In keeping with my "What if this other story but literati?" tendencies, here's a modern Pride & Prejudice AU.
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The Bennett Sisters
A literati pride and prejudice AU that I have no intention of actually writing.
Setting:
A city in 2020s America. The Bennett sisters have been musically talented their whole lives, but it took being stuck at home during the pandemic for them to start a band. They started out playing shows online, then small outdoor gigs. They have a small but growing fan base.
Characters:
The sisters:
Jane Bennett, played by Lane Kim, drummer extraordinaire
Elizabeth Bennett, played by Rory Gilmore, bassist, co-song-writer
Mary Bennett, played by Paris Gellar, keyboardist, co-song-writer
Lydia Bennett, played by Louise Grant, lead singer
Kitty Bennett, played by Madeline Lynn, guitar
Other characters:
Mrs Bennett, played by Lorelei Gilmore, their ambitious manager who wants her daughters to succeed.
Mr Bennett, played by Christopher Hayden, a music company executive who works with his daughters as well as many other bands. A largely absentee father who nonetheless made sure the house was full of music
Charles Bingley, played by Dave Rygalski, an up-and-coming artist who comes to town to record his next album
Fitzwilliam (Will) Darcy, played by Jess Mariano, Bingley’s best friend and successful singer-songwriter
Wickham, played by Tristan DuGrey, will threaten the band’s future when he convinces Lydia to run off with him
Mr Collins, played by Logan Huntzburger, a businessman running a popular music streaming service that is buying out the music company Mr Bennett works for. Refers to art as “content”
Mr and Mrs Gardiner, played by Sookie St James and Jackson Belleville, take Elizabeth on a short vacation
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darling, honey
(tristan dugray)
a/n: i feel like i wrote this in some sort of trance. it happens. also it’s my birthday, so be nice. enjoy. <3
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there was a very distracting tapping coming from the direction of tristan dugray. in fact, there had been a very distracting tapping coming from the direction of tristan dugray for the last 30 minutes you’d both been sat in the library, and he wouldn’t stop no matter how many times you gave him a look you truly wished could kill. you knew he knew it was bothering you- he always knew, yet refused to change whatever he was doing that was driving you so far up the wall you’d positively made it through the 2nd floor ceiling. he seemed to take a special pleasure in it. you, however, found your pleasure in throwing tightly rolled paper wads at his head. sometimes you threw pens or erasers if he was being particularly annoying. you had good aim.
today was more of an entire pencil case sort of day; you had 2 essays and a book report due in the coming week and you were not going to be able to focus with him making such an effort to bother you. what he was even doing in the library in the first place was a mystery to you, since the whole time he’d been in there he’d only used his pen to tap on the desk and his book wasn’t even open to take notes from. when you thought about it, would it really surprise you if he had allotted his thursday evening to bothering you? not one bit.
‘do you have nothing better to do than this?’ you announced, catching shocked or confused looks from the few students around. rory, who you studying with, didn’t flinch; it took quite the scene to pull her from her work. a scene which (unbeknownst to you at that moment) you were about to cause.
tristan looked around in mock confusion. ‘who, me?’
‘yes, you,’ you huffed, walking up to his desk.
‘what am i doing to offend you, darling?’
you grimaced. ‘you know exactly what you’re doing, honey.’
everyone in the library had their eyes on you now, including rory and the librarian who was clearly struggling with an internal conflict between asking you to stop raising your voices and keeping out of it.
‘do i?’ he asked, retaining the fake perplexity.
‘yes.’
there was a beat of silence, pregnant with your exasperation.
‘well in that case,’ he said with a sickening fake sweetness, ‘i better head out.’
he swiftly collected his things into his bag, holding his open plastic water bottle. as he walked towards the exit, he pretended to trip on his shoes and diligently spilled it’s contents down your grey chilton sweater.
‘you asshole!’ you cried, no-so-lightly pushing him away from you. you looked down at the pale grey cotton turning smoky before storming out, giving tristan another firm shove on your way.
it was an uncomfortably long walk to the nearest bathroom, and the discomfort was heightened by the sound of footsteps following you the whole way. they followed you into the bathroom, and you tried to ignore their owner as you set about drying yourself with some sad-looking toilet paper.
his burning gaze forced you to speak after only a few seconds.
‘tristan, this is the girl’s bathroom. not only are you not a girl, you’re an asshole. get out,’ you snapped, looking at him in the mirror with the dirtiest look on your face you could muster, though they often came with ease looking at tristan. you continued to dab at your sweater with increased aggression.
‘you should take your sweater off,’ he unhelpfully suggested.
your face redded and you looked at him in the mirror again, then around the bathroom to see if there was anyone else in there that could have heard him. it was empty, of course. ‘excuse me?’
he smirked. ‘the water’s probably soaking through it, you should take it off so your shirt doesn’t get wet too.’
it irritated you that he had a point; you reached for the hem of your sweater then realised he was still watching you. you motioned for him to turn around but he didn’t even blink- he kept staring, a suggestive gleam in his eye. it stayed there gleaming as you removed the sweater and dropped it haphazardly on the counter beside the sink. it stayed there after still as you dabbed the tissue at the tiny water mark on your shirt where it had in fact soaked through, though it was showing to be unfaltering.
‘i don’t think you’ll get that off.’
‘you put it there.’
‘how very sorry i am.’
‘shut up tristan.’
‘make me.’
‘fuck off.’
he stepped further towards you, an electric current suddenly sparked alive in the air- or the very depths of your stomach.
he lowered his voice to an admittedly sexy low whisper. ‘maybe we should take that off too.’
‘take what off,’ you replied softly, mind suddenly clear of all signs of intelligent life.
‘your shirt, silly. the water’s soaking through to your skin. you’ll catch a cold,’ he removed your tie and started undo your top few buttons at a painfully slow pace. ‘i think we should take it off, huh?’
you made a murmur of acknowledgment and he guided you both backwards into a stall, locking the door behind you both. you couldn’t have stopped if you wanted to; your body had a mind of its own since apparently yours had stopped working.
‘god i hate you,’ you moaned, trying to resist the urge to fall into him further as you regained the ability to string thoughts together. his hands further unbuttoned your shirt, his mouth moving to your newly exposed collarbones. he left little purple marks as he trailed towards your lacy bra. you were finding it harder to catch your breath. ‘i hate you, i hate you, i hate you.’
‘sure you do, princess,’ tristan murmured between kisses. he allowed his hand to slide up your body, starting at your thigh and softly trailing up to cup your boob. you moaned again involuntarily.
‘stop, tristan, someone’s going to hear us,’ you whimpered as his spare hand traced teasingly up your thigh.
‘ask me to stop again when you’re not moaning.’
‘i’m not mo-oooh god,’ you sighed as a finger gently stroked the fabric of your underwear. it applied a gentle pressure, making you really moan.
you allowed yourself to bathe in your lust, appreciating the now welcome feeling of his fingers, until somehow over your racing heartbeat you heard footsteps enter the bathroom.
‘tristan,’ you whispered.
he looked up at you, then towards the stall door. you exchanged panicked looks before rory’s voice broke the silence.
‘y/n?’
you pushed tristan’s hand from under your skirt and began to button your shirt. tristan smirked cockily; you resisted the urge to push him. ‘rory?’
‘are you ok? i brought your stuff in case you wanted to leave,’ she asked innocently. poor mary, clueless as to the sounds that had previously plagued the air.
‘yeah i’m fine, i just need a minute. could you wait outside?’
‘sure. hey, you want a lift? i can call my mom.’
‘no, it’s ok, my car’s in the parking lot.’
‘alright, i’ll be outside.’
you listened to her walk out, closing the door gently behind her.
tristan held back another smirk.
‘i hate you,’ you reminded him.
‘you know i’ll never believe you.’
‘ok fine,’ you replied as you unlocked the stall door. ‘i firmly dislike you.
he leaned in for a kiss, which you reciprocated. it felt uncannily natural.
‘i’ll take it. can we ... erm ... you know,’ he said, running a hand through his hair.
‘i don’t,’ you puzzled. ‘what?’
‘continue this some time?’ he answered quickly.
‘not if you’re planning on pouring another bottle of water over me to get it.’
‘it was an accident!’ you gave him a disbelieving glare. ‘i won’t do it again, i’m sorry. darling.’
‘well then perhaps this shall be continued. honey.’
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