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kingofsummer93 · 1 year

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Into the Water

Summary:

On the morning of her eighteenth birthday Elain wakes with a taste for blood.

Her task is simple. She must take a man's heart, while it still beats in his chest.

Unfortunately for her, Lucien doesn't plan on going down without a fight.

Part 1/2 Read it on Ao3

Elain woke on the morning of her eighteenth birthday with a taste for blood.

She stretched her arms overhead, flexing her webbed fingers. This was it. This was the day she’d been preparing for her whole life. All those countless hours of training and lessons- it had all been for this.

Today she would take her first heart. And after she presented it to her mother, the Ocean Queen, she would become a full-fledged member of the court. She could go where she liked, without asking for permission or with guards trailing her, or any of that silly nonsense.

Elain could finally travel to every corner of the seas she had only ever heard of or read about in books. And beyond that, to every dark corner that waited to be discovered. She could even go on land if she liked, with nobody to judge or sneer at the sight of her legs.

The sirens’ human form was considered an abomination. Exposing your legs was shameful- dirty, like the humans who bore them. They were meant as a tool for survival only, and were only to be used in dire situations.

But Elain had always had a fascination with them, despite herself. To her they represented freedom- true freedom. With them she could go anywhere she liked. And the only thing standing between her and that freedom was a single human heart.

The rules were simple. On the day of their eighteenth birthday every siren went through the Great Rite. They set out into the depths on their own, and were only allowed to return if they bore a human heart in their hands. The heart had to come from a male, and ideally one of status and rank. Upon presenting the heart to the Queen, they were free to wander the seas as they liked.

It wasn’t that Elain particularly liked the idea of killing a man, especially one with a valiant heart. On the contrary, if she was honest with herself the idea of it made her slightly queasy. But had no other choice.

Failing to complete the Great Rite had dire consequences. Sirens who came back without a heart became known as Lessers. They had no rights of their own, and were little more than property of the crown. Most became servants of some sort- maids, tutors. The more beautiful ones, however, were used as breeding stock. If Elain failed the task today she had no doubt which fate awaited her, and the idea of it was so terrifying that it overshadowed her dislike of violence. She’d bring back ten hearts before accepting that fate.

She flexed her fingers again, this time releasing the sharp claws from her fingertips. They were as clear as glass and as sharp as diamonds. Sharp enough to tear into a man’s chest and rip out his heart.

Elain lifted her forefinger to her mouth, dragging the tip of her claw lightly along her tongue. It was so sharp that the coppery taste of blood immediately filled her mouth. That was the taste of freedom. One measly human life in exchange for a lifetime of living on her own terms.

She sat up on her sand bed, perching on the edge of the coral frame. With a quick glance at her closed bedroom door she swished her tail. Her scales were pearly white, dotted here and there with red and gold that twinkled like gems when she swam. It was unusual coloring for her bloodline- a fact that her mother never failed to remind her of. Her sister Nesta had a purely silver tail, while Feyre’s was midnight blue. Both of them pure in color, as was the norm for the royal bloodline.

Elain didn’t mind. She liked it, even. Something about the colors reminded her of the blinding, prismatic sunshine that filtered in through the water when she swam near the surface. It reminded her of land, and the feel of that sunshine on her face and shoulders. That was the best part of being on land- the warmth of the sun, and the coolness of a breeze ruffling her hair. The salty spray of the ocean filling her nostrils.

Everything on the surface was more. Louder, more colorful, more scented. Different. More. Elain wanted more.

Under the sea everything was the same. Everything was tinged slightly green, and it was always cold. Her sisters relished the cold, and the dark, but more than anything Elain craved warmth and light. She would never admit it out loud- it would be considered akin to treason to do so. But once she passed her initiation she planned to travel south, where the waters ran warm. She had a sudden vision of herself lying on a warm beach, letting the heat of the sand warm her cool scales.

Elain glanced at the door again, listening for any sounds from the hall. When all she heard was silence she swished her tail again. There was a flash of white light tinged with gold, and a familiar burning sensation. When the light dimmed two legs stretched out in front of her, where her tail had been a minute ago.

Her legs were alabaster white, like the rest of her. But unlike her arms and torso, the skin was interspersed with patches of scales, marking her as not quite human. Elain wiggled her toes and kicked her feet, reveling in the feel of the cool water against her skin. It felt sinful, somehow. Decadent in a way that would have earned her a punishment if she ever said it out loud.

She ran her hands down her thighs, shivering at the sensation. Her scales were smooth and cool, but the skin was warm. Warmer than they should have been given that the blood in her veins was dark as night and just as cold. Her fingers drifted back up, and then higher still, to the place where her legs met.

This was the part that intrigued Elain the most about her legs. The soft, petal pink folds of flesh, the sensitive nub in the center, all out in the open. Even the thatch of golden curly hairs was fascinating to her. She’d figured out long ago that if she touched herself there she would feel pleasure. Delicious, sinful pleasure.

Pleasure was a foreign concept in her world. Sirens bred out of necessity, and doing so was a service to the crown. Human concepts of love and family had no place for the cold depths of the ocean.

A peal of laughter from the hall caught her attention, and with another burst of light her legs formed back into her fin. She was schooling her features into a look of nonchalance when the circular door to her bedroom opened and her sisters burst in, bringing with them a current of cold water. Elain tried not to shiver visibly.

“There she is!”

“Happy birthday!”

Elain smiled and returned her sisters’ embraces, her heart still racing from almost getting caught with her legs on display. On this day, of all days. There would have been hell to pay.

“I wish it was my turn already,” Feyre sighed.

“Just two more years, that’s no time at all!” Elain said encouragingly, squeezing her sister’s hand. “And then just think, you can come travel with me! We’d have fun together, wouldn’t we?”

Nesta’s shoulders sagged a little, and Elain immediately felt a pang of guilt. As heir to the throne Nesta didn’t have the same freedom as she and Feyre did. Her sister’s place was at court, learning the intricate business of ruling the seas. Anytime she wanted to venture away from their mother’s underwater palace she had to do so accompanied by her royal guard.

Elain and Feyre, as the younger siblings, were given a longer leash to do as they pleased, as long as their behavior was considered appropriate for the royal bloodline.

Or as long as they didn’t get caught doing anything they shouldn’t have been doing.

“Sorry Nes…” Elain said apologetically.

Nesta brushed away her apology. “You’ll have to complete the Rite before you think of going anywhere.” She gave a flick of her fin. It glittered in the murky water, like polished steel. “I remember my first so well. His name was Tomas. Oh how he screamed so pathetically!” She smiled at the memory, her eyes glittering with glee.

Her sister had taken many hearts since her own rite, but according to her, of all the hearts buried underneath her bed, the first would always remain her most precious.

Elain felt a thrill of excitement. It was her turn now. She wondered about the man whose heart she would take. What would he look like? Would he scream as loudly as Tomas had?

“Are you ready?” Feyre asked.

Elain grinned. She was.

---

Her mother’s throne room was full of all manners of sea creatures, all eager to catch a glimpse of the princess on her way to perform the Rite. Sirens and guards filled the front rows, with the Lessers relegated to the back.

The queen herself was seated on her throne, assessing the scene with her usual cool indifference. Her royal guards were floating next to her, holding their sharp tridents in muscled arms. They had the lower body of seahorses, the torso of men, and the sneer of predators. Instead of a single tail fin, the Ocean Queen’s torso led to dozens of tentacles that spread around her like shadows. It was a result of the magic she weld- she was as bound to the ocean as it was to her. The Queen did not have human legs, and even if she did she would never have lowered herself to the point of stepping on land.

Elain swam towards her mother and bent at the waist in a bow, lowering her eyes to the crushed-seashell floor. When she lifted her head her mother’s gaze racked over her from head to fin with barely suppressed disdain. A familiar feeling of shame and inadequacy made her stomach squirm. Still, she forced herself to lift her chin and meet that assessing gaze.

Elain had fussed over her appearance for this day, and looking at herself in her bedroom she had thought she looked particularly lovely. Her hair had been brushed until it floated around her like a cloud of silk, and her favorite pearl earrings sparkled from her ears. She had tied on her favorite shell bra over her chest- from far they appeared pure white, but from up close there were tiny veins of red and gold running through the surface, like the scales on her tail. But under her mother’s gaze she suddenly felt like she was covered in mud.

“Daughter,” the Queen drawled, “the time has come for you to perform the Great Rite and prove your worth to this court.”

An excited murmur rippled through the crowd, tinged with the faint sound of muffled laughter. Instead of admonishing them her mother only grinned in wicked delight.

It was no great secret that the Queen did not deem her second daughter worthy of her royal title, nor did she think her capable of performing the Rite. Elain had always been too gentle, too kind, too hesitant when faced with the cruelty and violence that ruled this court. But she was beautiful, and that, whatever her other shortcomings, had value.

Elain gritted her teeth as the Queen blessed her with the Mother’s prayer. No doubt she considered this a waste of her breath.

She would show them. She would show them that she was more than just a beautiful face and breeding potential. The Queen and her court might think her inadequate but she was as capable as the rest of them.

Elain let her outrage simmer inside her until it felt like fire ran through her veins. She could already hear the screams of her victim ringing in her ears.

She’d make him scream, and then she’d make them all regret ever doubting her.

---

Lucien woke with a jolt.

At first he couldn’t figure out what had woken him. They couldn’t have arrived in Adriata yet- they were at least half a day’s journey away, even with favorable winds.

His cabin was dark, as was the night sky visible outside the porthole near his head. The sea was calm, the soft rocking of the waves gentle enough that he was tempted to simply roll over and fall asleep again. He removed the wax earplugs from his ears (he was a notoriously light sleeper and a pirate’s crew was not known for being quiet) but all was silent. No screaming, no fighting, nobody yelling for the captain to wake up.

His eyelids had barely started drooping when he felt it again. Something was wrong. He felt it viscerally- like a tug on a rib, jerking him to attention.

It was too quiet. Silence like this on his ship was unnatural, hence the need for earplugs. On any given night he should have been able to hear muffled laughter and mild revelry at the very least.

Lucien rubbed the sleep from his good eye and peered out the porthole again. All he saw was a blurry mist, with a weak light of dawn trying to pierce through the dark. He rubbed his mechanical eye this time, but everything outside remained veiled in mist.

This was wrong. Adriata was in the south, and was known for its calm waters and mild weather. A land of permanent summer. A sailor’s true paradise.

The mist outside was so dense that it seemed to seep straight through the hull of the ship and into his very bones. A chill went through him. Wherever they were, it was nowhere near Adriata.

Lucien pinched his nose and grumbled irritably. This was what he got for hiring a rag-tag band of exiles and misfits for a crew.

No matter. Whichever idiot was responsible for this would walk the plank as an example, and whoever didn’t fall in line would get traded in once they reached their destination.

Something in his peripheral vision made him sit up straight, his stomach lurching violently. A jagged, rocky cliff, jutting out of the ocean mere inches from his window. And beyond that- dozens more, stretching around them like some kind of underwater tombstones. For a moment shock and terror rendered Lucien completely immobile. They weren’t just hours off-course, as he had initially thought.

They were sailing directly through Death Valley.

Few ships that ever sailed in this area ever came out of it alive to tell the tale. According to the stories the waters leading up to the barren island were gentle enough to lull even the most experienced of sailors into a sense of security. But soon the thick mist would settle over your ship like a cloak, so dense that at first the obstacle course of crags wouldn’t be visible until it was too late. If somehow a ship managed to not crash on its way towards the coast, the island’s shore was so uneven and inhospitable that there would be nowhere for that ship to dock.

Lucien had never been anywhere near it, nor did he know anyone who had. Its exact location was a subject of such debate by those who claimed to have seen it that it had become mostly a thing of legend. Wild stories spread like wildfire regarding the island itself and the people (or creatures, in some cases) that lived there.

The most popular of these was that the treacherous island was a hunting ground for sirens. It was said that the unfortunate souls who ventured this way had been lured in by their songs, and that those who didn’t drown or otherwise perish in shipwreck were faced with a much crueler fate. It was madness, of course. The stuff of children’s books. But then again, before today Lucien would have thought that the whole island was simply a legend.

How had they gotten here? And more importantly, how were they going to get out of here alive?

He bolted out of bed, grabbing his sword on his way out of the cabin. It was a thing of beauty, with a hilt encrusted in rubies so large that just one could have fed his entire crew for a month. He had stolen it from his father’s armory when he’d escaped from the tyranny of his court. It served both as a reminder of the freedom he’d won, and what he stood to lose if that freedom was taken from him. Lucien had always assumed he would die at sea, but he hadn’t survived this long, and at such costs, only to die because some rookie sailor had veered them off course.

He could already picture himself in a tavern, telling his tale to an enraptured audience once they reached Adriata. He’d have his pick of men to form a new crew, and women would fall on his lap. Maybe word of it would even reach his hateful family. How he’d love to be present to watch the sneer disappear off his father’s face when word of his errant son’s heroics reached him.

The sleeping quarters were eerily quiet as Lucien hurried up to the top deck. Too quiet.

The ship gave a sudden almighty lurch, followed by the ear-splitting sound of wood against stone. Lucien was thrown to the floor, all thoughts of heroism now replaced by gut-wrenching fear. The Loyal Storm had survived its share of battles and storms, but would it survive this?

Still nobody shouted. Wrong. This was all wrong. Where was everybody? Why was nobody panicking? Lucien grabbed the wall for support as he crawled up into the dense mist outside. It was so thick he could barely see a few feet in front of him.

“Jurian! JURIAN!”

There was no sign of his first mate anywhere. Usually he’d be the first one on the scene, wrangling the crew back into shape. If there was one person in this crew he could trust it was him. This ship was as much his as it was Lucien’s.

So where the fuck was he?

The ship lurched again, so violently that Lucien fell flat to his face and started sliding towards the tilting hull. He barely managed to grab onto an armful of rope before sliding to his death, and he held on desperately until the deck righted itself again with another lurch.

The light of dawn was fighting its way through the mist, and shapes were starting to appear around Lucien. He had to rub his eyes again to make sure he was seeing correctly.

His men were jumping overboard. Some were half hanging over the side, as if reaching for something, while others were flat-out climbing overboard and jumping into the water. Lucien ran for the nearest sailor and yanked him back onto the deck by his shoes.

“What do you think you’re-”

The look on the boy’s face made Lucien stumble away in shock. His eyes were glazed, unseeing. As if he’d been bewitched. The boy didn’t even acknowledge him before jumping back to his feet and stumbling towards the edge again, hands outstretched.

“Mate! Sink me, what is going on?”

A sick feeling of dread was starting to fight with his good sense. The stories couldn’t possibly be true. There were no such things as sirens. These scallywags must have gotten mind-numbingly drunk and were now hallucinating.

The mist parted for a moment, giving him an uninterrupted view of the head of the ship. What he saw made his blood run cold.

Jurian was climbing onto the ship’s figure head, a giant eagle with its wings outstretched. His first mate was hanging on for dear life, but one more wave and he’d been falling to his death.

“JURIAN!”

Something was terribly wrong. Had they all been poisoned? Jurian might be hot-headed but he was never reckless. He’d sworn an oath to protect the Loyal Storm and its captain. He would never purposely have put Lucien in danger.

Feeling supremely idiotic, Lucien reached into his pocket for his earplugs. It couldn’t be- there must be another explanation. Still, he stuck the cloth-wrapped wax into his ears before breaking into a run towards his first mate.

“JURIAN! GET DOWN!”

His friend did not even remotely react as Lucien’s hand wrapped around his ankle and yanked. A dark shape loomed ahead, and Lucien realized they were headed straight towards a towering crag. Without thinking he launched himself forward, grabbed a hold of his first mate and fell off the side of the ship and into the water.

---

He was alive. That was the first thought that jammed itself into his mind as he came to. The next thought he had was that he was about to be violently sick.

Without opening his eyes Lucien rolled onto his hands and knees and retched. A torrent of sea water and bile exploded out of him until he was weak and breathless. He slumped onto his back, wincing at the pain burning every cell in his body. For a moment all he could do was lie there, his limbs heavy and leaden. And then the memory of what had happened came rushing back.

The mist, the crags, his sailors jumping ship. Jurian. Jurian.

Lucien’s eyes snapped open. With some difficulty he sat up and glanced around him. He was lying on a rocky beach in a cave. The water in the center of the cave was full of the same rocky crags that surrounded the misty island, and the ceiling dripped with sharp stalactites. Bits of wood floated all around him- the only remnants of his beloved ship.

A wave of grief rocked through him like a punch to the gut. There were other ships, of course, but the Loyal Storm had been his first.

Get a hold of yourself. There would be time to grieve later. For now he had more pressing problems. Like the fact that he was lying in a cave in the middle of the ocean.

That was when he noticed the bodies. His crew, that band of exiles and misfits and thieves and criminals, lying dead on the shore amongst the wreckage.

Lucien scrambled to his feet, lunging from one body to the next, looking for the one that was the most familiar and dear to him. He couldn’t breathe from the fear wrapping its iron first around his throat.

But it was useless. There was no sign of Jurian anywhere in the cave, alive or dead. Lucien fell to his knees.There would be other ships, but there would never be a first mate like Jurian. His only consolation was that his friend had died at sea, as a true pirate should.

Tears were falling down his face, but Lucien didn’t bother wiping them away. There was nobody to see him weep. He was alone, marooned in a cave in the middle of the ocean, without a ship.

Get a grip, you muttonhead. Get up.

One foot in front of the other. That was how he had survived before, and it was how he would keep surviving.

He was struggling to his feet again when a sound caught his attention. A wet, slick sound that had nothing to do with the waves crashing around the mouth of the cave. Had someone else survived the wreck? Lucien stumbled through the mist like a blind man, looking for the source of the sound.

Another noise cut through the silence. A gasp of surprise and delight.

“Hello?” His voice echoed around the rock, calling back to him in a loop.

Another gasp, quick and sharp. Lucien followed the sound, careful to not trip on the bodies littering the beach. There was movement in the water.

“Hello?” he called again. “Is someone there? Are you alright?”

Silence answered him. But someone was definitely in the water, he couldn’t have imagined it. Hope bloomed in his chest. Someone else had survived- perhaps it was Jurian. Maybe his friend hadn’t died after all. He fell to his knees at the edge of the water and held out his hand.

“Jurian, is that you? Here, let me help you. Blimey, how did you-”

His voice died in his throat as a figure appeared in front of him out of the mist. His arm was still extended, limp and useless.

It was a woman. A cascade of golden-brown curls floated around her like seaweed, framing a face as lovely as sunlight itself.

But what caught his attention was the body, half floating in the water next to her. The man’s chest had been ripped open, the blood spray on his face so thick he was unrecognizable. More horrifying, however, was the fact that where there should have been his heart there was only an empty cavity.

The location of said heart became clear when Lucien looked at the woman again. She held her hands above the water, cradling the sailor’s heart like a treasure. Blood dripped down her arms, but Lucien could still make out the shape of her fingers. Or, more specifically, the fact that they ended in sharp claws. Sharp enough to have cut open the man’s chest.

For a split second he stared in mute horror, and she stared back, eyes wide with surprise. And then she grinned, her expression switching to what could only be described as pure delight.

Before Lucien could react or say anything her lips started moving. He could see her mouth move, but no words were coming out.

She dropped the heart she was holding with a plop, and turned her attention towards him. Lucien couldn’t breathe properly as she faced him fully. She was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.

Her rosy lips curved into a grin, and Lucien felt his own lips mirroring the motion. He wanted to speak but the words were lodging in his throat. There were no words good enough to express what he wanted to say to her.

She was the answer. It was clear now. Why had he been afraid, when she was right there all along? He felt silly with relief.

“There you are.”

Had he spoken, or had she? He couldn’t quite tell. It didn’t matter.

Her lips were still moving, but Lucien couldn’t hear anything over the sound of his own heart. He was wading into the water, but she was floating back, beckoning him deeper. It didn’t matter. He would follow her wherever she went.

The waves reached his waist, and then his shoulders, and then he was swimming, waves crashing into him from every side. And then finally- finally she was there, in front of him. Her arms reached for him, and Lucien fell into her. Her scent wrapped around him, filling his lungs like air. Salty like the ocean around him, but sweet as honey. It was better than oxygen, more than life.

And then her lips stopped moving, and it was like waking from a dream. Reality snapped into place with horrible clarity.

“What-”

Before he could process where he was or what was happening he was yanked below the surface. The last thing he saw before he was pulled underwater was her eyes. Brown as a fawn’s coat, warm and lovely, with a slit-like pupil.

And then the world was nothing but water and salt.

#HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME #elucien #elucien fanfic #elucien fanfiction #elain archeron #lucien vanserra #don't yell at me about the earplugs okay?#I HAD TO #what happened to Jurian though?

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captainknell · 1 year

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Happy birthday Lucien Bonaparte! May 21, 1775

#napoleonic #napoleons family #napoleons brother #lucien bonaparte #portrait by Francois-Xavier Fabre #happy birthday

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20sunshine · 1 year

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Poema de Aniversário para um Jovem Extraordinário!

De: Rudinho

Para: Neném Deiu 💙🎂

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✪ D-Day Loading... ✪

Hoje se comemora o dia mais importante da vida de alguém

Não é um dia de pagamento ou uma simples data comemorativa que cita o que nos convém

Se trata do dia do nascimento daquele único ser que me faz bem

Que mesmo em momentos difíceis, a pureza em sua alma retém

Tua aura radiante que ilumina como uma poeira estelar

Traçado como uma escultura e silhueta perfeita como a do eclipse lunar

Suas razões claras e visões de mundo tão nítidas fazem minhas emoções e interesse contínuo se aflorar

Eu o conheci numa tarde de verão, onde tudo podia acontecer

Na situação mais louca, perturbada e caótica de se crer

Foi de primeira nossa conexão que jamais pude me esquecer

Atualmente faz parte da minha vida e conversamos até depois do anoitecer

Este garoto se alojou no meu peito, se apossando de todo o espaço

Tomando minha completa atenção em segundos, todo o teu corpo se encaixou no meu abraço

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Seus olhos refletem o mais puro carinho

Um afeto, um brilho na superfície ao se aproximar

Esta carícia, tua doce voz ao falar mansinho

Palavras ditas com ternura que fazem qualquer típico sonhador se apaixonar

Vivemos diversas noites de paz, alegrias e novas descobertas, cobrindo nossos corações do mais ardente calor

Nenhuma mágoa ou desavença é capaz de apagar a cumplicidade mais limpa que uma conexão nesse mundo já formou

Nossas almas se completam de modo que me sinto vivo a cada segundo

Estarei sempre ao teu lado para vê-lo consolidar o seu grandioso futuro

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Graças a você me dei chances de me arriscar, parar de reclamar e nunca pensar demais por querer me entregar

Lembre-se de tais conselhos e a parte valiosa que é praticar

Não se acanhe para mais uma vez tentar

Meu doce e amado Deiv, sequer pense que algum dia deixarei de lhe admirar

Observar tua força, destreza, inteligência e pureza são uma pequena parcela do combo incluído no pacote ao lhe amar

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Neste dia estarei a lhe desejar, não um simples e comum feliz aniversário

No entanto, o parabenizo almejando MAIOR e mais sincero esplêndido aniversário estando aqui ao seu lado!

Dedico abertamente este poema parabenizando ao meu único, fiel e muito mais que um melhor amigo

Àquele que nunca faltará com honestidade, com a melhor das personalidades

A quem meu peito se enche de verdade ao dizer seu nome com orgulho e alarde

De hoje em diante e para todo o sempre, desejo uma gloriosa vida à este menino cheio de bondade

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Guardado em minhas memórias, estão os momentos mais bonitos ao lado deste jovem ao qual o chamo no diminutivo de Deivinho

Que apesar do seu notável, nada incomum tamanho,

Esse grande, fervoroso e majestoso homem sempre foi o meu adorado baixinho

Eu te amo infinitamente, meu fofo, sincero e complacente little deiw!

Espaço dedicado inteiramente a você, minha batatinha rústica suculenta! 🥔

Com amor, rudinho 💙💭💕

#love poem #poetry #happy birthday #love letter #tom holland #daniel sharman #dylan obrien #timothée chalamet #dylan sprayberry #lucien laviscount

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xingxueyue · 1 year

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Happy birthday to my beloved XuMo

Yes, recycled picture, cos I'm too drained out from work to even help him celebrate. Welp, woos of adulting life.

#love and producer #mr love queen's choice #mlqc #恋与制作人 #戀與製作人 #evol x love #lovepro #xumo #许墨 #許墨 #mlqc lucien #mr love lucien #happy birthday

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gglitchshit · 3 months

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anyway its been 8 years of bearing the curse

#i didnt actually start playing until april bc i procrastinate everything but yeah <3 #oh also happy birthday lucien its his in-character birthday yippeee (but he wasnt a thing until like august of the same year)#(so he gets to have 2 birthdays <3 special son)#also 🤝🤝🤝 at my dear mutual flower; we both have game anniversaries and character birthdays on the same day.......<3

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aurorawritestoescape · 2 months

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THE PARTY || Lucien Flores x f!reader || 580 words

Tw: 18+ mdni, smut, DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, NON CON, unspecified age gap, unprotected piv.

Hugs and kisses to @milla-frenchy for beta reading😘

****

Your red lipstick is smeared all over his palm, but you’re not screaming anymore. Not with the way his thick cock slides in and out of your treacherously wet pussy.

“Yeah - yeah - yeah…” Lucien rasps into your ear with every thrust, “ya like it? Good girl.”

His strong fingers are digging into your left thigh leaving marks and pain in their wake as he’s holding your leg against his hip, opening you up for him to fuck. His fist bunches up the skirt of your red dress, the color of the flower he plucked off a bush for you just a few minutes ago. You thought he was sweet, not expecting him to turn into this monster, eyes boring into yours, gaze dark, carnal, hungry, as he’s ruthlessly using your pussy for his pleasure.

You should scream, must scream but can’t. Lucien’s pounding into you by the wall in a dark corner of the garden, and all you can do is whimper and take it like a good girl. Like he told you to.

You’re not sure anyone will hear you anyway, his violent act is concealed by the loud music of the party.

“Prancing around…tits almost out…swaying your sexy ass…been asking for it all night, little slut,”he’s growling in your ear as he slightly lifts your body against the wall, plunging his cock even deeper inside your channel. You cry out and start moaning clutching his silky shirt as his fat tip abuses your cervix with sharp strokes.

“Made me so hard…Fuck, you’re tight, baby.”

“Stop…,” you mewl helplessly but even you don’t believe yourself. Your mind has shut down some time ago, making you concentrate on the pleasure coursing through your body and relieving your psyche from the horror of his lewd act. At least for now.

Lucien laughs at your plea, the hoarse sound interrupted by his breathy moan as his cock finally erupts and he shoots his cum deep inside your burning core.

He pumps you full of his warm seed still rolling his hips as your pussy squelches around his pulsating length.

Finally he stills, pulls his cock out and lowers you down. Your shaky legs give up and you would surely fall if not for his strong arms catching you and holding you up.

He chuckles through the heavy panting,

“Fucked you good, huh?”

You try to stumble away from him but he pushes you back against the wall, pinning you to the cold hard surface yet again.

“Did you come? Don’t think so,” he says lifting up your skirt for the second time this night and you start sobbing.

“Shh, don’t cry…my girls always come.”

In a second his fingers are rubbing your hardened clit using his cum dripping out of your hole as lube and soon you unravel under his touch, shaking, moaning, hating him and your body for succumbing to his ministrations so easily.

Finally satisfied he slides his big hands up your sides and wraps them around your neck, thumbs gently rubbing your jaw. Cold blown eyes locked with yours, he gives your throat a light squeeze and makes your heart freeze with terror when he growls,

“One word about this and I’ll tell your dad his little girl seduced his best friend. I still have your nudes as proof.”

He gently kisses you, taste of champagne and cigarettes on his lips, and then whispers against the corner of your mouth before leaving,

“Happy Birthday, baby.”

*****

Thank you for reading💖

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated🌸

MASTERLIST

General tag list: @milla-frenchy @harriedandharassed @missannwinchester @iamasaddie @nervousmumbling @bbyanarchist @stevie75 @puduvallee @auteurdelabre

#lucien flores #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #tw dead dove #tw noncon #lucien flores x reader #lucien flores x you #lucien flores x f!reader #the uninvited #dead dove do not eat #drabble #dark!lucien

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velidewrites · 2 years

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The Great Libraries of Prythian || A Collection of Elucien Stories

I imagine each one of Prythian's Courts has a grand, beautiful library - a place where their High Lords keep their magic and secrets safely hidden. I used an AI to bring this vision to life and hope you like it as much as I do!

Because this is a birthday gift to the resident Elucien Queen, @separatist-apologist, you will find short stories about the time Elain and Lucien spent in each of those libraries as part of their journey through the world. Have the happiest of birthdays, MB!

art made with WOMBO Dream

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notjustjavierpena · 11 months

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Masterpost

All content is rated +18, so MDNI. I write fem!self-insert, exploring different kinks, so make sure you read the tags to each piece of writing. No use of y/n, and reader's appearance as unspecified as possible for your pleasure.

* indicates smut

Requests are CLOSED.

TAGLIST: FOLLOW @notjustjavierpena-fics AND TURN ON NOTIFICATIONS 💖❤️💖❤️

Joel Miller

One-Shots

Cruel*

Diner*

Swelter*

Series: DILF!Joel In chronological order

Three Times You Didn’t Kiss Joel - And One Time You Did - Introductions, Wasp, Fussing, Kiss* (Completed)

Hurried Morning*

Candy*

Tremble*

First - Time*, Date*

The Making of Ellie - Baby-Making*, Tempers*, Reveal, Libido*, Happy (Completed)

Series: Mean!Joel In chronological order

Hate*

Mean!Joel slaps your face* (Drabble)

Hurt*

Him*

His*

Series: DBF!Joel In chronological order

Switch*

Gush*

Eat*

Misbehavior*

Pillow*

Reunion - Tonight*, Clamp* (Completed)

Panties*

Painted*

Series: Sugardaddy!Joel In chronological order

Perfect*

Wake*

Shopping*

Javier Peña

One-Shots

Are you staying?*

Buzzing*

Sucía - Birthday Girl*, Hungover*

Series: Husband!Javi

Masterlist

Series: Six Weeks

Chapter 1

Frankie Morales

One-Shots

Gum*

Lucien Flores

One-Shots

Five Minutes*

Ted Garcia

One-Shots

Practice Makes Perfect*

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readychilledwine · 18 days

Text

Happy Birthday, High Lord!

Summary - You and Lucien pulled all the stops for Tamlin's birthday this year. Now you just have to hope your mate appreciates it.

Warnings - sexual jokes and innuendos, implied possible smut at the end

Prompt - Day 6 - Celebration

A/n - Happy @polyacotarweek day 6! I'm not super happy with this one. I probably would have been had I added the smut at the end, but I wanted my trouple to be wholesome instead.

💕Poly+ACOTAR Week Masterlist💕

“Meticulous.” Whenever someone asked Tamlin and Lucien to describe you, that was the first word that came to mind.

“Blabbermouth” would be the next thing. It wasn't that you couldn't keep secrets in general. It was that you struggled to keep secrets from them from Lucien and Tamlin.

Lucien kept a straight face, the string connected to you pulled tight as Tamlin stared you down, green eyes sparkling with joy. “Tell me, petal.”

They both burst into laughter as you shoved a muffin into your mouth, then pointed and shook your head. “Just take her for a ride, Tamlin.”

“I will let her ride whenever she wants. I just want to know why we are going out for the day while you stay here.”

Lucien sighed. “Just take her out.” You continued chewing, blinking at the two of them every so often. “Or else I will just ride you, and we can go out.”

You glared at him as he smirked before shaking your head and pouting at Tamlin. You and Lucien knew Tamlin like the backs of your hands, and when he opened his mouth, you knew the two of you had played him like a fiddle. “Just for pouting, Lucien and I will head to town. You can stay here.”

Lucien tugged the bond twice as you continued the act, sending his love your way as the two of them stood. Lucien was the first to kiss you. He always would be. The kiss was gentle and warm before he then kissed your forehead with a quickly returned “I love you.”

Tamlin always kissed you last. You were their's, yes, but you had been his first, and he had risked everything to protect you from Amarantha and Hybern. It had taken so long for you two to find each other again that he had almost lost hope.

His hands rested on your cheeks as he pulled you in, soft lips fitting to yours like a puzzle. “Be good.”

“I will. I promise.”

“I love you, little rose.”

“I love you,” you refused to add the “too”. You always did with both of them. You didn't love them just because they loved you. You loved them because you genuinely did. You waited for Lucien to give the signal, the bond tugging one last time before getting to work.

The Manor was eerily silent when Lucien and Tamlin returned hours later. The faelights had been turned off, and the servant's area was even silent. Tamlin was immediately on edge, and Lucien led them in. You were nowhere to be found. “Maybe the ballroom?”

“She wanted to redecorate it. Maybe she is planning.” Lucien led Tamlin that way, hiding his smile the best he could. He mentally counted the years to himself, 55 years. They had not celebrated Tam's birthday in 55 years.

Lucien pushed open the large rosewood door, allowing Tamlin in and watching as his face fell and you dropped the sound ward. Inside, a lively party was beginning.

Tarquin was standing next to you and waved. Helion was laughing with Thesan in the corner. Fae were dancing and laughing in all directions. Every high lord and their respective circle had come, all excited to finally be welcomed into the newly repaired Spring.

“Happy birthday, Tam,” Lucien looked at him. “Aren't you happy I demanded you dress nicely for our date now? Oh look, there's Feyre, you could go tell her that her hair looks clean.” The mentioned female waves from where she was spinning Nyx, smile bright as Rhysand watched and laughed. The Lord of Night nodded to Tamlin. While their relationship had not been 100% fixed, it had at least become civil.

Tamlin was shocked. Standing there with his eyes wide. “How?”

Lucien shrugged and inclined his head to you. “She's magic.”

You and Lucien had ensured everything was perfect. His closest friends and repaired relationships were all there. His favorite cake sat on a table waiting for him. The two of them took their places at your side, smiling and greeting their guests and friends as they watched you receive constant praise at the party. Lucien held your hand as Tamlin kept an arm around your waist, keeping you both close to him.

He had not expected this. Tamlin had expected a small dinner with the three of you, possibly a gift from you, and a verbal sparring match from Lucien, but this was above all expectations. He couldn't help but smile all night, hand staying in its place on your hip while his other would go from being free to touching Lucien.

You leaned in and kissed his cheek as the night started to close down and guests turned to their respective rooms. “Did you have a happy birthday?”

You both looked to where Lucien and Eris were having an animated discussion regarding foxes versus the newly crowded Autumn Lord's precious hounds. “I did. The weather was beautiful. Lucien and I got to enjoy the market. We laid out in the flower field. Had a lovely dinner. And then I come home to all of this. It must have taken you hours to plan this.”

“A few days.”

“I don't deserve it.”

“I have two beautiful and loving mates ensuring I do that.”

“You deserve the world. You are not that male anymore. You have healed, and you have found closure. Think of this birthday as a new beginning. Permission to move on."

Your lip twitched up, “The red-haired male is definitely the prettiest.”

“Easily.”

“We should do something about it.”

Tamlin smirked. “I have a few things in mind. They are not appropriate for the present company, though.”

“Ah, so we're going to fuck him.”

“Another night, maybe. Some pretty female offered to ride me earlier. I'd like to take her up on that.” You felt Tamlin tug both sides of the bond, excusing you both to retire for the night and informing Lucien of where to find you both. “If she'd still like to that is.”

Your eyes had already gone slightly hazed, fingers intertwining more with his. “Yes please.”

“Then I've had the perfect birthday. A date with my husband. Sex with my wife. A party. What more could a simple high lord ask for.”

“A threesome!” A familiar voice appeared next to you, smile bright and voice breathless. “A birthday threesome.”

General Taglist:

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanagers @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho @mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium @loneliestluvr @eternallyelvish @azrielsmate3 @daughterofthemoons-stuff @meritxellao @aria-chikage @hungryforbatboys @lilah-asteria

Poly+ACOTAR Week Taglist

@amara-moonlight @toporecall @littlestw01f @prettylittlewrites @anuttellaa @nayaniasworld @123345566

#acotar #acotar x reader #tamcien #tamcien x reader #tamlin x reader x lucien #trouple visibility #consensual non monogamy #polyamorous visibility #poly+acotarweek 2024 #poly!acotarweek 2024 d6 #tamlin x reader #lucien x tamlin #lucien x reader #tamlin acotar #lucien acotar #lucien vanserra acotar #lucien vandaddy

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lucychanart · 1 month

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Happy birthday queen @praetorqueenreyna ♥️

(I forgot Lucien’s scar nooooooooo)

#tamcien #headcanon #tamlin #lucien vanserra #tamlin x lucien #tamlin acotar #acotar fanart #art #my art #digital illustration #illustration #digital art #doodle

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katsheadinclouds · 2 months

Text

Summer nights, you and I

Lucien Flores x f!plus-size!reader

summary: You explore your feelings for your high school sweetheart, who comes to your birthday party.

warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, bad communication, mention of drinking, no mention of pronouns for reader but body parts are mentioned, reader wears a dress and has hair, smut, car sex in a public place, unprotected PiV sex (wrap it up folks!). No use of y/n. Not beta read. If I forgot something, let me know!

word count: 3.7k

notes: Happy birthday weekend to me! Yesterday, when I saw the new pictures and videos of one mr. Lucien Flores, my brain got fried, and inspiration hit me. I ended up writing this thing in the middle of the night and thought I’d share it now to celebrate me turning 30!

dividers by saradika-graphics

He watches you mingle in the crowd, eyes following your every move. People talk with him, to him, but the words slip out of his head as soon as he hears them. He watches as you laugh at a joke someone tells you. He watches you listen to someone. He watches the arch of your lips when you answer someone’s question, how your tongue drags over the softness as you wet them before sipping on your drink.

He knows you’re aware of him. He sees it in the way you turn around if you get too close to him. He sees your head twist away after you’ve locked your eyes on him when you think he hasn’t noticed. It’s in the way you pretend to not see him even when you’re facing him, trying to force yourself to stay present in the conversation you’re engaged in.

But every few seconds your eyes drift to watch him past the guest’s face. Your shoulders tense up, you breathe a little deeper, and you try so hard to not let his presence deter you from the deep desire to keep your head straight. You told him that you two can’t keep seeing each other. You told him that repeatedly; every time you came knocking on his door at odd hours of the night, every time you called him to ask if he was free the next weekend, every time you sighed out his name when his mouth was buried between the roundness of your thighs. It was a reflex. A chanting wish to keep yourself from him.

Yet every time you came back, saying the same thing, “we can’t keep seeing each other like this.”

He had looked at you under his brow, ready to indulge you in the orange gloom of the streetlights glowing in through the window. “How do you want to see me then?” He mocked.

He didn’t expect to be pushed on his back, your fingers gently around his throat, your hot palm against his feverish skin, your lips against his ear, “I don’t,” you whispered. Almost like it was an emphasis on your resoluteness, you rose to your knees and guided him into you. Your arousal pooled instantly at the base of his cock when you heard him moaning. He dug his fingers against your ass and helped you ride him until your thighs were burning. Here you were, trying to meet all your guests in the dusky garden you had rented for your birthday party. “I don’t want you there,” you had said when you gave him the invite.

“Then I won’t come there,” he answered. You gave him a long look, your fingers pressed against his before you turned on your heels and left his place before the sun rose.

Here you were, avoiding him at your own party, trying to act nonchalant about the man who you wanted in every way but never wanted to admit it even to yourself. You knew how people saw him. How they’d see you if they knew about you two.

You were always the good one, ready to help, never backing out even in the bleakest situations. People trusted you, and you gave all of them a reason to do that. Lucien on the other hand, he is nothing like you.

He has always been the quiet rebel, the one with the free spirit who sometimes disappears without a word to chase his dreams and wants. Untrustworthy, ready to jump when everyone else expected him to stand still. You can’t accept that he has changed, even when he tries to prove it to you.

You knew you couldn’t get attached like you had when you two were teenagers, with heated cheeks and coy smiles. Back then you were shy and your hands always shook when you wanted to touch him. Even if it was just to hold his hand or to push his unruly curls off his eyes.

The kisses back then were timid, full of nerves, when either of you weren’t used to having someone so close yet. The teenage romance ended before it even had a chance to properly start. He left and you stayed. Your tears were never ending, they dried out your soul. The hope for feeling like you had someone you could trust to stand with you, to have someone in your corner, withered away. It was by accident when he saw you again. At a coffee shop on a busy Tuesday morning. He could recognize your voice from a mile away and the smile in your eyes when you thanked the barista for your coffee. And the curve of your lips that you licked with the tip of your tongue before you took a sip.

He didn’t know if he should call out for you or let you go. He did neither. He was on his feet before he had the chance to decide, and stood in your way as you were heading outside with your takeout cup, smiling at something on your phone. You almost crashed into him, barely catching yourself before you spilled your coffee on his chest.

“Excuse me,” the annoyance was palpable, but when you looked up and saw his face, the realization hit you like a train.

“Lucien,” you half whispered with wide eyes in the full coffee shop. He was so close he could smell the mint in your breath from your toothpaste.

“Long time no see,” his mouth found a crooked smile and you gasped out a laugh, not believing that he was standing in front of you, not knowing what to do next. It wasn’t forbidden. The love he feels for you, or the love you feel for him. You’re protecting yourself, he knows that. You don’t want to feel like you’ve lost something when he decides to leave again. You don’t want to find yourself alone again. You don’t want to feel like you’ve been abandoned again.

You were inseparable for a while. He was a lifeline for you when you felt most lonely, without friends and belonging in any group that had formed at school. He was a friend, first and foremost, then your first love.

By the end of it he was nothing when he followed his dad to another state one summer. So, you keep telling him that you can’t meet anymore. That it’s not wise to see each other anymore. That this is the last time, before you come back again and tell him the same things again and again. “Happy birthday,” he finally finds you alone by the drinks table, catching your breath after all the socializing and meaningless conversations with people you’ve collected throughout the years to make yourself a safety net that has holes in it. You had said it yourself, “I don’t belong with these people, I don’t know why I think they’re my friends.”

“Thank you,” your quiet voice trembles when you face him and look at him deep in his eyes.

“I have something —,” he begins, but is cut off by the other people who burst into explosive laughter. The sound is a mix of joyful and horrifying at the same time, too loud yet held back.

“Come,” he takes your hand and pulls you away towards the gates of the garden, getting further from the party and the droning chatter with every step. You hold onto his hand with your fingers twined with his and let him take you anywhere he wants.

He opens the doors of his car but pulls you to his chest before pushing your back against the side of the ride. Your hands reflexively reach for his shoulders and drag him in. Your hungry mouth is about to repeat your script but gets distracted by his lips and the wet glide of his tongue against yours. “What were you about to say out there?” You groan when he sucks at the soft flesh right under your jaw.

“That I have something for you,” the low murmur of his voice makes shivers run down your spine. Your hands don’t shake anymore when you reach for his kisses, when you reach for his belt and pant against his mouth when the now familiar feeling of his tongue fills your mouth. Smoothly he reaches behind your back and pulls the door open, leading you to the backseat. The pleasant mildness of the night feels scorching in the closed car. The windows are fogged up and your hand is slipping against the glass when he buries himself snuggly into you. Your breath catches in your throat every time he reaches that place deep inside you. He makes you discover the fine line between pleasure and pain with every stroke.

He’s careful with it, making sure you never cross that line to painful but teeter on the brink of it. Who would’ve guessed you’d be getting fucked in Lucien’s car by the end of the night, sweat pouring out of your pores, feeling spread open and the intense pleasure with every stroke of his cock in the tightness of your pussy, electrifying your spine and travelling in waves up and down your back. He licks at the side of your neck, a long stripe from your collarbone up to your jaw. He plants soft kisses along it until he reaches your lips. Slowly he lifts himself up to look at you, hovering over you.

His arms are like a cage on either side of you, your leg trapped against his arm. If you were to straighten it, your toes would tickle the dark lining on the roof of the car. The chains around his neck sway with every thrust, all ending up tickling the centre of your chest. You reach for them and wrap them once around your finger.

“I want you to be rough,” you tell him. He looks at you, the seriousness in your eyes. He’d like to wipe away your fears, your need to push him away while simultaneously pulling him in. He considers it, giving you what you ask for. But it’s only part of the script you’ve written in your head to feel better if he were to leave again.

“No,” he says and leans down, touching his lips feather light against yours. He rocks down and watches you take a deep breath. He feels you pulse around his cock, adjusting to the slow invasion. “I’ll give you rough when you believe when I say I’m not going anywhere. Not without you.” He sees your resolve crumble immediately. You’ve been caught, you both know it. You’ve kept yourself from feeling anything for Lucien while feeling so much for him at the same time, so much so that it has turned overwhelming. Your protection has turned into self-sabotage when he’s the one reaching out while he watches you build even higher walls around yourself.

He moves slow, almost pulling out completely, before pushing back in with a slow roll of his hips, until his pelvis is flush against yours and another breath is drawn out of your lungs. You wrap your hand around the back of his neck, your fingers winding around the curls at the base of it, forcing him to hold his forehead against yours. The chains slip from your hand and hang loose once again. They tap against your chin with every little move he makes.

“I want to hear it,” his voice rumbles and buzzes in your ears. You squeeze your eyes shut tight, while he demands your attention with the push of his hips. The arm that was supporting your leg at the bend of his elbow suddenly secures the sole of your foot against the passenger seat while your ankle presses against the center console.

You open your eyes just as you feel his fingers slip between your legs, his thumb finding your slicked clit without much trouble like he has mapped out how you like to be touched. He gathers even more of your wetness from around his cock and circles the sensitive nerve endings in sweet circles, making your eyes roll back into your head and your back arch off the leather seats.

“Tell me,” he demands softly, bringing you back from losing yourself to the pleasure. He doesn’t stop touching you, only slows down the circles, just like he slows down his thrusts to be a continuous movement, in and out, keeping your pleasure on high alert and your orgasm ever present, but not letting it take you away from him, not just yet.

“What?” You gasp out when he once again reaches deep, tilting his hips up.

“Tell me you believe I’m not going, and I’ll give you rough.” You moan out at the feel of his thumb suddenly losing pressure for it to only move up and down against your clit.

The words are on your tongue, catching the humidity of his breath. You’d want to believe him, you’d love to believe him. But you can’t.

You know this isn’t the first time he’s back in the city. He has come and gone many times, and you’ve only heard about it afterwards, when he’s long gone already. And every time, even when you hadn’t seen him, it had reminded you of how he left when you were still a couple of kids, trying to navigate the world that seemed too big and too small at the same time.

You’d want to tell him you believe him. You’d want to have enough faith in yourself to not break apart when he will eventually leave. You’ve been seeing each other for a couple of months now, but the fear is still there, only growing stronger. You wait for the moment, when he’s just gone.

You force yourself to look at him in the eye, to see the dark pleading in them. To believe him. He sees the same in yours. To not hurt you. He shoves himself in you and holds the tears in your eyes with heartbreak in his.

He gets it. There’s nothing he can do, or say, to make you change your mind about him. He pushes himself up and runs his large hand down your soft side, his thumb tracing the line of your bra under your breast.

You brace yourself for what he’s about to do when your request from earlier hangs heavily in the humid air between the two of you. His eyes rake down your clothed front, sees the budding bruises of his mouth right by the edges of your bra. Your dress, which he hiked up to your waist, has gathered the few drops of sweat that have dripped down from his face.

Last, his eyes fixate on the gleam of your lips around his length, how he still hasn’t stopped the push and pull of his hips, drawing out more and more of your slick. He thumbs at where you’re joined, earning a groan from you that invites him closer to cumming. It’s your final warning for what’s to come.

The air smells of sex, heady and thick. He grinds his teeth together and breathes deep. His thighs are on fire from kneeling between your legs for so long. Some of the seams on the seats chafe against his legs.

“Just do it,” you cry out. Your voice isn’t only asking for him to take you however he pleases. You’re pleading for him to do what you expect from him. To take what he wants, and to leave.

Without waiting any longer, he digs his fingers into your hip, squeezes the supple roundness of your bottom and slams himself into you, starting a ruthless rhythm. You scream out before you manage to cover your mouth with your hands. You breathe harshly between your fingers while he takes and takes, forcing you to gasp out your moans.

It's too much, his hold, his thumb on your clit, the thickness of him between your legs, in you, his grunts and heavy breaths that intoxicate you. You love to hear his voice when he’s close. It’s the most erotic sound you could ever think of. You record it in your mind, only to repeat to yourself when you know thinking about these moments together won’t cause too much pain.

He does this thing where he reaches deep inside you, presses his whole length against the squishy, most sensitive parts of your flesh, and uses it with abandon. You can’t hold in your moans behind your hands anymore; the sound only turns into whimpering screams.

He doesn’t stop. He’s giving you what you wished. Your birthday wish. He abuses the softness of your pussy repeatedly. He forces your palms off your mouth and wraps his hand around them to push them against the door so you can scream your pleasure into his mouth.

Your blissful climax topples you off your awareness. There’s only Lucien, guiding you through your orgasm with slowing thrusts when you squeeze around him. He gasps into your mouth and licks into it, against your tongue, and lets you ride it out, but he doesn’t stop.

He listens to your whines and makes them the sound that encourage him to cum. With weak arms you fight his hand off yours, and wrap them around him, the other under his silky shirt, the other in his thick, damp curls.

You kiss him with newfound fervor, barely hanging on to your rationality while he makes you forget yourself in the intense pleasure. Pins and needles run up and down your skin, it’s almost painful.

“Let go for me, Lucien, cum for me,” you manage to mumble against his lips. He gives out a ragged moan when the grind of his hips stutters. His whole body trembles. Sweat pours down his temples, down his neck, and his chest glistens in the half light of the hidden parking lot with a blush that has crept up to his cheeks.

He catches his breath against your neck with shuddering exhales, his moans heating your skin. You massage the back of his neck and allow yourself to close your eyes. You imagine what it would be like to let him love you, to let yourself relax without any uncertainty. You’re still split open by him, and if you could, you wouldn’t mind staying like this for longer.

Lucien opens the door and lets the cooling night air slip into the car. You push yourself up and with shaky fingers try to close the buttons that will hide the hickeys he left on your breasts.

He leans his head back against the headrest. He pushes his hand through his drying curls, leaving them tousled. You try your best to make your hands stop shaking, but they don’t. It almost seems like it’s getting worse.

“Let me,” he whispers, and you’re met with his quietness as he reaches towards you and steadily fastens the small buttons, covering your skin.

“Lean back,” he tells you and you do as he wishes. He gets something off the floor, which you recognize as the lace of your panties. He maneuvers them on you, and up your legs until you have to push your hips up and you replace his hands with yours. He sees the mess between your legs, his cum that is slicking the insides of your thighs.

“Was this what you wanted to give me?” You ask, almost hopeful that he’ll say yes. He looks up as he lifts his own hips to pull his trousers back up the rest of the way, closing the button right under the softness of his belly.

He shakes his head once and accompanies it with a chuckle. His eyes stay the same, rich and admiring, serious and playful at the same time. He buttons up his shirt while you put space between the two of you.

Suddenly, even after all the times you’ve fucked, you’re nervous. You don’t like to feel vulnerable around him, when it only means that you’re putting yourself at risk.

“No,” he finally says and reaches for the center console between the two front seats. Inside is a small box that he hands to you.

“Happy birthday.” It comes out so much deeper than it did before, full of the remains of his lust for you. You take the box and manage to get it open.

“It reminded me of you,” he says when you see a small, dark green gemstone pendant on a thin chain. You swallow against the dryness of your throat and touch it with the tips of your fingers.

“Let me,” he tells you softly and takes the box from you. You turn your back to him and close your eyes to fight the tears that are threatening to spill onto your cheeks.

The chain feels cool at first, but then burning hot when he closes the lock behind your neck and traces the metal against your skin. You turn back towards him and look at the gem between your fingers. Even in this faint light you can discover vivid red flakes on the surface.

“Thank you,” you reach for him and close him inside your arms. He buries his face against your neck and kisses it, the chain pressing between his lips and your skin.

“Want to go back?” He asks and with a trembling sigh you separate from him. You let him pull you out of the car and to your feet.

He straightens your clothes. The dress you chose to wear just because you knew he’d like it on you and which you hoped he’d take off you. He brushes his thumbs under your eyes and over your forehead and combs his fingers through your hair to make you look at least somewhat like you weren’t just fucked in someone’s car. The fresh air clears your head. It cools the deep burning in your chest and the dripping cum in your panties. It lets you close your heart from him again.

“Yes,” you say and lead him back towards the party, while you’d want to turn around, get back into his car and ask him to drive you away from here. He could take you anywhere, and you wouldn’t say no.

#lucien flores x reader #lucien flores x f!reader #lucien flores x female reader #lucien flores x you #lucien flores x f!plus-size!reader #lucien flores x plus-size!reader #lucien flores smut #lucien flores fic #lucien flores fanfic #lucien flores fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character fanfiction #katsheadincloudswrites #summer nights you and I

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cillianhead · 7 months

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Some sub!Neil Lewis would save my life right now I think 💋😋

Oh my gosh! Ask and you shall receive. I'm so excited this is my first request <3

(Also I'm so sorry if you didn't want this to be smutty, I'd be more than happy to also write some fluffy stuff!)

Pussy-Whipped || Sub!Neil Lewis x Reader

summary: When Gumshoe Video hosts a small Halloween party, Neil can't help but feel disappointed you're not there.

Warnings: SMUT!!! 18+ Minors DNI, pussy eating, vulgar language, possibly poor writing from me (barely edited.), let me know if there is anything else I'm missing!

Neil had gathered a decent sized group of people to have over at the store for Halloween night. It was nothing too major but it was definitely a good sized party. There was plenty of snacks and drinks, couples making out against walls, people debating on whether Christmas was better than Halloween. Really, it was a perfect little party, people were having a great time. Halloween music played, fake cobwebs lined the walls, fake spiders, you know, all that jazz. Later on at Gumshoe Video, there would be a couple of scary movies playing to really celebrate the occasion. Well unfortunately it was missing one key feature.

You.

It left Neil feeling easily irritated and whiny all night. He was all dressed up as Dracula from the 1931 film. The most important piece was missing to him of course. Lucien and Jonathan would tease him for being so grumpy.

"You'd probably give up this store just to see her again, huh?" Lucien was grinning at him, enjoying seeing Neil suffer.

"Shut up, man," Neil just smiled uncomfortably, sick of their teasing, nudging Jonathan with a huff.

"You're pussy-whipped." Jonathan said before Neil slipped into his office, which was strictly off limits during the party.

You had already made plans with some of your friends, weeks prior. Some halloween party that was also a birthday party for a good friend, you promised Neil though that you would show up to the store afterwards. He was starting to doubt you would.

Neil always worried you thought he was too lame or you were way too out of his league. You would roll your eyes every time and just give him a reassuring kiss.

Feeling down, he sat in his office chair, swivelling around and twiddling his thumbs. He missed you, it had been a few days since you had seen each other, both busy with work, he was shaking with anticipation at even the tiniest possibility of seeing you.

To be honest, Neil was a needy little thing. He struggled going even a day or two without seeing you. And oh how fucking his fist could never compare to fucking you. God, even just thinking about your pussy, he could feel his trousers tighten and he threw his head back with a groan.

A zip and a tug could be heard as he slipped his hand down his pants, teasing the tip of his pink cock with his thumb. Whining quietly, precum staining his cotton briefs. Fuck, he didn't expect to be walked in on, touching himself like a pervert.

"Neil?" Your voice. He quickly swivelled his chair back around, facing the doorway to look at you like a deer that had been caught in headlights. Neil just coughed, trying to act casual, trying to pretend he hadn't just been thinking about having your tits in his mouth. But he knew you knew.

"H-Hey!" He looked you up and down, a sheepish smile and flushed cheeks as he looked at what you were wearing. A white corset, laced up tightly, hugging the perfect curves of your body. A sorry excuse of a dress tightly clinging to your skin underneath it, your hair had been pulled down out of the hairdo you had it in previously so it fell messily over your shoulders and white stockings adorned your thighs. He could cum looking at you then and there. He wasn't really sure what you were supposed to be but he didn't really care at this point in time.

"What were you up to, my love?" Sauntering over to him and rounding the table to get closer to him. Neil looked up at you like a lost puppy as you sat down on the edge of the table. The smell of your perfume made him feel like he could pass out, you were intoxicating. "You miss me?" "Yeah... yeah... I did..." Neil nodded dumbly, looking at your pretty lips that he hadn't gotten the chance to taste in oh so long. "Missed you so much, you've all I've been thinking 'bout." You held onto his chin, smiling at him knowingly.

"Looked everywhere for you, thought you'd be out with the rest of the party, Neil baby."

"S-sorry... I just..." His head hung low, feeling embarrassed for being so needy. "I just really missed you... didn't feel like hanging out with any of those people..."

You just kept smiling at him sweetly and his eyes watched as you casually shimmied down your panties, sticky and wet as you tossed them behind you. The skirt of your dress didn't cover the sight of your bare cunt and as you leaned against his desk, spreading your legs for Neil to see better in the low light of his office, he didn't hesitate to dive right in, knowing what to do. Desperate to taste you, like a dog that hasn't eaten in weeks. He moaned at the taste, eyes rolling back in his skull as he was gifted with your wet pussy against his face.

"That's fuckin' it," You moaned, letting your head lean back as he made out with your pussy. "Show me how much you missed me, Neil..." Your mouth was agape, he always ate you out like his life depended on it.

Your fingers in his hair, pushing his face deeper into your soaking core only encouraged him further, causing him to groan into you. Your clit fit perfectly between his pretty lips as you desperately ground your cunt against his face, his nose just perfectly caressing you. His tongue poked inside you, flicking up to the spot where you needed him most.

"God! Fuck... you're such a good boy... so good for me...!" Gasping out. This was all Neil needed, he didn't care if he wasn't allowed to get off for the rest of his life, as long as he had you, to touch and to taste, he didn't care, you were all he needed. The sound of you whimpering loudly made his cock throb, he felt like he was close to cumming himself. Neil always described it as heaven on earth, when you came on his face, he felt like he had accomplished all he was good for. "Want me to cum on your face, pretty?" You let out, sensitive and so turned on seeing Neil down on his knees, looking so content with life as he sloppily ate you up.

"Please..." He mumbled obediently before letting you continue to fuck his face. His tongue was pressed flat against your clit as you came, further wetting his face, what makeup he had on for Dracula now smudged across his face and your inner thighs. He kept slurping your juices up until you tugged his face away. Glistening and a dumb dopey smile on Neil's face was the sight that met you.

"I missed you so much, baby," Still recovering, you leaned down and gave him a gentle loving kiss. His tongue flicked out to the corners of his mouth, licking the juices that were still on his face. "You did so good." He blushed at the praise. You always thought he could never look prettier, red cheeks, big blue eyes, and your cum dripping off of his nose and chin with that big satisfied smile.

"I love you..." He whispered, placing a small kiss on your clit before standing up and connecting your lips once again. "Love you so much..."

Hope you enjoyed :)

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #cillian x reader #cillian murphy fanfic #neil lewis #neil lewis smut #neil lewis x reader #watching the detectives #cillian murphy x reader #thomas shelby #tommy shelby #peaky blinders #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders x reader #smut

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thelov3lybookworm · 7 months

Text

Caged In

Summary: siblings make their younger siblings' life a living hell. At least, that's what Lucien and Y/n seem to think.

•○●⛦●○•

A/n: I totally forgot about the week until this morning, and I panicked 🤦‍♀️ I decided I'd do free day, but i couldn't resist writing for baby Lucien. So here's something for @lucienweekofficial

•○🌑○•

Lucien stared at the stars as he stood on the front porch of the River House. He did nothing but stare at those twinkling stars.

Oh, he wondered how it would feel like to be up there, nothing burdening him, no care in the world. No fear of being kicked out, no thoughts of not belonging.

He wondered what it would feel like to belong for once.

But well, he was apparently fated to always keep wondering.

He heaved a deep sigh as he listened to the laughter and cheers coming from inside the house, the inner circle celebrating Feyre's birthday.

He had come to Velaris, convincing himself he was here only to deliver some reports to Rhys, and nothing more. But deep down, he knew he wanted to be present for Feyre's birthday. He had also brought a gift for her.

But when he had knocked on the door, he had found himself staring into shocked eyes of Feyre, who then covered it up as happiness of seeing him. But he knew that she had forgotten about him, and he didn't want to care. Told himself he didn't care. But of course, he did care.

More than he should care.

But he was Lucien, and he always cared more than he should.

He still cared about his brothers, and maybe a small part of him even wondered about Beron occasionally. And if that didn't say how much he gave a fuck about people, then he didn't know what did.

He had politely declined Feyre's offer to stay for dinner, and she had simply nodded. So he had walked out the door with a smile on his face as he waved at Feyre and Nyx.

But he hadn't been able to winnow back to the human lands, his heart wouldn't let him, for some reason.

That's when he heard a muffled thud from his left, and he glanced that way, his brows furrowing. He glanced to his right, where he could see the light from where the inner circle was gathered.

He decided to investigate what the sound was before he left.

He found something more peculiar than he thought he would.

There, from the bushes around the house, was a leg sticking out at an odd angle. As he watched, amusement making his lips twitch, a hand emerged, and then another before her head poked out from the flora.

The dark haired beauty glanced up, branches and leaves sticking up from her hair, a little scrape on her cheek, and gave Lucien a sheepish smile.

"Are you going to help me or simply stand there and look gorgeous?" Y/n whisper yelled.

Lucien let himself smirk as he made his way over. "You think I am gorgeous?"

She immediatley started blushing, and when he extended his hand towards her, the flush on her cheeks deepened. He pulled her up without a sound, without her having to use her strength.

As soon as she was stable on her feet, she gaped at him.

"You are very strong it seems." She poked at his biceps.

He laughed quietly. "What were you doing in there?"

She pulled her hand back, folding her arms across her chest indignantly as she huffed. "Well, I don't see how that concerns you."

"It concerns me very much so because if your brother finds out that I found you tangled in a bush, and he wasn't informed, I'll lose my position as the emissary."

"Come on, you don't have to be an asshole about it."

"I am not being an asshole, my lady. I'm just trying to understand what is going on. After all, it's not everyday that you find a beautiful lady in the bushes, covered in mud and... mother knows what."

She rolled her eyes. "Fine. I'm trying to run away." A flash of mischief entered her eyes, and Lucien immediately knew she was trouble. After all, she was Cassian's sister.

"Y/n, whatever you are thinking, please stop thinking it."

She smirked and stalked towards him. "Come on Lucien, will you not help a lonely female in need of it?" He groaned lowly, and she took that as her inspiration to continue. "You just have to help me get away, give me a place to rest and live in for sometime, and I'll leave you alone."

"And what do I get out of it? As far as I know, I will lose my position as emissary. I don't see any benefit in helping you."

Y/n glared at him for a moment, then as if coming to a decision, she straightened. She looked nervous, her wings fluttering and stretching as she opened her mouth again.

"Look, Lucien... I know something you don't. There is something the inner circle has been hiding from you, and I think you deserve to know about it. But in typical inner circle fashion, they voted on whether to tell you about it or not. Again, I think you deserve to know. If you help me get out and give me a place to live in for sometime as I figure out what I'm going to do, I'll tell you about it."

A pang echoed through Lucien's being. He knew the inner circle didn't care about him, but voting on whether to tell him something seemed to be taking things a little too far. Especially if it was something important, as Y/n had mentioned.

He eyed her as she shifted. "Why would I want to do that?"

"Please Lucien. I need to leave. Please." She searched his eyes.

"Fine. Tell me the reason you are leaving, as well as the information you say they are hiding from me, and I'll help you escape."

"My brother has become overbearing and overprotective, to the point where he won't even let me leave the house. He was overprotective from the beginning, but since Nyx's birth, he has somehow become even more so. I haven't left the house in over two months now, and it's getting irritating. It seems I haven't spread my wings properly in what feels like years." Her voice quieted. "I feel like I am caged in."

Lucien considered it for a moment, and then sighed. "Very well. I'll take you to the human lands." After a moment he added. "Seems like brothers are always overbearing."

Y/n grinned, holding her hand out. He took it, his lips twitching. "You will have to tell me that secret too."

She nodded enthusiastically. She opened her mouth again, but before she could speak, they heard the booming voice of Cassian calling for his little sister, and her eyes went wide.

Lucien swallowed, then grabbed her around the waist after she had taken hold of the bag nearby, and winnowed away.

What he did was stupid, but after all, he knew all about the feeling of not belonging, of wanting to run away because the place he was in was stopping him from reaching his full potential, caging him in his own body and their beliefs.

He was ready to face the consequences, but at least he was saving someone from the same fate as his.

At least he hoped he was.

•○🌑○•

Part 2

General Taglist: @bubybubsters @eos-princess @nightless @lizziesfirstwife

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