PAIN BECOMES PLEASURE
Passion + pleasure + lust + betray + cheating + loneliness = love n = love 4ever - pain 4ever. Future-fic. Really angsty.
DISCLAIMER: I don't own Gossip Girl. Never have, never will.
Suddenly he's pushing her against the wall. Her back hits it.
It hurts.
The pain becomes pleasure.
Their mouths are pressing together, savouring the feeling.
Vanilla and scotch… what a twisted mix.
You and Chuck are two of the most twisted people I know.
Plot for fun, destruct people for entertaining.
Playing the game… Love is a game, feelings are a game… Life is a game: you just have to make a move and hope it's the right one.
Happiness does not seem to be on the menu.
Love doesn't seem to be on the menu. It may be a daily dish.
Sweet, but it doesn't last forever…. Try it once, you can never go back.
We loved each other. Then you broke my heart.
Love destructs, love hurts.
Love is chemistry; you need the two right elements, or it will all blow up in your face.
Vanilla + Scotch = not the right mix.
Exceptions exist.
They maybe don't bring success at last, but in the middle they create something else, something able to create fire.
Passion: passion that burns, passion that freezes, PASSION.
Somehow two wrongs make one twisted right.
Now his tongue is ravishing her neck, biting it, nipping it, sucking it, leaving marks, creating scars.
It almost hurts.
The pain becomes pleasure.
His hot tongue is drawing circles on her stomach.
They realise they aren't even completely naked.
Skirt hooked up around her waist, zipper pulled down is haste.
She rips off his shirt… Buttons fly.
Her hands are grabbing his chest hair, pulling it. He moaned.
It hurts, a bit.
The pain becomes pleasure.
Passion, lust, pain, love.
Her hands are buried in his soft hair, his hands are cupping her ass, her legs are wrapped around his waist, his lips are soft and demanding, hers are sweet.
He unhooks her bra, her nipples are hard.
He's biting sucking them, biting them.
It slightly hurts.
The pain becomes pleasure.
She's now cupping his erection, moving her hands the way she knows he loves.
Everything is so messed up, so wrong, so right (?).
The right kind of wrong.
They aren't going to make it to bed.
Maybe next time…
Is there going to be a next time?
He's suddenly entering her.
She gasps at the feeling, he moans, they repeat each other names over and over (they pretend not to hear).
Just hours and hours of enjoinment.
He isn't gentle, he isn't hard, he is himself.
They are both screaming in pleasure, becoming one thing.
We belong together.
Sin: they live in sin. They drown in it, swim in it.
At lest we won't be lonely in hell.
They aren't going to make it in this life, they are going to make it in another one.
In hell… Where they belong… together.
They are both at their peak.
Later she falls on him, spent.
No cuddling, no hand-holding, no love words, no sweet kissing, no I-love-yous… nothing.
That isn't them anymore, they aren't the same.
The world changed what they were, betray changed them, cheating changed them.
When they are both breathing normally again, she stands up and starts looking for her clothes.
"So baby, like old times?"
"Don' call me baby"
"Where are you going?"
"Home"
"Come on, stay a bit more, I'll make it worth it…".
He smirks.
"I'm sure you would"
"So where next time?"
"There's not going to be a next time"
They both know she's lying.
"Say hi to Matthew, soon-to-be Mrs. Brown".
They both hear the sadness in his voice.
She doesn't care… She doesn't want to care.
"Don't play the hurt puppy… You had your shot, you blew it"
"Don't worry… Fucking you at your rehearsal dinner is enough of a reward"
"Enjoy your prize while it lasts"
He stands now, walking closer to her.
Electricity flies between them.
"So, see you tomorrow, baby"
"Don't call me baby!"
"8 o'clock, left stall?"
"You wish"
She walks out.
"I do" he whispers.
He purrs himself some scotch.
He throws the glass against the wall, screaming.
Broken glass, brown wall.
A fucking mess.
He just wishes he had a time machine, to go back and not make the same mistakes, not make her run away.
He would prefer to be dead, at least the throbbing pain in is chest would go away.
I didn't care if I lived or died.
BC
CB
She hears him screaming, she hears the glass hitting the wall.
She doesn't care, she doesn't want to care.
She doesn't want to marry Matthew, she doesn't want to become the next Mrs. Brown… but she has to.
She can't leave Matthew for him, she gave up on that long ago…
She just wishes he hadn't done what he did…
She doesn't believe in fairy tales anymore.
BC
CB
The next day they are there, 8 o'clock, left stall.
He can't call her Waldorf anymore.
Passion + pleasure + lust + betray + cheating + loneliness = love n = love 4ever - pain 4ever.
I know, no happy ending, but I really had to get it off my system.
I usually don't like fics with no happy ending, but this is an exception.
However, please, review.
I always thought that authors who always asked for reviews were a bit whiny, but now that I write too I understand what they mean: reviews make you write sooner and better, and really make you feel good! I'm not the kind of writer who says:" If I don't get 736549 reviews I won't write anymore", because I really have fun writing, but getting a bit more reviews can't do me wrong! -.-