not to let a partner know how deeply she cared about them. The thought of being vulnerable made her lose her mind, thinking it was a sign of weakness. But seeing Harry drive through the English countryside, singing at the top of his lungs to Mistletoe and Wine by Cliff Richard and smiling just for her. It made her want to tell him, but not even all the words in every single language ever spoken by humanity could be enough to give him an idea of how much she cares for him.

There hasn't been a proper kiss between them, it puzzled her at first. Because his gaze seemed to be constantly directed to her lips. But then there was all the touching, holding hands, tucking her to his side when walking, his tender touch before hugging her goodbye. And the way he was always running his hands through her hair.

"She's a friend," he introduces her to his mum Anne and sister Gemma, after saying her name, chewing on the word like it's that mint gum he carries in his purse everywhere he goes. "Was a bloody tourist when I first met her but now... she's a proper Londoner." She doubts it, but she agrees on them being friends and she likes it, a lot.

They help Anne and Gemma to set the table and the finishing touches for dinner. Only three more family members show up and she chastises Harry for making her believe that all of his offspring was going to attend. That's how they usually spend Christmas Eve back home, she explains.

It saddens him, the thought of her going back to her home country in five days time. All the way across the Atlantic, six hours behind him. It's almost unfair.

"Tell me more about it," Harry's curiosity is genuine, thinking that he would love to know more about her traditions. Perhaps even be lucky enough to share them someday.

"We don't have these," she regrets taking a tube of brightly coloured paper. "We have piñatas though." She adds proudly and Harry's jaw hangs open in surprise.

"No fucking way!" He is immediately told off by his mum as they all take a seat at the table. "I thought that was only allowed for birthdays."

"There's no rules for that!" She takes the Christmas cracker out again and Harry takes it from the other end. "So, I just pull it?" He nods and it makes a noise revealing the present.

"You get the crown." Harry unfolds it before helping her fix it atop her head. "And the little toy, what is it?oh... I get the joke!" His family groans, his sister hiding her face in hands, but all she sees is the glint in Harry's eye before he reads. "Who's Rudolph's favourite pop star?"

"I don't know," she's the only one that was going to ask him. And she really wanted to know.

"Beyon-sleigh!" Harry watches in delight how the girl before him snorts at the silly and not so funny joke.

"That was awful." She confessed.

"Agree, next year we'll make our own. Riddles only." His mum adds and Harry protests right away but is shushed by Gemma's voice reading out loud the riddle from her cracker.

Next year, she will probably be spending the day with her numerous family, she thinks. Harry will be here again, telling awful jokes, pulling away Christmas crackers. Perhaps he will bring another person with him. She tries to push the poisonous thoughts down with a big gulp of wine. Only succeeding when Harry's left hand rests on her knee, his thumb rubbing circles on her skin exposed by her ripped jeans while he listens to his sister talk about her podcast. It marvels her how he is there, for everybody.

After dinner they play family games and Harry makes a fake tantrum after his cousin Chloe claims his companion for her team.

"She's mine!" He argues, his long arms embracing her easily. She ends up joining the other team, but the quick kiss she bravely gave to his neck before he let her go, confirmed the words he spoke.

There is a three step process Harry follows to know he's fallen in love. If he finds himself talking about them with every living soul, if he does something they like just because it makes him miss them less and finally if he takes them home to meet his mum. He knows that for the past few days, there was no other topic to discuss with him than the girl sitting beside him in the sofa. He's been drinking tea every morning, just because it reminds him of her. He watches her talk to his mother about how much they like Rod Stewart and knows that he's in too deep.

It should bother him, because she will leave. And all these moments spent, will be just distant memories for him to torture himself over and over again. He wants to feel the angst of knowing that maybe she will forget him, maybe she has a partner back home. He gives up on trying to feel miserable, agreeing with that song from earlier. It is a time to rejoice in the good that we see, a time for living and believing.

Right now all he sees is her, he sighs before tucking her by his side, her brown doe eyes meeting his briefly before sneaking an arm around his waist. She continues to chat with Anne and Gemma even after the rest of the guests leave, still holding onto him. Harry can see the fondness radiating from his mother and sister for the girl in his arms. He sees trust, and he smiles thinking of a new beginning.

What a beautiful sight.

#harry styles #gbsxmaschallenge #fanfic