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Summary
“El—I don’t think you should touch it—” Quentin draws in a breath, and the fragrance fills his senses. Not a false fragrance like perfume, but sweet like syrup on pancakes or—he takes in another breath. Whatever it is diffuses through him, fizzier and lighter than the champagne, fuzzy warmth spreading through his nerves, his cells lit from within. When his hand glances against Eliot’s knee, a jolt hits him, like a zap of static electricity running up his arm, turning to flame inside. He can smell Eliot, the scent of his cologne spicy and masculine, mixing with the sweet, burnt sugar scent of the pollen.
“You—do you feel that?” Eliot’s knuckles brush against his and Quentin whimpers at the touch, the hair on his arm standing on end.
“Yeah—oh.” Quentin gasps. He blinks at the shimmering air. It makes everything look like a misty fairytale, and when he glances at Eliot again, a shockwave rolls through him, the muscles in his abdomen clenching, threads of need rolling up and weaving together inside him, swirling in the pit of his stomach. Eliot is—God, he’s exquisite. Quentin wants to worship him—fuck, he was meant to—to fall at his feet, to offer himself, mouth open, to serve him, give him pleasure.
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“Eliot, come on, someone will see,” Q says, but he doesn’t actually move an inch from where Eliot’s got him pressed up against the Muntjac’s railing, or try to bat away the hand that Eliot’s snaking underneath the top of the little sailor’s outfit he managed to find somewhere.
It should be ridiculous. Seeing Q standing there on the deck, slashing at the air with his sword like a dork had made Eliot want to laugh - for about one second. Then Q had turned around and seen Eliot, and smiled at him, so fucking big and bright and happy, all wind-swept and flushed with the sun and the excitement of the quest, and the laughter had died on Eliot’s lips, replaced with something way more embarrassing.
AU from the end of 3x05 - Eliot doesn't reject Q and they go on the boating quest together! Tumblr prompt meme repost.
Series
- Part 17 of Tumblr & Twitter ficlets
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Margo, Eliot and Quentin play a game.
Or: Margo thinks love is bullshit, and she isn't going down without a fight.
Series
- Part 2 of Other People
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It's just casual sex, that's all. Catching feelings is for other people.
Series
- Part 1 of Other People
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i didn't know i was lonely (until i saw your face) by portraitofemmy
Fandoms: The Magicians (TV)
20 Jan 2021
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When he stops to think about it, he doesn’t really think he's jealous, not of— not of the attention Eliot gets, anyway. Of his ease with magic, sure, maybe, but Eliot’s been at Brakebills two years longer than Quentin. It’d be weird if he wasn’t better at magic than Quentin. Jealous of Eliot’s comfort in himself, well— possibly. He’s always been a little jealous of anyone who seems at ease in their own skin, in a way Quentin doesn’t think he’ll ever be.
But he’s not jealous of Eliot Waugh, ideal omega. That’s not something Quentin’s ever wanted to be.
So why can’t he stop thinking about him?
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i'll press you to the pages of my heart by hoko_onchi for mixtapestar
Fandoms: The Magicians (TV)
14 Jan 2021
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Quentin does as he’s told, walking mechanically to the comfortable chair in the corner, tucking his knees up and flipping through the pages of the book, his dick twitching as he looks through the spells, which are all accompanied by very graphic illustrations of positions and firsthand accounts of the ‘pleasures of the body.’ By the time Eliot’s done with his shift, Quentin is almost uncomfortably hard, and he’s pliant when Eliot takes him by the hand. He slings his messenger bag over his front and clutches the book to his chest.
“Ready, sweet thing?” Eliot takes him by the hand, and Quentin just looks down at his feet. “You pick something out?”
"I think so."
“Speak up,” Eliot says. “And look at me.”
It’s silly how the image of a king sticks with him, how it springs into Quentin’s mind when he meets Eliot’s gaze. Regal and commanding, making Quentin feel like a serving boy or a villager. “Yes. I chose. One of the first ones. Seems simple.”
“Some of them are surprisingly complex. And we don’t really know each other,” Eliot whispers. “You sure you want this?”
Quentin nods, sheepish.
“I’m taking off, Kady,” Eliot calls, “after I finish helping this customer.”
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beat the blessed earth with our heartbeats by hoko_onchi for RedBlazer
Fandoms: The Magicians (TV)
29 Dec 2020
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“What is it that you’re trying to do here?” Eliot's words are tinged with good natured amusement; that should put Quentin on the defensive. Instead, his whole body relaxes, reacting to Eliot’s calm, steady scent, the slight rumble of his voice.
He leans toward Eliot, eyes wide, inhaling deeply and stifling the whine that starts to rise in his throat. Jesus fuck. Quentin is a hormonal nightmare. He shouldn’t be allowed in any public space. Ever. But certainly not within a few weeks of his heat. Jesus.
“Um. I’m—strawberry patch. The landscape fabric—”
A grin spreads across Eliot’s face, and Quentin just gives up. He can’t be expected to form a complete thought when he’s just the right height to focus on Eliot’s collarbones, his eyes wandering to the scent gland on Eliot’s right side, which—barely there, just a slightly darker patch of skin—sits just above the collar of his shirt. He takes a deep breath and lets it out, trying not to do what he wants to do, which is whine, bury his face against Eliot’s neck, beg Eliot to hold him and scent him and make him smell like that.
But Quentin is a person, and Eliot is a person, and they’re both people, and Quentin can function, for fuck’s sake.
Series
- Part 1 of bathe our hallowed eyes in the moonlight
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In the low, silvery light of the moon, Eliot can see Quentin, clearly still asleep, the sheet kicked away from his body. Usually, he sleeps with an undershirt on, but tonight, he’d stripped down to just his boxers—his nipples are crinkled, his mouth open, his cock hard and straining against the fabric of his gray boxer briefs. The little moans falling from his lips are soft and breathy, and his hips are bucking up from the bed, like he’s trying to find something to push against.
Holy fucking gay Jesus—what the fuck—Eliot is going to lose his actual goddamn mind.
Eliot’s watching Quentin Coldwater have an actual sex dream. Here, in his bed, next to him, hair splayed out behind him on his Fillory and Further pillowcase.
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She doesn't really need to masturbate, with both of her boys around, but she does it anyway because it's fun.
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“Be my guest,” Quentin says. He wants to press his face into his pillow, but he’s a grown-ass man, and he can face a—a—lover. A lover? A fuck buddy. Best friend with deepthroating benefits. (And of course James can take Quentin’s dick all the way to the back of his throat with ease. He’s just average, not big. Like James.)
~~***~~
Eliot clears his throat.
“What?”
“Nothing,” Eliot says. He’s really not going to sink to this particular low. It would be impossible to explain that he’s not insecure; he’s just curious.
“It’s not nothing,” Quentin snarks, a cheeky little grin appearing on his face.
Eliot kisses his dimple. “It definitely is.”
“Look,” Quentin says, starting to laugh. “You’re not the only person in the world with a big dick—”
“That’s not what I was going to—”
“You didn’t invent big dicks, Eliot.”
“Oh my God. I wasn’t going to—”
“You have nothing to worry about. James isn’t in Fillory. So you’ve got the biggest cock of anyone in Fillory that I’ve fucked.”
Eliot scoffs. “I wasn’t going to ask about your sports-econ boyfriend’s dick.”
~~
Don't let the summary fool you. This is tender AF.Series
- Part 2 of the Quames agenda
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Quentin decides to give Eliot something he's always wanted.
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4 times in the mosaic timeline Quentin and Eliot jerked off separately + 1 time they jerked off together.
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Nervous Quentin, with his fidgeting hands and gentle avoidance, was never supposed to make the first move.
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So instead of thinking about his feelings, Eliot's focusing on the thing that should truly most concern Eliot Waugh, High King Of Hedonism And Spectacular Sex, Unburdened By Pesky Emotions: increasing the embarrassingly short amount of time it takes for Quentin to make him come.
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in the world full wrong (you're the thing that's right) by Mizzy
Fandoms: The Magicians (TV)
20 Dec 2019
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Eliot is known for his first-year boys. The pattern is simple: make them obsessed with him, love them thoroughly, and then leave them staring after him pathetically for the rest of the semester. Simple.
How he could know when he picked Quentin Coldwater as his next target that he'd picked entirely the wrong first-year boy to mess with? Maybe he was exactly the right one…
[First season, No-Beast AU. We live in happy denial land chez-Mizzy.]
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But his hindbrain takes over when he watches James chug white Gatorade, drops of it dribbling over his sharp jawline and down over his pecs. Quentin has imagined more than once being that drop of Gatorade. Or just—licking it off of him, sweet mixed with salty sweat, his tongue exploring the deep V that leads to the line of his cock.
Quentin guesses this is why people use the word ‘thirsty’ to describe the visceral sensation of lust. Because he actually wants to drink James. Every time he looks at James doing bro stuff—like just hanging on his fucking pull up bar, lifting weights in the hallway, folding his dumb basketball shorts—Quentin is parched.
*
“It’s like you were living in a gay Budweiser commercial," Eliot says. "I call bullshit on this whole fucking thing. He absolutely did not pour water on his face or spill white Gatorade all over his abs.”
“It was his chest, but. Like, you met James that one time—he’s real. And it did happen.”
Series
- Part 1 of the Quames agenda
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It’s hot, it’s so hot, too hot to fucking think, definitely too hot to play-fight. Everyone’s stripped down to their lightest clothing, Quentin and Eliot both in light linen shirts gaping open where they’re undone in the front. Arielle’s in her lightest dress, pastel green cloth embroidered with lavenders, and the right shoulder band has fallen down in the process of her drumming, hanging loosely in the middle of her upper arm.
It’s left her shoulder and collarbone exposed, creamy white skin flecked with freckles. Eliot’s been watching Quentin’s eyes flick down to her shoulder for the past 10 minutes. Like he hasn’t seen her naked enough to know every freckle on her body, like a glimpse of hidden skin is still exciting.
Queliot Week Day 5- Poly
Series
- Part 5 of measure in love
- Part 5 of Queliot Week 2019
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Eliot is startled, maybe, but he doesn’t pull away, doesn’t push Quentin off the bed. There’s a furrow in his brow. His lips are pink and wet, his cheeks wearing a slight flush. Something breaks open on his face, like light trying to peek through a boarded-up, forgotten window. “Q,” he starts. “We shouldn’t.”
Not I don’t want you or Get the fuck off of me. Just: We shouldn’t.
He cups the nape of Eliot’s neck, fingers tangling in his curls. “I just—I miss you.”
Something terribly conflicted blooms over Eliot’s face, and he rumbles, low in his throat. “This is a—” He brushes his lips featherlight against Quentin’s, sighing into his mouth. “—terrible idea. What—what are you doing? You don’t—you don’t want this.”
Quentin chases Eliot’s mouth, kissing him harder, more insistent. He pulls the bow of Eliot’s lips between his teeth. “I want you all the time. Wanna feel how bad I want you?” Quentin’s voice is rough, ragged. Eliot has always liked this, feeling how hard he gets, how much he wants. For Quentin, it never really stopped, stirring in the background, a restless eddy of attraction.
Series
- Part 1 of a panoply of song
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Summary
“What’s better than coaxing an ornery, twitchy boy into bed?” Margo asked.
“Coaxing his roommate into my bed,” Kady said.
“Point, Kady,” Margo said.
“I’m not doing it. I need a job. Not a Quentin. I can’t afford to take anyone out. And he said no. I’m going to be waiting tables in Jersey or—”
“Working on a goat farm. I know,” Margo said. “I know you love goats. And drama. It makes sense.” Eliot hated goats. Their eyes. They'd seen things.
Kady put her beer down with a thunk. “I’ll waive your rent for October.”
“You’ll what now?”
“I’ll pay for your date. Waive your rent. Just get Quentin to go to grad school prom with you so Julia will go with me.”
“Jesus, Kady,” Margo drawled. “What’s this girl’s deal? Does her pussy taste like cotton candy?”
Kady groaned. “I wouldn’t know.”
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love it when you need me by miscreants
Fandoms: The Magicians (TV), The Magicians - Lev Grossman
07 Aug 2020
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“I just can’t believe she said that,” Quentin says again, because he’s on a roll now. He fumbles with the glass he’s trying to pick up from the table. He just wants to bring it back to the bar. Be nice. Alice would always say he was being rude. “Like— Like me not wanting to— To push her around was grounds enough to end a three year relationship. And, like, who’s to say she always gave me what I wanted? Like, maybe I want to be pushed around. Did she ever consider that?”
Or: Quentin goes to a nightclub. Penny watches What We Do In the Shadows. Margo lurks at nerd bars.