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simp-ly-writes · 4 months ago

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The Bodyguard

─────── · · THE GENTLEMEN (2024)

PAIRING: Bodyguard!Edward "Eddie" Horniman x Fem!Reader

─ · · SUMMARY: Your parents decide with your recent party-heavy behaviour that you are in need of an adult babysitter- or as they call it a bodyguard.

─ · · WARNINGS: contract relationship, child neglect, anxiety attacks, overall angst with fluff

─ · · MASTERLIST | TAGLIST REQUEST | WORDCOUNT: 2,112

─ · · A/N: Find it funny how many posts I see complain about "small fandoms" then you have The Gentlemen (2024). I need more people to talk to about this show...

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Up until now, you were always by yourself. In school you struggled to make friends and the few that you still kept in contact with were set with quarterly interactions. The large house you resided in empty besides the few staff that maintained the estate- they were disgusted by the lifestyle you lived- or rather, how they thought you lived.

You got used to not having your parents home, on having no one to ask you how your day went, if you ate that night and what your plans were later that week. The statue collection soon became your greatest confidants, the gallery your absolute favourite room to take lunch in beside the garden when the weather was acceptable.

In all the assets you held, the clothes all still new with tags on in the closet, the endless rows of wine bottles in the basement that your teenage self drowned in and the hedge maze you lost yourself in even when knowing where every exit and secret nook and cranny of. It was plastic happiness, just shiny objects staring back at you and reflecting upon yourself.

You tried to loose yourself in the high life just as every other member of your family did. Sleeping with actors and musicians alike, forcing yourself into yoga classes with young rich wives that only used their manicured nails to pierce each others skin behind doors. It was when you were reaching your late twenties that your parents took notice of your failing public image as you stumbled out of cabs, got caught in multiple scandals only because you were affecting their businesses.

And thats how you found yourself no longer alone but with an adult babysitter, or how your parents described it- a bodyguard.

─────── · ·

"I am old enough to take care of myself, I hate no need for someone to follow me around-" you started to say, your nails digging into your palms as anger started to swell into your eyes in unshed tears of frustration. A younger version of yourself would have been jumping out of joy for having company- your mature self only realizing how much having someone with you would only be added weight.

"Well it is too late for your opinion, the contract has already been finalized and settled, now he is waiting for you by the car. Please, don't make a further embarrassment of the family name," your mother concluded, already turning away from you and walking down the overwhelmingly bare and white hallway. Her heels clacking to a still as you picked up your voice in retaliation.

"How am I much more of an embarrassment than your lack of care or Cousin Simon's multi-day ragers! What about father's multiple hook-ups, or Jacklyns-"

"ENOUGH! I am sick and tired of your incessant whining since you were a child- you are a spoiled little thing since you were born. I gave you everything you could have wanted: books, toys, clothes, sports, and yet you throw all of my hard work aside for what- your constant need for attention? Your new bodyguard will give you everything you ever wanted- be grateful for once in your life and go- now."

The tears now endlessly poured down your cheeks, your breathing rapid, in-takes frequent as you stumbled outside the office space. Your vision was blurry, hands shaking and make-up now a mess as you threw yourself into the car without a second thought.

A detailed handkerchief was soon presented in front of your face as your eyes narrowed in confusion. Turning your gaze to the side and up an attractive man stared back at you. Brown curls framed his eyes paired with slim black frames for glasses. His beard was freshly cut, stubble poking out across his cheeks and chin as he offered you a polite smile at the time you took to analyze him and the well-tailored suit that fitted his tall form.

Cheeks feeling warm, you pitifully chuckled to yourself and took the napkin, opening up your handbag to find a compact mirror as you readjusted yourself. Satisfied you thought of handing the piece of cloth back before decided otherwise, the man noticed your hesitating hand with a brief chuckle before responding, "I can take it back later, are you doing better now miss?"

Still struggling to find your voice to signal your shock, grief, and anger after the interaction with your mother- you forced a nod before looking out the window. Your shoulders only rising as anxiety coated every goosebump on your skin. The man opened and closed his mouth a few times, debating with himself to continue conversation before decided to continue the ride home in silence- much to your approval.

─────── · ·

A few weeks into having your bodyguard, who you found to be named Edward- Eddie he insisted you called him with how much time your spent alongside one another. You tried to forget he was there as you continued your schedule, taking breakfast in bed as he stood outside your door to take you down to the car.

You would then head to your morning yoga classes. He would stand near the door, your water bottle and bag in hand as multiple of the said-to-be-married women tried to coax him into their beds with fake eyelash flutters and tight-fitting clothes yet he would keep his gaze forward. Eyes only snapping to your own as he greeted you with a pleasant smile, asked you how your session went and provided you with the materials in hand before leading you out once more.

Next, a walk around downtown and a visit to the local galleries, two steps behind you he walks was, you could see his shadow overtaking your own on the floor as you talked with the curators- wondering if you could add to your parents (now practically your own) growing collection before heading back home for lunch among the paintings or flowers.

You would insist on Edward- Eddie, to sit across from you. A guilty part eating away at yourself for having someone to join your little glass prison as you offered food of your plate only to be denied. "I will take care of myself once knowing you are fully taken care of miss, now please enjoy your meal- act as if I am not here as you usually do."

When you first met him, you failed to realize how comforting his baritone voice sounded in your ears. How heavy he made each word feel as they draped a blanket of calmness of yourself in reassurance. Offering him a smile in silent thanks, he raised a brow in question to your reaction yet continued just as he asked- chipping away at your meal before turning in early for the day.

─────── · ·

He was protective, you noted to yourself- maybe even bridging on overprotective as his eyes followed your shining form in that dress across the bar top and towards the dance floor as you met up with nepo-babies and start-up engineers alike.

You danced in twirled, a smile fighting its way across Edwards face as he took in your radiant smile as you drifted in between the sea of sweaty bodies and pumping music. The strobe lights had him seeing double before clarity soon coated his vision alongside red as a man felt of your backside. He watched you politely smile, your shoulders crawling upwards, your spine twisting into itself as you tried to raise the mans touch to a more respectable level before looking for a way out once realizing he was not taking the hint.

Edward walked through the people as the crowd parted for him with his determined steps. His hand gripped the mans, his head flipping over to catch the glare in his stare levelling his own. "More along," Edward said in a firm tone leaving no room for question- or what you both thought. The man smirked up at your bodyguard, a laugh erupting in his throat as he leaved in closer a finger pressing at Edwards chest. "And who are you to tell me off, the girls single so you need back the fuck off man- I got to her first."

"And it seems even though you were first, you are the last person she wants to be with right now. I ask you again to leave or I will show you out, your choice," Edward replied. His head and tone dipping towards the shorted man as you looked in between the two. Not knowing weather to jump the man for touching you or to jump your bodyguard for the vein budging from his neck. Your stomach soon decided for you as you leaned into Edwards side, face pressing into his arm, "I want to go home now, I feel like shit."

"Alright miss," and with one last glare towards the man, he wrapped his jacket around yourself as you fell back into and out of your party lifestyle once realizing he was not going to leave your side and also realized just how much his gaze on you made you feel like a teenage girl once again.

Butterflies in your stomach, skin hot and eyes wide as you stared up at him in a drunken daze. You felt his hand on your cheeks as he inspected your face, catching on your nose as some residue still sat on its tip. Wiping it off with his thumb before calling up your driver. He sat with you the whole ride home as you snuggled into his side with your hazed babbles.

Once exiting the car, you swore to feel the need of puking- the next moment he was holding your hair back, rubbing your back as you emptied your stomach into the front bushes.

You don't know how you made it into your bed the next day, or slipped out of your heels and took your hair out of its style in your drunken state. Yet you celebrated yourself by taking a bath that morning before getting lost in the warm waters that soon turned into cold realization. You couldn't look at your bodyguard for the next week without doing your best to speedily walk away from him, or turn your head when he asked about your itinerary.

You hated how much you smiled when hearing his chuckle at your antics, reminding you it was all part of the job. And you equally hated the disappointment your heart felt when he mentioned your time together was a contracted one.

─────── · ·

You soon became obsessed with taking in every detail of this man. How after you asked where his glasses went on that first day had returned the next. How he fixed them every time you laughed at a snide comment he made, joining your commentary of the women at yoga that day.

You became fixated on how his suit would move with his body, fabric subtly outlining the muscles of his arms, how how when you ate dinner in the greenhouse, he would straighten out his coat on the chair behind himself. Rolling his sleeves up before picking up the seemingly small teacup in his large hands with high-class elegance before casting you a cheeky wink as you choked on your own drink.

You loved the way he rushed to pat your back, ask if you were feeling alright and then went back to his emotionless facade as if nothing had happened moments later and you too would fall into this habit. Your lagging mind catching up with your heart as realization overcame the two of you on how nothing more could come of this- nothing good at least.

Edward would open every door for you, allow you to walk on the inside of the sidewalk, would make sure you had the booth seat and take a hand in between your shoulder blades, sometimes the back of your neck in crammed and crowded spaces as you made your way through your parents workplace events and end-of-year parties.

And every night when you would come home, the house quiet your cold bed waiting for you with dim lights. Edward would wish you a goodnight before softly closing the door, you would wait in the far side of your room till you couldn't hear his footsteps anymore in fear of asking him to stay with you.

To truly give you all of his time, your mothers voice came back into your head, calling you selfish in your wants and you listened once more. Listening had gotten you to meet Eddie but maybe you were failing to listen to the right parts...

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─ · · A/N: It has been such a long time since I have written something, I hope that this was not a terrible read (hahaha... ermmm...)

#eddie halstead x reader #x reader #eddie x reader #the gentlemen #the gentlemen x reader #netflix #the gentlemen netflix #fanfic #fanfiction #simp-ly #simp-ly-writes #eddie horniman #eddie horniman x reader #edward horniman #edward horniman x reader #the gentlemen 2024 #bodyguard #bodyguard au #au

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bluemusickid · 9 months ago

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The Heiress

Pairing: Lucien Flores x Heiress Fem!Reader

Warnings: 18+, minors DNI, smut, oral (f receiving), unprotected p in v (don't be silly wrap your willy), slight dub-con (if you squint), slight dom-sub dynamics, just in general smuttiness, read at your own risk.

A/N: The collective brainrot those clips have brought us as a fandom (thanks for that, Tony ;3), is INSANE. This is just a smalllll effort in keeping that alive till we get the full movie. I have to confess: this is just shameless PWP at this point lmaoooo (don't judge me, i'm just a girl after all). enjoy and please reblog if you liked it thankssss <3 <3

Note: By clicking read more, you consent to my terms and have heed all warning mentioned above.

(Photos/Gifs of P, credz: @a7estrellas, the dividers are by the lovely @saradika-graphics)

Dull.

That's what these parties were to you always. Dull. Throw in a bunch of old men in stiff suits holding onto champagne flutes like their lives depended on it. Even worse, they tried to sell themselves to you, as if their sad marketing convinced you. You still entertained them, owing to a lack of anything fun happening around those parts.

That is till you met him.

Lucien, he had introduced himself. A cigarette hanging loosely from his lips, a champagne flute in his hand as he was engaged in a conversation with Hermann Astor, owner of the art gallery that was hosting one of the many boring do's you simply HAD to attend.

Truth be told, you weren't really listening to him. The whole "I'm-a-man-of-culture-so-of-course-I-know-art" spiel was boring. So many men trying to dazzle you with their "expertise", but you couldn't care less. To your surprise though, Lucien didn't mansplain or explain the intricacies of art missed by many. He let Hermann drone on, only piping in when something piqued his interest. He only met your eyes a few times, his dark brown hues holding his secrets.

But you knew what he was thinking. It was quite obvious, isn't that what most men wanted in this room? A chance to talk to you, an heiress to a hefty inheritance, maybe a chance to woo you, wine and dine you and then pop a ring on your finger. Maybe get you pregnant. Secure the bag.

Atleast that's what you assumed he wanted, but he didn't seem like the type to talk you up. He was mostly interested in having a chat about your life, why you hung out at these places especially since you gave no fucks about fine arts, and so on. It was surprising, true, but maybe men changed up their tactics ever so often. So you played along, as you always did. Answering with as much truth as you could.

You found yourself on the balcony standing next to him, staring at the vast grounds with its fine cut grass and neatly trimmed hedges, the moon casting its glow upon it. Turning to him, you decided to cut to the chase. You were bored, and only a quick fuck could break the tedium. Running your hand along his arm, you pulled him to one of the bedrooms, pushing him against the door. Leaning towards him, you brought your lips close to his, waiting for his permission to continue. He leaned forward, as you latched your lips to his, guiding his arms to wrap around you, deepening the kiss as you pushed yourself further into him. That's odd, you thought. This actually felt nice.

His lips, while hesitant at first, tangled with yours, the heat warming your bones. He ever so slightly placed his hands on you, running them down your body down to your hips, squeezing gently as he rested them there; pulling you towards him and his growing erection.

Itching to taste him, you knelt down, licking his growing manhood over the fabric of his tight dress pants. With a growl, he pulled you up, gripping your shoulders as he turned you around and walked you over to the bed behind you. Pushing you down, he bent you over so your ass was up in the air as your face was smushed into the soft bedding eagerly waiting in anticipation.

You felt his hot breath as his lips trailed along your thighs, his tongue running over the divots and the stretch marks that adorned your skin. You squirmed, wishing he would turn his attention to the place you needed him the most. He seemed to have heard your unspoken wish, because the very next moment, his lips moved over your core, his tongue lightly ghosting over your wet folds, your swollen core. You panted, your hands grabbing the duvet with a force that you weren't even sure was possible.

Lucien started off slow, and then dove in, his tongue swirling over your swollen nub, as he gathered your wetness on his finger and pushed a digit inside; his tongue and his finger working in tandem. You groaned loudly, pushing your hips onto his tongue, not realising that they were moving of their own accord, ever-so-slightly undulating and moving in rhythm to his licks and thrusts. Through the haze of pure lust, you realised that you were meant to be in control of this entire situation. Reaching behind, you tangled your fingers into his soft brown curls, pulling him even closer to your nub as you fucked yourself on his tongue, moaning loudly as he groaned at your act of dominance; the vibrations shooting through your core, making their way through your body. He added another finger, doubling his efforts as he felt your legs shake, and your core tightening as you neared your peak.

You screamed into the duvet, muffling your cries as your orgasm took over. You would've collapsed into the mattress had Lucien not been holding on to you, resting his head on your back as he caught his breath as well. The both of you lay there, him spooning you, till your breathing returned to normal. Straightening your clothes, you both exited the room, not meeting each others' eyes, no words spoken to one another.

The rest of the evening went very well, your secret rendezvous leaving you satiated, yet hungry for more.

The second time you met him was at the Charity Ball held by your "good friend" Fiona Mayhew, who got on your nerves most of the time, but did a lot of good for underprivileged children/teens and their education; so you stuck around. At first, you didn't really wish to go to her stuffy ball; but RSVP'd yes, with the smallest hope that Lucien would be there.

He was, of course. Dressed in a well tailored, crisp tux, his messy brown curls slicked back and gelled down. You hated to admit it, but he looked downright edible. You pretended not to notice him at first, making small talk with the members of the small group he was entertaining. You mingled, the both of you catching each others gaze as you talked to the other guests, your eyes conveying what you couldn't bring yourself to say. You barely managed to pull your gaze away from him each time, silently berating yourself for giving him that much importance. It was all a game, all a ploy.

It was working, though. Because the next time he caught your gaze, his deep brown eyes darkened as he walked out of the gigantic ball room, making his way to the large area where the cars were parked. Making his way through the maze of luxury, vintage cars, he walked over to a cambrian grey Bentley, leaning against it as an invitation to join him. He smirked, watching your hips sway as you sashayed towards him, ready to beat him at his own game. He held the door open, his hand moving from the small of your back to rest on your behind, giving you a small smack as you made your way in. Tsking, you gave him a wolfish grin, as you slid the dropped sleeves of your gown from your shoulders, his eyes bulging at the sight of your gorgeous breasts being freed from their confines.

The car shook, almost too violently, as you bounced on his cock, a moan escaping your mouth as you felt him hit your front wall, over and over. You'd always thought of sex as a chore, something to get over with. But it felt different, with him; it felt as if your body and mind split, and was only concentrated on him and how he felt inside. Your core squeezed around him, as you pulled him deeper inside; fingernails digging into his meaty shoulder. Leaning forward, he rested his forehead in the crook of your neck as he thrust up into you, pulling you towards him to meet his sharp and pointed thrusts. Your breath caught in your throat, lips ghosting over his as your breaths mingled, all thoughts of speech banished. He kissed his way down your neck to your gorgeous globes, running the tip of his tongue around your swollen nipples. This action made you groan, running your fingers through his hair, completely mussing them up and ruining his do. You couldn't care less; with the way he was making you feel, you had half a mind to pull him to the ballroom and fuck him in front of everyone to show the reason for his and your disheveled states.

His thrusts began to speed up as he held you in place, your legs trembling and burning as you tried to hold yourself up, absorbing every bit of his amorous assault on you. Undoing the buttons of his crisp white shirt, you yanked the shirt off his shoulder, biting down hard at the exposed skin. He growled loudly, thrusting up once, then twice as he emptied himself into you, painting your walls as you squeezed every drop from him, reaching your explosive end as well. The euphoria melted into your veins, swiftly coursing through the length of your body. But yet again, as he helped you straighten yourself up, no words were spoken.

Both of you made your way back to the ballroom, your clothes and hair slightly askew, and a bright red mark on Lucien's neck, that he didn't bother hiding for the rest of the night. You wouldn't be surprised if people found out that the two of had been together, let alone what the two of you were upto

You couldn't bring yourself to care, though.

And now here you were, months later. You hadn't seen Lucien for quite some time, but you didn't really care all that much. It wasn't like you were pining after him. On the contrary, you'd found quite a few men to keep yourself entertained.

You walked into Fiona's beach soiree, thanking divine providence that it wasn't a black tie affair. The fact that it was at her luxurious beach house, which was facing the vast ocean, just happened to be a silver lining. You made your way around the party, chatting with Fiona about her latest venture, the NGO she had established, the soiree a means to raise funds.

As the night progressed, you found yourself pleasantly buzzed as you sat at the bar, waiting for the bartender to serve you. A familiar voice directed at you made you turn, only to see Lucien standing there, a flute of champagne in his hands, his signature smirk on his face. You tried to ignore the butterflies in your stomach, shifting your focus to the drink placed in front of you. He looked amazing, his messy curls softly styled, his beautiful neck adorned with gold chains and a thick ring on his finger. You had never seen him this casual, the Hawaiian shirt he had donned sitting loosely on him, leaving little to imagination.

Raising your glass at him in a silent toast, you smiled, taking a swig of the bubbly liquid. Delicious.

"You alone?" He drawled.

You gestured around, "Do you see anyone else here?"

"Touché." He took a swig of his drink, eyebrows raising as he savoured it. There was a small lull in the conversation but you didn't mind. It's not like the both of you talked when you were together.

"So. Long time no see."

"Yeah, kinda hard to see someone if they don't really show their face at events." you mused dryly.

He chuckled, nodding at the accusation. Taking your flute from your hand, he put the glasses on the counter, beckoning to the garden at the back of the house, "up for a smoke?"

"I don't smoke.", you said smugly, downing the glass in front of you.

He leaned towards you, bending down to whisper in your ear, "Who said anything about smoking?"

You should've known. It never ended in just talking, in fact, you don't think you've ever had a proper conversation with Lucien, barring that one time on the balcony, the night you met him. It was as if the bond between you was solely driven by the sheer lust and attraction you had for one another. Just the way you preferred it, and wanted it, truth be told.

As you both made your way outside, Lucien pinned you to the stone wall, locking his fingers with yours as he held your arms by your head, his lips brushing over yours. You wanted to ask him many things, probably talk about the both of you and your arrangement, but you couldn't bring yourself to talk. Atleast, not now.

You felt your insides flutter in anticipation, as he left kisses all over you: your neck, your breasts, your stomach. Pushing your dress up, he left open-mouthed kisses along your thighs, biting and sucking till he left marks, you were sure of it. Pulling your lace panties to the side, he began to eat you out with a ferocity that aroused you and scared you in equal parts. All you could do was hold on as he held your wet folds apart, his tongue running over your swollen nub. Briefly, he pulled back to look at your core; swearing under his breath as he saw how wet you were for him. He dove back in, pulling your lips apart with his fingers as he fucked you with his tongue for all he was worth.

You had died and gone to heaven, you were sure of it. Stars exploded behind your eyelids as each swipe of Lucien's tongue made you forget all about your surroundings. Your leg was on his shoulder, your dress was basically falling off your body and you had nearly bitten off a finger trying to hold your screams in. If he weren't so good with his tongue and his fingers, you would have laughed at the way your body turned to putty near this man.

You were rudely pulled out of your thoughts by the feel of him pushing inside you, hitching your leg on his hip as he bottommed inside you. You gasped as he stayed there, letting you feel all of him as he feasted on your breasts, his thumbs and tongue working their magic. He began to move, his hand holding both your arms above your head, restricting your movements. Rutting into you with abandon, he snarled as he felt your pussy clench around him as he tightened his hold on your arms. Using them as leverage, he quickened his motion, anchoring your waist as he fucked into you wildly, using your body for his own pleasure.

"Fuck...take it. take it all." he grunted through gritted teeth, letting go of your arms as he held you steadily, his fingers making their way to your core, circling your swollen clit.

You heard yourself shriek as you came apart, throwing your arms around his shoulders as he reached his end as well, his warm spend coating your walls. Your core pulsed, nearly strangling his cock as the aftershocks died down. Suddenly feeling exhausted, you slid down the wall as he held you, gently rocking you till you came back to normal.

As you recovered from your explosive high, there was only one thought in your mind: you were truly and honestly screwed.

GAHHHH IDK HOW THIS TURNED OUT BUT OMFG i had suchhhh fun writing it!! Hope y'all enjoy! I don't do taglists anymore, just turn on blog notifs for @lexiscyberlibrary to be notified about any new fics!

Love ya!

-xoxo Lexi <3

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two-white-butterflies · 2 years ago

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let the light in - am. targaryen

Description: Aemond is your father's business partner. Despite the age-gap, you find yourself falling for him. (modern au) Rating: 18+ age-gap, light comedy at the end and vanilla smut Series: part two of my mafia one-shots.

A thick smoke always follow his body, the smell of strong male-perfume radiating through the atmosphere, and his fucking smile. Those were the three things that reminded you of Mr. Aemond. He was your father's closest friend - his right hand man, who would one day inherit the entire thing.

"There's only one kind of business, the bottom line." your father chuckles, filling his cup with whiskey.

He was staring at you - with that hungry grin. His legs were spread open, almost welcoming you to sit. "Our competitors are weak, sir. They don't stand a chance against us." Aemond confirms, blowing a puff of thick smoke in the atmosphere.

He was the man of your dreams. He always smelled like black coffee, cigarettes and perfume. He's got you weak on your knees. "Still, I want them finished." he commanded, eyes suddenly turning cold.

Your father was an insecure man - paranoid of the people that wanted his power. He only trusted you and Aemond.

"That can be arranged," Aemond mumbles, puffing another cloud of smoke in your father's gallery.

You follow after him that night, stopping in front of his Mercedes before he could get inside. "You aren't gonna kill them, right?" you inquire, resting your hand on the hood of his car. He gives you a small glance - not enough to scare you, but enough to prove that he didn't care. "There's a lot of things that you'd do for my dad, but one of them shouldn't be killing, sir." you grit your teeth, uncomfortable of the idea that he'd be murdering someone.

That would ruin the image, wouldn't it?

"Listen, princess - your dad's business isn't your business." he replied curtly, gently moving you out of the way so that he could open his car. He was a cold and uncaring man - but you saw something inside of him that was worth fighting for.

"Come on," you groan, watching as he went inside his car. You immediately bolt to the other side, circling his hood and settling beside the front passenger seat. You open the door before he could lock it, a piece of your mind wanted to believe that he wanted you beside him.

"What are you doing?" he questions, putting on his seatbelt with a small smirk.

"I'm going with you." you demanded.

"Whatever you say, princess." he hums, starting his car.

Best believe that he never made it out of the gated community. He was parked right outside of your house, lips on your own. "If only daddy could see you now," he teases, rubbing his hands through your unclothed body. He was almost sure that no one could see the both of you - because of the thick hedges that hid his car from view.

He breaks the kiss - to stare at your face. His eye flickered a familiar color. It was the look of a boy who was cunt-struck. The boys at your old school used to look at you in the same way.

"You're making me do something that can only be kept as a secret." he whispers, cupping your cheeks and staring at those beautiful eyes. "I wanna be your secret," you coo and his face softens. A fucking menace for a wife, that is what you'd be.

The sound of your voice has him hard on his cock.

"You wanna be my little girl?" he questions, pulling your face closer but avoiding the steering-wheel in front of him. "I wanna be that," you whisper, and his hands reach past you and down to the buttons of your chair - reclining it, until you were lying down.

You stare at him again - waiting and anticipating his next move. He places the car on park, blasting the ac until it was a perfect temperature from him. He gets rid of his top, hovering over you.

"Turn the car off, I want it hot." you demand, and he rolls down the windows to the car. "We'll suffocate, princess." he hums - staring at you with a predatory stare. He reminded you of one of the lions that you'd see in the zoo - scary but pretty.

He leans back down, bridging your lips together - but now, you were grinding unto him. Chasing your pleasure with the small bulge in his pants, your hands walk down to unzip his pants, shocked at the length of him. "That's big," you say out loud and a chuckle emerges from his mouth.

"You want this inside of you? Inside your little cunny?" he teases, pumping his cock a few times - seeing a bit of precum dribble down into his leather seats. "Yeah, do it." you demanded, earning another chuckle from the man. You were used to getting what you wanted - it comes with the title of being the daughter of a mob.

"You have to earn it, baby." he announces, running his hands through your beautiful breasts. He kneels on top of the chair, legs slightly parted to make way for your hips. "You ever sucked a man before?" he questions and you shake your head.

"I'll teach you," he says, signaling for your face to move closer to his cock. "Give me a kiss," he commands - and you obey him, pressing butterfly kisses on his growing erection. You were a lewd sight - increasing his lust by twenty.

Her hands danced on his thighs and his breathing became more erratic. He gasped slowly as he realizes that she was sucking him - with no need of instruction. "Yes, right there." he moans, arching his hips slightly to have a better angle. You lapped his dick - sucking on it eagerly so he could reward you.

A chill ran down his spine at the feel of your tongue swirling around his engorged lust. "Good," he kept moaning, looking down at you and burying his hand on your hair. You were a fucking delight.

"So good." he exhaled, feeling his peak come closer.

"Stop." he commanded, and you released his penis - creating a thick strand of saliva that connected the both of you. "You want me to cum inside of you?" he teased and you nod. The anticipation was overbearing. He reaches for the condom on his back-pocket - earning a raise of an eyebrow from you.

"Come," he motions while wrapping his dick with the rubber. "Open your legs," he ordered - you open it for a bit, but he grows impatient - opening it wider. He wastes no time in inserting his penis inside your gaping hole. "I'll be gentle," he promises - you stare at him again.

"I like rough sex," you confess - a small chuckle exits his mouth.

"Dirty lying girl, this isn't your first time?" he stated and you nodded with a giggle. "I'm sorry - I didn't wanna get into trouble." you reasoned - he began thrusting inside of you, reaching places that you didn't think existed.

"You're in trouble now, princess." he hums.

He groans at your tightness, feeling your walls push against his length. "So big," you huff, feeling him pump into your body. "I'm flattered," he smirks, burying his face on your shoulder.

He was about to say something dirty but a knock on the car window broke him away from his bliss. Luckily, the windows were slightly tinted, not fully opened- and the person outside wasn't able to make out your face. "Who is it?" you complain, trying to peek through his body - but he pushes you down. "It's your dad," he panicked, feeling embarrassment course through his body.

"Fuck," you curse, hearing your father laugh on the other side.

"Aemond, I told you to kill someone - not fuck one of my daughter's maids." the man takes a deep breath of his tobacco, staring at the other direction. "I'm sorry, princess." Aemond mumbles, zipping his trousers - he presses a soft kiss on your lips. "Pick me up tomorrow, quarter to five." you remind, and he leans deeper into the kiss - before finding his way on the driver's seat and hurrying to chase after your dad.

You sigh.

One day.

@beaconofthehightower @casualheartadorable

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prompt-heaven · 1 year ago

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100 different locations

abandoned house

airport

alleyway

amusment park

antique store

apartment

aquarium

art gallery

art studio

auto repair shop

bakery

ballroom

bar

bathroom

beach

bedroom

book store

bridge

bus

by a bonfire

cabin

cafe

car

casino

castle

cave

city

closet

club

coffee shop

concert

courthouse

crime scene

dentist

diner

dressing room

elevator

farm

festival

field

fire escape

fire station

flower shop

foreign country

forest

funeral

garden

gas station

graveyard

greenhouse

grocery store

harbor

haunted house

hedge maze

hospital

hotel

ice cream shop

island

kitchen

lab

lake

library

mall

market

mine

mountain

museum

music store

ocean

office

orchard

park

parking lot

photoshoot

pier

place of worship

plane

playground

police station

pool

resturant

river

road

rooftop

school

sex shop

ship

small town

spa

sports game

spy agency head quarters

tattoo parlour

tent

thrift store

train

treehouse

university

vet clinic

waterfall

wedding

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fayes-fics · 1 year ago

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It Had To Be You: Chapter 8 - I've Changed My Mind, I Take It Back

Masterpost PREV | NEXT

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader, Modern AU

Summary: The fallout from the best night of your life was never going to be pretty…

artwork credit @colettebronte

Warnings: none, really... just some swearing and brief references to sex. Bit of angst and some arguing.

Word Count: 4.0k

Authors Note: A multi-chapter modern rom-com retelling of When Harry Met Sally. In this chapter, both reader and Benedict deal - poorly - with the aftermath of their amazing night together. Yup, it's a slice of angst while hopefully still serving some laughs. This is what has to happen before these idiots can finally see the truth in the next chapter. Thanks to @colettebronte for the advice and betaing and @sorryallonsy for cheerleading and feedback. I hope you enjoy <3

The next morning, you watch silently, covers pulled up under your chin, as Benedict dresses—your stomach in an odd knot. It’s barely dawn, and you are both uncaffeinated, but still, it's the morning after the best sex of your life, and it’s awkward. And you don't know what to say to make it, well, unawkward.

“I have to go, stupid breakfast meeting about a gallery opportunity. But I'd like to see you later if you are free?” his tone is hedging as he sits on the end of the bed and pulls on his shoes.

“Err, sure. Dinner later?” you offer as he stands up and walks around to your side of the bed.

“Dinner sounds great,” he smiles with relief and leans in, placing a lingering kiss on your forehead.

You try not to wince, but a giant ball of something in the pit of your stomach wants to either push him away and make a joke, tell him to “knock it off, mate,” … or, much preferred, grab him by his stupid bloody shirt collar and give him a proper kiss, tongues and all. Haul him right back into your bed and ride him until you are both screaming.

He hovers over you, and your eyes meet, his dilating as if he reads where your thoughts slid, and with a sharp inhale, he pulls back and folds a lip under his teeth as if forbidding himself from taking action, too.

You tuck a strand of hair behind your ear and nod your farewell, burrowing deeper under the duvet, not wanting to see him to the door, not wanting a more stilted goodbye than it already is. You both know there is a shit-ton you need to talk about, but neither of you is capable of the intellectual space to unpack it at 6:30 am on a Friday morning.

As you hear your front door snick closed, you take a deep breath and reach for your phone. To contact the only person who might even begin to understand how seismic this is.

—

“Holy shit!!” Kate shrieks, startling Anthony from his slumber.

“What?!? What is it?!?” he sits bolt upright, half-asleep but panicked, her tone causing bile to rise in his throat. Whatever it is has to be serious.

“It fucking happened!” she exclaims, clutching her phone to her chest, an almost maniacal grin claiming her beautiful features as she leans back against the headboard and kicks her feet up gleefully.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Anthony urges, anxiety rolling off him in waves.

She thrusts her phone towards him, and he snatches it, alarmed. There is a pause while he reads a text, and then he sighs, slumping his head into his hands.

“Kate,” he exhales, rubbing his eyes, “for fucks sake. I thought the world was bloody ending! Or at least someone had fucking died. Not that my brother had sex.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?!” Kate retorts, taking back custody of her device and staring at him as if he is some alien creature. “Our best friends just fucked. HOW IS THAT NOT WORLD-CHANGING NEWS, VISCOUNT ANTHONY BRIDGERTON?!?”

Anthony slumps back onto his pillow with a huge sigh. “Okay, no need to whole name me. I thought you said it was bound to happen someday?” he stifles a yawn as he asks it.

“Yeah, so?! This is still huge news,” she argues, gesturing wildly, absolutely nonplussed by his total lack of reaction.

Anthony hums noncommittally, closing his eyes. Just then, his phone starts vibrating on his bedside table; the display lit up with a photo of his brother's drunken face.

“Is that him?! Get all the gossip!! I need deeeeeetails!!” Kate swats his bicep affectionately.

Anthony rolls his eyes and clicks the green button.

“No one I know would call at this hour,” he grouses in lieu of hello.

—

Benedict spends most of the ride in your building’s lift with his head pressed into the cold mirrored surface, eyes screwed shut, wondering if the world could swallow him up so he doesn’t have to think about anything. It takes every fibre of his willpower not to run back, fling your damn door open and bury himself inside you again. But that might make it weirder.

There's only one voice of reason he can think of.

“I know I'm sorry…” he replies abashedly to his brother's less-than-cheery greeting.

“So uhh, it happened, eh?” Anthony cuts to the chase, and Benedict realises you must have already contacted Kate. “How was it?”

“It was good. REALLY good. But then, this morning, it was like we didn't know what to say to each other. I just had to get out of there before I did something stupid like suggest we do it again. SHIT!! I have no idea what to do.”

“You want to come over for breakfast?” Anthony asks, then raises his eyes to a frantic Kate, making a cutting motion. Anthony can only surmise she has just offered the same to you.

“No, I'm not up to eating. I'm just going to get a coffee and a shower and try not to think about whether I've just fucked up the best friendship I've ever had…” he sighs.

Anthony shakes his head at Kate as she sighs in relief. “Listen, so maybe it didn't work out. It would have been great if it did, but…” Anthony shrugs and mouths, ‘What?’ at Kate, as she smacks his arm and gesticulates wildly.

“Hang up before you make it worse,” she growls as mutely as possible. Anthony knows better than to argue with that face. Last time, he ended up on the sofa for two nights.

“I've uh got to go, but we’ll talk later, okay?” Anthony offers.

“Sure,” Benedict trails off and hangs up.

“God….” Anthony flops onto the mattress, already disliking the day that has barely begun. “Tell me I will never have to be out there again,” he sighs, turning his head to look at Kate.

A beautiful smirk claims her face, and he is pleasantly surprised when she swings a leg over and straddles him, leaning in.

“Baby,” she breathes seductively into his ear, “you will never have to be out there again,” she adds silkily.

And suddenly, his morning is a thousand times better.

—

“It was a mistake,” you blurt out, unable to handle the silence any longer.

You have met Benedict for dinner at Pierre Victoire —something about their Beaujolais and Entrecote Steak et Frites just what you need to face this encounter; hence, it was your suggested spot. But you have barely exchanged a word since greeting each other.

A look of surprise briefly clouds his face, and then he agrees, perhaps a little too enthusiastically for your taste.

“I’m so glad you think so. I couldn’t agree more,” he gusts, a hand clamping over his heart in seeming relief at the break in tension. “I’m not saying it wasn’t great….,” he adds.

“It was,” you cut in, somehow needing him to know that more than anything.

He nods and continues, “It really was…we just should never have done it.”

“Agreed,” you chime in, mirroring his big exhale like a burden has been lifted.

“I’m so relieved,” he sighs as the waiter puts down your steaks.

And somehow, you are back to silence, unsure what else to say to each other. In fact, it stays like that for what feels like an age.

“It’s so nice to be able to sit with someone and not have to talk,” he opines at some point halfway through dinner.

All you can do is nod and take a huge gulp of wine.

Difficult, difficult, lemon, difficult.

—

“Okay, so most of the time when you sleep with someone new, you’re just getting to know each other; you have stories to tell,” you puff, feeling like you are dying.

Kate has dragged you to SoulCycle for a ‘fuckfest postmortem’ first thing the next day. It’s Saturday morning, and frankly, right now, you are wishing she was more of a Bellini-brunch-at-a-gastropub kind of person. She used to be; it's her drive to be ultra fit for her wedding that is at fault - it somehow now being a danger to your health.

“Sure…” she nods, looking enviably unsweaty and beautiful in her tiny lycra outfit.

“But with him, we know all of each other's stories already. So once we had sex, it was like we just didn’t know what else to say to each other,” you struggle out.

“Hmmm,” Kate hums distractedly, checking her Apple Watch.

“Maybe you get to a certain point in a relationship where it’s just too late to have sex, y’know?” you shrug, certain a coronary is about to happen. To the point, you are almost grateful when your shoe slips off the pedal and you fall to the floor in an undignified puddle.

Yup, that seems about right.

—

“Is she bringing anyone to the wedding?” Benedict asks, pulling on the brocade waistcoat handed to him by the kindly old gent.

“Really, you want to do this? Here? Now?” Anthony shoots back exasperated, gesturing pointedly to his full white-tie outfit.

It's three weeks after the ‘incident’, as they have taken to calling it, and the boys are getting suited up for the wedding at the same outfitters on Savile Row that the Bridgertons have been going to for generations. One of those old-fashioned wood-panelled places that doesn't even have a real sign outside.

“I was just asking…” he replies, defensive.

Anthony sighs. “She is seeing some software developer,” he admits, fiddling with some cufflinks. “I don't think it's that serious; Kate says he's not coming to the wedding.”

“What’s he like?” Benedict inquires, and Anthony wants to laugh at how badly he is masking his obvious jealousy with faux indifference.

“Rich, handsome, intelligent, athletic—your basic nightmare,” Anthony shrugs.

The sour face Benedict pulls tells him everything Anthony could ever want to know about just how bad his little brother has it.

—

BB: Miss you, Bluey.

It’s never a good idea to text at 1:30 a.m. Especially not someone you’ve been too embarrassed to contact for a month. And especially when you are pretty drunk and hiding in the toilets of a nightclub, avoiding your inebriated younger brother, Colin, on his birthday. Except here Benedict is, doing precisely that, chewing on his nail, awaiting a response.

Y/N: Bluey….?

Ah, shit.

In his drunken state, he temporarily forgot that’s a private nickname he’s given you. His lovely, little blue lobster. He doubts you even remember that FaceTime call all those months ago. He is trying to find a witty excuse when another message pops up.

Y/N: Miss you too, Nudey-face.

He barks a laugh, still entertained that you find his lack of a beard amusing, even though it's been nine months since he shaved it off.

Y/N: Don’t like that? I've got others…

BB: Oh, this ought to be good.

Y/N: Apple-guzzler

Y/N: Dance-ninja

Y/N: Half-assed-peeping-tom

He is giggling, something in his being so fizzy and light that you have slipped right back into your old ways of texting as if nothing happened.

Y/N: Duvet-hog

That last one makes his heart leap, and his chest constricts, memories of your magical night together flooding back. Something wistful tugging in his gut; the idea that you could have more nights of fantastic sex as well as this fun, playful dynamic he has missed so much. But then he recalls with a bitter taste that you have apparently moved on. Emboldened, he decides to tackle that elephant in the room, whiskey doing the typing as much as he is.

BB: I hear you might have a +1 for the wedding…?

The three dots appear twice over, but then nothing. After eight minutes - he counts - he sighs and slips his phone back into his pocket.

Ah, fuck.

—

You chew your lip. Guilt burning behind your ribs, even as you know it’s ridiculous to feel as such. Part of you feels a hollow victory that he was the one to reach out first, but you know it’s pure liquid courage. Kate texted an hour ago that she had dipped out of Colin’s party, leaving all the brothers worse for wear.

Twice you try to craft a response to his last message, simple then jokey, but both feel wrong. You decide it’s better to not respond. At least not at almost two in the morning with that possible plus one lying asleep next to you. It’s not even something you have broached with him, going to the wedding, and now you’re sure you don’t want him there. He’s nice, but you know it’s a rebound thing—an ego boost, a mildly pleasant distraction at most.

—

“Wear the fucking penises, you coward!” Kate slurs bossily, handing you the cheap plastic deeley boppers with glittery gold cocks.

You sigh. “Fine. But don’t blame me if they don’t let us into this place,” you grumble, tugging your coat tighter around your body and bouncing on your strappy-heeled sandals, trying to fight off the seasonal chill.

This is Kate's hen party weekend in Bath, and it’s not going as you’d planned. After the pampering spa day and fancy meal you had arranged as maid of honour, the evening has descended into debauchery. Her sister Edie had booked a male stripper who was almost traumatised by just how feral Kate turned after the vodka luge (also an Edie addition). Now you are all queued up outside some cheesy nightclub that wasn’t on the cards, but Kate insisted.

“How’s your fancy man?” Eloise asks, bumping you with her shoulder and winking.

“Meh,” you shrug noncommittally, unwilling to confess that you dumped him the morning after Benedict texted. “How’s the Bridgerton clan?”

Eloise pulls a face. “Colin and Pen are fucking too loudly. Hy had a new hobby, taxidermy. Yeah exactly. Greg is now into karate. Oh, and a friend is trying to put the moves on Ben. You know, the usual family ridiculousness…”

“Yeah?” You try to hide your acerbic reaction; part of you is desperate to know more, but another part never wants to hear anything about any woman he may be with.

“Yeah, she’s a baker.” Eloise continues, kicking a stone into the gutter. “She makes 3,000 trifles a week…”

“We’re in!!” Kate yells triumphantly as the bouncer unhooks the velvet rope in front of you.

“But Ben doesn’t even like custard….” you mutter, frowning, as unseen by you, all the girls exchange knowing looks before piling into the club.

—

“Eloise’s friend still hitting on you?” Colin leans in, smirking.

Anthony’s stag do is a paintballing weekend. Colin had lobbied hard for a sleazy weekend in Vilnius, but Anthony had baulked, far too scared of Kate’s reaction to that idea. So here they all are, being rained on and sitting in a muddy ditch somewhere in Berkshire.

“I don't know the polite way to say fuck off,” Benedict professes, screwing one eye shut to stare down the barrel of the rifle.

“Why not have some casual fun?” Colin shrugs, reloading his paintball gun.

“Because when I asked her what she was doing when Boris resigned, she said, ‘Oh, I don't know, was he your assistant or something?’” he deadpans, with a terrible impression, unable to hide his disgust at her ignorance.

“No!” Colin guffaws, disbelieving.

“Exactly…” Benedict retorts, but it morphs into a pained yelp as a paintball smacks heavily into his chest.

“You’re dead motherfucker!!!!” Anthony yells, materialising from nowhere, a Rambo-style headband and vest in place, camouflage streaked across his face, seemingly having the time of his life. He ducks and sprints away before anyone can retaliate.

“Aren't we on the same team?” Colin scowls wearily, watching his retreating figure darting between the trees.

“Yeah….” Benedict sighs, staring at the bright pink splotch and already feeling a bruise blooming on his sternum.

Just bloody great…

—

The wedding day. Kate looks beautiful. Aubrey Hall looks beautiful. The weather is beautiful—a crisp autumnal day with the trees at peak colour all over the grounds, golds and fiery reds glowing in the sunshine. It’s all too much, frankly.

Then, to top it all off, Benedict walks in wearing his custom-fitted best man’s outfit, and you almost trip over your damn feet, even standing entirely still. You haven’t seen him in person since that awkward dinner, and you quickly duck behind a pillar before he can spot you as he takes his place in the processional. It’s only when you reach the doorway that you realise he’ll be standing right next to Ant as you walk up the aisle alone.

I need wine… lots of wine…

His eyes bore into you as you take the slow, silly shuffle that you are required to. A weight on your being that seems to slice through right you, and the claret red silk you wear. You feel you deserve a medal when you make it without stumbling on your heels. You shake your shoulders fractionally as you take your place facing him, a frisson in your spine that feels dangerous.

‘You look beautiful,’ he seems to mouth as the bridal procession pipes up while everyone else’s attention cuts to the doorway. And fuck do you wish he were either a thousand miles away or less than an inch from you, his breath ghosting warm over your skin….

—

The reception is in full swing, the band playing and people dancing when a familiar scent that makes your heart leap fills your nostrils.

“Hi…” it's soft, almost hesitant, as he pulls up beside you.

“Hello…” you try to modulate to casual, but it probably comes off as mildly haughty.

“Beautiful ceremony,” he offers, both of your eyes tracking Kate and Anthony as they dance, blissfully absorbed in each other, radiating joy.

“It was,” you concur politely.

A waiter materialises with a tray of canapes, and you take one, but you don't eat it; just spin the skewer in your hand. Something to fiddle with to deal with the discomfort.

God, I miss the way we used to be…

“How have you been?” you ask a little stiffly.

“Fine,” he offers, and you can tell from a mere sideways glance that he’s lying.

“Why can’t we get past this? This awkwardness. Are we going to carry this around forever??” you blurt out. It's exasperation, not words you have thought carefully about, just a knee-jerk response to your own frustration about how weird things are compared to how they used to be.

“Forever?! It just happened!” he exclaims, his hands gesturing in frustration.

Seeing that you are drawing the attention of people nearby, you spin around and walk out of the room. If this is all going to come out now, which apparently your brain has decided it will, you prefer it not to be witnessed by friends and family. Or be a talking point at your best friend's wedding.

“It happened five weeks ago!” you argue over your shoulder as you stalk down a narrow hallway beyond where the guests are mingling. You know that is not a long time in the grand scheme of things, but feeling the need to argue your corner.

“Yeah, well, you must live in dog years cos it sure as fuck didn't take you very long to find someone else. Obviously, it meant nothing to you,” he spits out, a world of hurt behind the spite in his tone.

You stop dead and spin around, an ache in your chest that is pure indignance mixed with self-hatred for how right he is. He can always hit the bullseye every bloody time when it comes to knowing you better than you know yourself. That fling was a classic rebound, an outlet for your frustrations. Moreover, a distraction from letting yourself spiral about how petrified you are that things will never be the same between you and Benedict and how you feel utterly powerless to fix it, even if you can never bring yourself to regret it. It was too spectacular for that.

“Meant nothing to me?!” you hiss, having to temper your urge to scream. “Really?! You are the one who left! That very next morning, you couldn't wait to get out of there. Who the fuck has a breakfast meeting about art? You are such a liar and a coward!”’ you raise your voice, all your emotions about it finally bubbling over.

“I didn't walk out!” he argues, frowning.

“No, sprinted is more like it!” you bite back bitterly, then turn your heel again, furiously tossing your untouched canape into the first rubbish bin you see.

You flounce down a stone staircase at the back of Aubrey Hall, his footsteps loud behind you, ending up in the kitchens, bustling with catering people.

“We both agreed it was a mistake!” he points out angrily.

“Worst mistake I ever made!” you hurl at him, uncaring of the catering staff around you, watching you both as if a soap opera, eyes pinging back and forth like it's a damn tennis match.

“What do you want from me?” he asks, holding his hands up.

“I don't want anything from you!” you lie, wanting to throw yourself at him. He looks so good in his crisp, tailed suit that it takes every effort not to.

“Let's clear something up,” he starts, jabbing his finger pointedly at the ground to his side. “I did not come over that night to make love to you. That is not why I came over. I came over to look after a friend, you asked me to. But you came onto me, and it took every ounce of my being to say no. You were drunk and emotional; I couldn't take advantage like that. But then, when you sobered up, you looked at me with those big, soft eyes and kissed me. And for fucks sake. What was I supposed to do?! I am only human…” you are transfixed by the vein pulsing in his neck and hate yourself for just how aroused you are by it, by this, by this argument, this fire between you.

“What are you saying?!? That I was a pity fuck?!”

You know full well that is not what he's saying at all, but you just can’t help but poke the proverbial beast. Wanting to goad him into something. Ideally, kissing you senseless.

“There you are!!!”

You both turn around to see Anthony in the doorway, well, more accurately, leaning heavily on the doorframe, apparently quite tipsy. You have no idea how much he may have overheard. “I've been looking all over for you shits. Kate is mad you disappeared. Sent me off to find you. Ooh, I did it. I’ll get an excellent husband gold star, won't I?” he perks with a triumphant arm raise, and you realise he's probably had a lot of champagne and no food.

Both you and Benedict exchange looks, knowing your window of opportunity to hash this out just slammed shut.

Benedict wraps an arm around his sibling’s shoulder. “Come on then, brother. Can't keep the bride waiting. Let's go,” he accommodates, steering them towards the steps with a glance back at you that is weighted.

You trail behind as they walk back to the reception, lingering so you are not drawn into any conversation. By the time you enter the room, Anthony is back at Kate’s side as she is making a toast to the crowd. Benedict is still hovering near the door off to the side, almost as if waiting for you.

“Everybody, I'd like to make a toast to our maid of honour and best man. To y/n and Benedict,” she raises her glass towards you, and everyone turns to see you both standing awkwardly about six feet apart. “If Anthony or I found either one of them remotely attractive, we would not be here today. So thank you!”

The crowd laughs along good-naturedly, and all raise their glasses to you. Kate tilts her head sideways with that beautiful but shit-eating grin she uses when stirring up trouble before taking a swig, staring at you challengingly. Almost as if she can read exactly what has just transpired, or maybe Anthony told her something of what he saw. Either way, You can feel Benedict's eyes on you as you attempt bemusement at her toast and nod with a brittle smile.

Just fucking great…

Benedict taglist: @makaylan @foreverlonginguniverse @iboopedyournose @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @margofiore @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @nikaprincessofkattegat @baebee35 @crowleysqueenofhell @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @angels17324 @broooookiecrisp @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @eleanor-bradstreet @divaanya @musicismyoxygen84 @benedictspaintbrush @miindfucked @sorryallonsy @cayt0123 @hottytoddyhistory @truly-dionysus @fictionalmenloversblog @zinzysstuff @malpalgalz @panhoeofmanyfandoms @kinokomoonshine @causeimissu @delehosies @m-rae23 @last-sheep @kmc1989 @desert-fern @starkeylover @corpseoftrees-queen @magical-spit @bunnyweasley23 @how-many-stars-in-the-sky @amygdtjhddzvb @sya-skies

#benedict bridgerton fanfiction #benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton fluff #benedict bridgerton angst #benedict bridgerton imagine #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton #bridgerton angst #bridgerton fluff #bridgerton imagine #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton x female reader #benedict bridgerton x you #benedict bridgerton x y/n #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton x female reader #bridgerton x you #bridgerton x y/n #it had to be you fic

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bidaubadeadieu · 1 month ago

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Photos of Hugh Hayden's Exhibition Home Work, as seen at the Rose Art Museum (Brandeis University), 2024. Throughout this post, text present in the gallery (written by museum curators, not me) is intended in block quotes.

Through his prodigious studio practice, Hugh Hayden (b. 1983, Dallas, TX) has become one of the leading artists of his generation. His meticulously crafted sculptures, hybrid forms, and poignant installations evoke profound reflections on the human condition within a complex, volatile, and often threatening world. hayden combines a probing analysis of serious and often painful topics with humor, visual puns, and wordplay, provoking a unique blend of visceral and critical responses.

I was captivated by Hayden's work from the moment I stepped into the gallery. Really stunning stuff. Names of all pieces in this post (left to right, top to bottom), as well as excerpts from gallery text, can be found below the Read More. I highly encourage you to check it out in more detail!

American Gothic (2024)

Hayden merges two skeletal figures with agricultural and domestic tools, examining aspects pertaining to labor and the dignity of work. The artist deliberately positions himself as part of a genealogy of American artists, referencing Grant Wood's 1930 painting American Gothic and Gordon Parks's 1942 photograph, American Gothic.

Eden (2022)

Eden presents two ribcages locked together in an intimate embrace. Hanging on a clothes rack, the ribcages are meticulously crafted from cedar wood, a material often used where clothes are stored to repel moths. The fact that the skeletal lovers are closeted suggests that this embrace needs to be kept a secret. The title references the bliss associated with the biblical Garden of Eden.

Hangers (2018)

High Cotton (2015-2020)

High Cotton, emulating and arcade claw machine, is clad in lustrous, Chippendale-inspired Honduran mahogany, carved to the recall the eighteenth- and nineteenth-century furnishings of high society. Sharp-edged cotton balls (replacing the game's expected toys) force a player to "pick cotton," a task directly associated with slavery. The work highlights the raw material used to produce the fine cotton clothing found around the world--and once neatly folded inside the mahogany armoires of slave owners.

Fairy Tale (2023)

Fairy Tale features a pair of interlocking Tiffany rings, with HIV-prevention medication replacing the expected diamonds or gems. The title suggests a "happily-ever-after" gay love story for those who once lived in the shadow of AIDS. The word "fairy" in the title, sometimes used as a slur, is here reclaimed with pride.

The Kiss (2020)

In The Kiss, two football helmets are caught together like stags whose horns are locked in battle. Their interlocking forms and the title of the piece suggest a range of relationships, from homosocial camaraderie to same-sex intimacy. Many of Hayden's sports-related sculptures expose the fact that the very devices supposed to protect may also wound. The Kiss recalls the high number of brain injuries suffered by football players.

Positives (2019-2024)

Hedges (2019)

This installation features a model of an archetypal suburban home. Rather than associating the domestic with security, Hayden transforms the familiar abode into an unsettling place where menacing branches sprout from and overpower the structure's walls, window, and roof. Hedges is experienced within a mirrored chamber that situates the viewer amid an endless row of uncanny houses. Hayden often notes that home ownership is considered one of the key goals of achieving the American dream. Yet this path is hardly assured for many people, given the inequities in society and the financial precarity that so many endure. As shown here and throughout the exhibition, Hayden's visceral sculptures reveal the disquieting contradictions of the American dream.

#contemporary art #art museum trip!#sculpture #Black American art #waltham #brandeis #hugh hayden

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sahmandbean · 7 months ago

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Inherited Manor Challenge 2024 - A Sims 4 Gameplay and Build Mode Challenge For Only The Most Ambitious

You come from a long line of Occult Sims. Vampires, Mermaids, Werewolves, Spellcasters; all were welcome in your home (and present in your bloodline). You are, naturally, the rebel of the family and preferred the company of Sims and more modern amenities. After high school you decided to rid yourself of your occult ties and moved away from the family manor. This process reset your skills and you lost a few memories, but it was worth it to live the normal Sim life you had been dreaming of. Within a month you hear there was a terrible accident back home and your parents' lives were lost. Your father hadn't written you out of the will as you had expected, so you pack a bag to temporarily move home and decide what to do with the manor. You figure you'll sell it to your Spellcaster cousin. She's been a bit of a hot head, but always dreamed of a big house, and not getting along as kids is no reason to not act like adults. But, wait, why is there a hedge around the property? Why can't you get through it? Why does it smell like smoke? Your cousin and her husband, furious that you were set up to inherit the property, have set a curse on it and destroyed the home in the process. You have two choices: walk away and let them deal with the aftermath they created, or turn back to the lifestyle of your ancestors and reclaim what's yours. Are the suburbs really worth letting her win this way?

Warning: this challenge involves heavy fire damage. Please play responsibly.

The Goal

Fix up each room in order, meeting all of the requirements. Each room will have a required occult, some required items, and an overall monetary value to hit. You can check the Simoleon value of a room by selecting the room in build mode, then saving it to your library. It will show the cost of the room. Once you have completed a room, you can move on to the next one. Exact requirements, "hard mode" optional gameplay, and some FAQs will follow the rules.

The Setup

First, you have to determine if you are playing with the save file or the gallery upload. If you are playing on PC and have Vampires, Island Living, Werewolves, Realm of Magic, and Paranormal, you can use the save file. However, if you do not play on PC or don't have one of the required packs, you will have to use the gallery version. Missing even one pack will cause the damage on the lot to reset, which kind of defeats the challenge.

Here is a video I made that shows how to get started in the challenge and answers some frequently asked questions.

Save File Setup: 1 - Download the file here: http://www.simfileshare.net/download/4612595/ 2 - Place the save file in your save folder. If you followed a standard install procedure when you got the game (you would know if you didn't) you should find the save folder following this path: This PC > Documents > Electronic Arts > The Sims 4 > Saves. Make sure the save file does not share a name with any other save already in your game before saving to avoid accidentally overwriting an existing save in your game. That would really suck. 3 - Open your game 4 - Click "Load Game" (not "Resume") and select the file named "Inherited Manor Challenge 2024" 5 - If you have Seasons installed, you will have to select a season. Next, load into the Vampires world "Forgotten Hollow". The manor will be at the top of the map by the graveyard. We kicked Vlad out lol. 6 - Move a new Sim into the lot. The Sim must be a single non-occult young adult with no skills or bonus traits. You can set the aspiration, traits, likes, dislikes, gender, etc to whatever you want. You can create a Sim or use one from the gallery. 7 - Use the "freerealestate on" cheat to move your Sim into the Manor. On PC press ctrl+shift+c, on Mac press cmd+shift+c, and on console press all four trigger buttons to open the cheat bar, then type "freerealestate on". You should see a confirmation message. You can now move your Sim into the manor. 8 - Set your household funds to zero. Type "money 0" into the cheat bar. Lock the back door in the kitchen if the lock setting didn't stick. 9 - You can use whatever life span, neighborhood stories, season length, or other gameplay settings you want. I do recommend turning off the dust system if you own Bust the Dust as it becomes a hinderance to gameplay as it accumulates in the rooms you can't access.

Gallery Download Setup: edit: after posting all of this the gallery upload was giving me a ton of issues, so unfortunately I had to remove many of the photos for it to work, just so you're aware. 1 - Open an existing save file or create a new one 2 - Chose any lot that is at least 40x30. The manor was built on Vlad's lot in Forgotten Hollow but if you don't have that world, or don't like it, you can play elsewhere. 3 - Download and place the manor from the gallery. My Gallery ID is sahmandbean and the Lot Title is IMC 2024. 4 - Exit the lot to the map view and proceed from step 6 above.

The Rules

To enter the Manor, you must become a Vampire. Each section has a designated occult. You will begin by transforming your Sim into a Vampire, completing the rooms in order in the Vampire section of the Manor, then reverting back to a normal Sim before transitioning into a Mermaid to fulfill the requirements of the next section of the house, and the same with Werewolf and Spellcaster. (If at any point you don't own the necessary pack for that occult type, just skip to the next occult or stay in your current occult. For example, if you don't have Vampires, you must become a Mermaid to enter the manor, and if you don't have Werewolves you must complete the second floor as a Mermaid or Spellcaster, but not a normal Sim.) Once you have completed your transformation into the designated occult, you may go into build mode and remove the cursed hedge blocking your way.

As you enter each new room, make sure you clean it, replace or remove all of the burned items, and fulfill the requirements listed below. There are maps as well, which will hopefully help. If at any point you have questions or feel stuck, join this discord server to ask and get help from myself and the other challenge players in the community. Standard rules let you live in the full area designated to the occult, but you have to work on one room at a time. For example, as soon as you are a mermaid you can use the pool, but you cannot clean the yard up until after you have completed the other rooms in the area in the order listed below. Hard mode, however... Well, more about that after the normal rules.

Also, if at any point you get stuck and decide to use a cheat to transform your Sim in or out of an Occult life state, it will cost you. First transformation will be $10,000, then the second is $25,000, and it will double from there. Use a calculator and "money [amount]" to settle the balance.

You may not at any point sell anything from an area you are not working on for money, or any of the landscaping. You can rework the landscaping after you have completed the Manor but you can't use it as a get rich quick scheme.

Here are the room requirements. Remember, these are just minimums. You can add a bathtub and bed to the entryway if you want, for example, so your Sim can maintain some needs, but if you are not going to leave them there make sure you remove them before calculating the total value of the room. Also if at any point an item in a completed room is broken or lost, whether to the repo man or a fire or some other reason, it must be replaced or repaired before continuing with whatever room you were working on.

As a Vampire Entryway: Simoleons: $25,000 Items: Two Knight of the Octagon Table statues, living chair, rug, accent table, and two wall decorations Coat Closet: Simoleons: $5000 Items: sofa or loveseat; two “coat closet” like items, like coat racks, umbrellas, or shoes Office: Simoleons: $15,000 Items: desk, Seance Table with two or more chairs, bookshelf, computer, rug Hallway: Simoleons: $10,000 Items: four pieces of wall art, rug Big bathroom: Simoleons: $5000 Items: bath or shower, two sinks, toilet, two mirrors, toilet paper Kitchen: Simoleons: $25,000 Items: six counters, fridge, stove, sink, dining table, four dining chairs, trash can, bowl of fruit Cupcake Room: Simoleons: $10,000 Items: cupcake factory, kitchen appliance Dining Room and Vestibule: Simoleons: $20,000 Items: dining table, six dining chairs, hutch, and keep the big painting in the dining room; living chair and lamp in the vestibule

As a Mermaid Bar: Simoleons: $20,000 Items: bar, seating for six, clock Half Bath: Simoleons: $2000 Items: toilet, sink, mirror, and toilet paper Ballroom: Simoleons: $30,000 Items: stereo, piano or pipe organ, fireplace, mirror, a table that can hold food in the event of a party Yard and Shed: Items: keep the pool; four planters, woodworking table, fountain, wedding arch, grill, telescope, seating for 10, and monkey bars

As a Werewolf Landing: Simoleons: $10,000 Items: couch, chess table Art Gallery: Simoleons: $35,000 Items: seating for four, rug, six pieces created by your sim, twelve pieces of art overall Purple Bedroom: Simoleons: $40,000 Items: bed space for two, rug, fireplace, two skill and/or activity items in the bedroom; dresser and chair in each closet; two sinks, toilet, toilet paper, and bath or shower in the bathroom Blue Bedroom: Simoleons: $20,000 Items: bed space for two, one skill or activity item, rug, and one dresser in the bedroom; toilet, sink, mirror, bath or shower, and toilet paper in the bathroom Pink Bedroom: Simoleons: $20,000 Items: bed space for two, rug, one skill or activity item, and one dresser in the bedroom; toilet, sink, mirror, bath or shower, and toilet paper in the bathroom Hall Bathroom: Simoleons: $3000 Items: bench, toilet, sink

As a Spellcaster Yellow Bedroom: Simoleons: $30,000 Items: bed space for two, rug, one skill or activity item, and one dresser in the bedroom; toilet, sink, mirror, bath or shower, and toilet paper in the bathroom Green Bedroom: Simoleons: $30,000 Items: bed space for two, rug, one skill or activity item, and one dresser in the bedroom; toilet, sink, mirror, bath or shower, and toilet paper in the bathroom Hall and Bathroom: Simoleons: $5000 Items: toilet, sink, mirror, toilet paper, six lights, rug Black Bedroom: Simoleons: $30,000 Items: bed space for two, rug, one skill or activity item, and one dresser in the bedroom; toilet, sink, mirror, bath or shower, and toilet paper in the bathroom Red Bedroom and tower: Simoleons: $50,000 Items: double bed, bar, desk, rug, dresser, fireplace, couch, bookshelf, and armchair in the bedroom; dresser, mirror, chair, and shoe rack in the closet; two sinks, two mirrors, tub, shower, toilet, and toilet paper in the bathroom

Hard Mode Optional Start Rules - Start as a teen (no skills, occult, etc) instead of a young adult and balance High School on top of the manor. - Stay exclusively in the current room. Use more magical hedges if necessary. - There are photos of the pre-destroyed manor scattered about. Identify and replace the exact items in each photo. Some of them are locked behind careers, so it is up to you exactly how hard you want to make that on yourself. "Buying" the item off the gallery is acceptable. - Turn on all lot challenges and remove them randomly as you complete rooms. - Double Simoleon requirements for each room. If you have Get to Work, you must marry and have at least one child with an Alien. - Throw a gold dinner party after completing each individual occult phase before transforming back into a regular Sim. - Max out each occult skill tree.

The end goal of this challenge is for you to have fun! Mix and match the rules a little if you feel stuck, marry Father Winter, have a relative named Rosebud conveniently leave you a small inheritance...

FAQ

If you have a question not answered here, please join the discord and ask in the designated Inherited Manor 2024 channels.

How to I become a...? And how do I turn back into a normal Sim? To become a Vampire, become good friends with a Vampire and ask to be turned. The process takes a few days so be prepared to live at the gym for a bit. The cure can be crafted after reaching Level 15 Vampire Lore skill and gathering the necessary ingredients. To become a Mermaid, eat one Mermadic Kelp. To transform back into a regular Sim, eat two in a row. The kelp can be found diving, fishing, gifted by a dolphin, or purchased with reward points. To become a Werewolf, as a Werewolf to turn you (similar to the Vampire). The cure can be crafted after finding the recipe in "An Insider's Guide to Being a Werewolf", a book found in the underground tunnels. To become a Spellcaster, travel to The Magic Realm and talk to a Sage. They will give you a mini quest. This is by far the easiest one.

Can I get married? Yes, but your spouse (regardless if an occult Sim or not) can only access the areas you have already unlocked. Your spouse must live on the lot with you until death or divorce, and the kids cannot be moved out until they are teens. Your main Sim is the one that counts as far as transformations and unlocking areas goes.

What happens if my Sim dies? Find or create a fresh Sim and pick up where you left off. This can include a spouse or child.

Can I change the room requirements? Can I put a bedroom instead of an office? You can change whatever you want after the challenge is completed, but the required items must be present in the room to count it as done. You can add additional items if you want, of course, but not completely alter the function of the room.

Can I sell stuff in the house already for money if it isn't damaged? You can sell or replace whatever is in the current room. You can't sell a chair from the office to get money for the kitchen, etc. Remember to keep any items specified in the rules above.

How do I know what my save file name is? Each save file follows the same format: the word “save” followed by a period and eight numbers. For example, save.12345678. Make sure those numbers don’t match the numbers of the save file when you download it. If they do match, you can change a number in the challenge save file before you save it, so long as it is still follows the naming convention laid out above.

Your save file is broken! It loaded me into a household! It's not even the right lot/world/etc! If you're not on the right lot, sounds like you answered your own question. Go to the map view and click on Forgotten Hollow, and maybe read the setup instructions again.

Can I change the lifespan, season length, weather, holiday, etc etc? Yup! Change whatever you want so long as it isn't prohibited in the rules.

What counts as a piece of art my Sim made for the galery? Any project that can be started, stopped, and resumed, and/or your Sim is directly involved in the end quality of the item. This includes, but is not limited to, knit objects, paintings, books, woodworking objects, scientist career objects, and photographs. This does not include found items, such as posters or snow globes.

Do I have to hit the Simoleon requirement exactly? That is too much math, even for me. So long as you are at or over, you're good.

Can I add some lot traits or challenges? Absolutely. Remember, though, that you can't build outside your current zone. You can't add solar panels to the yard, for example, until you get to that point as a Mermaid, but you can set your lot to "Off The Grid" whenever.

Can I purchase traits from the reward store? Yes. You just can't have your Sim start with any reward traits or points.

Are there more challenges like this? Yes! This is actually the fourth version of this challenge. You can find more information here on tumblr, or by visiting my website here.

Can I make one of these, or help make the next one? Absolutely! The official Inherited Manor Discord will be the best place to keep up to date on the challenge. I only ping everyone at the start of building the challenge for the year and when it is released, so don't worry about me blowing up your phone. Can't wait to connect with you there!

Huge thanks to chat for all their help during the streams, and a special thanks to my playtesters: Alasmina debs Foxbird kittycatxo miraclesnjoy SRSimmer Tessa Who?

#sims 4 #sims 4 build #sims 4 challenge #inherited manor challenge #sims4 #architecture #pc games #gaming #the sims 4 #sims challenge

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loge2718 · 3 months ago

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Guilty as Sin? 💙

Thrawn x Reader - A song fic!

Song: Guilty as Sin? - Taylor Swift

Summary: Moving to Lothal for a promising job that was given by the Empire was a bold move for you. Here in Lothal, you felt lonely. Until a certain Grand Admiral came into the picture. You wanted something more than casual. But, does he want it to?

Tags & Warnings: No smut, just mentions of sex, slight angst at the end

A/N: I didn’t specify the reader’s gender here but, since this is purely a self-indulgence fanfiction and the art that I made for is also purely self-indulging, I imagined the reader here is female.

Word count: 1.6K

Y'all... I have not written any (fan)fiction in such a long time, so, apologies in advance... I'd be posting the video and the art that I made for this fic in a different post, in case you don't like the fanfic and just would like to reblog the art you can find it here (X)

Out of all the people in this planet, out of all the people in this outer-rim, out of all the people in this galaxy. You are in a situationship with him.

That ran through your thought as he traced his finger around your upper thigh. It feels like he was writing something, that you were not so sure. Perhaps something in his language?

What if he's written 'mine' on my upper thigh Only in my mind?

He is, of course, the alien that rose through the ranks of the Imperial Navy like it was nothing. The Grand Admiral. Mitth'raw'nuruodo from the Unknown Region. Or as he lay beside you, cuddling you in a desperate embrace… Just Thrawn. You wish you could stay in this moment forever, this will be the death of you.

One slip and falling back into the hedge maze Oh what a way to die

-💙💙💙-

Thrawn, the man you met in an art gallery here at Lothal. You arrived at Lothal just a few months prior, still adapting to your new job, new surroundings. Your family and friends are all the way in the mid-rim. You moved here because the Empire promised you a better paying job. However, with that decision, it left you stranded in Lothal, alone. In a way, you both are similar.

There you were sitting in front of a painting by a local artist hundreds of years ago. So focused on the painting, taking in every detail. Subconsciously, you started to zoned out with everything that was going on with your mind.

Moving away… Moving away has been difficult for you, you were born and raised in your homeplanet, you even got your full education there. The empire promised you a decent job with a good amount of money, but the catch was, the job was located in the outer-rim in a planet called Lothal. So far, the promise has been kept. Though, it did not hide the fact that you were lonely, very lonely.

"Do you like the painting?"

A smooth voice snapped you out of your trance. Yes. You did like the painting, it is relatable, you said. However, you continued, describing the one of the paintings that you were fond of from your home world. The one you often visit in the gallery, with family, friends and even ex-lovers.

"Interesting take" He said

"How about you, what do you think about it?"

And with that, one thing led to the other. First, it was just a simple introduction, Thrawn, he introduced himself and so did you. Then, the conversation went on for hours, and a couple different places… One of them was your newly owned bed. To say that he was amazing in bed was an understatement.

He understood you. He understood your body, he listened to your body. His touch felt like a warm fireplace on a cold winter night. His kiss felt like Heaven for the longing sinners. Each movement of his felt like waves crashing in the sea, bringing you closer and closer to shore.

You felt like this could be a start of something, or just a one night stand. Nevertheless, that was an experience, a really good one indeed. Even so, you didn't know who he was. He was just another man you brought home that night. That being said, Thrawn. his name still echoed in your mind on some sleepless nights.

A few days later, at the grand opening of the Empire-owned factory where you were assigned as a project manager, he was there, accompanied by the Governor of Lothal. He was in his stunning white navy uniform. Ah so he works for the Imperial Navy, you contemplated. His uniform was also complemented with gold shoulder plates and… a Grand Admiral plaque. A Grand Admiral, you thought to yourself. Unbelievable, You have managed to sleep with him. One of the strongest, most influential and most adored people in the empire.

You must be… His voice came to a blur as he greeted you and introduced himself and you . That would not be the first time. Grand Admiral, it is nice to be acquainted with you, you replied. The days went on as usual, your higher up was luckily busy that day, so you were the one who was assigned to give the Grand Admiral a tour.

You were relieved at first, thinking that he would break the facade. However, that seems to be false. His voice stayed cold to you. He was really cold to you. As if you didn’t moan his name over and over a few nights ago. His demeanor was that of a stranger, even when you two were alone touring the freshly built factory. You understand that it is protocol, but it was torture. Before you knew it he departed, you thought that would be the last time you would ever see him.

Until it was not.

Not long after you arrived home you were surprised with your doorbell ringing. Strange, you thought. You were not expecting a visitor nor are you familiar with your neighbors yet. One look at the door feed got you sprinting to your front door. There stood Thrawn. He stepped in, and without saying a word he passionately took your lips in a deep kiss.

As the both of you broke the kiss, Nice to see you again… you said with a hint of sarcasm, but alas smiling. Then, he took your lips again. After all that, he carried you to bed. Surely the second time with him would not be as mind blowing as the first? No. You were wrong. It was, as a matter of fact, better.

"Thrawn, I thought I'll never see you again, especially after today…" you said while you were laying on his chest.

He disagreed. He said he would love to continue seeing you, being with you. This arrangement was of course with an exception. Nobody else has to know that we are intimate. he emphasized. That statement was not a surprise for you. That's easy enough, a price to pay being in bed with the notable Grand Admiral. you thought.

I keep recalling things we never did

You reach for his lips in response and agreement to his words. You were right, this one night stand did turn into a friend with benefits type of situation. But did you really want that? Or did you hope for something more?

Messy top lip kiss

A month or two have passed since you two made that agreement. Other than your apartment, he had brought you to a few different places. Lothal's only 5-star hotel was one of them, the cabin he owns in the far corner of Lothal was the other and even his personal Lambda shuttle. This little meetup of yours got you excited every time you saw his flagship - the Chimaera above the capital. His ISD in the sky of Lothal meant that he would be meeting you soon.

How I long for our trysts

As it was your day off, your neighbors, the one you got close with, started to be suspicious and started to question you. Who is the Pantoran you kept seeing? She asked. Nobody, he is just a friend. You answered immediately.

A friend would not have gifted you flowers. A friend would not kiss your forehead and lips before he left. A friend would not have fucked you so perfectly, so intimately. He would not have cared for you so gently too after sex. Yes. Just a friend. You repeated, reassuring yourself. You really wanted something more, did you?

Without ever touching his skin How can I be guilty as sin?

Later on that afternoon, as the Chimaera looms over the capital. He came to visit you. This time was different, this time he brought you flowers, not just any flowers that he often gave you. These were the flowers native to your homeplanet. He explained he had some work to do there, and might as well give these flowers to you, since he knows that they are dear to you. Thank you, Thrawn. you said as tears were forming in your eyes. You quickly ran inside and put them in a vase before jumping in Thrawn’s speeder.

Then, as per usual, he took you out for dinner first, continued by walking you to his hotel suite that he rented for the night. That was before everything snowballed into the unholy amount of things you both did in that hotel room.

He sent me 'Downtown Lights' I hadn't heard it in a while

Out of all of the people in this entire universe, you are with him. Laying in bed with him, receiving tender kisses throughout your delicate body. His finger tracing every inch of your skin. Stay the night with me, Thrawn. You begged. He murmured something that wasn't basic. You did not understand him at all, but his body language said it all.

He could not stay.

He pulled you closer and murmured something else, kissed you on the forehead. Your peace was disturbed by a chime from his comm. The chime turns out to be an emergency call. Earlier to that he thought he could stay with you for at least another hour. However, that plan was cut short. He got up, tidied himself and in a blink of an eye, he is gone yet again.

Your thoughts came rushing through your head like a gust of wind, as tears started forming in your eyes. Could we ever be more than this? You sobbed softly to the empty room. From the kisses he gave you, to all the good times you both had, to flowers he gave you from your homeplanet.

Could Thrawn and you be more than this?

Am I allowed to cry?

#thrawn x reader #thrawn x you #star wars #star wars rebels #star wars x reader #thrawn #mitth'raw'nuruodo #grand admiral thrawn #thrawn fanfiction #thrawn fanart #loge2718 writes #loge2718 art

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