The Lizzie Bennet Diaries. This is a pure excuse for some Darcy!Lizzie smut. Probably out of character, but a girl needs to have some fun. Forgive me for possible grammar mistakes and spelling because English is not my native language, so suggestions and corrections are very welcome.

Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters!

IMPULSE

Lizzie Bennet was in rage. After Darcy stormed out of Collins & Collins, probably anxious to go home and to watch hers so called videos, she stayed there for a while, trying to wrap her head around what just have happened.

She was shocked and confused and hurt and feeling humiliated and of course, angry. How dare he, to come here to look at her face and say so many terrible things about her family, after everything what he has done? And he does admit and reiterate his opinion on her beloved sister Jane?

This arrogant prick seems not to get tired of destroying her mood, always doing things to enervate her, like breathe. But this time he went too far, she wasn't prepared to deal with his absolutely outrageous declaration of feelings while providing more insults to her and her family as well.

And she can't forgive herself for not slapping Darcy right in that selfish face of him. Lizzie wasn't prepared for such a delusional moment. But she won't rest until she says everything what she thinks about him, in a more adequate way.

If Darcy thinks that she was eloquent about her hate and disgust towards him, he's about to be surprised. She was decided to get him out of guard, he had had time to prepare himself for what he came to say, and now so was she.

Even after the whole night, she couldn't sleep, thinking, rethinking and creating different answers to every sentence that he did say. When the sun first arrived, Lizzie was sure that she needed to find him and say everything. For her own sanity.

She called Fitz to find out where Darcy could be, and after great persuasion skills, she found out that he was in a fancy hotel, and using Fitz's words: "to revalue some details about his personal life".

She laughed at the idea of him, on the floor drinking vodka from the bottle and listening Mumford and Sons on repeat, but them Lizzie remembered how boring he is to do something more than stare at a wall after being rejected.

She discovered the room that he was staying and prepared herself for the impact of getting out of a luxurious hotel room by the police.

After all, it could be a possibility, she was sure that after hurting Darcy's pride, he would feel very insulted by her presence. However, if she would be able to say a small portion of what she wants to him, she would be in peace already.

She was sure too that he would sue her anyway, after the not so kind words that she provided about his being on her vlog.

In the hotel, Fitz was waiting for her, and having no idea of her bad intentions (she told Fitz that she was wrong about Darcy and wanted to talk to him, doing a surprise visit. Lizzie knew that Darcy won't hold that on Fitz, they seemed very close friends).

Fitz helped her by distracting the receptionist, using his charm. At the first opportunity, she got into the elevator and, nervously, pressed the button to his floor.

The moment that the elevator's doors closed, she felt her blood pressure dropping dangerously, her knees felt weak and she supported the weight of her body on the wall.

What was she doing here? What she's about to? "This can't end well", she thought, her impulsive nature proving to be a problem again, but this time, she's about to go too damn far.

When the doors opened, she brought all the energy and strength that she could have, to get out of that elevator surrounded by leather and enter in a huge hall with great paintings on the walls and elegant furniture.

At the end of the hall, she saw the double-leaf door of his supposed bedroom, an opulent door that could perfectly symbolize the oppressing feelings over her shoulders and how badly she was trying to hide her panic. But it was too late to give up. She bit her lip and said to herself:

"Fuck it!"

She knocked twice at the door and didn't was surprised by hers almost lack of voice:

"Room service!" She didn't have a plan, she was simply improvising.

That was it, she has crossed the line and there's no coming back now. After a few seconds, feeling like hours, she heard steps towards the door, and the knob moving. When the door was opening, she heard Darcy's deep voice:

"But I didn't ask for r-"

And when his eyes met hers, he didn't finish the sentence.

"Elizabeth? W-What are you doing here?" He asked with a concern and confusion in his voice.

Lizzie had great pleasure in seeing how awkward he was, almost fearing what is about to come. She savored this moment more than she should have.

"I'm here to get all what I'm feeling out of my system"

She said it with such an offense on her voice that it was like tearing Darcy's soul. He couldn't believe how much the girl that he loved, actually hated him.

Then she did make a move to get into his bedroom and he didn't opposed it, getting out of the way, so she could pass (what has shocked her, because she was expecting to shout only some insults across the hall while the police would be dragging her out by her arms).

He kept staring at her, she could see a little of despair in his eyes. And in spite of the troubled look, he seemed incredibly relaxed, like if nothing could disturb him. Maybe because she has never saw him in such common clothes, a dark jeans and a grey t-shirt, no shoes…

And his almost untouchable aura, made she hate him even more. Lizzie was hoping to see him suffering or at least worried, but she guessed now that douchebags don't have feelings.

Lizzie turned her back to him, looking around to his huge room, bigger than her entire house but very minimalist in its furniture; only a square shape couch, a table with two chairs, an arm chair and a huge bed, everything in shades of grey, black and white.

The bed was perfectly made, hinting that he didn't have slept, but probably robots don't sleep.

There were paper sheets on the table as if he was writing some work (maybe a letter?) and then she froze at the sight of his laptop opened, the screen paused in one of her videos, in which she is wearing a newsie hat and a bow tie.

She needed to suppress the wish to, nervously, laugh at the ridiculous situation.

Lizzie was dismissed of her thoughts by Darcy's words, echoing in the enormous and cold room:

"Go ahead if you need to insult me more…" He knew for a fact that she didn't come visit him because she changed her mind, he had watched hours of her videos, he heard how much she dislikes him, too many times.

His voice brought her out of any imagination or thinking. She turned around to look at him, and there was so much hate and darkness into her eyes, contrasting with the angelical green floral dress that she was wearing.

"Oh, I'll give you plenty insults, don't worry!" - Her voice was loud and a little shaken, but he could make no mistake of how angry she was.

Almost as if something has mysteriously pressed her throat, she started to say how much she hated him, near screaming, how much he hadn't the right to say what he has said to her, how humiliated she was and that she won't let anyone make her feel that way.

The more she talked, yelled and agitated her hands to express herself, the more quiet Darcy seemed to be.

For the first time, he took his eyes from her face and stared at his feet but this was his only movement since she entered in his room, and he didn't say a single word to interrupt her nor justified himself.

And that was just like gasoline for this already pretty burning fire. She lost it, and walked towards him, two hands hitting on his chest:

"Why don't you say anything? You freaking insensitive statue!"

Not a word from him again, he kept looking down. Then, she hit him again, harder on his chest with both her hands, Darcy losing his balance and falling on the bed, bringing Lizzie with him, over him.

The surprise of them both, so close of each other with Darcy laying with his back on the bed and Lizzie sitting over him, have managed to let them both without words or movement for a while, but his permanently lack of reaction brought back her fury all over again. She couldn't help but slap his arrogant look right from his face.

This time, despite the shock, he managed to defend himself, trying to absorb her punches, using his arms as a shield. He could have put an end on this madness. Darcy is far stronger and bigger than her.

But he couldn't risk to hurt her, and he knew that she needed this, that she needed deal with her frustration in some way, and nobody deserved her rage more than himself. He let her hurt him, he let her do what she came to do until she was so tired and drained that every punch looked more like a caress.

All what Darcy could hope, is that it would make her feel better. That her feelings of anger and hate could pass from her to him, to give her some peace of mind. He knew that he deserved this and more, for been so stupid and clueless.

She proffered some more kind words like "I hate you" and "fuck you" and then she let herself breathe a little and to contemplate the situation while she was finally calming down.

"Why don't you say something?" - She asked him, a little defeated but with indignation transpiring in her voice.

"Because now I'm more useful to you, by hearing what you have to say" - Darcy said it so calmly, that it couldn't have a more contrary effect on her.

And just like that, her blood was acid running through her veins again.

"Oh, now you're a gentleman, the better person in the situation?" - She said, making sure that every word would be tempered with sarcasm.

His answer was quite expected:

"I am a gentleman. You may not agree or know me very well, but I am…"

"Really, that's why you didn't slap me back?" - She asked him, like if it was a challenge.

"I would never hit a woman. And I would never touch one without her permission".

His arms was loosely over the bed, above his head. She looked at his forearms, the ones that he has used to protect himself from her punches, his skin was red in many spots, the result of her fury attack.

Lizzie thought that she would feel pleased by his possible pain, but she almost felt sorry for him.

"So, I can do whatever I want with you and you won't touch me?" - She said with a tone that he didn't understand, as always.

When he gave thought to the implications of her words, Darcy looked incredibly alarmed. "Finally a reaction", she thought.

Suddenly, Lizzie saw an opportunity to getting him out of his comfort zone, she felt an wildly need to play with him. If this is how she could shake Darcy and make him uncomfortable, so be it! She will take what she could get. After all, their situation was already absurd: she was straddling William Darcy on his bed.

Closing her eyes with her long lashes, she took a deep breath and lowered her body, putting more pressure on his lap, bringing her mouth to his ear and repeating herself after his lack of answer at the first time:

"So, I can do whatever I want with you and you won't touch me?"

"As I've said, I would never dare touch you. Only if you wanted me to"

He was so serious about what he was saying, that she couldn't help but laugh at him, throwing her head back.

"I'll never want such thing!" She said with a lot of disdain and certainty.

Lizzie brought her body back to her initial position, her backs straight, sitting on his lap with more pressure that she needed and she really appreciated his reaction, how he was shivering under hers legs.

Lizzie pressed harder her thighs around him, her ass moving slowly, making Darcy's heart almost stop with panic in his eyes.

Forcing her body once again, she felt him hardening under her, and the notion that she knew what was happening to him, just made Darcy more desperate, his blue eyes darkening and beyond shock and incredibility, she saw lust inside them.

He looked at her in such an intense way that seemed like he was staring at her soul.

She didn't know if it was that momentary power over him that she took, or the total control over his body and primitive reactions that she was having, or how desirable he was making her feel, but that was encouraging enough for Lizzie.

In the most impulsive and crazy thing that she had ever done, she slowly took off her dress, button by button.

When he finally saw, or better, computed what she was doing, Darcy's heart almost stopped. He never thought that his morning would begin like this. He couldn't handle this, he wouldn't be able to keep his manners, his gentleman promise to her. He started to getting up, to run away from her by any costs, but she shoved him down to the bed again:

"You won't go anywhere, Darcy" - She was too damn determined.

Lizzie tossed her dress on the floor, straddling Darcy just in hers black bra and panties.

He was pretty sure that he would die right there and right now. Her body was stunning, her perfect milky skin, he only could wonder how soft and amazing it would be to touch her, to kiss every inch of her.

His confused look, was the most amazing thing for her, Lizzie was enjoying very much in having this arrogant man, always in control of his planned life, here, with this hopeless look, begging for her with his eyes. She was drunk with the power…

"L-Lizzie, please, I'm not that strong, please stop it now, I can't assure you anything anymore"

He seemed really disappointed with himself, learning how weak he was, under Lizzie Bennet's charms. But for Christ's sake, he was only a man, having this gorgeous woman in lingerie over him, on his bed; it should guarantee forgiveness to any healthy man.

She looked around and saw his tie over other clothes on the chair, next to the bed. It was the black skinny tie that he wore the day before, she remembered. Lizzie lowered herself again, sighing in his ear, making every part of his body aware of her presence:

"Don't worry Mr. Darcy. I'll help you keep your manners. I don't wanna be responsible for your failure in chivalry…"

Then, she got out of the bed and looked at him teasing again: "Don't go anywhere!"

Darcy looked at her like if he was bewitched, like he couldn't move even if he wanted to. She was totally in control of his life and he could swear that she was in control of everything else in the universe too.

She took the tie and came back to sit over him again, making him shiver with the intensity of her body and his feelings. Lizzie grabbed his hands and tied to the headboard. He made a face as if it was too tight, but she was hoping that it could hurt a little bit. She gave then a satisfied grin, looking down at him.

"Lizzie, what are you doing?" He said it in a hurried husky voice

"I'm attempting to have some fun, since you made my last days a living hell, don't you think that I need some compensation?"

Without a warning, Lizzie took off her bra, leaving her breasts to breathe at the tense atmosphere.

There was a lump at his throat, he swallowed hard between gasps, holding his breath like he had just dived in the ocean. An ocean of pale skin and auburn dark hair.

"Oh Lizzie, please, let me touch you" - He begged, never wanting something more in his life.

"No, William! I said that I will have some fun, not you".

Darcy wasn't sure why, but having Lizzie pouring his first name through her lips, was even more arousing than seeing her naked…

She traveled her hand from her hair to her neck, down slowly through her body, stopping on her breasts to touch them in a hypnotic way, as if she was in her shower or alone in her room, like he was not even there.

She brought one hand down to her waist line, and slid it to under her underwear and Darcy almost passed out at this point. He was just repeating in his mind: "please don't do this, please don't, I won't survive".

But it was too late, she started to touch herself in an playful carefree way, moaning and stroking herself genteelly, making some incredibly delicious noises. Involuntarily, he forced his hands over the headboard, hoping to free his hands.

It was tied too firmly, he felt the fabric burning the skin of his wrists but he didn't care, he needed to feel something else than this insane desire for her, this longing for touch her, to taste her, to be inside her and make she feel what he's feeling, to show her how he loved her and how much he has waited to see her in that way, but not like this, not tied up to the bed, unable to take her in his arms and kiss her.

Her breathing became more erratic and she opened her eyes and looked directly to his, holding his intense gaze, giving him a tiny smile, enjoying the look on his face, the look that said that he could kill to have her.

She came undone, one hand on his chest for some balance, unable to suppress the moans and the strong tremble of her body.

Darcy was absolutely mesmerized by the view. He, watching Lizzie having so much pleasure, was the most beautiful thing that he had ever saw.

He knew that this was her show, that he had nothing to do with her pleasure (she has done all by herself after all) however this didn't make him feel less blessed for having such an opportunity of being her private audience. She fell on his chest, laying flat over him, her legs entangling with his and he almost felt as if she will stay there forever, breathing on his neck. Making his whole body vibrate, fearing the moment of her eventual departure.

She brought her mouth next to his ear again, and while she was untying him, Lizzie said:

"I hope that I have taught you to not mess with me. And by the way, thank you for letting me express myself so eloquently"

"I'm glad that I could serve you and bring you some satisfaction" - He said in an alarming unironically way.

She gave him a very sarcastically look, put her dress and panties back on and left without looking back.

He stayed laid there for several minutes, staring at the ceiling, asking himself if this was another one of his sex dreams with Lizzie Bennet. Until he looked to the side and saw her laced black bra, an irrefutable prove that this was not a mere fantasy.

Darcy was at least relieved that he could breathe again, but at the same time he felt a deep sorrow, the room so empty and intimidating after she left.

He was still incredibly hard, so Darcy got up feeling a little dizzy, and proceeded to getting rid of his jeans and boxers, heading to the bathroom of his suite. A cold shower was the only thing that he could do now.

He let the water fall on his shoulders, trying to wash her beautiful face off of this mind, when he heard the door opening by a flushed Lizzie, amused at the sight of him naked.

She looked at him, coyly, stripping her clothes for William Darcy one more time:

"I'm not exactly satisfied, Darcy, not yet"

To be continued...