#Car valet London | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

greenorangevioletgrass · 8 months ago

Text

fever pitch (b.b.) - part three

previous part | series masterlist

soundtrack: don't blame me - taylor swift pairing: footballer!bradley x popstar!reader synopsis: you and bradley spend the night, but the road to heaven is full of obstacles; some are external, others are self-inflicted. warnings: language, public scrutiny (will be a recurring theme in this fic ha!), bradley is a stand-up guy all round, fluff, smut (d/s elements, praise kink, bit of a bratty side?, fingering, oral [f receiving], dirty talk, size kink, bradley is PACKING, protected sex) notes: i'm back! life has been crazy since i posted the previous chapter, but i just wanna say thank you so so much for your patience and your kind words about the fic so far! big shoutout to @gretagerwigsmuse and @teacupsandtopgun for being absolutely GEMS in brainstorming ideas-- this wouldn't have happened if it weren't for y'all <3 happy reading!

✨I do not have a taglist. Please follow @ficsbygreenorangevioletgrass and turn on the notification to get the latest update on my fics✨

The Langham, Sterling Suite. Ask for Holly Golightly ;)

Bradley smiles at your text, and the cheeky “Breakfast at Tiffany’s” reference. He shoots up a quick reply as he makes his way out to the lobby, fighting hard not to be grinning like an idiot to any unassuming passersby, until—

Click-click-click-click! FLASH! FLASH! FLASH!

“Hey, it’s Bradley Bradshaw!”

“Oi, Bradley! Give us a smile, mate!”

“Bradley, did you get to meet Y/N inside?”

“Did the boss let you out on a school night, Bradley?”

”How are you feeling about the Sunderland game this weekend?”

It’s a meager distance from the steps of Annabel’s to the curb where the valet has brought out his car, but holy shit. It doesn’t usually get nearly as crazy as this. He’s partied here with Harry Styles, and nobody bat an eye when the guy stumbled out drunk with his left tit out. But maybe it’s because Harry lives in London sometimes, or maybe because he was on a break… unlike Miss Americana on her world tour right now. It makes him pause and rethink how careful he needs to be.

Bradley gets into his car and drives off, trying to tread between the fine line of quick and careful. He can’t help but look over the rearview mirror more often than normal. Fuck, is this how you feel like all the time? He’s no stranger to the spotlight, but rather than the occasional run-ins, nobody has ever been interested in where he went to dinner on a random Tuesday night.

The Langham is barely a mile away, but Bradley sees photographers parked across the hotel with their long-lens cameras and disgusting disposition, and he keeps on driving. Thinking. Restrategizing. Hoping that his vintage aubergine Ferrari isn’t causing suspicion for driving by the second and third time.

He finds a basement parking lot behind the building and pulls up, hoping it’s the right entrance to the hotel. The attendant looks starstruck as he nods and points the way, sending him off with an eager ‘Come on you Gunners!’. And just like that, he makes it into the lobby out of the pap’s sight.

Be cool, he reminds himself, you’re only as suspicious as you seem to be. He comes up to the reception desk, and the girl behind it greets him warmly.

“Good evening, sir. Welcome to the Langham. How may I help you?”

“I’m here to see Ms. Golightly at the Sterling Suite,” Bradley says smoothly. “Holly Golightly.”

“And who am I speaking with, sir?” The girl looks at him like he seems familiar, but can’t quite place him.

“...Paul Varjak,” he states, unable to bite back the smile. Oh, the thrill of giving out a fake name with the very real possibility of getting called out on his shit.

But she nods and grabs the telephone, dialing into your room. Blissfully ignorant of the pseudonym he just gave her.

Good.

Let this inside joke be the two of yours alone.

The elevator ride up is peaceful—too peaceful that he can hear his heart beating and his palms sweating. Even the carpet mutes his footsteps towards the double door. Before he even presses the bell, a bodyguard opens the door for him.

“Mr. Bradshaw,” he nods curtly. It’s one of the guys from the restaurant earlier. Middle-aged, stout and rather short, sporting a permanent scowl and a vibe that indicates he’s seen some shit.

“Hi. Sorry, I haven’t got your name…?”

“Guy,” he deadpans.

Bradley wonders if that’s his real name or he’s just saying it so Bradley would get off his case, but smiles anyway. “Nice to meet you, Guy.”

Guy hums gruffly and ushers him into the foyer, an identical hallway of the hotel, with a room on each side. “Through here,” he leads him towards another set of double doors at the end of the hallway.

Meanwhile, you are full-on freaking out in your living room. Should you get changed? You’ve taken off your heels, but getting everything off feels so premeditated… You don’t even know if he wants things to go that far. Maybe you can break your little rule and bring out the wine for liquid courage? Gosh, nothing feels right. And it’s been so long since you’ve last done this that you’ve actually gone rusty.

And before you get to decide—in the long, wasteful twenty minutes or so you’ve been pacing, you hear a knock on your door.

“Coming!”

You rush over to get the door and there he is, coming out victorious through the hurdles, smiling at you.

“Thanks, Guy. I’ll take it from here,” you dismiss your security a little too quickly, nodding over Bradley’s shoulder. You’re sure Guy is rolling his eyes all the way back to his room over your lovestruck teenager behavior.

But it hardly matters when this man before you is looking at you like the sun.

“Hey, you.” Bradley beams at you from his spot. As if afraid to invade your space somehow.

And so are you. This feels like that night in the garden all over again. You have to remind yourself that this isn’t some pocket of a park you stumbled into; this is your hotel room.

Quiet.

Private.

Safe.

“Come on in.” You let him cross the threshold, closing the door behind him the warm foyer light cast golden upon his face. You’re not sure if it’s the fact that you’ve ditched your six-inch heels, or that there’s no one else, but Bradley looks even taller than you remember him. Broader. More… imposing.

“I’m sorry for taking so long. There’s cameras everywhere and I had to—”

“It’s okay,” you try to reassure him. It feels rude to ask if he got caught on camera, but at this point, you had to ask. “Did you… Did they…?”

Bradley quickly shakes his head. “No, I took the basement entrance, out of sight. We’re good.”

”I’m, uh… sorry for the fuss.”

”Hey, it’s no trouble at all… Ms. Golightly,” he tilts his head, grinning at your chosen pseudonym.

”Yeah, it changes every time. My last stop in Tennessee, I was Clarice Starling,” you admit, making him laugh. “Although I’m glad you got the reference… Mr. Varjak.”

He simpers, very proud of himself. And with that, he takes a step closer to you. Towering over you. Crowding you with his smile, his scent, his body heat… and neither of you makes the first touch. You’re painfully aware of how his gaze keeps dropping to your lips. Bodies drawn towards each other but tied in place for some reason. It seems like despite all the flirting you did at the restaurant, everything goes out the window once you’re alone.

You’re just two strangers, caught in a thrilling game of push and pull. Too scared to tip over and just… fall.

“Can I kiss you…?” Bradley breathes out. He feels foolish for asking, but it’s the only way to make sure he’s not ruining the entire evening.

But you sigh in relief and nod your head yes, and it gives you the push you need to close the distance from him. You don’t know which one happened first; touching his lips with yours, grasping his arms for balance, or standing on your tiptoes on his shoes. He keeps you there, his strong hands securing your waist.

“You’re making me feel like a kid…” It makes you giggle into the kiss, and he can’t not possibly fall in love with the sound of that—with the feel of your lips pulled up right against his.

“I don’t think that’s a bad thing…” Bradley runs his hands down your sides gently. “Besides, I’ve been wanting to do that all night.”

“All night? You mean you’ve been thinking about making out with me while I tell you my life story?” you gasp, feigning shock and offense.

He laughs again. “Maybe for a moment or two there, I’ll admit.”

“I thought you were a gentleman!” you give him a playful smack on his behind, and there’s a flash of… something in his eyes. A spark, or a darkening. You’re not sure what it is yet, but it sends butterflies into your stomach yet again.

Bradley tucks some loose strands of your hair behind your ear. “I’m still a gentleman.”

“Really? I don’t believe that…” you sway his hips lightly, “I think you’re very… very bad,” you purr out, your lips barely touching.

He meets you halfway, and it feels like less of a shock this time. You gladly lose yourself in him, knowing you’ve crossed the line now. You finally notice how his mustache scratches your skin in a nice way, how he holds you flush against him, how he just melts into you in the kiss… enshrouding you in his warmth and lighting you on fire at the same time.

Bradley pulls away, barely just. His forehead is still pressed against yours, your noses are bumping, and his breath melding with yours. He licks his lips and you swear you can almost taste it. “You’re making it really hard for me to be a gentleman, kid…”

You can’t help but chuckle at the nickname. It’s not one you expect, but it sounds right somehow. “I didn’t invite you all the way here to be a gentleman.”

The twinkle in his eyes darken. Fuck, you’re gonna be the death of him. “Is that right?” Bradley’s hands slide down your hips, finding the swell of your ass and giving it a firm squeeze.

The air catches in your throat, and you swallow lightly. “Mm-hm.”

Instead, you lead him into the bedroom. Bradley is right behind you, barely a step behind. His hands have found a home on your hips and he seems adamant to stay there for a moment. Insisting to hold onto you because he worries he’ll get ahead of himself before you’re ready. But gosh, you’ve been ready all night and you’re practically twisting your arms around trying to reach the zipper on the back of your dress.

“Come here, I got you,” he rasps, his heart skipping as he drags the zipper down your back. He’s not sure which one he loves more; the dip of your spine that he wants to trace with your tongue, or the way the dress falls to the floor and reveals what’s underneath that prim and proper pink dress.

A tiny scrap of lace held by a black strap on either side of your hips, framing the swell of your ass perfectly.

And he swears, for a split second, he thought he had died and gone to heaven.

“Fuck…” he breathes out.

You can’t turn around fast enough. It might be a good ‘fuck’, but what if it’s a bad one? “What’s wrong?”

Bradley just blinks at you, for no other reason than how your nipples are poking out the side of the skimpy triangle of your bra. And that your lipstick is smeared on the edges from kissing him.

But of course, your mind is already racing from the lack of response and you’re already thinking, oh no this was a bad idea I shouldn’t have worn this—

“Hey, hey…” he sees your face fall and your arms come up to cover your chest and he immediately steps in. Holding you close, hoping to give you comfort. “Is this all for me?”

Oh, shit. Maybe if you close your eyes tight enough, you would melt to the floor. “I know, it’s a little much—”

“No, that’s not what I asked…” Bradley tilts your chin up, making you look him in the eye. “I said… Did you put these on for me?”

Your breath comes up short, and you nod ever so slightly. You don’t even trust your own voice not to betray how much you want him to like it. How much you want him.

“It’s perfect. I love it. Thank you.” He smiles into your lips, kissing you there. Spelling out how he feels with his hands on your ass, his mouth on yours. “Such a good girl…”

That flips a switch in your brain and he can see it. Your eyes go wide, your posture changes, and all of a sudden, you look so… small in his arms. So vulnerable, so beautiful. So perfect.

Suddenly, he’s holding the world in his arms. The sexy little thing you call panties is a pesky little nuisance now, and he can’t wait to get it off of you. His broad shoulders are keeping your legs open, his nose nuzzling your pubic bone as he looks up at you.

Bradley lowers you down on the side of the bed, settling on his knees before you. Committing every inch to memory by touch, from your ankle to your knee, up the inside of your thighs. When he reaches the scrap of fabric at your core, he feels it slick. He smirks. “What do we have here?”

Your face heats up. How the fuck are you supposed to answer that? No words are coming to your head—not when he’s drawing patterns over your pussy, making the lace glisten all over. And when your panties are positively ruined, he draws his hand back and licks the offending fingers in earnest.

And all it takes is a taste to send him into a frenzy.

“Fuck honey, need to taste you…” he murmurs between feverish kisses all over your legs. “Can I?”

You nod fervently, feeling like he’s got you under a spell.

“Use your words, kid.” He grins, playfully biting the inside of your thigh.

The sharp sensation makes you yelp, and you grip his hair in reflex. “Yes, want your mouth on me, please…”

“Good girl, asking so nicely…” he chuckles, satisfied with your response. Then, he pulls you to the edge of the bed. That dainty scrap of lace you call panties is a pesky nuisance now, and he couldn’t wait any longer to get it off of you. With your legs hiked up on his broad shoulders, he dives into you.

A taste, as it turns out, is an understatement because what Bradley does is devour.

“Oh, fuck…” you gasp sharply at the contact.

With one hand pinning your thigh open, he laps you up in earnest, figuring out the many ways he can make you squirm. Time ceases to exist because it feels like he makes you come in no time, but also he’s been down there forever. But he goes on and on and on until his name comes out in a desperate chant of lust and need.

“Bradley Bradley Bradley…” she grinds shamelessly into his mustache now, an unfamiliar but not unwelcome sensation on your part. “Please, I’m gonna…”

“I know, honey. I got you. It’s okay.” It’s an oddly wholesome thing to say in a moment like this, but maybe you’re a hopeless romantic at heart, because sweet nothings get you off.

Your orgasm strikes like a thunderbolt, and you find yourself arching into his mouth. The more you take, the more he gives—or is it the other way around?— It seems like he takes as much pleasure in it as you do. Maybe even more, as he holds onto you as you squirm away overstimulated.

“Bradley… wait.” You grab a handful of his hair, trembling breathlessly.

His mustache glistens when he comes up for air, and he finally (finally!) takes off his suit jacket as he stands up. He eases up on the throttle and lets you breathe for a second. He rolls up his sleeves to his elbows, watching you spread out like a feast for him. Legs open, bra askew, hair fanned out on the pillow… God, he’s so lucky.

When he returns on top of you, you’re eager to pull him by his belt buckle, but he brushes your hand away. You frown in protest. “But I wanna touch you—”

“It’s not your turn yet, honey,” he chides you teasingly.

“You just had your turn!”

He shrugs, nosing your cheek. “Well, it’s still my turn, so…” Bradley closes the gap again and kisses you openly.

The taste of your arousal on his tongue makes you dizzy, but it can’t distract you from the buzz of his fingers rubbing your devoured pussy, sending shivers down your spine. It’s entirely too much, and you keel over from the contact.

“Somebody’s a little sensitive, huh?” He grins, easing the throttle a little.

“Fuck you…”

“Well, if you say so.” He slides his middle finger in.

“Ohhh… Bradley…” you buck up your hips and moan. But in comes another finger, and you swear it feels like all of him.

He’s wound differently this time, like a man on a mission. With his fingers crooking and stroking your silky walls, beckoning you to come closer, while you grip his shoulders, willing yourself to hold on. But his teeth yanks the edge of your bra to set your nipple free, and his sly tongue finally gets a taste… all resolve goes out the window.

“Come on, honey. I know you got another one in you…” he breathes out, undoing the front clasp of your bra so he can suck your tits with all his might, willing you to come.

And frankly, who are you to say no?

The burst of pleasure hits you from your core to your fingertips. If he wasn’t pinning you down on top of you, you would have probably floated away. But you’re firmly laid on the mattress and feeling everything. Your eyes blink back into focus as you come down from your high.

You pant, staring at him in disbelief. Nobody has ever put that much attention on you in bed before even taking off his clothes. “You got a baseball bat in there or something?”

“Something like that.” He rolls his eyes playfully. Jokingly, you assume.

You take his arm, kissing his wrist, “Can I touch you now?” sticking your tongue out to lick his digits clean of you. Putting on a show as you suck his fingers. “Please?”

He throws his head back and groans. “Fuck.” He can’t resist that doe-eyed look you’re putting on, nor can he resist you undoing his shirt buttons. He can play dominant all he wants, but he knows that the truth of the matter is, he’s all wrapped up around your little finger. “Okay, okay. You win.”

It’s a mess of unbuckling pants, kicking off shoes, and tossing clothes to the floor. Your hand reaches out to trace his gleaming skin, every ridge of his abdomen. You’ve seen the Calvin Klein campaigns and the Men’s Health covers— and gosh, he looks like a dream. But when that thing just springs up to his stomach when he pushes his boxers down…

You didn’t expect him to manifest straight out of your wet dream.

“Holy fuck, you weren’t kidding about your baseball bat,” you breathe out, head tilted as you stare at his thick cock. The vein that runs along the side, the way it curves slightly to the right, the length that makes you clench at the mere thought of it… Fuck, it’s pretty.

Bradley chuckles sheepishly. He knows how big it is, he’s heard all the jokes in the locker room, but hearing it from you hits different. “You scared?”

You should be, a little. But without flinching, you bite your lip and look him in the eye. “Nah, I’m a big girl. I can handle it.”

Gosh, he loves you. He’ll have to remember not to blurt that out too early. “Okay, big girl,” he chuckles, kissing you one last time before rolling off of the bed.

His sudden disappearance out of sight makes you frown. “Where are you—” you prop yourself up on your elbow, seeing him fish out a packet of condom from his trousers pocket, “Right. Safety first.”

Bradley nods, tearing the packet open with his teeth and rolling it on. There’s something so hot about how a man looks just before he fucks someone. “Mm-hm. Gotta make sure we’re both covered.”

“Do I need goggles and a helmet, too?”

He pauses as he straddles your hips. “Maybe next round,” he cheekily quips back. The idea of you wearing nothing but a helmet and safety goggles weirdly makes his cock stir, too. But you’re already lying naked under him, and he doubts that much will deter his hard-on.

Bradley pushes himself into you a little, and your eyes water as you whimper out in a blur of pain and pleasure. And here you thought two of his fingers felt full…

He stops in his tracks, trying to gauge your reaction. He nearly lost his mind over how tightly you’re clenched around him, but he doesn’t want to presume. “Too much?” He asks softly, stroking your cheek.

Your breaths run ragged as you look up at him, almost in awe. “You’re just… so big…”

He laughs breathlessly. He hates to brag, but it’s true. And as much as he’s enjoying the way you flutter under him, he has to ask, “Want me to pull out?” Please say no, please say no, I don’t think I can handle it…

“N-no…” you wrap your arms and legs around him, clinging to him for dear life. “But I don’t know if it’ll fit.”

Bradley smiles at what has to be the most adorable look he’s ever seen from you. He kisses your forehead in reassurance. “I’ll go nice and slow, okay? I promise.”

Feeling this small and vulnerable so soon after meeting someone would usually set all kinds of alarms in your head. You never know how a guy would take it. But in this moment, nestled in the crook of his neck, among the mix of his perfume and aftershave and his natural musk… all you want to do is stay. “Okay,” you nod softly.

“Let’s try again then, hm?” He kisses your temple and whispers in your ear, “Open up, love.”

With a deep breath, you bite back a whimper as you take him deeper, still not quite all the way in. “Hurts…”

Bradley stops again, his concern fully taking over now. “You sure you want me to keep going…?”

“Yes!” You surprise yourself with how quick and desperate you answered him. Your eyes shut, trying to offset the warmth setting over your cheeks, as you make the dirty admission, “I… I like it when it hurts.”

Jesus fucking Christ.

Bradley has to remind himself not to come on the spot, because holy shit. He wouldn’t go this hard on a woman so early in the game, but… his head is dizzy from how innocently you said it. He takes a breath to pull himself together. “Tell me if it’s too much, alright?”

The air is heavy. The room is silent. You can hear the shift in the tension as you smirk, “Yessir.”

There you are, you little devil. Bradley simply grabs you by the hips and bottoms out inside you. Your face goes slack while your cunt tightens around his cock, and it blows his mind.

He starts out slow, torturously so. Stuffing himself inside your crevice and dragging himself out, willing you to feel every inch. Every ridge. Until your body loosens up and twists around in the throes of passion. Your mouth falls open, your little gasps and moans coming and going as he pleases.

The unhurried pace is nice for a few minutes, when you’re still adjusting to his size. But now that he’s snug inside you, you’re simply aching for more. Your hips arch up into him halfway, a little more urgent, disrupting the rhythm with a pleasant stutter.

He notices this and smiles. “So eager… what’s the rush, hm?”

You answer with a groan. He has a penchant for asking you questions you can’t answer, this man. “You feel so good, baby…” you murmur headily, hands desperately grasping on him—his arms, his shoulders, his back…

”You feel even better.” He nips at your pert nipple, relishing in your angelic little filthy cry. Fuck, he can feel the exact motion of your pussy tightening for him. “I’m not gonna last long if you keep doing that…”

”Then don’t.”

His eyes flicker onto yours immediately. You’re gonna be the death of him, he swears…

You grab his hair by the fistful, keeping his gaze. “I want to feel you come inside me.”

”Oh fuck—” he doesn’t stand a chance. His body reacts faster than his brain could compute, and he holds your hips flush against his as he buries himself as deep as he can. Every twitch of his cock sends you reeling, and your pussy clenches and unwinds in your climax, following him down from his high to yours.

Free falling, hand in hand.

Bradley rolls off of you and you would complain, if it weren’t for the way he immediately pulls you into his chest. Thank fuck. You’re not quite ready to untangle from him yet. Not when your breaths still run a bit ragged, as if accidentally catching each other’s. He presses a kiss to your forehead, and it feels unlike your regular out-of-town hookup. No, this one’s different. But not a word is said between you on that for different reasons— each of you holding your cards close to your chest, as close as you’re holding each other.

#nowhere to go but up from here on out folks!!#bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw x reader #footballer!bradley #footballer!bradley x popstar!reader #top gun imagine #top gun au #ava writes #fever pitch

167 notes · View notes

eleanor-bradstreet · 2 years ago

Text

Gala (Anthony Bridgerton x Reader)

Anthony Bridgerton x fem!Reader Modern AU Rated: 18+, just lots of thirst and suggestiveness Word count: 1.9k

Summary: You attend a charity gala with your boss who really is too much trouble in a tux.

Author's Note: Requested by and dedicated to @queenofmean14 Bit cracky and intended to be humorous 😜 Also credit to @broooookiecrisp from whom I pilfered the job details of her modern Anthony.

“He’s here.” Security announced in your earpiece. Not that you needed them to. You knew the Jaguar as it pulled up. So did the line of paparazzi who started to jostle for the clearest shot. But when he stepped out, you didn’t even know your own name. Anthony Bridgerton, CEO of Bridgerton House Enterprises and your boss, was going to make tonight even more difficult for you.

He had talked to you about his planned outfit beforehand, but you hadn’t gotten a preview and hadn’t envisioned it like this. A perfectly tailored velvet tux jacket accented with a diamond bee brooch. Smart shoes, an effortlessly coiffed wave of hair and most arresting of all, a pair of sleek shades that he slid on as he exited the car even though it was long past sundown. An errant corner of your brain replayed some 80’s song lyrics, but you couldn’t deny that the entire look worked. It worked entirely too well for you as your body flushed with heat and breathing suddenly became a task. The man could wear the hell out of a tux.

Granted, he always looked mouthwatering no matter how he was dressed, and as his executive assistant for the span of eight months you had seen the spectrum of his wardrobe. Everything hung so perfectly on his muscled frame, exuding old money power with a currently fashionable touch. Clothes made the man, but you suspected Anthony Bridgerton could elevate a bin bag. It was a visual challenge you had adapted to in your job, over time finding it easier and easier to speak to him without choking on your tongue first. His arrogant playfulness had helped with that and the two of you had built a deep mutual trust, a friendship even. You had bonded in the trenches of corporate crises enough to sling endearing insults at each other and always be blatantly honest. Except about one thing. You could obviously never reveal to him how desperately you wanted to jump his bones. How your blood simmered when his voice dropped to a certain pitch. How you broke into gooseflesh whenever he shook your hand and met you with something caring in his deep umber eyes. The light flirtation you both fell into from time to time certainly didn’t help either. And now with him in black tie, you began to wonder if this job was hazardous to your health.

Tonight was the company’s annual charity gala. A star-studded event at one of London’s best hotels where celebrities and socialites donated funds for the hospitals partnered with BHE. Anthony would give the closing speech and as planned, was the last to arrive on the red carpet so that he would get unencumbered press focus. You had spent the entire day on site making sure everything was prepped to perfection and now you stood at the top of the entry stairs with the other staff, ready to welcome the MVP of the evening. Given the high profile of the event, you had dressed for the occasion too. You would be seated at his table and weren’t going to be photographed looking like an intern. You had found a dress you loved, a shimmering number that showed off your best assets, and splurged on a hair and makeup artist. Maybe your position made you more akin to the prince’s valet but if this was how you got into the ball, you were going to make the most of it.

You watched Anthony pausing for photos, realizing this was one of the rare times you could observe him from afar. He moved with such confidence, back straight and head held high. He would run his fingers through his greying temples or brush a thumb over his stubbled chin while flashing that killer smile and your legs wanted to give out. He knew how to work a camera. It was one of the many awful, wonderful things about him. But if the attention helped raise money for charitable causes it was all worth it. You supposed your undergarments could suffer for the greater good.

As he moved along, you noticed he was licking his lips. A peek of his tongue in the corner of his mouth as he faced your direction. He was probably hot under all the camera flashes. But that small gesture was infecting you with heat too. He really needed to stop or you were liable to tumble down the steps and really make a headline. It took all your strength not to fan yourself with the tablet you were holding until at last he ascended and gave you a dazzling smile, falling into step beside you as you moved indoors.

You hovered in his orbit as he was greeted by the first throng of attendees at the bar and you called for a flute of champagne. When he was alone at last for a moment, you pulled him into a quiet corner and offered him the drink.

“Thirsty?”

“Sorry?” He moved closer, inclining his head. He was curiously still wearing his sunglasses indoors. You could smell his cologne. Amber and smoke and spice and it made you want to sink your teeth into his neck.

“Are you thirsty?” You said louder, shoving the glass into his hand as he chuckled.

“Why do you ask?” He took a sip.

What a stupid question. Couldn’t you just offer him some refreshment? Didn’t humans need to hydrate? Now you had to answer him.

“I um…” You wavered. “I saw you. You were…licking your lips out there so I just figured…”

His brows show up over his frames and he grinned. “You’re very attentive.”

Something shot down your spine. His voice was getting close to that register. “It’s my job to take care of your needs.” You reminded him, though you laid on a heavy layer of sarcasm.

“And you are so very good at it.” He rumbled, reaching the danger pitch. Oh god, he was going to assault you both visually and aurally at the same time, wasn’t he? He was going to flirt with you while daring to look like that. He was cruel, and he knew exactly what he was doing.

He confirmed it by stepping even closer, turning so the front of his velvet jacket brushed your bare arm and he leaned down to murmur directly in your ear. “You look incredible by the way.”

You swallowed hard, instructing yourself to inhale and exhale. But that wasn’t really helping because his intoxicating scent was making things worse. You had to keep your head. You had to spar with him or else you were going to melt into the carpet. “So do you.” You pursed your lips and gave him an exaggerated once over as if you were only mildly impressed. “The glasses were a good choice.”

He smiled and you detected something genuine, like he was actually eager for your praise. He tapped the frames lightly. “Useful too. I don’t have to give anyone my undivided attention if I don’t want to. I could be talking to them while scanning the crowd and they would be none the wiser.”

This sounded like the setup for a joke. Something about not listening to you as you conducted him through his schedule for the evening. You were beginning to resent those glasses and you would let him know if he tried to get sassy with you.

“So what are you looking at?” You smirked, waiting for the punchline.

He took another sip of champagne, facing you but now you couldn’t be sure if he wasn’t staring directly over your head. “A beautiful woman who is driving me to distraction.”

You rolled your eyes. Of course. The man lived at the office and didn’t really have time for a social or romantic life. He would have to double up and treat a work event as an opportunity for a hookup. Especially at an event as glamorous as this, with so many swanlike women floating around and everyone dressed in their finest, you understood, despite the envy it flared in you.

“Ah, I see. Is there someone I should invite over to your table?”

He shook his head, downed the last of the champagne and set it aside with a decisive clink. “Unnecessary. You’re already at my table.”

He said it so matter-of-factly it took your brain several seconds to even comprehend its meaning. You must have been going mad. Your heart started to pound, fueled equally by embarrassed confusion and ridiculous hope. There was no way. Absolutely no way on earth he could have said what you thought he said. And even if he had, he was just toying with you, right?

“I’m not…” You stuttered, hoping he couldn’t see the blush you felt creeping up your neck. “You weren’t…you weren't looking at me.”

Then your breath caught in your throat as he rounded on you, standing directly before you so your back was pressed against the wall and all you could see was him. He loomed, black velvet and chestnut hair and perfect stubble. That scent was making you feral and now you could feel his hot breath across your skin. You could see yourself in the reflection of his dark lenses, peering up at him like trapped prey. This was how you died. Or lost your job. You were sure of it.

“How would you know?” He smiled wolfishly and tapped the glasses again. “All the better to see you with, my dear.”

You were hit by lightning. The gooseflesh rippled across your skin. Your underwear soaked. All you could do was stand there and tremble as he ran a finger idly up and down your arm. You were surprised sparks weren’t erupting out of your skin where he touched you.

“Why do you think I was licking my lips?” He asked in a low voice, finally removing the shades to pierce through you with his dilated, chocolate eyes. “I’m afraid even with the champagne, I’m still thirsty.” Then he did it again, flicking that weapon of mass destruction across his luscious bottom lip and staring at you pointedly.

Your brain functioned enough to realize that he was breathing just as heavy as you were. And that he was opening a door, giving you an option. The option you had been fantasizing about since the day you met him. It seemed too good to be true. You were half convinced you were dreaming in a coma after faceplanting down the steps outside thanks to his appearance. But the prickle of your electrified nerves and the river between your thighs felt real enough to persuade you that you were indeed still in your own body. You were not going to pass this up, whatever it might lead to. Really, you wanted to scream aloud like you had won the lottery.

But instead you whispered, “There’s water in the green room.”

He grinned broadly, creasing that dimple in his left cheek that you wanted to lick right off his face. “Excellent idea. I think we’ll need an emergency private conference to…go over my notes.”

His hand found the small of your back and you prayed that your legs would carry you that far. This was really going to throw off the itinerary but you were good at your job, you could adjust. You smiled back at him. “Whatever you say, sir. I’m here to take care of your needs.”

Tagging: @angels17324 @bridgertontess @broooookiecrisp @secretagentbucky @colettebronte @faye-tale

#bridgerton #bridgerton fanfiction #anthony bridgerton #anthony bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton x you #bridgerton x y/n #bridgerton imagine #anthony bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton x you #anthony bridgerton x y/n #anthony bridgerton imagine #female reader #modern au #thirst #met gala #jonathan bailey

512 notes · View notes

priincebutt · 8 months ago

Text

Hey ho, let's go! Happy Wednesday, chickadees!! Can't believe we've made it to the end of February, if I'm being perfectly honest. Thank you as always to the lovelies @itsmaybitheway , @piratefalls , @wordsofhoneydew , @firenati0n , @getmehighonmagic , @onthewaytosomewhere and @magicandarchery for the tags!! This week, I'm bringing you the beginning of my next chapter of The Story of Us, because I finally feel like writing for it again!! I was in a lil slump, tbh, but I'm bound and determined to finish this piece and I'm very excited for the next few chapters!!

Despite their time spent apart weighing more than their time spent together, being with Henry is like a dream. It’s like Alex has just floated along, directionless despite thinking he’d had it all figured out, until he’d met Henry. He’d always sworn he wouldn’t be one of the ones who allowed his whole personality to be overcome by a relationship, but he gets it now – when someone has the other half of your heart, and that empty space in your chest has been filled with them, it’s impossible not to spend a multitude of moments thinking about Henry. Thinking, dreaming, ruminating on when they can be together again.

London had been unparalleled, and despite the tears they’d shed when he’d had to leave, Alex is glad to have those memories to get him through his ‘Henry dry spell’ as he’s taken to calling it. (Henry doesn’t find it very funny. Nora and June just roll their eyes at him.) And as much as he wants to fly across oceans to stand next to Henry and hold his hand, to catch him when he leaps off the stage every night in a new city, Alex has to focus on the play-offs that are fast approaching.

It just so happens that Henry is in New York for a few days one week for a photoshoot. He’s just been named Spotify’s Global Top Artist of 2023, and Alex, high on the successes of someone who is so important to him, decides to use his day off to drive up to the city to celebrate with Henry.

It’s an easy, quiet kind of rhythm between them now – commenting on each other’s posts, texting back and forth and keeping up a constant stream of communication. When Henry drops ‘You’re Losing Me’ to thank his fans, Alex listens to it on a non-stop loop in the weight room, as he’s driving to meetings, and while he cooks himself dinner that night. When Percy drops an insta story, Henry posing with a handful of raisins and a bottle of wine, a telltale snapshot from the past that claims this secret track was recorded months before Henry’s relationship with James ended, Alex’s heart breaks for him, and he immediately calls Henry, comforts him through the fresh wave of pain the release of this very personal track brings him. They talk on the phone well past midnight that night, and on his drive up the east coast the next morning, Alex is so thankful he’ll be able to wrap his arms around Henry in just a few short hours.

They meet at Henry’s hotel, and paparazzi are already waiting as Alex pulls up to the valet and hands over his car keys, then slings an overnight bag over his shoulder and tugs down his sunglasses, pointedly ignoring the hoard of camera-happy paps who call out to him, asking invasive questions and trying to capture his attention through shocking details they’ve been fed from a friend of a friend who knows Henry Fox personally.

It’s all bullshit, so he ignores it. It’s not their fucking business, and he refuses to give them even an inch, because he knows they’ll trample all over that and steal a mile.

Tags beneath the cut and thanks for reading friends!!

@forever-fixating , @sparklepocalypse , @firstsprinces , @sunnysideprince , @hgejfmw-hgejhsf , @anincompletelist , @zwiazdziarka

#rwrb fanfic #my writing #wip #the story of us au

23 notes · View notes

whiskey-tango-matcha · 2 years ago

Text

A Cup of Tea and Paracetamol pt 4/4

The final installment is done! Phew, thanks for sticking with me, I know this was a long story and idk how people feel about that. This last part is pretty much just sneeze p0rn lmao, so I hope you guys like it. Let me know if there are any scenarios/story ideas you’d like to see with these two next, because I don’t have any WIPs currently!

A prewarning, this is of course not beta’d or reread because I am a full dunce and I shit out snz and then run away.

Love you all, enjoy

“Listen,” Elijah rasped the next morning, as he and Greyson waited for their cab to approach the hotel, “I’m gonna need you to pull it together.”

“Lij, I – HGDSTHH-oo! Hnn-NGSTSH-uhh! Huh…”

“See, this is what I’m talking -”

“HUHHHESTCHH-ue!”

“-about.” Elijah coughed into his elbow, while Greyson fished a paper-thin hotel tissue out of his pocket and blew his nose. They made quite the pair, really. Greyson grimaced and tossed the tissue into a waiting trashcan before turning to his boss and clearing his throat.

“Lij,” Greyson said, his voice sticky and congested. “I dond’t thindk I’mb gonna mbake it.” He swallowed back a cough as the cab rolled up to the valet. “Whend I’mb gone, tell mby staff I loved – HRFFSHH! GTSHH-ue! HRSSHHH-oo! God-fucking-dammit.”

“Remember when I said pull it together?” Elijah asked, his voice once again cutting out completely. He yanked the cab door open, pulled a mask out of his back pocket, and mouthed “Pull. It. Together.”

Greyson sucked in through his nose futilely, then cleared his throat again as he pulled up his own mask and lowered himself into the car next to his boss. “Hi there,” he said, actively avoiding any m’s or n’s. “Airport, please.”

The driver grunted in understanding and set off through the early-morning traffic. Greyson gave Elijah a thumbs up as if to say Pulled it together pretty well, huh? Elijah rolled his eyes in response and collapsed over his own lap to cough as quietly as he could.

“Need some water?” the driver asked, producing a small bottle from a chest on the passenger’s seat. Elijah shook his head in Greyson’s direction.

“He’s good.” Greyson said, rubbing his nose behind the mask. He wondered silently how much longer the ride was going to be; it had felt like a short drive on the way in, but that may have had something to do with the fact that he didn’t have the constant feeling of needing to sneeze on the way in.

Sometime between the end of the event yesterday afternoon and when he’d gone to bed around midnight, Greyson’s body had suddenly decided that it was going to cut the bullshit and start sneezing like it was his job. Greyson assumed it had been sometime after his fourth drink; that’s when things started getting hazy, anyway. He’d woken up this morning with sinuses packed, a throbbing head, and a note on his arm that read, Call me when that cold’s cleared up -Alex with what he assumed was a London phone number scrawled beneath it. Alex’s face, location, and gender were, at this point, a toss-up.

“Huhh…” Greyson’s breath hitched audibly then, and Elijah sat up suddenly and shook his head. Greyson understood his meaning; between their matching pallor and Elijah’s coughing, he was sure they were already on thin ice with this driver. No need to cause a scene and get them kicked out of the cab. Greyson pawed at his nose again and held his breath – to no avail.

“HXTSH-uhh!” Greyson attempted to hold the sneeze back, but his body clearly had other plans. He gave Elijah a watery, apologetic look before collapsing into a fit of sneezes, directed into his elbow. “HFSHH-uh! Huh...hehh...HGSTHH-ue! HRSSHH! NGTSHH! HUHESSTCHOO! Fuck mbe,” Greyson grumbled into his elbow.

“Is everything alright back there?” the driver asked, tentatively. Elijah cleared his throat as best he could to take over the speaking role.

“We’re okay,” he managed, his voice barely above a whisper. “Just a cold.”

“Hell of a cold,” the driver grumbled, pulling up to the airport gate. “Need help with your things?”

“We’re okay,” Greyson said, throwing the door open the moment the car came to a stop. “Thangks.” He handed the driver a wad of cash – far more than they owed, to make up for the disinfecting this guy was going to have to do – and dragged Elijah out of the car. They quickly collected their bags from the trunk and made their way into the airport.

“Did I or did I not tell you to pull it together?” Elijah asked, voice cracking. Greyson gave his boss the dirtiest look he could muster while they got in line for their boarding passes.

“That was mbe pulling it together,” he said, sniffling behind the mask. “Trust mbe, you dond’t wandt to see mbe letting loose.”

They made it through ticketing and security with little incident, and once they found their gate, Greyson declared, “Great, it exists. Let’s go get drungk.”

The two ill men plopped themselves down at a corner table in the darkest airport bar they could find. Once drinks were ordered, they ripped off their masks and stared at one another, dead-eyed. Elijah was the first to break the silence.

“Huh-GTSHH-ue!” he sneezed into his elbow, which propelled him into a fit of coughing. Greyson sucked in through his nose, and let out an irritated cough in sympathy.

“Is that what I have to look forward to ndext?” he asked, nodding at the server when a beer was placed in front of him. Elijah rolled his eyes and shot his whiskey before giving Greyson the middle finger.

“Yeah, enjoy,” he rasped, pulling a hand down his face in misery. Greyson chuckled darkly and sucked down the beer in a few gulps, then raised a hand toward the bar to get the server’s attention.

“Keep ’emb combing,” he called out.

“Alcohol’s only going to make it worse,” Elijah rasped. Greyson laughed in earnest this time.

“You think it could get worse?” he asked, and Elijah returned the laugh.

“Fair enough,” he said. He quietly thanked the server who brought their second round, and lifted his rocks glass. “You know what would really hit the spot right now?”

“A lobotomy?” Greyson guessed.

“Some nyquil.”

Greyson nearly moaned at the thought of it. “Dond’t even say its precious name,” he said, sucking down the second beer. He placed the half-empty glass back down on the table when his breath began to hitch once again. “HGSTHH-uhhh. NGXTSHH-nn! HXTSHH! HTSH!”

“Will you just sneeze like a normal person and get it over with?” Elijah asked, downing the remainder of his drink. “Holding them in just makes it worse.”

“You’re such an expert ind how I’mb mbaking it worse, and yet you dond’t seem to be doing mbuch better thand mbe,” Greyson said, blowing his nose quietly. “So I don’t think I’ll be taking my advice from you, thangks.”

Elijah shrugged. “Fair enough,” he whispered, turning to signal for the check.

“Hey, I wandted another,” Greyson said, coughing into his sleeve. Elijah raised an eyebrow.

“I think you’re good,” he said pointedly. Greyson grumbled while Elijah produced a credit card and signed the check. “I’ll make it up to you,” he told the chef, pushing his chair backand gathering their things.

“Mmmb, how’re you gonna do that?” Greyson asked, pressing his palm into an aching eyeball. Elijah shrugged.

“I was thinking maybe a cup of tea?” he said, attempting a British accent with his mangled voice. “Perhaps a paracetamol?”

Greyson couldn’t help but laugh. “Oh, fuck off, Lij.” Elijah laughed, too.

“Let’s get this flight over with,” Elijah whispered. “And, Grey?”

“Y – HFSHHH-uhh! Fuggck. Snf. Yeah?” Greyson asked, his eyes watering. Elijah attempted a smile.

“Let’s go ahead and keep the restaurant closed this weekend.”

Greyson coughed out a laugh. “Ndow,” he said, “you’re speaking my language.”

#do i love this ending? nope!#but it's as good as i'm gonna be able to do lmao #original character #male snz #cold #snz fic #sickfic #coldfic #whiskeyswriting #oc sickfic #snz #snzfic

69 notes · View notes

splashanddrip · 1 year ago

Text

Advanced Car Detailing Techniques: Elevating Mobile Valeting in London

Mobile valeting in London has witnessed a remarkable evolution, with advanced car detailing techniques taking center stage. In this blog, we'll explore how these techniques have elevated the mobile valeting industry in London.

Mobile Valeting London: Embracing Advanced Car Detailing Techniques

Mobile valeting services in London have embraced advanced car detailing techniques to provide exceptional cleaning and restoration services to vehicle owners. These techniques go beyond the basic cleaning processes, ensuring a showroom-like finish. Let's delve into some of these advanced techniques.

Ceramic Coatings: Revolutionizing Vehicle Protection

Ceramic coatings have gained immense popularity in mobile valeting in London. These coatings offer superior protection against UV rays, oxidation, and environmental contaminants. They create a hydrophobic barrier, repelling water, dirt, and grime, thereby keeping the vehicle cleaner for longer periods.

Paint Correction: Restoring the Vehicle's Aesthetics

Paint correction techniques address imperfections like swirl marks, scratches, and oxidation. Skilled mobile valeting professionals in London use machine polishing and specialized compounds to restore the vehicle's paintwork to its original brilliance. This technique enhances the aesthetics and resale value of the vehicle.

Steam Cleaning: A Thorough and Eco-Friendly Approach

Mobile valeting in London is increasingly adopting steam cleaning as an eco-friendly alternative. Steam effectively removes dirt, grease, and stains without the need for harsh chemicals. It reaches tight spaces and kills bacteria, providing a deep and hygienic clean.

Interior Detailing: Transforming the In-Car Experience

Mobile valeting services in London prioritize interior detailing to enhance the in-car experience. Advanced techniques involve deep cleaning, stain removal, leather conditioning, and odor elimination. The result is a fresh and revitalized interior that enhances comfort and enjoyment during every drive.

Headlight Restoration: Improving Safety and Visibility

Mobile valeting professionals in London understand the importance of clear headlights for safety and visibility. Advanced headlight restoration techniques involve removing oxidation, haze, and scratches, restoring the headlights' clarity and brightness. This enhances the driver's visibility and ensures safer journeys.

Splash And Drip have evolved to incorporate advanced car detailing techniques that offer remarkable results. From ceramic coatings and paint correction to steam cleaning, interior detailing, and headlight restoration, these techniques elevate the mobile valeting experience. Embrace these advancements to give your vehicle the care it deserves. Visit our website to know more.

#mobile valeting london #car valet london

0 notes

ecoverdevaletingco · 1 month ago

Text

EcoVerde brings Mobile Car Valeting London services to your doorstep, using eco-friendly products and techniques. Enhance your car’s appearance while contributing to a cleaner, greener environment.

#Car Detailing #Mobile Car Valeting #Eco-Friendly Car Care #On-Site Car Detailing #Sustainable Car Cleaning #Local Car Valet #Vehicle Maintenance #Car Wash Services #Environmental Sustainability #Car Care Tips #London Car Detailing #Premium Car Valeting #EcoVerde #Automotive Services #Car Hygiene

0 notes

splashanddrip002 · 10 months ago

Text

Pristine ride with Splash and Drip's mobile car valeting!

Unlock the secret to a pristine ride with Splash and Drip's mobile car valeting. Unbeatable shine and convenience await you.

#london #uk #car valet #mobile car valet

1 note · View note

beyondjustservice · 8 months ago

Text

Mobile Car Wash & Valeting Services

With our modern mobile car wash and valeting services, embrace the future of car care. No more scheduling your entire week around a car wash appointment or giving up valuable weekend time in exchange for a clean automobile. You may arrange a professional cleaning at a time and location that works best for you with our mobile services.

We'll come to you, whether you're at home, at work, or out for a day, with modern tools and environmentally friendly products to give your car the attention it needs. Our commitment lies in providing excellent results, carefully attending to every little detail to make sure your automobile looks perfect from the inside out.

It's more about the experience than it is about hygiene. Wave goodbye to the strain and inconvenience of a traditional car

#car wash #car valeting #car valeting west london #car mobile valeting #car detailing #mobile auto wash

1 note · View note

allseasonsvaleters1 · 2 years ago

Text

https://www.quora.com/Whos-best-car-service-provider/answer/All-Seasons-Valeters-1?prompt_topic_bio=1

#car detailing business #best car wash #car wash #canon #comics #car detailing near me #what is professional car detailing?#car detailing croydon #mobile car detailing near me #mobile car valet near me #london car valet

0 notes

anglophiletraveler · 1 year ago

Text

In My Life Chapter

There’s a lot going on in this chapter, new characters are coming into play. Hopefully my picture of the outfit that I pictured Demelza in comes out okay, because I really love it! And as always, thank you to my supportive Italian friend, Karen Bockius!! Enjoy!!

Chapter 26

“I Am Yours”

Andry Grammar

**************

Demelza and Ross settled into Ross’s BMW and put their seatbelts on. Both let out long sighs at the same time, and looked at each other and started laughing.

“Bloody hell Ross, no offence love, but I’m kind of glad to be out of the house for a couple of hours,” Demelza stated. Ross started the car and headed out the long drive.

“No offence taken, love. And I feel the exact same way. I only hope that the party isn’t all stuffy nonsense and we can actually enjoy it,” Ross added.

Demelza squinted her eyes at something she’s been thinking about ever since they arrived at Nampara. “Ross.”

“Hmmm.”

“There’s something that I noticed today. Do you realise that here at your home, that you call your mother ‘mama’ and your father ‘papa’. But in London when they were visiting for Christmas you called them mum and dad. It’s almost like you fall into being, what is it that Jud and Prudie call you?” Demelza observed.

Ross sighed, “Young Master Ross?”

“Yes! Young Master Ross! Did you get realise that you did that?”

Ross shook his head a little and made a face, “Yeah I guess I do. I guess coming back to my childhood home causes me to do that. Do you think that’s bad? Do you want me to stop doing it?”

“Oh no, you don’t need to stop. It was just something I observed. I think it’s kind of sweet.” Demelza told him.

“What about you Demelza? Drake calls you sister most of the time instead of your name. Did your other brothers call you sister as well?”

“Yeah for the most part. Actually, after me mum died, I hardly ever heard my name unless it was at school. My brothers called me sister, and sometimes I called them brother. Me mum called me Demelza, but my father always just called me daughter,” Demelza got a shiver just thinking about that memory.

Ross grabbed Demelza’s hand and it kissed it tenderly. He could see the pain in her face, and hear it in her voice. “I’m sorry I asked, love. Try to forget about it and have a good time tonight, yeah? You’re going to be the most beautiful woman at the party, and I’ll be the luckiest man there, because you’ll be going home with me. You’ll be on my arm, and I will never let you go.

“Thank you Ross. Does that mean that you’re going to dance with me tonight?” Demelza asked.

Ross rolled his eyes and acted like he was sick with his best Cockney accent, “I don’t knoow if I’ll be able to dance, love. I’ve got a bit of a pinch in me back, right back ‘eeere see.”

“Oh Ross, you’re barmy!”

“Oh babe, of course I’ll dance with you. I don’t think we’ve ever danced together, have we?” Ross asked.

“No, I don't think so, not properly anyway. Well, we best get a move on or all the good appetisers will be gone before we get there!” Demelza smiled, and this made Ross laugh at the ginger.

“Oh my love, I do love you!” Ross sighed. Watching Demelza eat was one of his favourite things to do. She thoroughly enjoyed food, especially Chinese, and she always seemed to have a hollow leg when it comes to eating. He wondered if it was because of the way she and her brothers grew up without a lot of food in the house.

****************

“Bloody hell look at this place! Caroline’s uncle certainly has the outside of the mansion decked out. If this is what it’s like on the outside, I can’t imagine what the inside will look like! And valet parking! Well love, I have a feeling that you’ll certainly see servants decked out here! They’ll make ol Prudie and Jud look like street rats!” Ross was clearly impressed by the Penvenan home.

Demelza looked at Ross, “Haven’t you ever been to Killewaren?”

“I don’t think so. If I ever was, I certainly don’t remember it.”

“Hmmm I find it odd that I’ve been here and you haven’t,” Demelza said.

Ross parked the car and got out so that the valet could park the car, and then walked over to Demelza’s side and opened the door for her. He wrapped Demelza’s arms around his and kissed her. He noticed that her face was just glowing. He gallantly led the way to the front steps, “Shall we my love?”

“We shall, my love!” Demelza giggled back. And with that, the dashing couple made their way into the front door.

As soon as they entered the foyer, a servant took their coats for them, and another one guided them to the main hall where the bulk of the party was. Ross tried to look around without looking like a gawking school girl but it was hard. The foyer alone was impressive with a beautiful chandelier above their heads, and a large round marble table in the middle with a tall vase of flowers. Beneath their feet was a marble floor. Ross was wondering how old that was. In the main hall there were sparkling chandeliers overhead, and a spectacular black and white tile floor. Christmas trees decked out in white lights and red and gold ornaments stood on the perimeter of the room. It wasn’t long before Ross heard a loud squeal which made him turn around towards a billowy blue cloud that was heading towards him, which turned out to be a stunning Caroline running over to hug Demelza, with Dwight following behind her like a good boyfriend.

Ross and Dwight shook hands and laughed at their girlfriends hugging each other and carrying on like they haven’t seen one another in years!

Dwight smirked, “Well Ross, if these two keep this up, we might not have to dance at all tonight!”

“We can only hope, mate. We can only hope!” Ross answered back.

Caroline stopped in her tracks and gave a death stare to the two men, “Not a chance Dwight Enys! Don’t even think about it. I’m not wearing spanx and sucking my stomach in for no reason!”

They all laughed at her. Ross offered, “Caroline you look absolutely stunning in that gown!”

Caroline smiled and did a turn in her sleeveless blue ball gown, her blonde hair pulled into an updo. “Thank you Ross. But Demelza looks absolutely spectacular does she not! I wanted to wear some fun pants, but as hostess I thought I should wear a gown.”

“Demelza, you do look amazing. At first I thought you were in a gown until I saw that you were actually wearing pants.” Dwight said.

“Oh thank you Dwight. I went for comfort tonight after today was a bit tiring and emotional.” Demelza offered.

Just then a server came by with a tray of champagne flutes, which the four friends gladly took part in.

“Why, what happened today? And why were you not going to come tonight?” Caroline asked

Demelza looked at Ross, letting him decide whether or not to bring up his mother’s health. Ross looked down, and then sighed. “Um, we can talk about that later on this weekend. Buuut, Demelza had her first driving lesson today!”

Dwight and Caroline gave a shocked, “What!?” Demelza stuck her tongue out at Ross, but she knew that he was just changing the subject.

“How did you do?” Dwight asked.

“It was bloody awful! Ross is lucky that I haven’t killed him yet!” Demelza said.

“Oh she didn't do too bad once she got the hang of it. But just let me tell you Dwight about our darling, sweet Demelza! She has the mouth of a sailor! I couldn’t believe how my sweet and innocent Demelza turned into Cruella Deville once she got behind the wheel. Uh huh, it’s true my friend.” Ross was really getting into telling the story.

Dwight’s eyebrows raised, “Really! I can’t believe it! I’m just shocked!”

“Yes Ross, how did you manage the impossible? I’ve been trying for years to get her to take driving lessons,” Caroline added.

The lights in the hall dimmed and the DJ started to play music to get the night kicked off. Pretty soon Norah Jones was being heard in the ballroom.

“Oh you three are just so funny! Just for that Ross Poldark, you owe me a dance right now!” She grabbed Ross’s champagne flute and set it down with hers and dragged him onto the dance floor.

Caroline raised an eyebrow at Dwight and cleared her throat. Dwight knew that was his cue, “Would you like to dance my darling?”

“Why, I would love to. Thank you for asking, my love!” Then Dwight led her out onto the dance floor.

***********************

Ross was holding Demelza in a standard hold for lovers dancing, his left hand holding her right hand to his chest, and his right hand on her waist, while Demelza was softly running her fingers through the hair at the back of his neck. Demelza was almost the same height as Ross with her heels on so there was definitely some sweet nothings being whispered in ears, and noses rubbing. Despite his earlier protests, Ross was very much enjoying holding Demelza close like this and dancing. He didn’t really mind dancing like this with his love. It was the waltzes and foxtrots that he learned while growing up with Verity that he really didn’t care for. It was standard for the children of upper society families to take dancing lessons so that they could hold their own at debutante balls, etc. So he was always roped in by Verity to be her partner at various dance lessons.

Another slow song came on next. “Oh, I love this song,” Demelza said.

“Really?” Ross said. “I don’t know if I’ve heard it before? What is it?”

“Really, you don’t know it? It’s ‘I Am Yours’ by Andry Grammar. It’s just so sweet.”

Ross noticed that Demelza’s eyes were shiny with tears, and he couldn’t help but bring her even closer to him, and kiss her so lovingly, even if it was on the dance floor in front of a hoard of people. Then he spoke, “Well, then I guess this makes it our song.” This made the tears run down her cheeks slowly. “Oh my love, you don’t need to cry. I’m here for you and I will always be here for you.”

“No matr wha’ ‘appens,” Demelza said.

Ross smiled at her Cornish accent coming out, “No matter what happens, my beautiful sweet Demelza.” And he kissed her again.

Caroline was watching her best friend, “Aww Demelza is crying,” she whispered to Dwight. “Happy tears I hope,” he responded back. “Oh Dr. Enys I think they are.” Carolinie looked at Dwight and they shared a soft kiss as well.

But what Caroline didn’t realise is that they weren’t the only ones watching Ross and Demelza share a tender moment on the dance floor. One of the servers working for the catering service was observing the couple and had a pensive look on his face. In another corner of the ball room, Elizabeth and Ruth Teague were both scowling at Ross and Demelza in confusion. Ruth finally spoke up, “That is not Ross’s secretary that he took home that one night.”

Elizabeth snapped her head at Ruth, “Well obviously not! Who is that hideous creature?!”

“I have no idea Elizabeth, but whoever she is, they certainly look smitten with each other,” said Ruth.

Francis walked over with three champagne flutes. “Well, what has the two of you craning your necks over?” Francis stated to the two women.

Elizabeth flashed him a dirty look, “We were wondering who it is that Ross is dancing with.”

“Ross? I didn’t know he was going to be here tonight. Wow. Well, they’re obviously in love. I think they make a great looking couple.” Francis added to the misery that Elizabeth was feeling.

“Well, I don’t!” Elizabeth hissed at her husband. Francis thought for a moment that his wife’s head spun around 360 degrees!

“Well, whoever she is, it’s Ross’s business, not ours. Would you care to dance my dear wife?” Francis asked.

“Shut up Francis. Just shut up!” Elizabeth was practically spitting glass now. Francis did a mock bow to his wife and turned around and left the two vipers to themselves.

***************

The song had ended but apparently Ross and Demelza were oblivious to everyone else, until Dwight interrupted their bliss.

“Oi! Mate! The music stopped!”

Ross pulled away from Demelza, “Oh I guess it has.”

“Let’s go find some food. Caroline is playing hostess and I’m starving. She wouldn’t let me snitch a small bite to eat before the party.”

“Sounds good. I’m starving too. Lead on Dwight!” Demelza said.

They headed into the dining room where a large buffet was set up, with servers dishing out the food. On the other side were round tablets for people to sit down and enjoy their food. The three friends didn’t waste time getting in line at the buffet. Everything looked delicious, and there was something for everyone. On the end was a carving station with a large carving roast beef being served.

“Oh gosh, I shouldn’t have worn white tonight. I just know that I’ll drip something on me and leave a big stain right in front. I’m going to have to avoid anything with red sauce in it.” Demelza complained.

Ross smiled at Demelza’s quandary. “We just can’t take you anywhere Demelza!” Dwight thought this was funny as they advanced in the line.

“Hello Demelza.” They all three heard the unfamiliar voice and looked up at the red headed server that said Mo Demelza’s name. Ross heard a gasp from Demelza, and then the next thing he heard was the crashing sound of Demelza’s plate that she dropped on the floor. Demelza’s face was white as a sheet. Ross quickly set his plate down so that he could catch Demelza to keep her from falling. “My God Demelza! Honey, what’s the matter? Are you ill.” He looked at the server, then back at Demelza, and then yelled for Dwight.

“Ross, bring her over here to this table and sit her down,” Dwight ordered. “Can someone please get us a glass of water, and a cold compress or a wet dish towel. Hurry!” The doctor ordered. “Demelza please, let me have a look at you.” He felt her pulse, which was racing. Her pupils seemed normal. She was breathing erratically. “Demelza do you feel dizzy?” She shook her head even though it felt very heavy. “Demelza you’re hyperventilating, try putting your head between your legs. Maybe that will help.” Dwight told her.

Ross looked at Dwight, “What is wrong with her Dwight? Should we take her to hospital?”

“Let’s just give her a moment and see how she does.” Just then a server came over with a glass of water and a wet dish towel. “Okay Demelza, Try sitting up very slowly. We don’t want you to get dizzy again and pass out. Can you drink some water?” Ross grabbed one of her arms to help her sit back up and gave her the water to drink. He bent down in front of her to help her hold the glass since her hands were shaking. “Demelza, can you tell us what happened? What made you pass out like that?” Ross asked her.

Demelza took a minute and looked around at the buffet line that was being cleaned up from the broken glass. Her head was swimming. So many thoughts going through her mind. She noticed everyone standing around staring at her, but Demelza didn’t see the red headed server anymore. Had he really been there or had her mind just play tricks on her? She was mumbling something but Dwight and Ross couldn’t make out what she was saying.

“Everyone is staring at me,” Demelza whispered.

Ross looked at Dwight, “Is there somewhere else we can take her?”

“Of course, follow me to Mr. Penvenan’s study,” Dwight replied. Ross helped Demelza stand up and they took a back way out of the dining hall into Caroline’s uncle’s study. Dwight led Demelza over to the sofa in the room, “Demelza why don’t you lay down for a minute until you feel better.” Dwight took her pulse again and it was still fast.

Ray Penvenan’s manservant came into the room, “Can I be of service Dr. Enys?”

“Norman, yes. Can you get my doctor’s bag from my bedroom and a wet washcloth and a dry towel and bring it down to us please? Thank you, Norman,” Dwight instructed the gentleman.

“Certainly sir,” answered Norman.

Ross sat next to Demelza and held her hand, “Demelza you look so pale. Do you feel nauseous? Are you dizzy?”

“Um, I'm not sure. No, I just feel a little shaky,” she said.

“Were you feeling ill before you arrived at the party?” Dwight asked.

“No, I felt fine,” Demelza replied.

“She didn’t seem sick at all before we arrived. She was fine in the car ride over. Although it has been a bit of an emotional day at Nampara.” Ross recalled.

Dwight gave Ross a questioning look at the comment. Just then Norman arrived with the things that Dwight asked for. Dwight immediately took Demelza’s blood pressure. “Well, your blood pressure is fine. Maybe you just need something to eat. Your sugar might have dropped. Do you think you can sit up alright?” Dwight asked.

“Yes, I think so. I’m so embarrassed at the scene I caused.”

Caroline entered the room in a frantic, “Demelza, what happened? Someone said that you fainted! Dwight, examine her.”

“I did my love. Her blood pressure is fine, her pulse is a little fast, but I think maybe her sugar dropped on her and she just needs to eat something. Do you want this wet cloth on your forehead, Demelza?” Dwight asked.

“No, I’m feeling better. I’m…really sorry. I don’t know what happened. I thought that I saw someone that I used to know,” explained Demelza. “But I… I didn’t see him when I looked again. Maybe it was just my imagination.”

She started to shake so Ross put his suit coat on her. “Demelza, who did you think you saw?” Ross asked.

“Mm my brother, Luke,” Demelza said.

“What? Are you sure? He was here at the party?” Ross asked.

“Well, as a server. I think he was one of the servers in the buffet line. He has red hair like mine. Maybe it was just the hair that tricked me. I haven’t seen him in years.” She recalled.

“Demelza, do you want me to talk with the caterers about him? Surely they would know everyone that they employ.” Caroline asked.

“No, don’t do that. If it is him, I don’t want him to get in trouble and lose his job. Caroline, you and Dwight should go back to your party and your guests. I’m fine, really. I’ll come back out in a little bit,” Demelza responded.

“You should get something to eat Demelza. I think that would help you feel better.” Dwight told her.

“I’ll make sure she eats Dwight. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of her.” Ross said.

Caroline and Dwight left the couple alone. Demelza leaned over and covered her face in her hands. “I’m so sorry Ross. I’m so embarrassed. All of those people were staring at me. I’ve ruined your evening.” Demelza was trying hard not to cry.

“Don’t be foolish, you haven’t ruined anything. And there’s definitely nothing to be embarrassed about. If you feel up to it, let’s go back out and get something to eat, then we’ll make our rounds around the room, and then we can go. Does that sound good?” Ross asked his girlfriend.

Demelza shook her head yes and stood up so they could head back into the dining room.

**************

Ross and Demelza were sitting in the dining room eating, Ross keeping an eye on his love. He had one hand on Demelza’s hand, while eating with the other.

“Ross. I wasn’t expecting to see you here.” Ross put his fork down and turned in the direction of the familiar voice. He saw his cousin Francis standing behind him with a grin on his face. “Nor I you cousin.” Ross answered back in a cold voice. Francis was standing with his hand held out waiting to shake hands with Ross, so Ross stood up and reluctantly shook hands with his cousin. He then noticed that Elizabeth was on his arm, with Ruth Teague standing next to her. He thought to himself that the three of them looked like vultures sitting on a fence.

“Hello Ross. I’m so glad to see you.” Elizabeth said with a porcelain smile on her face. Ross thought to himself that he wondered if she’d had plastic surgery already.

He nodded his head, “Elizabeth, Ruth.”

“And who do we have here Ross?” Francis asked about Demelza.

“Demelza, love, please meet my cousin Francis, Verity’s brother, and his wife Elizabeth and their friend Ruth Teague.” Ross was trying his best not to grit his teeth.

Demelza stood up to shake hands with Francis. “It’s nice to meet you, Francis, Elizabeth.. Did Verity come with you?” Demelza asked since that was the only thing she could think of to say.

“Oh no, she had other plans tonight I’m afraid. Ross, I didn’t know that you had ties with the Penvenans.” Francis asked.

Ross placed his hand on the small of Demelza’s back, “Well actually, Caroline and Demelza are old friends from university.” Elizabeth gave Ruth a side eye at Ross’s comment.

Ruth spoke up, “Oh that’s where I remember you from. I was in university with Caroline as well, although I don’t remember you socialising in the same circles as us.”

“Oh I definitely remember you Ruth. Weren’t you the one who was caught snogging with Professor Despard?” Demelza was trying not to sound too catty but she just couldn’t help herself. Although she did get a smile from Ross at this.

“I don’t recall such an incident.” Ruth said.

“Demelza there you are! I’ve been looking all over for you,” Caroline came to the rescue and wrapped her arm around Demelza’s like the friends always did. “Francis, Elizabeth, I see that you’ve met my roommate. Well, she was my roommate until Ross convinced her to move in with him. Ruth, I didn’t realise that you were to be here tonight.” Ross couldn’t help but smile at the looks on Elizabeth and Ruth’s faces.

“Well Ross, I’m very happy for you. The two of you make a lovely couple.” Francis added.

“Thank you Francis. Now if you’ll excuse us, I owe Demelza another dance.” And with that, Ross took Demelza’s hand, kissed it, and they headed to the dance floor.

“Oh Ruth, do close your mouth before you catch a fly.” Caroline said.

**************

“Are you feeling better, my love?” Ross asked during another slow dance.

“Yes, thank you. I just wish I knew for sure whether or not that was my brother.”

“Well, we could ask around for him if you’d like.” Ross said

“I don’t know. Part of me wants to know and part of me doesn’t. But, wait… now I remember. He said my name. He said ‘Hello Demelza’. Demelza remembered.

“Now that you mention it, I do remember someone saying your name. I think that caused me to look up in the direction that it was coming from.” Ross said.

“Oh I’m glad that you heard it too. I was beginning to think that I was imagining it. That’s what got my attention when I was getting some food. He said ‘Hello Demelza’ and I looked up to see who said my name, and it was him, my brother, Luke. Oh Lord Ross. What if he still lives with da, and goes home and tells him that he saw me here tonight!” Demelza was worried now.

“Calm down. Look, the only way to know for sure is to ask about him. After this dance, let’s go back in that dining room and ask someone, one of the other servers.” He could feel Demelza tense up in his arms.

********************

Demelza and Ross were explaining everything to Caroline about what they suspected when the partners of Ross’s firm interrupted their conversation. Caroline assured Demelza that she would go question the caterer.

“Gentlemen, so nice to see you outside of the office,” Ross said while shaking the hands of Harris Pascoe and Richard Tonkin.

“Yes, Ray Penvenan sure knows how to put on a display. Very festive. I assume that you’ve known the Penvenans through your parents,” Harris Pascoe said.

“Well, actually I know them more through my girlfriend who went to University with Caroline Penvenan, and were roommates in London. Harris, Richard, let me introduce you to my girlfriend Demelza Carne.” Ross had a proud smile on his face as he watched Demelza hold her own shaking the gentlemen's hands.

“It’s so very nice to meet you finally. Ross has told me so much about the both of you, and how much he loves working at the company.” Demelza had put on her best face, while wondering at the same time what Caroline was finding out.

“Very nice to meet you as well, Demelza. Ross has told us so much about you and your career at the BBC Orchestra,” Richard Tonkin said.

“Oh yes indeed,” added Harris Pascoe. “My wife and I often attend the concerts so I’m sure we’ve seen you play. How long have you been playing the cello?”

“Since 9th grade. We actually just received word that this spring we will be recording an album so we have a lot of work ahead of us to get ready. You should let Ross know whenever you go to a concert and we can meet for drinks afterwards.” Demelza was trying her best to be the perfect girlfriend for Ross in this situation. A situation that she’s never really found herself in before.

“Oh yes, that would be lovely. I’m sure my wife really would enjoy that. Richard, you should come along as well with your wife and we could make an outing out of it.” Harris said.

“Well, Vera is always saying that I don’t take her out to many events with culture, so a BBC concert would check that box for a while. Speaking of wives, Harris, I think ours are signalling us that it’s time to leave. Ross, see you at the office. Demelza, it was wonderful to meet you. You keep our Ross in line. No more foot surgeries! Happy New Year to you both.” Richard shook Ross’s hand and nodded his head to Demelza as he went to go meet his wife.

Harris was shaking Ross’s hand as well, “Take care Ross. You as well Demelza.” Harris scurried off to his wife as well.

Ross pulled Demelza in for a hug, “Thank you for doing that. I know you had your mind on something else.”

“No need to thank me Ross. I was just trying to be the dutiful partner for you. They seem very nice.”

“Oh yes, they are. They are my favourites out of the partners. Since they’re from Cornwall, we get along beautifully. Shall we go find Caroline?” Ross asked.

“Oh yes please, if you don’t mind.” Demelza said. Ross took Demelza’s hand in his and they headed for the dining room. They found Caroline on their way.

Caroline had a serious look on her face when she approached her friends. “I was just coming to find you. I found him, the red headed server. Demelza, his name is Luke. He’s waiting for you in my Uncle’s study.”

Demelza put one of her hands on her stomach like she’d just been kicked. Ross and Caroline looked at each other, then looked at Demelza again.

Ross asked, “Are you up for this Demelza?”

“Not really, but what choice do I have? Will you go with me Ross?” she asked.

“Of course, love. I’ll be right by your side. I won’t leave unless you ask me to.” Ross saw an expression on Demelza’s face that he didn’t recognize. It was as if she became a different person right before his eyes and it worried him. Her rosy cheeks had lost their colour and her skin was almost grey. Her beautiful blue eyes had an empty hollow look to them. There wasn’t a cheery smile, or a mischievous grin, just a slight sag of her face from the weight of the past.

The concerned Ross asked, “Demelza, what if I were to go meet your brother and convey your thoughts to him. You don’t need to put yourself through this. You can sit somewhere alone.”

“That’s a very kind thought Ross, but I think I should see him as well. I don’t want him to think that I’m too good to see him or talk to him. Let’s just go and get it over with and then go back to Nampara.” She placed her hand on Ross’s face, letting Ross take it and kiss her palm and lead her into the study.

********************

Ross had his arm around Demelza’s waist as they walked into the Penvenan study. They saw a gentleman dressed in all black with long red hair that was pulled back into a manbun, looking out the window. His back towards the couple. He heard footsteps behind him. He could feel his heart beat quicker the closer the couple got to him. Finally he turned around. Demelza let out a small gasp and put her hand to her mouth. Ross was studying the face of the man standing in front of him. It was like he was looking at a male version of Demelza. Ross gently squeezed her waist to remind her that he was there for her.

“It is you,” Demelza whispered.

“Hello sister,” the man said.

“Hello Luke,” Demelza said.

***************************

I Am Yours by Andry Grammar https://youtu.be/qOAiw54saOw

#aidan turner #modernpoldark #six sentence sunday #work in progress #eleanor tomlinson #demelza carne #ross poldark #poldark #demelza poldark

29 notes · View notes