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astayinwonderland · 7 months

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Silk and Fire - Chapter 1

Read more about the series and find updates here (;

pairing: namjoon x f.reader x jungkook

guest starring: jin, yoongi, hoseok

genre: romance | drama | smut +18 MDNI

summary: it's your best friend's engagement party and you agree to meet everyone at the venue. however, you end up running late and in danger. fortunately, someone's there to offer a helping hand... or hands.

status: ongoing

warnings: mentions of anxiety

wc: 1.7k words

a/n: this is pure ✨fiction✨

do not copy or translate

“Babe, you’ll look amazing no matter what you wear,” Namjoon puts his book down to look at you. “I love that dress on you,” he smiles, dimples showing.

“You’ve said the same thing about the last six outfits I’ve tried on,” you laugh.

“I am just being honest”.

Namjoon leaves his comfy reading chair and walks over to your figure. You stand in front of the mirror and stand on your tippy toes mimicking how you would look in heels. Strong arms hug you from behind, and he buries his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent. Namjoon has been quite busy with work lately and in moments like this he wishes he could whisk you away and take you somewhere secluded, nice, romantic, where only the two of you existed. But alas, this wasn’t that day.

In a couple of hours, you two would be at your best friend’s engagement party, who would have thought she would be the marrying kind after all? Everyone would be there, including the one friend you have never met in person. You are quite excited to meet him finally, he has been travelling around the world for the past year, and in your eight months of dating Namjoon, all the group of friends can talk about is how much they miss their group of 7.

“You smell so good, you always do,” Namjoon whispers and plants a kiss on your soft skin.

You run your fingers through his hair in an attempt to make time go still, but your eyes catch the clock by your nightstand and you jump.

“Fuck, Joon! Look at the time. I have to go to the salon, the dry cleaners, go get my shoes…”

Namjoon laughs at the way you rush around your shared house, he asked you to move in while you celebrated your 7th month together. The question came abruptly out of his mouth, but it felt right. He knew you were very special from the moment he laid eyes on you. Your looks are breathtaking for sure, but Namjoon felt an intense attraction to you because of your energy and intellect. You are sharp and smart, in a very different way than he is, and that makes him head over heels for you.

“Alright, alright… Sure you don’t want me to pick you up and get there together?”

“The salon is right across the venue, I’ll walk there once I’m done. Don’t worry, love,” you smile at him.

You should have listened to your boyfriend. You should have. Honestly, at least if he were here, you would not feel this stress. It is 7:30 p.m., and you should already be at the venue calming your best friend’s nerves. You are the maid of honour after all. But things went south from the moment the dry cleaners didn’t have your dress ready and you were far behind with your hair.

“Please just do whatever… the easiest thing. Anything! I really need to go,” you beg at the stylist, and even though she does try, your anxiety isn’t going anywhere.

By the time you finish, it’s 8:02 p.m. Your bestie sends you text after text.

Where the fuck are you?

Are you close?

Hello!????

I’m freaking out please, are you ok?

You feel too guilty and anxious to give a full explanation so you just text her one sentence.

I’ll be there in 5.

You quickly make your way out of the salon and cross the street. The night is a bit cold and windy, your cheeks hurt a little from the cool air brushing against your face. You run in your heels praying you don’t twist your ankle. As you try to look for your lipstick in your clutch, you find yourself already a few steps away from the hotel door. The revolving door activates as you step in but it stops, leaving a small space open between the glass and the entrance.

“Fuck!” you bang on the door to try and move it, but nothing happens.

A muffled voice comes from the outside. You turn around to find a cheeky smile, lip piercing, and big doe eyes looking right into yours.

“What?” your voice is louder than usual since you can’t hear him properly.

His face now comes closer to the reduced space between the glass and the entrance.

“You need to step back.”

You try to move but it seems pointless and your anxiety peaks when it dawns on you that you may be trapped here for a long time. Your breath is heavy and your palms start to sweat. Hell, your vision is blurry. The man watches you lose it in a matter of seconds, and he would be damned if he didn’t do something about it. Somehow, his large frame squeezed through the little space left, catching you before you fell to your knees.

“Darling, if you are going to get on your knees for me it better not be like this.”

You try to focus your eyes on the man that helps you stand. Your face leaning against his crisp white shirt, makeup transferring a little bit onto it.

“Are you okay?”

And now you get a closer look. His long dark hair falls graciously on his forehead and temples, the rest of it framing his beautiful face. It is a mystery how he squeezed in with those broad shoulders and big arms. Those same arms holding you in place.

“Breathe,” he gives you a warm smile.

So you breathe and try to pull yourself together, but his hands reach your waist and pull you against him. A gasp leaves your lips.

“See?” he points at a tiny red dot near the door. “That’s a sensor, if you stand up too close you might get stuck. You just need to move a little bit–” and he pulls you even closer to him, his hips slightly gracing your body. “--back,” and that does the trick.

Finally the door moves. Just as hotel employees are coming to your rescue.

“It’s okay, I'm fine!” you yell running to the elevator.

The man calmly walks after you and watches you desperately run.

“Thank you!” you yell.

Elegance. Poise. Charm. Love.

You find yourself in a small but beautiful space where ivory and gold decorate the room and the chandeliers shimmered light delicately down to the guests. You spot your best friend and her fiancé across the room. Luckily your little meltdown didn’t completely ruin your hair, so you make your way in saying your polite ‘hellos’ and hoping she doesn’t kill you for being this late.

“You look beautiful,” you hug her.

“What the fuck happened?” you can see worry in her eyes.

“The question is, what didn’t happen? Everything went wrong today, I’ll tell you later.”

“She was about to call the police and put together a search party in order to find you.”

You look at the man who your best friend decided to marry. Min Yoongi is no ordinary man. He is respectable, admirable, handsome, and the most important thing, he is husband material and perfect for Camille. He loves her dearly, erasing past traumas and filling her with acceptance and reassurance. You couldn’t be happier for them.

“I was not going to call the police, Yoongi,” she rolls her eyes.

“Yes she was,” he gives her the fondest of smiles and kisses her temple. His PDA is rare, but when it happens it is from the heart and that makes you long for the perfect man for you.

“Where is he?” you say scanning the room, and then your eyes meet his. “Please excuse me for a minute…”

Namjoon smiles as he sees you. Black shirt neatly tucked into his gray pants. His black hair parted to the side. He makes his way to you and you to him, meeting him in a tight embrace that seems to cure all your anxiety.

“I’m glad you’re finally here,” he gives you a peck on the lips. “Missed you,”

“And I missed you too!” even though you don’t see him you know it’s Hoseok behind you. You give him a tight hug. To be honest you missed hanging with Namjoon’s friends as well. They bring a certain spark to all gatherings that is hard to match.

Namjoon gives you a quizzical look.

“The dry cleaners didn’t have the dress ready on time, then my hair appointment was delayed an hour and a half, and on top of everything I got stuck in the stupid revolving doors,”

“No way…” and the most boisterous laugh you’ve ever heard in your life comes from one of the most handsome faces you’ve seen in your life.

“It did happen, Jin,”

“If it was going to happen to someone it had to happen to you,” he sweetly kissed both of your cheeks.

“Have you seen Jungkook yet?” Hoseok asks, elegantly holding a champagne flute.

“Oh is he here yet?” you ask intrigued, excited even.

“You know he likes a big entrance,” Jin adds.

Namjoon then offers to get you a drink which you accept. You stay with Jin and Hoseok making casual conversation, but you spot your saviour in the small crowd. What is ‘revolving door guy’ doing here? You excuse yourself and make your way to him, saying hello to Camille’s family as you cross the room. His doe eyes open wide and his lips curve in a smile.

“You are here,” he says.

“Yes. Why are you here? Are you following me or something?” you whisper, confused.

“Maybe I am,” he smirks and takes a sip of his neat whiskey.

“I’m okay, no need to check on me,” you do your best to smile and reassure him you are doing just fine. “Thank you, again.”

“Okay… I won’t check on you, but I will check you out,” and there’s that cheeky smile again.

Shock.

“Excuse me?”

“There you are!” Namjoon hands you a glass of white wine and puts his hand around your waist. “Ah! I see you finally met each other.”

Your eyes go from your man to ‘revolving door guy’ and back to your man.

“Babe, this is Jeon Jungkook.”

#kpop smut #kpop fanfic #kpop series #bts fanfic #bts smut #bts scenarios #jungkook imagines #jungkook scenarios #jungkook smut #namjoon smut #namjoon imagine #namjoon scenarios #bts x reader #namjoon x reader #jungkook x reader #bts imagines #bts series #astayinwonderland

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ghostflowerhotpotch · 7 months

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You made headcanon of Gwen and Miles proposal, but how do you think the wedding will be like, I mean let's face it at that point both Gwen and Miles will be dying of nerves before they got to the altar. Also there is no doubt that Pavrit will plan the whole thing.

Oh ho ho, oh boy that would be fun. I don't have a lot of brainpower right now but let me think.

You are right, Gwen and Miles would be SO nervous, I think at first they would try to pretend not to be (to be each other's support and also because nerves or not, they DEFINITELY want to do this.) Before eventually one of them caves, and then they cuddle together while reaffirming to each other everything would be okay.

Pavitr and Rio would be working together in this, I am sure. Rio would be SO excited, and also trying to make sure to invite everyone in their lives. (There is this idea that latino families are extremely big, and that's not really the truth, like sure there are families that are big, but is also that they tend to stay connected. I had fourth degree cousins inviting me to weddings in other countries.)

In all honesty Miles and Gwen aren't that bothered letting Rio and Pavitr do a lot of the planning; mostly because planning weddings is stressing and hectic.

Pavitr would show Gwen two different tones of whites for the napkins, and Gwen would say that she doesn't notice the difference. Pavitr is in shock. (Miles doesn't have this problem, because he is an artist and you bet the guy notices the variances in tone because that type of detail is important.) (Pavitr was also in shock because his idea of an American wedding is thanks to movies, so he thinks is traditional to have lots of white and little colour. Rio mitigates this to some degree.)

Miles and Gwen joke to call the wedding off and instead elope to Las Vegas or a cruise. The reality is that they would had done it if it wasn't because their parents wouldn't had forgiven them for it.

George and Jeff are use to awkwardly standing around each other; normally try to keep the other busy by exchanging police stories. George is there for Gwen's moral support, and Jeff is there because of Rio.

Miles has a hard time deciding a best man, but despite everything, he chooses Peter because he wouldn't be the man and the spider-man he is today without him. Yes, Peter cried when he heard this.

I think Gwen would not feel is fair to choose between Peni and Margo, since I think they are all good friends; and her relationship with Jess was never the same after what happened. So she decides to throw tradition out of the window, and instead of having a maid of honour, she has Hobie as her best man. He offers to wear wedding because fuck gender roles, and he would look amazing in one anyways.

For shits and giggles, the wedding is very much spider themed. There a bunch of little spiders details everywhere you go and in the ballroom. Miles's white suit has little silver spiderweb details, while Gwen's dress has black lace on the skirt with spider-motifs too.

That's all I have for now! I may think of a things later, but like I say, brain fried lol.

#ghostflower #gwiles #ghostflower hcs #miles morales #gwen stacy #pavitr prabhakar #rio morales #atsv #across the spiderverse #I tried to edit and I hope my dyslexia wasn't messing it up too much for me

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blurredcolour · 5 months

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I Wish You Love | Part One

I Wish You Love Masterlist

Lewis Nixon x Housemaid!Female Reader

Watching Miss Isobel encourage Lieutenant Nixon's affections only to ignore his letters as soon as he's deployed proves too much for you to bear.

Warnings: Canon typical violence, Angst, Class Divide, Infidelity, Dishonesty, Discussion of War Wounds, Language, Smoking, Alcohol Consumption, Inevitable Historical and Military Inaccuracies, Mature/Explicit Themes - 18+ ONLY.

Author's Note: Reader's nationality is British and liberties have been taken in describing her background and family life for the sake of plot. No physical descriptions or y/n used. A good portion of this fic will be letter-based. This is a work of fiction based off the portrayal by the actors in the HBO series. I hold nothing but respect for the real life individuals referenced within.

Word Count: 4611

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You had met Lewis Nixon first. On a misty morning in early December 1943 when The Honourable Isobel St John’s dog, Dash III, was yet again carelessly let out of the house by the naïve kitchen maid Else. The poor girl, freshly arrived from Austria, meant well, truly. But she simply did not seem to comprehend the vastness of Lydiard Park, nor the fact that a great portion of it had become off limits, requestioned by the 101st Airborne to construct a field hospital in anticipation of the invasion of France.

Wrapping a shawl around the shoulders of your black service dress, lace collar at your throat, you had forced yourself out into the damp chill, shoes crunching on the pea gravel path as you had called out for the Cavalier King Charles Spaniel. Miss Isobel thought quite highly of herself, typical middle child syndrome if one were being quite honest, and had kept a series of Cavalier’s named after Queen Victoria’s own – though she preferred the Blenheim colouring to the original’s tri-coloured coat. Of all the staff, and humans, at Lydiard House, Dash III was most likely to respond to you and so this task was one with which you were quite familiar.

What you had not expected to find was the missing canine squirming in the arms of a handsome American Lieutenant, desperately trying to lick at his striking jawline.

“Dash!” You had cried out at the state of his filthy coat, the majority of the white streaked with mud.

“That’s your name, then, is it?” The Lieutenant had smirked, a label bearing the last name of ‘Nixon’ stitched onto his uniform above his left breast pocket.

“Dash the third, Leftenant.” You had gulped roughly at the broad grin that had unfurled across his features at your British pronunciation of his rank.

“Dash the third. I am Lewis Nixon the third, what destiny we should meet.” Nixon had addressed the filthy dog fondly, prompting him to squirm in delight, smearing all manner of muck onto his uniform.

“I am terribly sorry for the trouble, sir, please allow me.” You had moved to take Dash from Nixon, but the gentle shake of his head had halted your movements.

“Not at all, miss, I’m assuming this rogue Dash belongs up at the house?” He had raised an eyebrow and you had nodded quickly. “Allow me then, my clothes are meant to get dirty.” He had tucked the dog under his arm more securely and began walking back with you. “I take it this is not Dash’s first great escape?”

You had shaken your head quickly, biting back a laugh. “Unfortunately not, Leftenant. I truly appreciate your help returning him to us. Miss Isobel will be relieved.”

“And how about you?” Nixon had inquired with a grin.

You had looked to your feet quickly, the expression only making him transition from good looking to dangerously handsome. “Grateful, of course, sir.”

“And is that what I should call you? Grateful? Is that her name, Dash?” He had looked down to the dog beneath his arm, earning a warm tongue along his cheek in response.

A laugh had escaped your lips before you had introduced yourself properly as the pair of you neared the 18th century Palladian style home. “Please follow me to the kitchen door, Leftenant, I’ll need to give Dash a bath before he is unleashed upon the household.”

Nixon’s appearance in the servants’ hall had caused quite a stir, earning him an introduction to the family upstairs upon which Miss Isobel had immediately set her eyes on him. The Honourable Isobel St John was a complicated woman and while you were the same age, born in 1918, your experiences and perceptions of the world could not have been more different. Third child of Viscount Bolingbroke, what she lacked in social standing she more than made up for in entitlement.

While her parents, Bertrand and Elizabeth St John were disappointed in her unwed state at the age of twenty-five, four years into the war it was more common than not. And it was not for any lack of suitors on Miss Isobel’s part. A veritable parade of uniformed men had joined the family at the simpler dinner parties they now hosted, particularly with their eldest child and only son taken prisoner by the Japanese so early in the war. With eldest daughter Gwendoline busily running her own household with two children, and youngest Rosamund off with the Auxiliary Territorial Service, Lydiard House was held hostage by the whims and desires of Miss Isobel. And through the winter of 1943 into spring 1944 that had been Lieutenant Lewis Nixon.

From the glimpses you caught of him whilst serving cocktails and dinner, the lack of footmen pressing housemaids such as yourself into service in unusual roles, and the starry-eyed descriptions provided by Miss Isobel herself as you helped her dress and undress before said gatherings, it seemed Lieutenant Nixon fit in quite well at an upper-class table. Naturally his duties prevented him from visiting every weekend, but he was present more often than not, and as the weather grew warmer, he and Miss Isobel would take long walks on the grounds still available to the St John family, Dash happily accompanying them on a leash.

Lieutenant Nixon was polite and friendly, greeting you with a familiar nod when you would fetch Dash for his meal as they were lounging beside the lake, or throwing you a smile as you would hold out his preferred whiskey on a silver tray before dinner. But you by no means expected his generosity that rainy Sunday in mid-April. Having taken the majority of the day off for your father’s birthday, you had seen to it that Miss Isobel was dressed and on her way to breakfast, before changing into a once-colourful dress of your own, frowning as the skies opened up.

Pulling on your Macintosh, you tucked your small gift into the inside pocket before dashing out to the garage to fetch your bicycle, heading down the gravel drive toward the road into town when Lieutenant Nixon’s covered jeep pulled up beside you.

“Where are you going in this deluge?!” He peered out at you, and you swallowed.

“Good morning, Leftenant. Headed into Swindon to see my father. You’ll find Miss Isobel in the breakfast room, sir.”

Your eyes widened as he put the jeep in park, the door swinging open before he dashed around to open the tail gate. “Put your bike the back, I’ll drive you.”

“But sir, I…” You trailed off as the jacket of his uniform was growing darker with rain by the moment and found yourself unable to argue at the expense of his clothing.

You quickly dismounted and surrendered your bicycle, trying not to stare too intently as he easily hoisted it into the back before ushering you into the passenger’s seat on the right side of the vehicle – the positioning utterly foreign, but you quickly dashed inside, sliding off your hood as he jogged back to the driver’s side.

“This is truly unnecessary, Leftenant, it’s out of your way and will only delay you.” You pleaded with him once he was back under the canvas cover.

He gave you his lopsided grin, shaking his head, scattering some raindrops from his garrison cap. “Izzy’ll not even notice, let her enjoy her cold toast.”

You bit your lip savagely, well aware of the degree to which Miss Isobel loathed that nickname, yet she never seemed to correct him on it. Executing a smooth three-point turn, he aimed the jeep back toward the main road and began to drive to Swindon. “How long does it take you to cycle there?”

“About twenty minutes, sir. It’s a nice ride on a dry day.” You undid the buttons on your Macintosh, overheating in the garment, and slid it open to reveal your dress.

Lieutenant Nixon’s glance in your direction, and quick double-take, had you smoothing the hem of it against your knees self-consciously. “I’m sorry, you look lovely, I’m just so used to seeing you in black and white it’s like we’ve landed in Oz and you’re suddenly in Technicolor over there.”

The analogy was so striking that you were completely taken aback. Laughter bubbled up from your throat as you shook your head and belatedly covered your mouth as he grinned broadly, seeming quite pleased with himself.

“So, you grew up in Swindon?” Nixon asked over the sound of rain pelting the roof and windshield and you nodded quickly.

“Yes, sir.” You swallowed, hands planted in your lap as you tugged at your fingertips nervously.

“Izzy tells me you have a brother fighting in Italy, is that right?”

You looked to him, startled to learn that you had ever been a topic of conversation between him and Miss Isobel. “I do, sir.”

“Is he older or younger than you?” He took his eyes off the road to meet yours briefly, seeming genuinely interested in your answer.

“Johnny is twelve minutes older, sir.”

“Twins?!” His wide, brown eyes flashed back to yours and you nodded with a soft laugh.

“I don’t think I’ve met a twin before…” He murmured thoughtfully. “And what does your father do?”

Swallowing nervously, you glanced out the window a moment to carefully formulate your answer. “He picks up work at the Swindon Railway Works.” You replied, leaving out the part that he only did so when he was physically well enough. The loss of his leg on the Somme was a wound that had never fully healed and nagged him more and more as he got older.

“Do you get to see him often?” He asked, making the turn into town easily as you shook your head sadly.

“Not as often as I should – it’s his birthday today, though, so I asked to take most of the day a few months ago.”

“Well, wish him a happy birthday for me, will you?” He smiled and you nodded before guiding him through the streets to the simpler, working-class neighbourhood where the one-bedroom flat you’d grown up in was located.

Lieutenant Nixon parked the jeep in front of the building and the pair of you hurried out into the rain to retrieve your bicycle from the back. You had just finished thanking him profusely when you turned to see your father standing in the doorway on his crutches, not wearing prosthetic leg. It was no surprise, actually, in weather like this he found the thing extremely uncomfortable.

A look of understanding crossed Lieutenant Nixon’s face and he insisted on walking you to the door, offering his hand to shake your father’s.

“Happy Birthday, sir.”

Your baffled father had shaken it in return with his thanks, completely taken aback by the American Lieutenant on his doorstep.

“Thank you again, Leftenant.”

“It was my pleasure, enjoy your afternoon off.” He smiled and dashed back to the car as you ushered your father inside, explaining everything as you helped him to his chair.

Mercifully, when it came time for you to return to Lydiard House for the evening, the rain had eased up and you were able to cycle back without getting soaked to the skin. As you came up the drive, you spotted Lieutenant Nixon and Miss Isobel walking arm in arm, heads bent toward one another as Dash walked alongside. You dismounted quickly, trying to be discrete, but the dog turned as soon as he caught your scent, barking happily in greeting.

“Ah, you’re back.” Miss Isobel said flatly.

“Good Evening Miss Isobel, Leftenant Ni–“

“Oh, don’t be so British, it’s Lieutenant.” Miss Isobel cut you off, tone rather condescending as she slipped the leash from the Lieutenant’s grasp and held it out toward you expectantly. “Will you take Dash inside for his meal? Then I’ll see you to change for dinner.”

You hurried to close the distance, pushing your bike along with you as you took the leash from her, Dash happily wending his way between your ankles in greeting. “Certainly, Miss.” You replied patiently before excusing yourself with a curtsy, leading the dog inside, finding it rather awkward to manage the bicycle as well but after nearly ten years of serving the St John family you knew better than to test Miss Isobel.

“I think it’s charming how she says it.” You bit the inside of your cheek savagely, trying not to overhear Lieutenant Nixon’s defense of your pronunciation, particularly when Miss Isobel replied in a sultry voice.

“I’ll tell you what’s charming…” The rest of her statement was mercifully out of the range of your hearing as you tucked your bicycle away in the garage.

As the calendar flipped to May, Lieutenant Nixon’s presence became less and less frequent at Lydiard and the ever-impatient Miss Isobel’s eye began to wander. It most certainly was not your place to have an opinion, or loyalties to any of her suitors, but the presence of a RAF pilot named Shore left a sour taste in your mouth.

It was early on June 7 when the first of Lieutenant Nixon’s letters to Miss Isobel arrived. Placing it on a silver tray, you took it up first thing in the morning when you went up to dress her for the day. It sat on her vanity, unopened still, when you changed her for dinner with Captain Shore, remained there while she flirted with him brightly through the meal, and was brushed into the dust bin as you undressed her for bed. “Oh, Miss I think you…”

“That will be all, good night.” She waved her hand dismissively and you frowned, excusing yourself with a nod before stepping out of the room.

Sitting heavily on your twin bed in the attic, the metal frame creaking in protest, your brow remained furrowed as all you could picture was Lieutenant Nixon’s caring face as he had listened attentively to your answers whilst going out of his way to drive you into town. He was a kind and considerate man, not to mention excruciatingly handsome, but now that he was out of sight, he was quite simply out of Miss Isobel’s mind. For all anyone knew he could be lying dead in France somewhere by now, the news of the invasion fresh in everyone’s mind, particularly the steep toll and tenuous hold.

“You keep making that face and it’ll get stuck like that.” Helen, your roommate chided warmly, and you blinked rapidly, shaking your head to clear it with a self-deprecating laugh.

“Just overthinking things, sorry Helen. Shall I get the light?”

With her agreement, you flicked the switch off at the wall and shuffled back to bed, sliding under the covers, mulling over the conundrum of the unopened letter upstairs. You would be emptying that dustbin tomorrow morning while Miss Isobel was at breakfast. Perhaps you should rescue it in case she changed her mind. Plan formulated, you were able to get some rest and later secured the correspondence, storing it in the bottom of your suitcase.

One week later, the second letter arrived, and you took it up to Miss Isobel hopefully.

“Oh, you can stop bringing these to me, I shan’t be taking up correspondence with him.” She muttered dismissively, not even taking the letter from the tray on which you presented it to her.

Your entire body went rigid for a moment, and it took a great summoning of strength to reply, “Yes, Miss.”

“And take Dash for an extra long walk, would you, he’s been positively listless the past few weeks and the weight of his gaze is quite a bore.” She sank in the vanity chair expectantly as you glanced over at the dog, lying forgotten on his plush, velvet bed, no longer of use to her as Captain Shore was allergic.

“Yes, Miss.” Your reply was perhaps terser than it ought to be, but to your good fortune, Miss Isobel was already flipping through a magazine idly as she waited for you to begin styling her hair.

Drawing deeply from your well of restraint, you managed not to jab her scalp with any pins as you secured her hair into a set of fashionable victory rolls before you called to Dash to take him for a walk. As you descended the stairs, you took the abandoned letter from its tray and shoved it into your pocket, grabbing Dash’s leash from the backdoor in the servant’s hall and heading out for a lengthy walk of the grounds. It did both of you good to get out of that house, Dash immediately perking up, tailing wagging as he trotted to-and-fro to inspect the foliage while you worked out your frustration at the petulant child you worked for by setting a brisk pace.

You only slowed after about thirty minutes, when a sheen of sweat had gathered at your brow and your legs were beginning to ache, changing to a stroll as you circled the lake, laughing softly as Dash barked at the ducks far out in the water who paid him no mind. “I promise to bring you out here more often, you silly boy.” You muttered, sliding a hand into your pocket and blinking as you found the letter, guilt twisting like a knife in your belly. “Because there’s a lot to make up for when it comes to your mistress.”

Swallowing tightly, you slowly pulled out the envelope, looking over Lieutenant Nixon’s tidy cursive. Certainly, there were laws against reading another’s mail, but the immorality of entertaining a man’s affections for six months only to throw him over as soon as he went to war seemed to outweigh all that in your mind. He had taken the time to write to an ungrateful, spoiled woman, the least someone could do was grant him the courtesy of reading it. Johnny had always said what a joy it was to send and receive letters, how it took his mind off life at the front first in North Africa and now Italy, and as someone who got to enjoy the safety and comfort of home it was a duty in your mind to do whatever you could to help those fighting for the Allies.

Taking a shaky breath, you carefully slipped the letter from the pre-sliced envelope – Miss Isobel was not even expected to open her own mail, after all – and unfolded the sheets of paper.

Pressing your fingertips to your lips, you only realized your feet had stopped their progress across the lawn when Dash’s leash tugged at your wrist insistently before he bounded over to you, pressing his paws onto your calf impatient to continue on. “Sorry, Dash, yes.” You whispered, carefully folding the letter and sliding it back into its envelope before returning it to your pocket.

For all his jokes and smirks, there had always been an air of melancholy about Lieutenant Nixon, one that he seemed to hide beneath a good story and strong drink. The only crime, as far as you could see, would be for his letters, written with such care and affection and filled with a need for connection, to remain unanswered. You could write well-enough, had received excellent marks on your cursive before you left school at sixteen to begin working and supporting your father as his old wound had become more and more troublesome.

You would, of course, toe the line of impersonating your employer. There would be no soppy declarations, just descriptions of the home and the family. Stories to keep his spirits up – just as he requested. Begging out of the after-dinner socializing with the rest of the staff due to a headache, you slipped up to your room to retrieve the first letter from the bottom of your suitcase and sat on your bed to read it as well, intending to reply to both.

Settling against the headboard with some fresh paper and a pen, you nibbled on the end of it thoughtfully, trying to decide how to begin your response.

Lieutenant Nixon

My Dear Lewis

Dearest Lewis

“You’d think I was trying to reinvent the wheel…” You hissed under your breath before grabbing a new sheet of paper and starting anew.

You bit your lip as you signed off, taking more than a little pleasure in perpetuating a nickname you knew Miss Isobel loathed. There were moments in the letter where you may have let a bit more of your own personality shine through but on the whole, you were satisfied that it was a rather good impersonation of your mistress. And most important of all, provided Lieutenant Nixon with the fuel for his imagination that he so longed for.

Preparing an envelope with the mailing address and Miss Isobel’s return address, you carefully folded it all up once the ink had properly dried and placed it in the outgoing post that night after you’d helped Miss Isobel change for bed. In your thoughts as you fell asleep was not only the hope for your brother’s safe return, but also that of Lieutenant Nixon, too.

--------------------------

Read Part Two

I Wish You Love Masterlist

Tag list: @ronsparky, @fuckoffthanos, @bcon24

#lewis nixon x reader #lewis nixon imagines #lewis nixon imagine #band of brothers x reader #band of brothers imagines #band of brothers imagine #band of brothers fic #band of brothers

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thedepthsoffandomminds · 3 months

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The guest PT 23

Masterlist

It had taken a month of bedrest before Sneed would allow you to be released from the hospital. In that time, the Professor had taken his retirement and Sneed taken over the head surgeon position. As yet he had denied Belle's requests to become a full-time doctor. However, Jack was now being paid a gracious wage and a simple house had been set up not too far away that would be yours once you were married.

Oliver Twist had called off his wedding to Fanny at the dockyard, when it was discovered that not only had he initially stolen the gold but then also lost it. The official story being he has been stitched up by Monks. Given that they were half brothers it was easy for others to believe.

Through her disappointment Fanny threw herself into arranging your wedding.

By the end of the first month you were released back to Government house where even Lady Jane tittered about your comfort. You hated that you still needed so much help with almost everything. Fanny would stay and read to you most days. On occasion Fagin or Hetty would come by and take you for a walk around the gardens. Every day you grow a little stronger.

In the evenings when Jack's shift at the hospice finished he would come by and spend time with you. Stealing small kisses when no one was looking. He had refused to move into the house until he could live there with you and so he would return to his room in the hospital each night.

Finally the day had come when you would become Mrs Dawkins. You awoke and stretched out your muscles. There was still an ache in the healing wound on your abdomen but it felt good to stretch. Your bedroom door opened and the sister came giggling into the room.

"Good morning." You smile at them. "The bath is being drawn, nice and warm just like you like it." Fanny jumped onto your bed, folding her legs below her. Belle rested against the bedpost.

"How are you feeling?" She asked you.

"I'm good, excited. A little nervous." You admit.

"Not to worry, we have kept it small, just as you requested and the garden is being set up now." Fanny said, the wide smile on her face seemingly unable to slip.

You thanked her and went to the bathroom, where you slid into the large rolltop bath. A maid helps to wash out your hair that had grown long over the last year. You make sure not to get your stitches too wet as you bathe. Once you returned to your room and you'd begun dressing Lady Jane appeared in your doorway.

"would you like some help?" She asked. You nodded and she crossed the room, helping to tie your corset. She made sure it fitted you well but did not pull it too tight.

"You know, you are not my daughter, but just as you have with my husband you have infiltrated this family in a most delightful way. I am glad to call you part of our family and you will be missed amongst these walls." She admitted, patting your hand, "I brought these with me. Both the girls have been assigned their family heirlooms. Still, I have these, they were my grandmothers and she wore them on her wedding day. I would be honoured if you would wear them today and pass them onto your own daughter." Lady Jane placed a velveteen box into your hands. You open it and see the most beautiful necklace and bracelet set. Two strings of pearls held together at the front with a silver medallion. The bracelet was the same only smaller.

"They are breathtaking, Lady Jane." You say and pull her into a hug that she happily returns.

"I will have the maids come in to get you dressed." She nods once before leaving again. You look at the jewelry and try to hold back your tears of joy. You really didn't understand how any of this could have happened. Not even a year ago you were a lonely doctor, living alone and now you were marrying the man of your dreams who had literally saved your life. You had a group of friends that loved you deeply. Belle came rushing into your room flinging our robe around your shoulders.

"Jack is walking up." She whispered to you and ran to the balcony window. You followed her and looked out. Jack was dressed in his Naval uniform, though it had definitely been altered to fit him a little better. Fagin walked beside him dressed in the nicest clothes you had ever seen on him. It was clearly a new suit. 'using his new money well' you thought to yourself. Jack's eyes found yours and his lips pulled up in a smile. Belle giggled and pulled you away.

"He looks very handsome." She says.

"He does." You sigh happily.

"Are you ready miss?" The maids had entered.

In the gardens Jack walked up to the gathered guests. He would be lying if he said he wasn't nervous. Sneed stepped up to him.

"Well I suppose the best man won." He admitted holding his hand out to Jack.

"Well you got the job I got the girl. I'd say we both won." Jack shook his hand. Over the last few months their working relationship had become easier, a flow between them just worked.

"After your honeymoon there is an invitation to the club." Sneed said. Jack thanked him and he moved on. Slowly he greeted each person as he made his way to the front of the small aisle. Several chairs had been set up on the back lawn and the priest, Crooky, stood at the head of them. Jack shook Crooky's hand, and he waited, Fagin beside him.

To his right, Fanny began to play the harp, the sweet tinkering indicating that you were about to appear. As the music played Belle walked slowly down the aisle as your bridesmaid and took her place to one side of the priest. You stood now waiting for your signal to move. Edmund appeared beside you, holding his arm out.

"Let me give you away?" He whispered.

"I'd be honoured." You reply and slide your hand around his elbow. The music changes just slightly and the two of you begin the slow walk. Jack turns and his eyes meet yours, his breath taken instantly. He marvelled at the way the veil drifted down your hair that had been mostly left down. Your cream dress was fitted perfectly to you. The sleeves dipped off your shoulders and a gold embroidery adorned the bottom of the skirt. Simple matching gloves reached to just above your elbow. He supposed it was as elaborate as you would allow but it suited you perfectly in his opinion.

Inside him there was a little boy who was cold and frightened, who was sure he would die in a damp prison. That little boy could never have imagined that he would have a moment as simply perfect as this one.

Edmund passed your hand to Jack's and he pressed a soft kiss to your cheek before taking a seat beside his wife.

You and Jack turn to Crooky.

"ladies and gentlemen we are gathered here today to celebrate the union between this man and this woman in the eyes of our Lord God. Now Doctor, the vows."

Jack nodded and looked to you.

"I, Jack Dawkins, take thee, y/n y/l/n, to be my wedded wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do us part, according to God's holy ordinance; and thereto I pledge thee my faith."

"y/n" Crooky looks to you.

" "I, y/n y/l/n, take thee, Jack Dawkins, to be my wedded husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do us part, according to God's holy ordinance; and thereto I pledge thee my faith."

jack slid a ring onto your finger, Crooky announced you husband and wife and Jack leaned in to kiss you.

A loud bang rings through your ears and several people scream. Jack grabs your arms and lowers you, using his body to cover you. His eyes scan the crowd when he sees him. Monks, standing at the end of the aisle.

"You betrayed me!" He shouted pointing his revolver pistol at Jack.

"Monks, no..." Jack held up his hands in front of him.

"You and him did this!" Monks said through gritted teeth. "I'll kill you all."

"Arrest that man!" Edmund shouted to the guards who were standing close by. There is a flurry of movement. You can't be sure what is happening. More shots are fired. You hit the floor and look down at your dress. Blood covered the bodice and in your lap Jack lay.

"Jack, Jack? Help me!" You scream.

@afalls14universe @fandomfan-102 @deanstolemydragon @mydeputyghostwagon

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esta-elavaris · 7 months

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Flufftober Day 22: Picking - Boromir/OC [1,366 words]

My Flufftober '23 masterpost can be found here, and my currently ongoing main fic about these two is here 💜✨

Sybil cast a sidelong glance in Boromir’s direction for the hundredth time that day – and, for the hundredth time that day, was promptly caught.

“If you keep looking at me thus, I’ll begin to think you suspect me of planning a sneak attack,” he teased.

“I only worry that you’re-”

“I am not bored.”

He had been sitting on the same boulder for some time now – watching her pick her way through various patches of flora, discerning what she might take and what she would leave. Ordinarily she wouldn’t have been too concerned, but this was the fourth or fifth such perch he’d had to find so far, as they’d come here in the pale morning and now the midday heat was finally easing up. None could blame him if he sought a more exciting venture.

“And watching someone pick herbs and flowers is a source of fascination for you, is it?” she asked.

At present, she was picking her way through a patch of delicate red berries, depositing handfuls here and there into the wicker basket at her elbow. Her hair rebelled against the braid she’d bound it into that morning, and the knees of her breeches muddy from kneeling so frequently on the damp earth.

“When the one doing the picking is the most beautiful maid in all of Middle-earth, it most certainly is.”

She scoffed at him, but the flush that took over her cheeks ruined the effect rather.

“You think I jest?” he prodded as she worked.

He had to find his fun somewhere, and evidently he had decided that place would be in teasing her.

“When a man who has looked upon the Lady Galadriel says such things, he must know his words have the sound of a lie when he speaks them,” she replied.

“I should think that only proves the point in my words,” he countered lazily. “I looked upon the Lady of the Golden Wood, and in comparison to you, I found her wanting indeed.”

Sybil laughed. How could she not, in the face of such absurdity. It seemed her mirth was something he was hoping to pry out of her, for he grinned in turn as she dropped her hands to her lap and knelt back as she responded.

“Do not let Gimli hear you say such things. He’d challenge you to a duel on the spot.”

“I would take that challenge in a heartbeat - against any who might suggest my lady love has an equal that walks under this sun.”

“You are a dreadful flirt.”

As she levelled her conclusion his way, she stood and straightened.

“I speak the truth and she calls me dreadful,” he sighed fretfully to himself – with no shortage of melodrama. “What hope have I in winning her heart?”

“Plenty, considering you’re married to her.”

“Ah, but it would not do to grow complacent. I won your hand once, tis true, but I mean to never stop winning it.”

Sybil felt her smile soften.

“You do that solely by breathing, you do realise?”

“Come now, you mustn’t make it too easy for me. Name your challenge and I will take it on, all for the honour of your hand.”

Giggling a little, she shook her head and then looked up. Her progress across the course of the morning had brought her to the foot of a steep rocky outcropping, so steep that what was as good as a cliff face towered over her. There was a small patch of weeds, huddled together on a small shelf a few feet above her head – but she didn’t much fancy trying to climb while wielding sharp implements. Not least because if she fell, she’d land straight into the plants she’d just been sifting through, and most of them had thorns.

“Use your great height to fetch me those plants, then?” she suggested.

It looked as though he’d truly meant it when he sought a challenge from her, following her gaze and nodding readily as he stood.

“Here, take my shears – don’t pluck them, but cut them. At an angle, like so.”

As she spoke, she made to show him the ones she’d already collected, but he scarcely glanced at them, eyeing the shelf.

“I have a better idea. Set the basket down. I’ll lift you.”

“Lift me?”

“Yes.”

“Are you sure?”

“One would think I’d never done so before.”

Her face heated. For she knew what occasions he was referring to, and they weren’t the ones that had occurred on their travels – not based on the lopsided grin that tugged at his lips.

“That is very different.”

“True – on those occasions I’m far more distracted. So if you can trust me then, you can trust me now.”

“I trust you always,” she snorted. “I’ve just no wish to fall while holding sharp, pointed objects.”

“Then do not fall,” he said with a cheeky grin.

Sybil huffed a laugh, but relented and set the basket down – out of fall-breaking distance, should she go toppling. It was unlikely that she would, he was right, but a basketful of squashed spoils would be poor reward for a day of gathering.

“How do you propose we do this, then?” she asked.

Rubbing at his jaw, he cast his gaze up towards the plants, considered them a moment, and then her.

“Here,” he said. “Stand straight, and keep your lower body tensed. Are you ready?”

Following his instruction, she turned to face the rock face and nodded. Boromir crouched down low – stupidly low, as he had to in order to wrap his great strong arms around her legs. Then, slowly, he stood, lifting her as he did so. Sybil wobbled.

“See, when I said to remain tense, I did not mean that you should go lax and do that. But it was an easy mistake to make, I suppose,” he teased.

“Oh, shut up.”

He barked a boisterous laugh in response, nudging his head against her hip, his arms wrapped securely about her legs, hands gripping her thighs. It was tempting to accuse him of having far too much fun – but it wasn’t as if she wasn’t enjoying it, either. After a moment she managed to gain her bearings.

“Steady?” he asked, upon feeling her muscles tense beneath his grip.

“A little higher, if you can?”

“If I can,” he echoed with a scoff as though offended.

Perhaps he had a right to be, too, for he obeyed with alarming ease – his strength never failing to thrill her as he heaved her upwards another foot or two. The move put her perfectly face to face with her quarry, and a few seconds were all she needed to snip what she needed.

“I’m done,” she said. “You can put me down.”

“What if I have no wish to?”

“Then your arms will grow very tired.”

“Is that a challenge?”

“Absolutely not,” she said emphatically – for she knew better than to level challenges his way.

“Cast the scissors aside a moment,” he jerked his head, indicating where she should throw them.

“Why?”

“Because your lord husband commands it.”

And he should have known better than to say things like that to her. Sybil got her revenge by taking up a handful of grass from the shelf and sprinkling it down atop his head. He seemed woefully unbothered by her sophisticated method of attack. With a sigh – and the knowledge that she’d be up here ‘til sunset if she didn’t concede – she cast the scissors aside.

It was a good thing, too, for one moment he held her aloft and the neck she was plummeting down, some alarmingly swift manoeuvring on his part had him catching her in a bridal style carry before she could even cry out or brace for the impact of the ground.

“How did you do that?” she breathed a laugh.

The hand that hadn’t come to cling to his shoulders of its own volition still grasped her prize – and they weren’t even all that wilted in the fall. In response to her question, he merely grinned and then offered a very self-satisfied wink. The effect was not ruined by the grass that still clung to his hair.

Links: AO3 -- FF.net -- flufftober masterpost -- dividers by cafekitsune

#esta's flufftober '23 fills #flufftober2023 #flufftober 2023 #boromir/sybil #boromir x oc #boromir/oc #boromir fanfiction #lotr fanfiction #lotrfic #lotr fanfic

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nicistrying · 24 days

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Sat 27th April

Well I made it to the weekend although yesterday at work was kind of rough just purely from an anxiety point of view

Got up early to walk Maggie, I needed to get outside. Was a beautiful morning but still v chilly

Matt's mam text him at 7.30am asking to meet us for a walk. I said please no, I've set myself a boundary that I just want one fucking quiet weekend. But they did need to drop his bday presents off. Turned out later that they couldn't meet us for a walk as they needed to help a friend get a tractor out of the mud, thank god, but they came round to 'drop the presents off' and they were here for over an hour. Interrograting about the wedding, wanting us to invite more of their family as a couple of people can't make it etc , bearing in mind I have already ordered place settings and am about to order the table plan so I don't want the guest list to change. Matt said we may invite my maid of honour's parents and his mam came back with 'well they're not really important are they' like excuse me they literally took me in when my mam kicked me out at 16. They took such good care of me when I was in a shitty place. Fuck you 'they're not important'. Now I want to invite them just out of spite.

So that pissed me off straight away. Then it was 'let's get these pies in your freezer, oh god your freezer is so disorganised, the whole thing needs sorted out' like ok i'm sorry I didn't have time to reorganise the fucking freezer on my cleaning spree before you arrived, trying to not give you anything about the house to complain about.

'When are you going to do the escape room with your brothers why are you so disorganised' we're fucking busy! In the next 2 months, we have 3 weekends free and that's before Matt takes his shifts at work for June.

Like please, make me feel even more shit! Please do that! I really need that right now! Just say one fucking nice thing, would that actually kill you?? I complimented his mam's hair and she just went 'meh I don't like it they cut it too short' Just say thank you! Jesus christ

I'm seriously losing patience with them. They seem so pissed that we actually spend time with my family occasionally, as if we should spend every spare second with them. Like no, there are two people in this relationship and we both have family to see. Our entire existence does not revolve around you

Had a nap when they left (it was 11am lmao) and we went for a walk in a park where we used to live and it was lovely and nostalgic. Pets' Corner was open so we went to see the animals - billy goats, pygmy goats, ducks, rabbits, guinea pigs, guinea fowl, lots of sweet little birds, and a beautiful peacock and peahen. This dude was looking particularly handsome today

We got ice creams, and had a lovely walk. I started getting mega anxious on the way back to the car thinking wtf am I going to do when we get home and Matt has to go work on his assignment.. turns out I'm sitting in my pyjamas feeling gross and irritable and sad. He wants us both to go walk Mags but I need to just sit here and decompress I think

#not doing good yall #personal #mental health #family #in-laws #kinda hate them atm ngl #nic's wedding #wish we had eloped #saved ourselves 20K and just fucked off to a hill in scotland to get married alone #too late now #anxiety #sad #idk if im depressed enough to tag depression how sad is that #ugh #walk #Maggie

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iamcherryblessed · 8 months

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Rosaline // Alec Volturi: Chapter One

Summary: “How the blood rushed into my cheeks” Rosaline was no stranger to hard work, she’s been working as a maid for as far back as she can remember. Starting off as a scullery maid and ending up as a Lady’s Maid for the fearsome Jane Volturi. She’s just trying to keep her head on her shoulders and her heart beating, what happens when she catches the eye of her Lady’s stoic twin brother? What does Alec Volturi want with a lowly maid? “So scarlet, it was maroon” Series masterlist

Chapter One

A shudder ran through me. A shaky breath escaped my lips as I stared at the elderly woman in front of me.

“Rosaline, it is your duty.” The woman reminded, she was always quite stern. The toll of her work showed on each wrinkle that decorated her face. Forcing myself to take a deep breath, I slowly nodded my head.

“It will be okay,” the woman, Annie, our head housekeeper, attempted to console me, a hand patting my shoulder.

“Yes, Miss.” My voice came out shaky. It won’t be okay, she’s just signed my death sentence.

I could hear the whispers of the other girls, not so quietly taking bets on how long they think I'll last. Even as the new girl I had been warned about the cruel legacy of our masters, heard the gossip of what happens to the Lady’s Maid of the most feared of them all; Jane. Apparently Hattie, the girl before me, had a habit of being quite heavy footed. All it took was stepping a bit too hard onto the floor for her head to be rolled off her shoulders.

Before this assignment I was a kitchen maid for another noble family, I spent most of my time baking complicated recipes and cleaning the cutlery. I had started off as a scullery maid but had managed to work my way up, what I would give to stay in the kitchens. Apparently those kinds of maids are not useful for this family, I am not sure what kind of household does not find a kitchen to be useful. There have been mutterings of the words ‘monsters’ and ‘devils’ but it is not my duty to ask questions, it is my duty to serve. And if that duty is to serve Jane Volturi, then I shall do my best. It seems like my life depends on it.

A gaggle of chambermaids stood by the door, they giggled to themselves as I walked towards them. “No bother to learn your name now,” they laughed. I tried to remain calm, I tried to catch my breath and I tried to show no emotion on my face. It wasn’t working well if their growing smiles were anything to go off.

“Girls, leave her alone!” Annie snapped, “make sure to get a good night's rest” she added on in a much more gentle tone. I nodded and kept my head down as I quietly made my way up to my new chambers.

The one positive to becoming a Lady’s Maid is being able to move from the servants corridor. The servants quarters were all kept to the left side of the castle, we had a couple of rooms with as many beds that could fit on the ground floor, the rooms were separated by girls and boys. Just above was a small and not very updated kitchen, there wasn’t an area dedicated to eating. We just ate as quickly as we could where we stood. The bathroom was next to the kitchen, there was one toilet and one bath that only produced cold water to share between all the castle servants. Throughout the floors were the servants' halls which allowed us to move as swiftly as we could across all the floors while avoiding being seen by the masters. All of the areas used only by the servants were all dimly lit and held a musty scent but it was the only place where we could speak above a whisper or hold a smile. Not that many people here did.

A Lady’s Maid gets to sleep on the same floor as their Lady, our room is conjoined. Unseen by the Lady but close enough for us to come as soon as we are called. Being a Lady’s Maid is normally a high honour, for most maid’s starting at a scullery maid and ending up where I am now normally takes a lot longer. However, this place, this family, everything is different. Everything feels weird.

From what I’ve heard about Lady Jane she goes through maids very quickly, according to the gossiping chambermaids Hattie was her fourth this calendar year and it is currently only month eight. Of course you send the new girl to be the fifth, why send someone you're familiar with? It’s not as much of a loss when you’ve only been here for less than a month.

My new room was cramped, there was a small bed nestled between the wall and a small chest of drawers. On the other side, behind where the door opened, was a toilet with a sink next to it, above was a dirty mirror. I couldn’t help the smile that spread across my lips, it was compact but it was all mine. A room I didn’t have to share with 5 other girls, my own bathroom I didn’t have to share with over a dozen other people. It almost made it worth it. Until I glanced at the piece of paper that was on top of my thin pillow, it was Annie’s handwriting detailing Lady Jane’s schedule for tomorrow and the jobs I will need to complete.

I felt my heart stutter, I need to get my head clear so that I can do my work tomorrow and stay alive. Sleep struggled to come. But soon enough the morning came and I heard Lady Jane calling for me.

#twilight #alec volturi #twilight x oc #alec volturi x oc #alec volturi imagine #alecvolturi #alec volturi fanfic #twilight fanfic #rosaline series #alec volturi x reader

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asmutwriter · 2 months

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Just A Woman (Part 1 Section 3)

DESCRIPTION: After your weekend with the Bridgerton family you go back to your usual living. Bumping into a familiar face whilst at work

A/N - I have condensed partr 1 (which you can find here) into 4 smaller chunks so that you can have a better reader experience

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

WORD COUNT: 2819

From beginning / Previous / Next / Master List

WARNINGS: swearing, mentions of prostitution, time period sexism, mentions of sex work

DISCLAIMERS

- I wrote this in my knowledge of sex workers and I am truly sorry if I got it wrong and/or is offensive, that is not what I wanted to do and I’m sorry if that is the case

- This is fiction. Please always talk to your partner before doing anything and make sure they are ok with what you are doing beforehand

The next morning you awaken late again. You get dressed and go downstairs. After you have had breakfast you go to find Violet. You bow to her slightly as you see her “Lady Bridgerton. I’m sorry to bother you but I was wondering if I could have your help. I’m not fully acquainted with balls and I am unsure of which dress to wear” she smiles and looks at you

“My dear, I’d be happy to help you” you both go to your room, showing her your dresses she picks out the prettiest one for you. Holding it up against your body “Yes this one. The colour will suit you just fine” she smiles and lies it on the bed “get dressed about 10 minutes before it starts. It will ensure your dress stays as nice as it can be for when the guests arrive” you nod and smile at her, bowing as she leaves the room. You go over and gently trace the fabric of the dress.

The day seems to take longer than normal as you pace around the house. Anxious about tonight. You get dressed into the gown, one of the maids helping you do up your corset and put the dress on. You walk out to see all the Bridgerton’s and John waiting for you. You smile and go over to John. You see him put a finger up “I have something I want you to wear tonight. A gift from me to you” he turns and takes out a box. Opening it he reveals a beautiful necklace. The colours matching perfectly to your dress.

“Holy shit!” you cover your mouth. He tries hard not to laugh as do some of the Bridgerton siblings. He picks it up from the velvet box,

“May I?” you nod as he places the piece around your neck. You lightly trace the jewellery. He smiles as he watches your face beam with joy as you hug him. Pulling away and straightening your dress again

“How do I look?” you twirl

“Beautiful” he takes your hand and kisses it

“Good. That was the correct answer” he laughs as he excuses himself momentarily. You see him go over to the older Bridgerton boys but you are too busy talking to Daphne to take into account what he says. That’s when the first guests start to arrive. You hide in the corner of the room, watching as the men and woman dance away. All beautifully choreographed. You have found yourself at a buffet table, indulging in the grapes there. Colin walks over to you

“Are you not going to dance?” you shake your head

“If I dance I fear I may fall over and make a complete fall of myself” he nods as you hear his name being called. You turn to see a young ginger haired girl approach you. You smile at her and bow slightly.

“Colin have you seen your sister? I’ve been trying to find her but I haven’t had such luck”

“No I haven’t Pen. I saw her earlier but not recently” she nods as she looks at you and smiles

“I don’t think I’ve had the pleasure. I’m Penelope”

“I’m Isabella” she bows her head slightly to you as she looks at Colin. You see complete admiration in her eyes as she looks at him. You see a similar look when he meets her gaze.

“I believe the next dance is starting” you say “It’d be a shame for you to not show off such a beautiful dress miss” you smile at the young girl. Nudging Colin “I would take her to the dance floor but it is not proper. Would you do me the honour of taking this beautiful girl for a dance?” he chuckles and offers his hand, you smile as she takes it and they head off. A few moments later you are met with Benedict. You look at him and offer him a grape to which he turns down. You pop it into your mouth as you watch the couples twirling and dancing. “What did John say to you earlier?”

“What do you mean?”

“He said something to you and your brothers earlier this evening. And I haven’t seen him tonight so I wondered what he asked you” you can see him about to go and change the subject but you interrupt him beforehand “if you don’t answer me I will ask your brothers. If they don’t answer me I’ll ask every single person at this party until I find out where he is” you smile at him innocently

“He said that he has an urgent meeting with someone so he will attend when he is free. He asked me and my brothers to keep you company and make sure you feel welcomed here” you nod and eat another grape

“Are you not going to dance?” he shakes his head “Why not?”

“No one here I’d like to dance with” you nod and look around “do you not want to dance?”

“I would but don’t you have to wait for someone to ask you?” you look at him as he nods. He puts his hand out for you to take

“Will you do me the honour?” you smile and take his hand. Letting him take you to the dance floor as he smiles at you, telling you the basic steps as he takes the lead. After the dance you bow to each other and go back to where you were standing. An older woman comes over to you and smiles

“Hello my dear. That dress and necklace is amazing”

“Thank you ma’am” you nod slightly at her in appreciation. She smiles

“Your dancing is amazing as well. It looked like you were having lots of fun” you nod and smile

“Oh it was great. I did nearly piss myself from excitement though” she looks shocked at your words but then laughs slightly. You look at Benedict who is also trying not to laugh at your words. “Where do I get a drink?”

“I’ll go get you a lemonade” you nod and smile as he walks away, leaving you with the woman. John’s mother walks over to you

“My dear. Why don’t you show Lady Danbury here your singing skills?”

“Oh no I couldn’t possibly-”

“I insist. It is my son’s ball so he will be happy for you to show your skills” Benedict walks over and gives you your drink. You take it

“Thank you” you smile but lean closer “save me”

“Come on my dear” she goes over and calls out “everyone. My lovely friend Isabella will be singing a song for you all” she looks at you. You tighten your grip on your drink

“Fuck it” you murmur and take your drink as a shot. You walk over to one of the instruments the band is playing “May I?” he nods and allows you on it. You start to play a few notes, thinking of words to sing. You start to sing, your voice filling the now quiet hall. Afterwards they clap for you

“How would people like another song?” you shake your head

“Oh no I-”

“Go on, sing for us some more” Johns mother says. You catch eyes with Benedict who mouths ‘go on’ at you. You glare at him before nodding slightly and playing the instrument again you start to sing words. Everyone claps again and you bow slightly. Going back over to Benedict

“Amazing performance there” you playfully hit his arm

“Hush. How much longer before I can take this dress off and wear something less damaging to my organs” he laughs slightly “I’m serious. I think my torsos gone numb. Plus I’m overheating. I feel a little like a lobster in a pot” he laughs again, making you glare at him but smile.

“I think it’s about an hour or so longer to go”

“Fucks sake” you say just as Lady Danbury walks over to you again, raising her eyebrow at your as she overhears your swear. You smile at her and bow slightly “m’lady. Pleasure to see you again”

“You have quite the excellent singing voice. Where do you hear the songs you sing?”

“Oh I make them up as I go. My friend always told me I have a good ear for musical notes”

“Yes. The words though my dear. They really speak to the soul do they not?” you nod and smile at her

“I have to admit, my other friend reads romantic novels constantly and I always mock her for it. Tending to make up soppy words on the spot to make her embarrassed” she laughs at your words

“Makes sense my dear. She is lucky to have a friend like you” she smiles as she leaves. You look at the Bridgerton brother

“Was I ok?” he nods

“You were great” he takes a sip of his drink “I think she may be quite fond of you” that is when Eloise and Penelope walk over to you. Penelope watching Colin fondly from the other side of the room. Eloise looks at you

“Danced with any men yet?”

“Only your brother. No one else has asked me to dance” she nods “have you two been in a dance yet?” they shake their heads. You look around, seeing if you can find a young man to dance with any of you. You make eye contact with someone who looks at you intensely. You break eye contact but before long he walks over to you four.

“Don’t I know you from somewhere?” he looks you up and down

“I think you have me mistaken for someone else” you smile at him. He looks at your eyes and grins

“No I know you. You work in that little place down the road. What’s it called? You know. The place with the who-”

“Yes Mr Bridgerton I would love to have another dance” you say as you take his hand and go to the dance floor. You see the two younger girls try to ask the gentlemen questions but he dismisses them both and walks away.

“Where do you work?” you shake your head at the question.

“That is not relevant. And now is not the time or place to ask me” you smile at him slightly, meeting your eyes.

The rest of the night goes slowly. But the following day goes by quickly when it is soon the evening and you must go. You are surprisingly sad to say goodbye to all the Bridgerton’s and John. But you make your leave, them driving a carriage back to your place of work. John allowed you to keep some of the dresses he leant you, noting he left you the money in one of the gowns. You get out of the carriage, walking home from the brothel. You open the door to your small and quiet house. 6 young girls running and hugging you. “We’ve missed you so much” they all start telling you about their days. You nodding and smiling at them all, knowing you must retire to bed soon as you are tired. The eldest notices

“I’ll put them to bed. Go and have a bath and go to sleep” you nod and do what she says. Falling asleep, memories of the past few days filling your dreams. The next morning you are awoken to find all the younger children crawled into your bed. You hug them all before leaving and getting dressed, going about your morning duties before they wake up. Once they have all awoken you all have lunch together and they go and play in the garden apart from Daisy who is sitting down reading a book.

“Not more romances I hope”

“This ones more a psychological book”

“Does the girl and the guy end up married at the end?” she nods “Then it’s a romance” she rolls her eyes at you as she places the book down on the table.

“Tell me about the ball. Was it as good as we always thought it’d be?”

“Honestly, it was better. I felt like a queen the whole evening”

“What was the food like?”

“Delicious. I managed to swipe a box of chocolates from them” you go over to your still unpacked bags and grab out a tray of unopened chocolates, showing it to her before putting it in a high shelf so the younger ones couldn’t reach it. You pull out one of the dresses and show her “I was allowed to keep 3 dresses as well. I picked the 3 prettiest ones” she goes over and touches the fabric. Letting her look at it you look at the clock. “I need to go to work. I won’t be long. I need to let them know I’m ok and home safely” she nods as she admires the other 2 dresses. You hug her before leaving.

Getting to your work place and entering it was a weird experience. You were so used to seeing people being prim and proper that it now seemed shocking to you for people to be grinding against each other half naked. You go and meet your friend who hugs you, cigarette in her hand “Isa! You’re back! You weren’t murdered” you shake your head as you get dressed into your working clothes. Some high stockings, a short skirt and a low cut corset.

“Honestly I’m glad to be back”

“Oh was no one hot enough for you to get your freak on?”

“Not that. More they were all too pristine so they wouldn’t dare even look at you in the eyes incise it caused pregnancy” you laugh as you bid her farewell and go out into the crowd of people. You go over and sit at the bar, ordering yourself a drink. A few minutes pass and you feel someone sit next to you. You take a sip of your drink before turning. “Hey ther-” you see Benedict sitting next to you, ordering a drink before he turns to you. A slight shocked expression. You look away “I’m sorry I must go” he takes your hand quickly

“Isabella?”

“I’m sorry you must have me confused for someone else” you continue to look at the ground. He tilts your head up slightly by your chin. Meeting your eyes with his

“Why are you in a brothel?”

“I could ask you the same thing”

“I think mine is a more obvious reason”

“And mine isn’t?” you motion at your clothes as he looks at your body. You see him shift slightly in his seat before looking at you again

“Why are you working in a brothel?” he whispers. You look around, grabbing his hand and taking him to a private room and shutting the door

“I told you I worked. You seem surprised”

“I am surprised”

“Why? Is a girl not allowed to make money of her own? Is she not allowed to express her sexuality like how men do?”

“You are. I’m just surprised to see someone who seemed so shy to even look at a man working in a place where her job is to have sex with them” you turn red at his words. “How long have you worked here?”

“About 3 years” you look away from him as he nods and sits on the bed. “So John...?”

“He payed me. But don’t tell him I told you. Shit. Why are you here?”

“Although John is going back tomorrow and his mother is also leaving today they said that we could stay in their house for a week. Have a family week away”

“So you’re here because?”

“Because it is difficult to find a woman out here, if you must know” you chuckle slightly

“You’re right. I can go get you one of our lovely ladies if you’d like?”

“I umm, I’d quite like to just stay in here and talk to you. If you’d be ok with that?” you nod slightly and go and sit next to him on the bed.

“I can’t be long here. I promised my friend I’d be back home soon. I said I’m only coming here so that they know I’m ok” he nods and looks at you

“Why don’t we go back now?”

“What?”

“I want to chat. You want to go home. I might as well come with you, right?”

“I’m flattered but I don’t know if my house is up to your kind of requirement” he shrugs and stands up, holding his hands out to you

“I don’t care. I want to see where you live” you nod and let him help you up. You excuse yourself and quickly get dressed into your normal clothes and then join him again. You both walk about a mile to your house. Once there you look at him, trying to judge his expression on his face as he sees your small house.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

#benedict brigderton #benedict bridgerton smut #smut #benedict x reader #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton x reader smut #angst #fluff #benedict bridgerton angst #benedict bridgerton fluff #bridgerton angst #bridgerton smut #bridgerton fluff #benedict smut #benedict fluff #benedict angst

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edmundhoward · 3 months

Note

Sorry for being annoying over Anne x Jane but if you ever would have the chance to adapt this ship how would you do it?

by ‘adapt’, do you mean for a dramatisation? because i strictly believe that we need to put a moratorium on tudor related media (excluding henry vii and maaaaybe mary i since they’re underrepresented as is, and it would annoy the right people). so i don’t want an adaptation, frankly.

as for an ideal adaptation… well, i liked the idea of anne and jane’s dynamic in wolf hall — but not anne’s characterisation. it was so belligerent in stripping her of warmth and humanity, and this collective amnesia about criticisms of mantel’s handling of women (and gender) now that she’s dead is really something. personally, i’m fine with violently and bodily shoving her from her pedestal. on a similar strain, channel 5’s anne boleyn tried to give us a similar dynamic — of anne being unsettled by jane, whilst simultaneously looking down at her, and (again) i like the idea of anne being curious about jane, and the dynamic of gender/femininity being played with, with the two being seemingly polar opposites in ideological opposition, but nothing was delivered on that front. for as much as lola talked about jane being ‘machiavellian’... literally nothing was shown really exploring that. the kiss felt like everything else in that show: hollow, trying to be reactionary. you can’t try to explore that dynamic and simultaneously refuse jane any characterisation beyond the periphery of anne’s perspective; it’s imbalanced. also, i don’t like how these adaptations take every opportunity to make anne abusive to others — she is always depicted as putting her hands on jane (as well as striking others) and anne boleyn (channel 5) has her sexually harassing jane. i am not opposed to depicting anne as violent or abusive (there’s arguably evidence for it) but it seems notably one-sided: jane dormer’s account implies jane gave as good as she got (“scratching and bye blows between the queen and her maid”), and jane was clearly willing to undermine and displace her mistress which contradicts the idea of jane as passive/complacently honourable.

arguably the tudors s2 threads the needle the best? anne is irascible and clearly agitated and unsettled by jane, who is shown to be actively involved in her faction, and evidently lacks respect for anne. it just doesn’t take it far enough on characterising jane/giving her a clear motivation, and walks all of it back by s3, anyway.

#i know this isn’t really what you asked but honestly idk how to adapt this bc it depends on the framework of the overall adaptation #like … in the seymour adaptation you (i believe it was you) asked about ... this might play out differently #because from a seymour perspective court is opportunism and competition in a context where the sands are rapidly shifting underneath you #within a family that is exceptionally unexceptional really.#and anne is perhaps never legitimately queen in that context. but likewise coa's legitimacy can be traded for advancement.#from jane’s perspective anne is potential this questionable sister role as they come to court and serve together #functionally forced into the same spaces and roles until they’re not and that causes jane instability and it’s caused by anne.#anne is the obstacle. and then anne becomes the ritual sacrifice. because court is opportunism and sacrifice and it's her or you.#but from anne’s perspective i doubt jane means anything. they are not close nor familial; they seem to share nothing #(other than potentially elizabeth seymour...)#jane doesn't seem to be present in the devonshire manuscript for example.#jane x anne #anne x jane #seymour adaptation tag

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popcornforone · 8 months

Text

The Clients Company

A Max Lord Fan Fic

The random conversations you have with friends eh? I was at a friends birthday party & someone mentioned something that prominent in this fic & now here I am just under a month later with it ready for you all. & yea I got carried away with it. Max Lord is joining the party.

Synopsis: You hire entertainment for your friends Hen party which is 80s themed but the when you lay eyes on the rather scrumptious Max Lord the party might not ever stop.

Word count:6800

Warnings: DONOT READ IF YOU ARE UNDER 18! PIV protected & unprotected sex, pulling out, facial, cum play, consent & at some points lack of it, one off, swearing, alcohol, it’s not paying for sex but they are both hired by each other, teasing, stripping, adult entertainment, oral. Max Lord is in the modern world not the 80s but there is an 80s party. Hen party shenanigans.

Thanks as always for the read peoples. All feedback is appreciated. Enjoy your rather special hen party.

Jessica walks into the air bnb you’ve hired looking very confused, in the dark.

“Oh is this it?” She says dismissively “me & the two of you & take out pizza what a”

“SURPRISE!!!” Lucy turns the next light on & all her friends leap out, Jessica is over come with excitement. All her friends have crammed into one small box room to make her arrival to her hen party even more memorable. Screams hugs & kisses happen between Jessica & everyone. You & Lucy high five each other. Jessica has two friend groups & you, as the maid of honour, had asked Lucy to help you sort a few things out & contact the girls you didn’t know as well.

“We did good Lucy” you whisper as you both bring out the Prosecco. “& this is just the start” you have a surprise that even Lucy doesn’t know about.

Jessica loves 80s movies, music & fashion so you’ve made her hen party 80s themed. There pictures of the Hoff, wham & Duran Duran are on repeat & she is beaming.

“I can’t believe you did all this for me”

“Well you only get married once” Lucy replies.

“Or never” you scoff under your breath. You are the only single girl at this party to the best of your knowledge. Everyone’s got someone to snuggle on cold winter nights or a casual fling. But you haven’t had a date in 6 months. You’ve been trying to find a plus one for the wedding but you know it’s not going to happen now. You’ve let that ship sail. You hand out the first set of drinks & then the doorbell goes & you scuttle off quickly.

You open the door & usher the person in.

“Hi is this the hen party? Am I at…”

“Yea you are please go get changed in the bathroom, the bride will be astounded, she’s just arrived.” You can’t see much of his facial features, it’s raining outside. His hood is up & done up tightly around him. He scurries in & you show him to the bathroom to the side of the room that you are sleeping in. “Just through here, if you could make your entrance in about 5mins that would be fantastic.”

“No problem at all, you wanted 80s & early 90s right?” You see him set his bag down, coat not off hood still up.

“Yes please” you shut the bathroom door, leave your bedroom & head back to the party.

Everyone’s giggling & Jessica then asks “so what’s the plan?”

“Well we are eating & drinking & playing some games here & then into town for karaoke & clubbing….” Your smirk gives away something else is up & everyone looks keenly at you. “… unfortunately I couldn’t get us in to see the dream boys” the whole room goes oooohhhh & booos. The dream boys are your local strippers who do go all the way. “But…” everyone’s eyes pick up”I have got us a butler” everyone cheers & right on cue this glorious man appears playing some rather posh music from his phone. Floppy curtain style hair that bounces, rosey cheeks & big brown eyes. He’s got long sleek black trousers on underneath a very small apron & a white shirt with a bow tie, but no shoes. The room gawps at him excitedly. They are just happy to have a butler for the afternoon, they don’t know yet who he really is. Even with the 80s hair wig you find him attractive, those eyes would melt anyones soul.

“Ladies, Hens & the gorgeous bride Jessica, my name is Max Lord, a Lord now demoted to being a butler, but ladies, by the way you are all looking today, you all deserve a lord for the night” everyone claps & woohooos aloud. He then slowly walks across to Jessica. You made her wear white while you all wore dark blue her favourite colour. “My my you must be the bride” & he kisses the back of her hand & then whispers in her ear, to get her consent. He will go over the ground rules with everyone in a minute but as the bride & centre of the attention for the party he will do a lot more with her than anyone else. “Tell me Jessica,” his tone has turned seductive. “Does your soon to be husband have an arse like mine?” He grabs he hands, pulling them behind him to smack his bum. Giggling insues from the other hens. “Does he tell you how beautiful you are? Does his chest feel like this?” He trails her hands down his shirt & Jessica looks so excited. “Didn’t think so” he then stands to the side of Jessica as she looks up at this man. You’re biting your fist knowing exactly what coming. & for some reason even before the reveal you’re really turned on, more than you should be.

“You see ladies, I’m not just a butler” he raises an eyebrow, every woman is now putty in his hand. Those eyes & his charisma are working everyone in the room. “I have special gifts, but before I share these gifts with you, I need you all to agree that unless I whisper & give you permission or you consent, to try & contain yourselves, lets go around the room & check” every girl agrees. Maggie is a bit to enthusiastic, she’s obviously worked this out.

“I consent Mr lord” you reply & he smiles the most at your response.

“Well ladies let’s have a fabulous hen party shall we.” He hands go either side of his shirt which is held together with Velcro & her strips it off. Leaving just his bow tie on top. “My name is Max Lord…” & he then then turns around & his trousers are also Velcro & they come off too. Showing his peachy arse to you all, he’s just wearing a gstring “… your butler in the buff” screams fill the air & he blushes as he wiggles his bum, each cheek moving, not a blemish in sight.

“Wahay” one of the girls shouts”you did good girl”. Max then turns around so his bum is in Jessica’s face.

“Beautiful bride would you help me by removing my gstring, it’s rather uncomfortable” the next thing you all see is Jessica waving it in the air after it’s been taken off & she smacks his bum. “Very cheeky miss, bet you love a good spanking” Jessica turns red & Max then says he will be at our beck & call for drinks all afternoon & that he is happy to pose for pictures & be in party games, but to always ask before anyone touches him & that this works better with some boundaries.”I hate being the spoil sport but you all know what I mean” everyone nods & the party continues.

The games are going well & it’s been a lot of fun & Jessica is being spoiled by you, the girls & Max. You’re loving the fact that everyone’s having a good time. You not as tipsy as everyone else, you know you’ve got a schedule to keep to & certain things to do before you head out later tonight. You are clearing away some penis cake that you all just ate which was a sweet or salty surprise for everyone. As you get ready the beer pong, Max comes up to you & casually strokes your face.

“She looks like she’s having fun” he says nodding at Jessica.

“Yes, she wanted a stripper but I couldn’t afford one or get us booked up for the dream boys, so when I realised butlers in the buff was a thing I thought that was a fun idea” you say as you offer Max a slice of the left over cake.

“Well I’m glad you did, considering some partys I’ve gone to, everyone here is actually very respectful of me, but you all have dirty minds” he laughs before biting into the cake & his eyes light up. “Salty, it’s the salted caramel” you smirk & your eyes meet for a few seconds to long lingering as he sees your own chocolate eyes gaze into his.

“Im guessing this isn’t your main job?” You say “not that there’s anything wrong with it if it is” not wanting to insult his job.

“Oooh no I do this at the weekends. I love to do the themed parties, I’m guessing you realised that the hair is a wig?”

“Obviously”

“Well some places want a bit more of a show or more of a tease but a hen party & what you told me you wanted, it’s a nice chilled way to spend a Saturday afternoon, better than the boring usual 9 til 6, this pays well too”

“I know it does I’m the one who’s paying for you” you laugh.

“Really?” He smirks licking the crumbs from his long fat finger. “Well you must have a very important job that pays well, if you’re affording this as an extra bit of spice.” You don’t want to tell this man what you do for a living, he’d probably laugh for a week when he found out a senior board member of a prestigious advertising company had hired him. It’s not very good for PR.

“Is the wig doing it for you?” You’re shocked & aroused at his blunt question that’s come out of the blue. Your eyes however are now drawn to how he’s sucking the frosting off his large flat thumb. He’s teasing you trying to get you to open up a bit more. You’re also certain that he is seducing & that this isn’t an act that he puts on. There’s a genuine look in his eyes of desire for you.

“I…I…” you start to lean towards him & his hand trails down your neck, the thumb that had the frosting on is sticky as it does this. Lips that you shouldn’t kiss are just screaming out for an embrace. But this moment of silence is broken by a cheer in the room as someone downs their drink in 15 seconds. You both snap back into reality. The temptations of kissing has passed.

The rest of the party is fun & it gets to a quiz about a hens which Max hosts, his last job before you send him on his way & give him a rather large tip, especially as Hayley kissed one of his bum cheeks 10mins ago & Max had to remind her about boundaries. He still liked it but you wish that was you doing that not her.

“Question 8… which hen is not bringing a partner as a plus one to the wedding?” In unison everyone points at you & you almost choke on my Prosecco.

“Have I really been that single for that long?”

“Damn girl you need some dick”

“Yea maybe we can find a plus one for you when we go out tonight”

“You need a good seeing too”

everyone throws in their line of smutt, & you see Max laughing. But his eyes also look sadly at you. All the other girls are loved up, you’re the only single one here.

“Im sure that if the beautiful maid of honour wanted a man on her arm, she could find her lord to her own lady ship” Max declares & you laugh loudly, but also see in his eyes that he’s not kidding.

“She’s married to her job, she loves being in charge of…”

“Shhhh” you say & then hiccup the Prosecco finally hitting your system. You’re not as tipsy as the other girls but it is taking effect. “I mean if i met him, the one that you all keep going on about, you will all know don’t worry” you smile & down your drink desperate to move on to someone’s else. Your eyes have not left Max’s eyes. His chest & his bulge & bum might be what the other ladies are looking at but you are just looking at his pools of delight watching them dance & admiring the small smile on his face.

“Well maybe you should use my life motto for your current relationship situation…” Max states as he moves to the next question. He does this really tacky pose & point & says”…life is good but it can be better” his wig flapping about & everyone & you laugh.

“That such a bad tag line, that it’s good” you cry out & he laughs too, before moving onto his next card. Working in advertising you know what works & what doesn’t.

The girls are now all tidying up & re applying their make up. It’s been a fab hen party so far. Max left the party about 15mins ago & youve gone to go & re do your hair & get the treats ready for a night of karaoke & clubbing, which you left in your room. You step into your room, the smallest in the air bnb, & go to the bathroom to grab your hair brush & then are shocked as you open the door. Max is full frontal naked in the walk in shower & you are wondering how an apron that small kept him covered. You scream & then you hear Max scream, & you quickly shut the door. You’re panting heavily. You’re so aroused & your body is feral & crying out for a man’s touch. As your heart rate calms down, could have been seconds or hours later, out Max walks in a towel, just about covering everything.

“Sorry I should have said, I always shower before I leave, don’t want my actual clothes to be covered in baby oil & for them to be sticky. I just assumed…” Max is trying to talk to you but it’s more at you. You are looking at the droplets of water still on his skin. The fact that his hair is bouncy but not the curtains of the wig. The v line along with the happy trail going to what you want most right now. His penis in any of your holes”… are your listening? I said I was sorry, are you in shock?” You snap out of it as he says this.

“It’s my fault Max , I should have knocked & not just assumed, I’m sorry I didn’t check,I’m…” he steps towards you & his hand trails your cheek again like it did earlier, then down your neck & then his thumb goes to your lips.

“Shhh baby, no one’s come rushing to find you, is that the loudest you can scream?” He raises an eyebrow & you do the same back & you both smirk.”I’m guessing that’s a no?”

“Would you like to find out?” You whisper. Your lips part as you slightly lick them & his thumb. The next feeling is Max lips on yours. A sloppy wet kiss, as he holds you firmly & close to him. You don’t resist. Your hands explore his actual hair & you suddenly feel the towel drop onto your feet. His damp glistening naked body pressed against you.

“I’ve never done this with a client before”

“Technically I’m not…”

“Yes you are, you paid” he has a valid point. you go to step back but he pulls you in taking you mouth again, much more tender this time less of a hurry now you know how the other feels. “But there’s something about you, other than the bride you’re the only person I’ve truly thought about all night” he takes your hand which run over his chest. Touching all those abs that you’ve resisted all night. Your hand goes down the v shape, he wants you to touch. You hands stop just above the base.

“Max, if that is even your name,I can’t, you can’t, we shouldn’t, it’s exploitation”

“No it’s not baby, making you feel wanted, i do for free. You’ve already paid me for everyone else’s enjoyment tonight, don’t you think you deserve some fun too?” Max hands take yours & they grip his length & you look down watch his hand & yours stroke his impressive length, semi erect, readying for desire. “Oooh that feels good” Max’s body judders as he closes his eyes for a few minutes. Your dainty hands softly gliding up & down his shaft. Max is fully erect & then he remembers this is meant to be for your pleasure & enjoyment not his. He snaps out of it letting go of his penis & kisses you passionately. He can probably taste the Prosecco from earlier he’s that thorough.

“Do you consent?” He ask when you finally break. You nod eyes wide waiting to be commanded. He grips you chin harshly. “Words baby”.

“Yes Max, I consent” your eyes lock onto his, the charmer of the afternoon is now the seducer about to give you the ultimate pleasure. But what Max does next you’re not expecting but aren’t entirely surprised.

In a flash you’ve been turned around. You’re bent over the bed, & he kicks at your feet to spread your legs.Your body responding instantly. You hear a tearing noise.

“I hope you brought another pair of tights” max says as the noise continues. Luckily you have, you almost didn’t pack them yesterday night. He smacks your arse before he moves the gusset to the side of your knickers. Those large fingers trail against your sex. Your knickers from what had happened already are damp & it makes him chuckle. “Oooh have you been thinking of me all afternoon, have I kept you all pent up, since my earlier flirt?” You go to lift your head to say maybe but instead you moan & gasp. He’s breached your entrance in one thrust & it knocks all the wind out of you, surprising you, but you are ultimately happy & desperately needing to be satisfied. He stretches you & it feels exquisite.

“Fuck… Max”you moan before the next thrust which he somehow gets even deeper inside you. Your body jolts forward pushing you further across the bed before Maxs hands bring you back to his preferred position for you.

“Oooh baby, this cunts to die for. Oooh fucking hell.” you feel him thrust again. He’s hitting the sweet spot already as you grip onto the bedding. “6 month you said is that right?” He spanks your arse before he lifts your dress more. His pace already quick. You mumble a yes reply, as body craves air at this rigourous pounding you are already receiving . “Why would anyone dump you, this cunt is so tight, so good, now mine” he growls. His teeth grinding. If you could muster the strength to turn around & see his face you would see enraged passion in his face, so concentrated. He says this is for you but is it actually for him. He’s fast & the more you whimper moan & push back onto his cock the faster he goes.

“I want you…” max is panting. The slapping noise against your arse deafening as he ramps it up even more “… when your in the club tonight, checking out those guys, those vultures, to remember…” you let out a really deep moan as both your hands now cling onto the bed, as he slaps your arse again. “… that I fucked your cunt raw, that it’s me who you want to go home to tonight, not some pussy in a bar after an easy blow job” he snarls & pants as he says this. It’s turning you on so much, clamping around his penis ready to drench him & the bed to make him cum. You have no idea if he’s using protection or not.

“Fuck, fuck, fuckkkkk” you whine is drawn out with each hard thrust you’re saying this into the mattress, Max Lord is rampant & is giving you a feeling you’ve not had from sex in years. Lust is returning to your life.

“Oh god I…I…” Max swiftly withdraws his cock from you. “Face me!” It’s a command & you flip over. Your mound still on display as he kneels on the bed, pumping his penis,it’s next to your face. Those large hands looking normal size compared to his cock. “You consented…” before you can protest, he ejaculates. Hot splurges of cum drip onto your face, giving you a facial, your own hand on your clit trying to finish yourself off, but no matter how hard you try as your swallow his seed that’s gone in more places than just your mouth, you can’t. So much for your own pleasure you think. You are now wondering how many other singles girls this butler in the buff has fucked at the end of his entertainment. “Oooh fuckkkk” he moans as his eyes open & he sees your face glistening back from him covered in his essence. A smirk falls across his face as he sees the mess on yours as he slowly stops pumping. “Ooh you were a good maid of honour werent you.” You go to protest still a little in shock at having sex with a man you met 4hours ago & also disappointed that he didn’t finish you off.

“What… what was that all about?” But you don’t get to fully ask your question as he places his lips on yours, his thumb going over your cheek, wiping away some cum before he places that in your lips & you instinctively suck it. You know what men like this want.

“Pleasure” he says & winks before he leaves your side & rummages in his bag to clean his penis with a cloth that he dampens in the sink first, before he puts on his every day clothes as you clean yourself. You both do this in silence. Hardly making any eye contact. You’re hoping the girls had the music loud enough that they didn’t hear you. You’re also hoping Max is clean if any stds, you know you are. But if he’s doing this every weekend with one pretty girl per party who knows if he’s riddled, at least he pulled out you think, but that did deny you of your pleasure.

Max, who is now dressed & now you look a bit more normal, goes to leave before he stands in front of you, & takes your lips one last time.

“Remember girl, life is good but it can be better, I promise you will find your ultimate pleasure”

“Max if that is even your name I…” he shhh you before he gives you a passionate kiss. It feels more weird now he’s actually dressed as himself ready to leave than when he was in a butler in the buff or after he had given you a cum facial. & yet some how it also felt better. As you part the succulent kiss Max winks at you.

“Any wish you desire I can make come true” he picks up his bag, strokes your face & leaves the air bnb.

This is the exact moment Lucy comes to find you as you mumble the words after he’s gone completely “I wish you’d made me cum”

“Omg you didnt” Lucy exhales & you jump in shock.

“Well” you blush “I did, but it was more about him than me”

“Typical man” Lucy scoffs & makes sure you are okay before you head out for the most fun night a hen party could ever had.

There you sit in a reception of a new prospective client. A fast growing supplement company all about well-being & mental health as well. You had taken Monday & Tuesday off work to get over the hen shenanigans, the recovery was needed & you had spent the entire Saturday night at the bar flirting with men wishing they had been Max. When you got back to work on Wednesday you were told to go & see this company hands on & talk to their director, to seal the deal. Board members do this from time to time. You sit there in your dark blue dress & snazzy floral jacket before being escorted into the lift & taken to the 3rd floor to meet the owner. It’s all very cold & white & steal & clean this building. It’s not welcoming you know this may have to change with your pr input & advertising.

“Boss your 10am is here” his personal receptionist says as she knocks on the door & opens it & in you step & you do your little powerful walk forward & look up. You hand grips the glass you are holding.

“YOU!?” You exclaim. The side profile looking out of the window was all you needed to know who it was.

“Miss welcome I…” he catches you out the corner of his eye & he looks shocked too “what are you doing here?”

“No what are you doing here?” His receptionist looks really confused. You shake your head, is this a dream. You place your glass on the table along with your bag, your normal spiel for a welcome completely has left your mind.

“If you wouldn’t mind” he nods at his receptionist & ushers her out as he walks towards you. “His im Maxwell Lord, Director of CliMax, our motto is your life is good…”

“But it can be better” you say in unison as your hands professionally shake & turn your senses up, sending shivers down your spine. An awkward silence fill the air as you both make eye contact, those eyes are just as beautiful & seducing. They make your heart beat race. He then smile & you both giggle.

“Is your name really Max Lord?” These are the first words out of your mouth.

“Yes it is & is so corney it’s perfect for an entertainer name too, people just believe it’s made up.” He smirks before he goes to his door to lock it & then asks you to sit down on his leather sofa. Unlike the rest of the building his office is vibrant & it’s full of 80s pop culture references. You smile at the Rio Duran Duran art work, noticing it must be an original as you take your seat. Max sits on the other end of the sofa.

“I’m sorry” you both then say in unison after a few more minutes of awakened silence before then both doing an awkward chuckle only to then be like no you go first to each other. You eventually then just blurt out.

“I’m sorry I walked in on you, I’m sorry I had sex with you & im sorry I just let you leave” you blurt out as you lower your head. “If you don’t want to work with us now I completely understand, if you do I can make sure someone else is your main contact other than…”

“I requested you as my contact 3 weeks ago, long before I met you on Saturday or looked at who booked me for the party” Max states & you look up. His eyes are genuine he’s not lying about this. “Part of the reason I want to work with the company & to be your client is because I saw the amazing work you personally did for that drinks company, I had a friend who worked with them who said how attentive you were. It took me a good month to track down where you were to organise an appointment & when I spoke to the person last week about this meeting I asked for you & no one else, I’d met other people but I want to work with you.” Your advertising & Pr skill are exceptional & you feel very flattered. But you already know how much of a charmer this man is, you fell for it on Saturday afternoon. But now he’s in a smart suit & tie he’s even more irresistible.

“Thank you mr Lord, but what about…”

“My fault entirely…” he interrupts holding his hands up apologetically. His eyes you can tell are telling the truth. “I’d flirted, I shouldn’t have kissed you, but damn you were so fucking good, best pussy I’ve had in years” you smirk a little, you ex never gave you that compliment.

“So much for it being about my pleasure though…” you say back mockingly, & his face turns red & stern from embarrassment.

“Did you not cum?”

“No Max, I didn’t, as you covered my face in your sperm I was busy trying to get off but…”

“So those noises weren’t you cumming? Oh my god! I am so sorry, you were being loud & clamping, I thought you were done” Max eyes dart around the room unsure what he should really say. “Wait does this mean other women have faked it with me?”

“I can’t speak for other ladies max, I’m sure all your hens at…”

“You’re the first girl I’ve had sex with at one of those parties ever. I’m actually thinking of resigning as I went too far” Max again is telling the truth & you can see the sorrow in his face that he didn’t make you cum & he took advantage of your situation of sexual frustration.

“Unless you business really takes off max, you shouldn’t resign, its all the girls have talked about all weekend & the last 3 days on the group chat, you were phenomenal” he Scoots towards you on the sofa.

“They don’t know how phenomenal though.” That thumb your been thinking off, graces your lips as they part & you make eye contact with him. “Is this going to be awkward because I want to be your clients, & I want you personally?” He asks. You don’t answer & kiss Max deeply after the trail across your lips. A more fuller passionate kiss than you experienced at the weekend. The way his hand glides through your hair, down your neck & gently squeezes your shoulder.

“Well technically this time your paying me”

“Id say we’re even” you both are panting before your kiss continues for a few minutes. Your hands trail across his broad shoulders, his silk jacket suddenly being tossed across the room.

“Come on, I promised you pleasure, I owe you at least one orgasm” Max says as he scoops you into his lap for some more intimate kissing. The way his lips feel against yours, it makes your body tremble as his hand goes underneath your dress.

“Max this isn’t very professional what if…” your head being near his ear is helpful as you speak quietly as you gasp for air.

“I’m the boss, I can fire people if they gossip, you on the other hand, you ignite my fire” he is kissing you neck in a frenzy as he slowly undoes every button on your blue dress, exposing your black silk underwear. “My fire is more than ignited now” his hands trace across your lingerie rubbing the material straight across your clit. You bite your bottom lip & try not to moan but on his return swipe you can’t control it.

“Max, make me yours” you shake your jacket & dress off, before your hands start on his shirt.

“From the second we flirted at that party, I’ve wanted you” Max then lowers you onto the sofa, his fingers in a waistband of your knickers as you squirm. “Do you want me?” He says. It’s his way of asking for consent. His eyes tell you he’s not messing around.

“Fuck max, I do” your knees rise as your hands join his to remove your knickers & he looks at the arousal inside them.

“Naughty girl, wanting to fuck a prospective client, do you do this with all of them?” Max asks & you look shocked.

“Of course no! I’m…” you then see the look on Max’s face, this is the exact situation you were in on Saturday afternoon when you accused him.

“Didn’t think so” Max says before he licks his middle & index finger before he slowly inserts his long delicious digits inside you making you moan. The thumb you have loved tracing across your lips, is now stimulating your clit as you rive, your hips have a mind of their own responding to his fingers. “You take me so well baby, I told you your cunt was perfect.” Max then starts moving his fingers curling them inside you, making sure your clit is getting enough friction.He’s not looking at your pussy anymore. He’s in love with the facial expressions & the noises of desire coming from your mouth. Every ooooh or pant is making his trousers tighter.

“M…mmmm…Max” you just about muster as your eyes lock with his as he licks his lips.

“Did you wish for pleasure?” max asks.

“Yes I wanted to… to… cum”

“With me?” he smirks before adding a third finger, your back arching up off the sofa as he thrusts the fingers in & out of you. It’s squelching, he can tell how close you are.

“Yes…” you say before you can feel all of your senses lose control. “On your cock”you then moan as the fingers are withdrawn & Max’s belt & trousers are around his ankles. He then flops his large meaty cock out & produces a condom which he tears open with his teeth.

“No facials today my sweet, that was a special treat” your legs spread, your arousal dripping from your entrance, desperate to be filled by Max. He drags his protected penis through your slick before entering you slower than he did on Saturday. He watches as your body tenses & then slowly relax & he looks at how well you take him. He licks his thumb which still smells of your essence & then proceeds to continue attending you your clit. As his hips start moving slower than they did in that moment of passion.

“Ooh fuck this feel better than it did on Saturday. Your cunt is the best. Oooh god.” Max growls his eyes closing for a few moments as your hips meet his in rhythm. You take your bra off & one of your hands starts to play with your breasts while the other strokes Max neck. When he opens his eyes & sees them exposed before him he starts to move faster. A devilish smile creeps across his face.

“I’m guessing you like my breasts” you pant as you prop yourself up a little. Your feet that are wrapped around his arse moving his underwear down his thighs.

“Baby, my wish was to see your naked body enjoying itself, you’ve made it come true” the words are straitened from his lips. He lies flat on top of you, your body sinking into the sofa, his hands all up in your hair. You can feel his hairs all standing on end. But you can feel more the pounding of his penis inside your. Rigorous & forceful. So big, bigger than you’ve had before. Each gasp & moan is a compliment. You didn’t know this would be what got you off but you never want it to end.

“I have a new wish…” you moan but before you can complete it Max lips meet yours. He nips on your bottom lip as he kisses you, you allow his tongue to take over. Your body’s now in complete synchronicity as you roll together & he switches you around so you’re on top.

“Don’t wish it if you don’t want it…” he jokes as he lifts your up slightly, now your sweat is dripping on him. He smacks your arse as you grip at his chest, it’s slicker than when he had all that baby oil on him. He’s fucking you hard & fast. Almost at at electric pace, watching your body succumb to desire & passion.

“I wish to only ever have you fuck me” you blurt out & then you moan deeply. One hand tossing his hair. The other furiously gaining friction on your clit. His hands on your hips helping you roll faster.

“Tell me baby. Tell me. Tell me you want me”

“Fuck Max, I only want you. Fuck fuck fuck” you scream & can’t hold back anymore. You explode, the orgasm ripping through you, turning your world upside down. Cumming hard & Max can feel it. The way your body shudders as he looks at you. The way you clamp down hard & your eyes roll into the back of your head as passion takes over. It’s enough to make him cum, filling the condom a few seconds later.

“Oooooh Fuck girl god!”

After your come downs, Max sits up & holds you for a few minutes, gently moving the sweaty streaks of your hair off of your face. Your own hand still trailing up & down his glistening chest.

“This isn’t going to make this awkward is it Max” you ask & look up at him as he then kisses your forehead.

“Why would it be awkward?”

“I’m going to be working very closely with you, I need to know everything you want, I need to assist you & make sure you make the right decision”

“I’d say you’re now even more over qualified” he jokes. “You know me better than anyone, I know you’re not going to screw me over” you pull away from him slightly.

“Was that a bad sex joke?” You raise an eyebrow.

“Surely you know now, that I’m the king of bad puns.”

“Or the lord”

“Ha” he chuckles. “See we’re meant to be with each other, you’re just as cheesy as me” he gives you a playful slap & you pout. His cock twitches at that pout. “Don’t make me want to fuck you again.”

“Why? Did you not enjoy it?” You ask.

“girl I now know what a real orgasm for a woman is, & I want to experience as many of them as I can with you” he is hand goes to his cock leisurely stroking it again. Your eyes light up as he sighs a little.

“Well I did wish to only have sex with you”

“Then I intend to make that come true” he says as he then sees your hand join his to pump his shaft. “You need to be careful with your wishes though baby, don’t want your mouth to wish them all away.”

“No my mouth has many more uses than that” you wink & smirk & Max’s eyes go wide with desire. His hand helping your down as he strokes your hair as you being your oral assault on his penis. His own gasps of delight spluttering from his own mouth as he watching you bob around his fat cock.

The wedding was beautiful & your maid of honour speech went down a treat. You stand by the bar & you hear some of the fellow hens gossip as you get your Prosecco.

“She’s got an evening guest?”

“I thought she was single”

“Was it a guy at a bar”

“Is she just getting a friends to come”

“She looks more relaxed, she’s definitely getting some dick”

That’s what you’ve heard for the last hour. Even Jessica was shocked. None of them have met this mystery man or so they believe.

“So…” Lucy finally has the balls to ask you directly. “When is he arriving?”

“He had to work but I know he’s on his way”

“Ha sure, you’ve just done this to tease us, come on who is he, because he’s clearly had an effect on you.”

“You know what Lucy he has… “a few of the hens have now moved towards this conversation. “…I mean…” you can see him walking in making his way towards you a smug look on his face & your own smile beam back & the other girls haven’t noticed. “…life is good…”

“But it can be better” Max finishes & the ladies all turn around jaws hitting the floor. “Hens how are you? I’m Max” stunned silence fills this section of the reception. Jessica from across the room can even sense stuffs going on. Max walks through the ladies & wraps his arm around you, before his thumb once again glides across your lips. “I make wishes come true” he hold your face before kissing you deeply in front of everyone. They all looked shocked but happy & also a little jealous.

“& this time neither of us are a client either” you say before the girls all burst with excitement & say how happy they are for you both. You finally got your one, you knew it was real & you wish for many more treasured memories & passionate moments to come in your lives together.

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