Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/12203901.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      F/M
  Fandom:
      Gossip_Girl
  Relationship:
      Chuck_Bass/Serena_van_der_Woodsen
  Character:
      Chuck_Bass, Serena_van_der_Woodsen
  Additional Tags:
      Smut, AU, High_School, club_hook-up, One_Night_Stand, Blow_Job,
      Penetration
  Stats:
      Published: 2017-09-27 Words: 2203
****** Strobe Light ******
by dirtydarkness418
Summary
     AU - He had to have her. He saw her legs, her cleavage, her
     contagious smile and long, golden hair and just knew. She had to be
     his tonight.
Notes
     In this particular fic, Chuck and Serena don't know each other
     personally before they meet in the club.
He had to have her.
He saw her legs, her cleavage, her contagious smile and long, golden hair and
just knew.
She had to be his tonight.
…
The night had started out the same as it had every night before. He wasn't
tired of it. He loved the partying, the drinking, the women. He loved it when
the scantily clad drunk college chicks would hit on him, and sometimes he'd
reciprocate. No one needed to know that he was only seventeen. Not that it
would have mattered. He had a way with women, a charm that most of the time
they found hard to resist. He inherited that from his father.
His general crowd had mostly left him. Not as a sort of desertion but because
they wanted to leave. Chuck didn't. He never did. He waited till the last call
every night. The clubs were his special place. He could hide and enjoy himself
at the same time.
He had just turned away from the bar to look across the dance floor when he saw
her. The strobe lights passed across her face, and he immediately got hard. His
hand clenched around his glass of scotch, but he forced himself to regain his
cool. It wasn't as if he'd never encountered beautiful women before, but this
one was something different.
She was flawless, exquisite, too perfect to be real. And she needed to be
violated.
Normally he wouldn't think in such animalistic terms when he decided to take a
woman to bed – or to the back room, whichever it may be. But there was
something about this girl that told him she was either going to be really easy
or really difficult, and he was not inclined to raping such a beautiful
creature.
But he knew he had to have her. Whatever the cost.
She caught his eye from across the room, and he knew he was done for. Unlike
the illusion many girls put over him, this one only became more stunning the
closer she came. Her sparkling silver mini-dress made her legs look even
longer, as did the four-inch shiny heels that accompanied it. Her eyes sparkled
with blue powder and her lashes drew special attention to the temptation she
offered. Her lips shined with pink lip gloss, and once she was close enough, he
could smell her; she smelled like Heaven.
"Hey," she said casually, sliding onto the stool beside his.
He smirked and turned back in towards the bar.
"Chuck Bass," he complied.
She turned her head and smiled prettily at him.
"Serena. But I wasn't talking to you."
He gave her a look of puzzlement, but she only turned back to where the
bartender was standing and ordered her toxic drink.
"I haven't seen you in here before," Chuck said, admiring her form even as
she'd insulted him. There was still hope that she wouldn't be difficult. One
insult didn't automatically guarantee another.
"Is this your regular place?" she asked, looking at him over her shoulder
inquisitively. And flirtatiously. She knew just what she was doing to him.
"For now," he said.
She smirked approvingly, and he knew he had her.
"What's your story?" she asked, sounding half-curious, half-tormenting. It was
a trick she often used. A life story determined whether to pursue the male who
had encountered her.
"Shall I guess yours?" he asked innocently, taking another swallow of his
scotch.
She smiled coolly. "Do you dance?" she asked, changing the subject.
"Only if I'm coerced," he said, and winked at her. Truth was he absolutely
detested dancing – except for ballroom dancing, since that apparently was a
huge trigger for seducing women. But by the way she was looking at him, and the
way she looked period, he thought he might be willing to give it a try. He'd
seen enough of his friends' attempts at club dancing to know what not to do.
Her eyes sparkled and she spun her chair away from him to slip off it and
toward the dance floor. He watched her swaying hips and her luscious ass
covered in sparkling silver and knew he was going to follow her. Another look
over her shoulder and he found himself slipping out of his jacket and walking
under the strobe lights amidst a mass of people grinding against each other.
Lightly, he set his hands on her waist and then implanted them lower onto her
hips. She turned to face him and he realized that she was about an inch or so
taller than him in her heels. He didn't mind. Tall could be good. It suggested
a model. And with this body, there was no room for complaints.
The lust in his eyes was potent, as was her curving body moving into his. He
felt breathless, choked by the heat between them.
"Nice dress," he commented, when she moved his hand further down her side.
She smirked. "I bet you like what's underneath it even more."
"Depends," he said sultrily, then leaned closer to whisper in her ear. "Does it
sparkle?"
She laughed. "It might," she purred into his ear. Then without warning she sank
her teeth gently onto the skin of his neck and began to suckle.
He pulled her closer as heat arced through him. He was becoming painfully hard
and dismissive towards the fact that he wasn't actually moving that much on the
dance floor. She was moving, and she was doing it well. She was doing it
against him, and it was making him even hornier, which he didn’t think was
possible.
He pulled his head back enough to see her face and then went in for the kill,
claiming her lips with his own and plunging his tongue into her moist, wet
mouth. His fingers dug into the sequins on her dress until he was pulling her
desperately close and his hands were wandering dangerously close to the hem of
her dress.
She took a small step back, her lips swollen and her eyes hungry.
"I think we're making them jealous," she murmured, gesturing to the general
crowd.
He smirked. "What do you suggest?" he asked huskily.
"Maybe…we should go somewhere more…isolated?" she offered innocently.
He looked like a Cheshire Cat, his smile stretching straight across his face.
"Besides…" She ran her hand down the front of his shirt, halting at his belt
buckle. Then she lifted her eyes to him, and he nearly came from the
unadulterated heated lust in her eyes alone. "I really wanna get out of this
dress."
By some effort of pure willpower, he took a step back and offered her his arm.
She took it graciously, and just before they left the room, he paid both their
tabs and grabbed his jacket.
…
They didn't go far. They didn't even make it to the next room.
A few feet past the bathrooms there was a little corridor to the left where a
large payphone booth used to be. He pushed her into it and began to ravage her,
somehow as quickly and as slowly as possible.
He kissed her madly, always faster and more intense, deeper, lapping at her
tongue, biting at her lip. Then he found the short zipper at the back of her
tube-style dress and the top of her sparkling attire peeled over, revealing her
large breasts that poured into his hands. He devoured them, licked them,
sucked, nibbled, tried to swallow them whole. He would've done it if his mouth
had been large enough.
Next was the hem of her dress. She lifted herself slightly, so he could push it
up. The dress she wore was satin underneath, not scratchy, or thin even, as
he'd assumed. It was soft and exquisite, but not nearly as feather-like as the
feel of her tan skin. She was the type of girl that waxed her legs, and
regularly. He gloried in that. They shone even in the darkness.
"You are fucking fantastic, Serena," he purred as he began to kneel to his
feet.
"Ah-ah-ah." She shook her finger at him and lifted herself off the bench. "Me
first," she said into his ear after she softly bit it. She bent her own knees,
unbuckled his belt, lowered his zipper and wrapped her lips around him.
He grunted at the first intake. He braced himself on the corners of the wall as
she continued to suck him, moving her mouth up and down, taking him so deep he
was sure she'd choke, but she didn't. She ran her tongue down the underside of
his dick and then popped his balls in and out of her mouth. Her nails drilled
down the front of his bare thighs and then her hands wrapped around his legs
until she was grabbing onto his ass, using the grip to pull him closer to her,
forcing his dick nearly halfway down her throat.
He made a sound that could have qualified as being a grunting squeal, and she
released him and shrugged him out of his unbuttoned shirt.
"Now, you can do me," she informed him, seduction in the irises of her eyes.
His eyes were hooded, dark, and desperate. "Oh, I plan to," he said huskily.
She'd awoken the barbarous animal in him, and he did not plan to restrain the
ravenous beast any longer.
He grabbed her by the back of her neck and passionately kissed her, more
hungrily then before. He was wild for her, needed her essence, desired nothing
less.
He forced her off the high bench briefly, so he could finally rid her of her
dress, then he forced his whole hand into her core and pumped her relentlessly.
She was tight, but he could fit, and she could feel it. He knew she could,
because he was sweating from the moisture drenching his hand and her legs
wrapped around his waist as she fell back onto the bench, her head pushed onto
the cold, dirty wall.
When he'd finished with his hand, he lowered himself to lick her folds. He
swirled his tongue around her erect clit and she pursed her lips quickly to
muffle her scream as she pushed his head further into her, her fingers in a
tight-knit hold in his hair. Finally, she yanked him up. He was dripping of her
fluids.
"Fuck me, Chuck," she said in short breaths. "Fuck me now."
His eyes were liquid fire. For a split second he took them off of her to fish a
condom out of his abandoned pants and encased himself in it. Then, he grabbed
her hips and pulled her to the edge of her seat. She braced herself just barely
with her hands behind her on the smooth wood.
He wasn't slow. He wasn't gentle. He was hard and rough and he thrust into her
over and over, then long and deep, then so fast he swore she stopped breathing,
because he was slipping in and out of her with all the juices she produced.
She tried to push herself up closer to him and only succeeded when he lifted
her himself and turned her so she was pressed against the adjacent wall. Her
skin was drenched with sweat. Her hair was plastered to her face, but he could
see her parted lips and sparkling eyelids and he kissed her because she was
there, and he was intoxicated.
When they'd switched positions three times, she reversed them again, pushing
him onto the bench and straddling him. He held her to his chest and thrust up
into her, but then she snapped his legs together with her knees and he stopped.
"Me," she demanded, holding a fiery gaze with him.
He relaxed, and she no longer held him imprisoned. Instead, she lifted herself
up and down his dick. She ground against him. She moved fluidly and
seductively, taking him in and out, almost jumping three times faster when his
mouth enclosed around her breasts again and he stuck his middle finger around
into her asshole.
"God, Chuck." She moaned, and then she screamed without restraint, because he'd
made her come. He'd started thrusting again, and he'd swirled his finger around
her clit again.
It was too much. All the pressure, all the delicious sensation, was too much to
keep her sane, to keep her stable.
He was not far behind in maintaining his sanity.
…
Ten minutes was all it took to recover, though both guessed the real recovery
would be an overnight one, and it would take several showers to move past
memories of this night.
"Fantastic fuck, Mr. Bass," she said, slipping back into her sparkly dress. She
was too weak to walk in her heels just yet.
"Likewise, Miss Van der Woodsen."
She looked up at him. "You know me?"
"It's written on your dress."
She turned and unzipped herself to see the silver letters embroidered on the
satin. She pouted and then shook her head, wondering.
"Goodnight, Chuck," she said brusquely, but sent one more seductive smile over
her shoulder as she left.
He smirked, still watching her swaying hips as she walked away.
Fantastic fuck indeed, he thought, patting his somehow already hardening dick
through the expensive fabric of his pants.
 
Please drop_by_the_archive_and_comment to let the author know if you enjoyed
their work!