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Polaris – Chapter 1

Series Summary: When Beau Arlen moved to Montana, he left behind a past he wasn’t proud of. But when a series of murders requires the FBI’s help, Sheriff Arlen‘s ghosts come back to haunt him one by one. With a wrong turn waiting at every crossroads, it’s hard to make the right choices and find his way back home – back to you.

Pairing: Beau Arlen x FBI Agent!Reader

Warnings: 18+, smut, fluff, angst, hints to a slight drinking problem, mentions of murder, serial killers, divorce & death, set after & before the events of season 3

Word Count: 5.1k

A/N: Welcome to another series, loves! I'm so excited to share this one! 🤍 You may read the Dirty Drabble that inspired it first, but there's references to the events of it throughout. Enjoy, babes! 😉

Huge special thanks to @blackcherrywhiskey, @deans-spinster-witch, @roseblue373 & @ladysparkles78 💚 for kicking my ass to write a whole series from that little one shot. I know y'all wanted me to bring the smut, and while I certainly did that, I couldn't resist bringing the angst. And well, once that angsty stone started to roll, it couldn't be stopped and downhill it all went... 😝 I usually do slow burns, so starting off hot and going in reverse for once was such a fun change!

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Chapter 1: Caught Up In A Moment

September 2023

One. Two. Three.

At the third knock, your bare feet sprinted to the motel room door from the bathroom, a towel still in hand as you dried your damp hair.

“Coming!” you called out and twisted the knob, opening the door with a keen smile.

Beau stood in front of you in all his glory – washed jeans Sherpa jacket, a button-up in your favorite color, and some tight denim clad his muscular bow legs. That man always effortlessly took your breath away when he really shouldn’t.

A cocked brow graced his features as he eyed you from head to toe, a smile twitching on his plump, kissable lips underneath the scruffy beard. “You open the door always like this, darlin’?”

The familiar drawl made your knees weak. Back home, the accent was nothing special, but his deep timbre of a voice that made your bones tremble surely was. The combination of the two was heaven-sent and hell-bent.

“I just got out of the shower.” You shrugged innocently, your golden halo swinging with your sinful hips.

As you rubbed the rest of your hair dry, your black silk robe swayed with the movement of your legs before you leisurely discarded the used towel on your bed and waited for the handsome sheriff to follow you inside.

“Brought you something,” Beau said and wiggled a thick folder over his head as he walked in, closing the door behind him with a kick of his boot. He ceremoniously slapped the file on the small desk in your room.

Your lips curved into a sly grin. “Oh? Almost feels like my birthday, Mr. President.”

Beau let out a hearty laugh, showing off the endearing crinkles around his shimmering green eyes. “I think you’ve got something confused there, darlin’. It was Kennedy’s birthday.”

“Huh, so I’m the president and you’re my Marilyn?” you teased.

“Oh, I’ll happily be your Marilyn,” he said with a cheeky smile.

As your fingers eagerly leafed through the file, you could feel Beau’s breath fanning against your neck as he came to stand behind you, shiny leather boots plodding on sordid motel carpet. The hair on your skin saluted him as goosebumps rose.

You could smell his cologne as it tingled your nose, bergamot and cedar mixed with a hint of vanilla flooding your senses and washing a sea of memories into your mind. Memories you wished were lost and never found.

Postponing the deep dive to tomorrow, your eyes only skimmed over the contents of the folder. But just as you suspected, the victimology and modus operandi were all too familiar. You’d seen this before, and it wasn’t good.

You’d be here for a while.

“And?” Beau’s voice broke you from your thoughts before you felt his fingertips softly brushing the flesh on your hips. An electric shudder ran down your spine at his touch, your mind on the fritz.

“Definitely my jurisdiction,” you replied and closed the file.

Moaning with pleasure, you felt his lips on your neck, kissing a pathway down to your shoulder. One of your hands wandered up and tangled in his thick, luscious locks, grabbed and tugged until he groaned against the shell of your ear. You still managed to blab about the case with strained concentration.

“There’s been similar cases in, uhm… Texas… Utah… Colorado… Wyoming… and now here.”

“Hmm,” Beau hummed, not letting himself be disturbed. The vibrations of his voice thrummed against the column of your throat.

Your cunt clenched; you could feel the rising wetness between your legs and the growing bulge against your ass.

A large hand brushed stealthily across your stomach and snaked past the silk fabric to grab a generous breast, squeezing the tender flesh and tweaking the nipple between his thumb and a finger. His hardening cock pressed at the crack between your buttcheeks, your arousal dripping down your thighs.

A second palm wandered to your front but was bound southward this time. His digits pried apart your folds, two of them running through your slick with a growl in your ear before slipping inside your pussy. A whimper left your lips as you braced your palms on the surface in front of you for support, your legs threatening to buckle under the pressure.

But Beau wasn’t going to let you fall, his grip like a vice around you as he held you flush against his chest, hot breath tickling your earlobe and beard burning your cheek. You moaned his name with a few expletives as he thrust his fingers in and out of your soaked channel.

“Fuck, you’re so goddamn wet. Want you to come for me,” he husked into your ear and pushed his erection even more against your ass. Your pussy clenched around him. “Yeah, that’s it. Squeeze those fingers like you’ll squeeze my cock… It’s been too fucking long. Wanna finally fill you, darlin’.”

“God, yes,” you whined in agreement as the coil in your belly tightened with each plunge into your heat.

He curled his knuckles and expertly thumbed your clit, making you cry out. His strokes became harder, your breathing grew labored. Your body quaked with each thrust, cunt throbbing around his fingers.

“Fuck,” you moaned as the heel of his palm rubbed your clit, igniting the fuse to the fireworks in your belly. Your explosion could be seen in the sky from miles away without binoculars.

“I gotcha,” Beau whispered as a strong arm wrapped around your ribcage, your pussy pulsing with his fingers deep inside you. Brushing your damp hair to one side of your neck, his teeth sunk into your shoulder as you steadied in his embrace.

“You’d think as the sheriff, you’d care a little more that a serial killer is running around and murdering citizens of your county,” you teased breathlessly.

“Oh, I’m not worried,” Beau said simply, removing his wet fingers from your drenched cunt.

You lifted an eyebrow at him and bit down on your lower lip. “No?”

“Nope, not since you’re here,” Beau quipped and kissed your shoulder blade. “I know you won’t rest till you got that bastard all nicely cuffed up.”

You huffed a laugh. “Wow, you’ve got a lot of confidence in me, huh?”

“You betcha. Got nothin’ to do with confidence, either. I just know you, darlin’,” Beau stated with a cocksure grin and palmed one cheek of your ass as he rutted against you.

“Beau, fuck… I still have to lock the folder into the safe,” you managed to say, your mind in a haze of desire as your pussy whined in starving anticipation.

“C’mon, who’s gonna steal it, huh?” he muttered against your skin. “Would be a damn fool to break into a room with a sheriff and a federal agent.”

“You can never be too careful,” you argued lightly.

“Says the woman who can’t lock a damn door,” Beau sassed with a chuckle and threw you a raised look as he spun you in his embrace.

You laughed, your cheeks blushing when you were reminded of your little unfortunate adventure at lunch. Your arms draped around his neck as his hands wandered to your lower back, the two of you gently swaying from side to side.

“I’m sorry, okay? I told you. I thought it was locked.”

“Uh-huh.” Beau chuckled, shaking his head. “You’d think with all those criminals running around, you’d know better.”

“Look, the Academy doesn’t technically teach us how to lock doors, just how to kick ‘em in, alright?” you retorted. He pecked the tip of your nose, flashing you a grin. “Is your deputy, okay? I felt bad. He looked traumatized. You know, he couldn’t look me in the eye when I left.”

“Yeah, I bet.” Beau laughed and rubbed his bearded chin before his palm moved back to its original place on the small of your back. “As soon as his shift was over, he bolted straight outta there. But Papa Smurf will be fine. Don’t worry about it,” he assured you with a warm smile that could melt several hearts. It sure did yours. “You do know, though, I’ll get teased for this, right?”

“I know.” You laughed and buried your face in his chest upon Beau’s playful glare. He pursed his lips as his cheeks flushed with color before placing a kiss on your crown. “I’m sorry. Maybe no one knows?”

“Y/N, this ain’t Houston. This is a small town. Everyone knows by now,” Beau reminded you with a small laugh.

Guiltily, you looked up at him and bit your lower lip, one corner of your mouth tugging upwards into a smirk. “I’ll make it up to you?”

“Oh?”

On tiptoes, you then nuzzled your nose against his, hands traveling from his neck to his cheeks as you tenderly caressed his beard and felt his breathing quicken. Your gazes locked. You got lost in pine green.

His fingers played with a wet strand of your hair, a smile fluttering on his mouth as he tucked it back behind your ear. His palm wandered to the back of your head and pulled you to his lips. The first kiss was tender and hesitant, like a kid testing the temperature of the ocean with its big toe before fully diving inside and getting carried away by the waves.

The kiss grew needier and rougher as he pushed you back until you hit the edge of the small desk in your room. Effortlessly, strong arms lifted you on the surface, your bare buttcheeks feeling the worn wood underneath. It was too easy for you two to fall back into an old rhythm.

“This is very handy, by the way,” Beau said with a smirk as his fingers opened the loosely tied bow of your robe and revealed your naked body underneath.

“Thought you’d appreciate it,” you purred as he slid the silky material off your shoulders, letting it billow around your waist.

“Oh, I do, darlin’,” he rasped, his voice loaded with lust, nibbling along your jaw. His mouth wandered down to your throat, sucking the skin purple and blue before he claimed your first breast, his tongue rolling over your nipple until it peaked.

“Fuck, baby,” you whimpered breathily, your head lolling back as he worshipped your body, running a river of kisses from your collarbone to the end of your ribcage. “Need you inside me, please.”

It had been so long, you had almost forgotten how good he was at making you come undone. Or better said, you had tried to forget it on purpose.

“You don’t know what you’re doing to me,” Beau growled huskily in your ear.

Cupping his cheeks, you needily brought him back to your lips, your breathing ragged between a dance of tongues. His kisses were addictive; one taste and you were hooked. Consumption became an obsession.

Your hands climbed down his body, unbuckled belt and unzipped jeans, palming his massively hard cock that only grew even larger in your hand. Everything was indeed bigger in fucking Texas.

While you popped every button of his maroon shirt, he slipped out of his jacket and boxers, his erection springing against his stomach. It was perfectly wide and long, dangerously able to stretch you to your fullest. Your mouth watered, the taste of him still fresh in your mind.

His shirt joined the graveyard of clothes on the floor as your legs wrapped around his waist. He positioned his head at your waiting entrance, catching your gaze as he pushed inside, sheathing his cock fully in your soaking channel.

“Fuck, I missed this,” he groaned and rested his head on your shoulder as he momentarily stilled when he was at your deepest. He inhaled your scent and memorized every note like a love song. His lips bit and soothed your skin in a vicious cycle. There was no escaping him.

His harmless words caused a sting in your chest, however, cutting deeper than any knife could. You tried to ignore the dulled pain, reminding you of your oath to keep it casual this time. Your heart couldn’t get dragged back into his mess. Once was enough for a lifetime.

Beau had a punch list. You had a forget-about-him list.

A part of you doubted your decision to come here. Maybe it was too soon. Maybe no amount of time would ever be enough.

Beau grabbed you tightly and carried you to the bed, your legs still wrapped around him, still connected with him inside of you. Your back touched the light sheets underneath you as his weight heavily laid on top of you, pressing him further into you until you felt him at the spot you loved so much.

“Oh, fuck,” you mewled as he moved your thigh over his shoulder and thrust even deeper inside of you, filling you to the brim. It felt like he had remembered every move, everything you’d ever loved.

His hips then began to snap faster. Harder. He bottomed out each and every time. You felt him everywhere, your nerve endings catching fire as the flames inside you rose, climbed and burned down walls.

Beau could feel you were close, and he was right there with you. His hand snaked between your sweat-clad bodies and found your sensitive spot once more, his thumb rubbing circles on your clit till he pushed you over the cliff and you lost sight of the shore.

Ocean. Waves… Your boat capsized and got lost in them.

His lips sought out yours. His kiss was deep and passionate and lasting as his hips stilled, spilling his release inside of you with a guttural grunt. Your muscles trembled, your pussy tight and throbbing around his cock, and yet, still craving more. He was the worst drug you’d ever known.

As he slipped out of you and rolled next to you, both of you were panting heavily on the mattress. You stared at the water-stained ceiling above you, your skin glistening and sticky.

Chuckling, Beau ran a hand through his hair and whistled lowly. “Man… this was… wow,” he said and opened his arm, inviting you into his embrace.

“Yeah,” you breathed in agreement, your cheeks flushed as a blissful smile haunted your features. As your head rested safely on his chest, you listened to his heartbeat, steady and reliant, and concentrated on his tender and calm caresses on your arm.

“You know, I really did miss this,” he told you and placed another affectionate kiss on top of your head.

“Me too,” you admitted quietly and felt your heart crack a little more.

“You know, this kinda reminds me of that night in that shabby motel in Mexico,” Beau reminisced with a soft laugh. “Not Juárez but, uhm… Culiacán! Minus the food poisoning.”

“Sure as hell taught me to never eat tacos from some shady street truck again, no matter how hungry a stake-out makes me,” you agreed, chortling.

“Yeah, pretty damn sure that wasn’t beef,” Beau added. “Tasted like armadillo.”

Amused, you lifted a brow. “How do you know what armadillo tastes like?”

“Trust me, you don’t wanna know,” he replied and shuddered in disgust to drive the point home.

Laughing came easy with Beau. During stormy times, his heart was your lighthouse, burning in the distance. But then, it suddenly wasn’t one day, swallowed by fog and leaving you surrounded by darkness. Walking down memory lane also reminded you of that – the times when your tears could fill an ocean.

Moving out of his arms, you left the familiar and irresistible warmth and grabbed one of your navy FBI shirts from your duffel bag, pulling it over your head. Soon you found a pair of gray sweatpants as well. With each clothing item, you added another layer over your heart.

Beau watched you get dressed in silence, feeling you pull back from him. His heart twinged with anguish; his soul throbbed with longing. It was rare that he was at a loss for words, but you had a habit of leaving him speechless.

Softly, he cleared his throat to catch your attention and get you out of your head. “I meant what I said today, you know? I want you to stay, Y/N. Even when this case is over. I was serious about that.”

“I know.” You nodded, an amused snort involuntarily escaping your throat. “Just hard to believe, I guess… especially with Carla being available again.”

You bit your tongue and closed your eyes as the words slipped out of your mouth. You didn’t mean to, but it did.

“Y/N–”

You quickly turned around and faced him, doing your best at damage control. “Beau, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean anything by it. It’s fine.”

“It’s not fine,” Beau said and shook his head.

He grabbed his clothes from the floor, feeling his time with you quickly coming to an end. He wanted to at least be dressed in case he had to chase after you. He figured one naked public outing per day was enough for Helena’s sheriff.

“Look, let’s just talk about it. Get it all out in the open, alright?”

“Beau, really, I get it. You don’t have to explain,” you replied in an attempt to brush him off.

“Yes, I do,” Beau insisted as he slid back into his jeans and buttoned his shirt, his gaze drilling into yours and pleading with you. Rising from the bed, he stalked closer to you. “A lot’s changed since the last time we saw each other. I told you. I moved here to be closer to Em.”

You rolled your eyes back and scoffed. Carding a hand through your hair, you spun on your heel in disbelief. You had to take a moment before looking at him again. “Are you kidding me right now?”

Beau sighed and conceded, hands held high in defense in case you fired another shot. “Alright, I hear ya. Maybe that wasn’t entirely true… initially. But it certainly is now, alright? It’s more complicated than you think. It just-… There’s so much I need to tell you… Carla and I… that’s over. Resolved, okay? Trust me. You don’t need to be worried.”

“I’m not worried!” you lied. Badly, might you add, but you didn’t care if he believed you or not. You let out a deep sigh and tried a calmer approach. “Look, uhm, maybe this was a bad idea. We shouldn’t have–… We-, we got caught up in a moment. I mean, that’s our thing, right? It doesn’t mean anything. Let’s just concentrate on the case and then go our separate ways again, alright?”

“Don’t do this, Y/N. Don’t push me to the sidelines,” Beau contended firmly. “It does mean something. It never didn’t. You know that.”

“Do I? I didn’t push you anywhere, Beau. You’re the one who left,” you snapped and unapologetically shrugged your shoulders once the words escaped. You held back the tears that brimmed in your eyes. The afterglow evaporated. Soberly, you walked to the door and nodded towards the exit. “I think you should go… After all, it’s what you do best.”

Beau smacked his lips, his brow creasing as he averted his green eyes and thoughtfully glanced out the window, his hands resting on his squared-off hips. You knew it was a low blow, but you couldn’t stop yourself, either. It was the truth, and sometimes it hurt to hear it.

Nodding, he scratched his beard. “Alright, I’ll go, but we’re not done,” he said resolutely. Internally, you sighed. You forgot they grew quite stubborn in Texas, too. “Look, I know I’ve made mistakes. I screwed up a lot… especially with you. But I’m not giving up… He wouldn’t want me to.”

With that, he walked out the door. As it closed behind him, you exhaled a deep and long breath. Looking out the window, your eyes drifted from the parking lot and gazed up at the famous big sky above you.

You found yourself fascinated by the twinkling spots of light in the midnight blue. Pensively, you glanced down at your hand and twisted the golden band on your ring finger. Your eyes then found one of the brightest stars in the dark night sky, Polaris, hoping it would guide your sinking ship back home.

September 2021

“This is the most boring stake-out ever,” you complained and blew a raspberry in frustration, leaning back against the metal hood of the car as the Milky Way shone brightly above you and the cicadas chirped their song in the distance.

You had parked the SUV on top of a plateau in the middle of the Chihuahuan desert somewhere in Mexico, overlooking a cartel hideout, but far enough away to not be spotted.

“Yeah, I don’t think they’re coming tonight. We better check that intel again tomorrow,” Beau said with a sigh and took off his cowboy hat, laying it on the hood behind him.

“I’ll talk to my CI again,” you replied and sighed as well, your eyes feeling more tired than they’d ever been. It had been a long few months and sleeping wasn’t exactly high on your priority list.

Beau nodded and ran a hand through his hair, scratching his head in impatient irritability. He then pulled out a silver flask from the inner pocket of his Sherpa jacket and took a big swig.

You raised an eyebrow at him. “We’re still on the job, you know?”

He stared straight ahead, not daring to look at you as the crescent moon hung high above him. “Yeah, so?”

“Nothin’.” You shrugged, not wanting to start a fight or upset him. “Just noticed you’ve been doing that a lot lately. Since the funeral… It’s not like you.”

“Yeah, well, things change,” he said bitterly and took another sip.

“I worry about you,” you confessed quietly, the concern shimmering in your eyes.

At that, he finally turned his head and caught your gaze. “Don’t. You’ve got enough to worry about. You don’t need me on your list.”

“Well, it’s too late for that,” you said and sent him a small smile. “In fact, all I do is worry about you. You’re the only thing on the list, actually.”

“Hmm… I guess it’s nice to know that at least someone cares,” he muttered and drank again.

“Oh, don’t gimme that! Stop with the sulking and the feeling sorry for yourself,” you chided and sat up straight, getting a better look at him as you leaned your arms on your knees. “Did you talk to her since… you know?”

He threw you a sideways glance, lifting a brow. “Since we signed the divorce papers? Nope,” he replied and popped the p, taking another swig.

“Maybe it’s not too late. Just talk to her,” you repeated words you’d said a thousand times by now. “That’s all she wants, you know?”

“Yeah, I know.” Beau nodded quietly, a thick swallow stuck in his throat as he stared at the desolate landscape ahead.

“You talk to me about it. I’m sure Carla would understand,” you added.

“I talk to you ‘cause I got no choice. You deserved to know how I fucked up. ‘Sides, you were already knee-deep in this shit. No stoppin’ ya,” Beau said. His eyes found yours briefly before he averted his gaze again.

“I prefer shoulder-deep,” you joked lightheartedly. Then, the familiar heaviness returned, weighing down your chest, your heart aching. “Feels like quicksand around my throat.”

“Yeah,” Beau agreed quietly, tongue swiping across his lips. “That’s why I don’t want her anywhere near this. With Carla… I have a choice.”

“She’s a defense attorney. She’s seen some shit, you know?” you pointed out. “I mean, is it really worth losing your family over?”

“It’s more complicated than that,” Beau said stoically. He then let out a humorless laugh that you couldn’t place before putting the flask to his lips again.

“Okay, enough. Gimme that,” you snapped and grabbed the silver container from him, swallowing down a big gulp. You grimaced in disgust, everything in your body shuddering at the awful taste. “Dear fucking Lord! What the hell is that?”

In response, he snorted and gave you a passive twitch of his shoulders. “Little bit of everything I could find in the motel minibar.”

“Ew! You’re pathetic,” you retorted with a crinkle of your nose and meant it partially as a joke. You had always bantered like this, but this time, he took you by your word.

“Yeah, that’s what Carla said, too,” he belittled himself.

“Okay, stop with the pity party. I can’t take any more of this sad face you’ve got going on there,” you remarked with a huff. It broke your own heart to see his shattered like this. You missed his sunny laugh and the endless bad jokes and the nonstop chatter. He’d always been a good man, despite this newfound darkness of his, and deserved better.

“Well, get used to it. It ain’t going anywhere,” Beau replied, much to your dismay.

“Fine,” you relented and let out a sigh.

Silence fell between you two, only filled by the cicadas and the coyotes roaming about. Thoughtfully, you stared up at the beautiful night sky and spied a shooting star, feeling almost silly for daring to make a wish.

“Randy always said you should fight for the things that are worth fighting for,” Beau’s voice finally broke the silence. “Never give up.”

You peeled your eyes away from the stars above and looked at him. You chuckled softly at the memory. “Yeah, that sounds like him. He was annoyingly persistent like that.”

“I just don’t know if it’s worth it, I guess,” he said quietly.

“Of course it is,” you insisted. “You love Emily and Carla. They’re your family.”

“I’ve let them down… I’ve let a lotta people down, actually,” Beau said, and you could feel his eyes on you from your periphery.

“It’s been a tough year,” you said sympathetically.

“It has,” he agreed soberly and turned his gaze to the night sky above you. “You know what star this is?”

“The North Star, right?” you guessed, following his gaze to the Little Dipper constellation.

“Yeah, Polaris. It’s fixed in the sky while everything else moves ‘round it. It’s supposed to help you find your way when you’re lost,” he explained. “True north.”

“You’ll find your way again,” you told him confidently and nudged his shoulder, giving him a small but encouraging smile. “No one’s blaming you for what happened, Beau, so give yourself some grace, okay?”

He nodded, swallowing harshly as he met your gaze. “Thank you.”

Confused, you furrowed your brow. “For what?”

“Not leaving when you should’ve…”

You smiled softly. “We’re friends… and trauma bonded. I’d never do that to you.”

Beau matched your smile, but you could see the tears stinging in the corners of his forest-green eyes as the sadness overwhelmed him. “Shit,” he cursed, burying his face in his palms. He sniffed.

Concerned, your brows drew together. You laid your hand on his shoulder and gingerly stroked his back. “Beau, what’s going on?”

“I can’t…” He struggled for words, shook his head. Whatever was on his mind, he refused to voice it. His lower lip quivered before he covered his mouth with his palm, running a hand over his beard. Then, a sad smile grazed his face. “You know, I always thought Randy was the luckiest bastard alive.”

“Why?”

Beau didn’t respond. Instead, he closed the distance between you until his lips crashed against yours. You were shocked for a moment, froze down to your core. But then your hands found his cheeks and reflexively pulled him closer, a magnet you had no power over.

His hands did much the same, needily roaming your body and holding you flush against his own. His tongue hungrily slipped inside and devoured yours, tasting like the contents of the flask. Tequila, whiskey, and vodka were only a few you could decipher, but now the aftertaste was heaven instead of hell.

The kiss lasted till your head spun, a lack of oxygen forcing him to withdraw. It could’ve been chalked up to a drunken misstep, a glitch in the fabric of the universe that could’ve been swallowed by a black hole just as suddenly as it happened. But for you, it was enough to turn your whole world upside down and toss your planet out of orbit.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that,” he whispered, his breath ghosting against your lips. The further he retreated, the more you could see the battle raging in his mind. “Fuck,” he cursed and clasped his mouth with his palm.

He jumped off the hood and walked a few suicidal-crazed steps towards the cliff, his back standing like a tall wall between you. You watched his shoulders tense as his gaze drifted upwards to the sky. It seemed like he was praying.

Your fingers touched your kiss-swollen lips, hot and yearning for more. There was a tug on your heart, a rope lassoed around the muscle that pulled you to him.

“Beau?”

Your call of his name forced him to face you. An apologetic and torn look pervaded his features as he fought a combat in his mind and wrung with the feelings in his heart.

“It’s okay,” you said gently.

He met your eyes, a shimmer of hope in his as a glimpse of a smile twitched on his lips. Something you hadn’t seen in well over a year. It was so delicate, you weren’t sure it wasn’t a malfunction. A damn counterfeit.

“How?” His question hung from the moon with despair.

“I don’t know.”

He stared at you for a moment, the hesitation behind his eyes still prominent. You felt the magnetic pull again, and you could tell that he felt it, too.

And then, with a few strides, he was in front of you, hands in your hair as he claimed your lips in a scorching kiss that set your entire world on fire. You sunk into him, forever lost in a cosmos of green, sucked in by his gravity, air gone from your lungs, and feet never touching ground again.

Beau sat in his car in the quiet parking lot of the motel, his gaze wandering up to the night sky above as he thoughtfully rubbed his chin. His other hand rested on the steering wheel, fingers tapping.

The same old war waged in his mind. Guilt filled his heart and bubbled to the surface. He debated whether he should turn the ignition or knock on your door. He always felt torn, unsure if you were a mistake or the best damn thing of his life.

His green eyes then fixed on the North Star, praying it would show him the way to your heart once more. This time, he swore to whoever was listening that he wouldn’t lose it. He’d keep it safe.

‘Cause the first time he kissed you, it surely changed everything for him.

Chapter 2: No Signs, No Compasses – MAY 8

If you've caught my not-so-subtle hints throughout this, you can already smell the drama and angst this series has in store for you 😂

Any ideas who Y/N is yet? Let me know in the comments 😏🤍

Hope you enjoyed this smangsty introduction!

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loveindefinitely · 5 months

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༊*·˚ MIDNIGHTS — track one : lavender haze

summary. you're dragged to a house party by your best friend, and subsequently meet two men that will change your life, all in one night.

featuring. rodolfo 'rudy' parra + alejandro vargas

warnings. nsfw, alcohol consumption, modern au, implied drug use, f/m/m, mutually under the influence, partying, slight peer pressure, public sex (?), bathroom sex, oral, degradation, strangers to lovers

series masterlist.

"Jesus christ," you murmur, wincing at the sudden and overpowering smell of weed, cruisers and sweat. Not exactly an appealing mix, but not revolting, at least. Better than vomit. Too early in the night for that, you supposed.

Valeria mutters something under her breath, and with a roll of her eyes, drags you by the scuff of your neck to the kitchen.

Bodies litter every open bit of room on the floor, grinding against each other, neon lights casting vibrant colours over the sheen of sweat on their skin. It's oddly enchanting.

The glitter littered on your collarbones and cleavage shine in the cascading lights, and you hope that you look somewhat confident, even if you feel anything but. You weren't one for house parties, hell, this was one of your first, but Valeria had convinced you to 'let loose' and 'have fun'.

You didn't say how you knew that this party was an excuse to get business done, but then again, that was why the two of you were so close.

Plausible deniability, and all that.

A drink is slammed into your chest, a little bit splashing onto your skin. You shoot an unamused glare Valeria's way, to which she just replies with a small shrug. "Drink."

"If it's drugged, I'll kill you," you say. ...Only half joking. You knew -- hoped -- that she wouldn't, but again, it was Valeria.

Another roll of her eyes and a scoff. "You can try."

You wouldn't, because at the end of the day, you did enjoy being alive and functioning. Both things were quite useful.

Valeria's eyes catch on something, or someone, behind you, and her glare narrows even further, her mouth hitching up into a hardly discreet scowl.

You turn, but she quickly grabs you by the hair to stop you from doing so. "Don't look," she seethes, venom in her tone.

"Didn't expect to see you here, Valeria," a man's voice chimes from behind you, snarky and impatient.

Your closest friend's lips pull into a cruel, cunning smile, void of any warmth as she glares at whoever's behind you. "Alejandro," she snarls, her voice bitter.

Swallowing, you nervously try and think of a way to get out from between whatever the fuck is going on here. You didn't exactly feel like getting involved in... whatever Valeria did under your nose.

"And who's she?" The man asks, sounding just the slightest bit closer. His tone has taken an interested, more curious tone, not nearly as harsh or abrasive.

You play with the necklace around your neck in nervous movements, trying to quell your growing anxiety.

Valeria huffs a cold laugh. "Not apart of this," is her only answer, accent thickening just the slightest, like it did when she was pissed off, or... scared. Which had only been once, in all fairness, and that was because of a spider.

"Vamos, necesitamos hablar. Sácala de aquí [Come on, we need to talk. Get her out of here]," the man spits out, vitriol heavy on his tongue like some kind of poison.

"Tócala y morirás, Alejandro [Touch her and you will die, Alejandro]," is Valeria's hiss of a reply, her hold tightening in your hair. You squeeze your eyes shut, nervous and completely out of your element, and scared shitless.

The man behind you -- Alejandro -- murmurs a bunch of curses under his breath, before he replies once more. "Rodolfo will keep her safe."

"¿Crees que confío en ti? [Do you think I trust you?]" Valeria's eyes burn with rage from what you can see in the dim lighting, and it sends a shiver down your spine. "Bien. Si ella tiene un rasguño, ambos moriréis [Fine. If she gets a scratch, you'll both die]."

She looks down to you, her hand falling from the fist it had in your hair. "If he so much as breathes at you wrong, yell for me," she mutters in a low tone, before pushing you towards someone without so much as another look in your direction.

Your breathing comes out in short, quick pants, when a warm arm slides around your waist. You flinch in surprise, looking up into warm brown eyes.

"Rodolfo," the man says, an introduction. His head gestures sharply to the man following after a fuming Valeria. "Alejandro."

You nod, albeit with confusion, and pray that your embarrassment isn't obvious on your face when you say your name in a way of greeting.

Rodolfo nods, and there's a calmness to him that settles your nerves and overall antsiness.

"¿Quieres bailar? [You want to dance?]" He asks, and you tilt your head slightly to the side. He raises a brow, taking in your appearance. Your black dress is completely and utterly slutty, but you had wanted to try and be a different person for a night.

...You were maybe, slightly, regretting it.

"I..." you start, unsure what to do or say, before he simply drags you towards the loungeroom, where everyone's packed like sardines.

His chest presses against your own, his arm still around your lower back. Your hands, nervously, rest at his chest, and you have to crane your neck a little to make eye contact.

You are so, so, so screwed.

His mouth tilts into a small smirk, obviously aware of your uncertainty. "I'm protecting you, hermosa [beautiful]. You're safe with me," he whispers, leaning in close to your ear, and you just about melt. His voice is velvety and smooth and so fucking attractive that you can't believe that you're even here right now.

Swallowing, you nod slowly. "Okay. I'm sorry," you tack on the last part, the words familiar on your tongue.

Your eyes go slightly wide when his hand comes up to direct your chin back up to meet his gaze, his eyes almost sparkling in the deep purple lights hung in this room. "No. None of that."

Your mouth is as dry as a desert.

But something else certainly isn't.

"How do you know Valeria?" You ask, because, really, you can't keep your mouth shut, can you?

Rodolfo seems to think for a moment, his features highlighted by the lights. The bass of the music thrums in your chest, and you can feel it from where your feet hit the floor, all the way to your fingertips, where they sit on his chest.

"...She's an old friend," is his response, and you can tell that there's a lot of heavy lifting behind the 'friend' title.

You nod, however, appeased with the answer. At least for now.

"You're not aware of her work?" He asks, wincing slightly at the last word. He's a solid weight at your front, oddly comforting for a man you had met not even five minutes ago, and who is clearly not in a white-collar kind of career path.

"No, um, not really my business," you say, deflecting.

A crease forms between his brows, and the swaying slows down. The two of you are surrounded at all sides, and it's hard to think, let alone breathe.

He's about to open his mouth to continue, when a sharp bark of his name makes his gaze instantly flick from you, to the other side of the room.

"Nosotros vamos [We're going]," The voice from before calls out -- Alejandro's voice. Rodolfo's arm at your waist tightens, if only slightly.

His gaze flickers back to yours, something swirling in their depths. Something that has your thighs squeezing just a bit together. You are so unbelievably parched -- from physical or mental thirst, you're not sure.

"Come with me," he says, voice lilted with an undercurrent of lust and desire. "Por favor, mi niña [please, my girl]."

Valeria had said to have fun, hadn't she? And you hadn't gotten all dressed up just to not get laid tonight, right?

So, like the 'new you' you are, you nod your head.

Rodolfo's returning smile is nothing short of vivaciously wicked, and tingles shoot up your spine as his hand rests heavy on your hip as he guides you out of the thick stream of people.

When your eyes meet Alejandro's, and you're standing mere feet in front of him, the man's eyebrows shoot up in surprise. He directs a look to Rodolfo, and although you can't see the man's expression, you can tell that they're silently communicating.

Whatever the conclusion to their voiceless debate, it seems to weigh in your favour.

a/n. a teaser for the midnights series!! i have not forgotten about my plans for this one folks. taylor swift did infact intend for the album to be used as titles and vibes for call of duty fanfiction, in case u didnt know!

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riahollywood · 1 year

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jealousy, jealousy | erling haaland

featuring; erling haaland x fem!reader

in which; a jealous erling has his way with you after watching you and jack get a little too close for his liking.

requests; open! I love writing little things like this so please feel free to send me any requests/prompts.

“it’s my birthday, you have to do a shot with me!” jack exclaimed, pushing the shot of vodka towards you across the table.

“ugh, not vodka though, jack!” you replied, scrunching your nose up at the glass infront of you.

“c’mon, it’s just one shot.” jack looked up at you with puppy dog eyes and you couldn’t resist, sighing and picking up the shot.

you had became close with jack over the past few months through his friendship with your boyfriend, erling. you had only been officially together for a little over 2 weeks, but jack had been on the scene since your very first meeting with erling.

jack moved to stand next to you, wrapping his arm around your waist as he encouraged you to drink the shot.

you reluctantly cheersed to jack and knocked it back, sticking your tongue out at the sensation that was left once you swallowed the liquid.

across the room, you noticed erling had stopped his conversation with one of jack’s friends and his eyes were practically burning through you.

you moved away from jack’s grasp and put the shot glass down onto the table.

“see, that wasn’t so bad, was it?” jack asked and you rolled your eyes at him playfully.

you felt a hand back at your waist, looking down you saw it was much larger than jack’s and the grip was much tighter. erling.

“can I steal my girl from you?” erling asked jack, voice dark and accent thick.

“sure, she’s had a birthday shot with me, she’s free to go now.” jack replied and erling gave him a quick smile before grabbing your hand and leading you away.

“babe, are you okay?” you asked but erling continued his stride with you in tow.

“don’t call me babe.” he replied as the two of you exited the club.

“what’s going on?” you asked, scanning his face for any hint of a clue.

“we’re going home.” he replied, no emotion to his voice or face.

“why the urgency?” you asked as you both climbed into the car.

he ignored your question and started driving, eyes fixated on the road ahead of him and jaw clenched shut.

you had no idea what his problem was. he was absolutely fine before going into the club, telling you how beautiful you looked in your short black strapless dress.

you figured if he was going to be petty, so would you.

upon entering his home, you ignored him and headed straight upstairs to his bathroom to get ready for bed.

you were about to take your makeup off when your phone buzzed so you took it out to see what the notification was.

right on queue, erling appeared at the door.

“that jack on the phone?”

you furrowed your brows. “jack? no, why would jack be messaging me?”

he shook his head and you thought back to the evening’s events. was erling being jealous?

“I dunno, you seemed to love his touch when you were flirting with him earlier.” he scoffed.

your eyes widened. “oh my god, is that what this is about?!”

he rolled his eyes.

“because I did a shot with your best friend at his birthday?!” you exclaimed.

“no, it’s about you loving his hands all over you.”

“erling you’re being ridiculous now. it’s not my fault if jack is handsy.”

“it’s your fault for loving it.” he said and you huffed in disbelief.

he walked towards you, pushing you back so you were right up against the counter top next to the sink.

you were taken by surprise when his hand went up your dress, running over your silky knickers.

“jack wouldn’t be able to make you come like i do.”

you were at a loss for words as his hand stroked you through your underwear.

“erling…”

“what, baby?” he asked, moving his hands underneath your knickers and touching your wetness.

“did jack get you wet?” he asked softly, eyes staring at yours.

“n-no.” you managed to stammer out.

erling smirked before slowly entering two fingers into you.

“who made you this wet then?” he asked.

you gulped.

“you.”

he smirked again.

“what was that, I didn’t quite hear you.”

he picked up a faster pace with his fingers, hitting your sweet spot. you gasped at the sensation.

“you, erling. you.” you repeated, desperate for him to continue.

much to your displeasure he removed his fingers and turned you around so you were still pushed up against the counter but now facing the mirror.

you watched in the mirror as he stood behind you, attaching his lips to your shoulder. he left a gentle kiss there before working his way up to your neck where he became more rough, softly biting and licking each spot as he travelled up to your ear.

“looks like you need reminding who you belong to.”

you whimpered at his words, you were so turned on.

he reached down and unzipped your dress, pulling it down your body and throwing it to the other side of the room.

he quickly stripped of his own clothes, taking his length into his hand and stroking up and down whilst not taking his eyes off you in the mirror.

“i’m going to fuck you so hard that you won’t be able to walk tomorrow.”

all you could do was let out another pathetic whimper at his words.

he pulled your underwear off your body and you stepped out of them.

“now, be a good girl and bend over so I can fuck you.”

you did exactly as you were told, his words making you even more desperate than you already were.

erling gripped onto your hips and entered you hard and fast, making you moan out in shock.

this was unlike him. he was usually a sweet and gentle lover, concerned his size could hurt you. it was a completely different size to him you hadn’t seen before, and you loved it.

he picked up his pace, each thrust hitting your sweet spot as his grip on your hips stayed tight.

erling removed one of his hands to pull your hair back, holding it in place with his fist as his pace showed no signs of slowing down.

“look at you as I fuck you, baby.” he ordered, pulling your hair back and making you look at the mirror as he continued to ram into you.

“does that feel good?”

“yes erling, oh my god.” you moaned out in pleasure.

“only I can make you feel this way.” he spoke possesively, his thrusts getting even more hard and fast as he pictured you with jack earlier on that evening.

“only me.” he repeated.

you moaned his name as you could feel your high approaching, each thrust now making you see stars.

he brought his lips to your ear.

“are you going to be a good girl and moan my name when you come around my big cock?”

his words were too much for you and you moaned his name as you clenched around him and let the feeling overcome you. as soon as he felt your walls tighten around him he let you of your hair and groaned expletives as he came in you.

you both took a few moments to catch your breath and erling pulled out of you.

“I don’t think you’re going to flirt with my friends again.” he spoke, that cheeky smirk back on his face.

#erling haaland #erling haaland blurb #erling haaland fanfic #erling haaland imagine #erling haaland one shot #erling haaland smut #erling haaland x reader #football smut #haaland #man city #erling haaland x y/n #erling haaland x you #erling haaland x fem!reader #football imagine #footballer smut #man city blurb #man city fanfiction

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artemisthewh0re · 1 year

Note

WE NEED A LONGER VERSION OF TANGERINE GETTING SUCKED OFF IN THE TRAIN BATHROOM!!

possibly followed by tangerine being a soft dom whilst roughly fucking you. GOD THIS JUST SOUNDS AMAZING

black fem reader ofc !!

HOOKUP: The Extended Version

Tangerine x Chubby Black Reader

A/N: Ngl I had to Google what soft dom was. I hope I did okay!

Warnings: Public sex, unprotected sex with a one night stand, a little exhibitionism, interrupted sex, badly written British accents (sorry Brits I'm a dumb American)

Stifled grunts and heavy breaths are all you can hear between the legs of the man before you. All you remember are the lust-filled kisses that led you here and the quick utterance of the words "Name's Tangerine by the way," being whispered into your ear as he led you to the train bathroom.

Your plush, cherry red lips grip the tip of Tangerine's blushing cock. Red streak marks cover his shaft as you bob your head up and down. Despite both hands working down his shaft, he’s still too big for you please every inch of him. This thought is both slightly worrying and incredibly attractive, leaving your aching pussy dreaming about his length inside you. One hand moves down to his balls to gently massage them as the other puts in double the work to keep Tangerine satisfied.

"Fuckin' hell love," Tangerine moans as he uses your dreads to steer your head. ”Just like that.”

His long shaft reaches the deepest part of your throat causing you to gag. Tears prick at your eyes as he continues to face fuck you, allowing obscene noises to escape your lips. Your once perfect lipstick is no doubt completely ruined by the spit smeared on your face. Still the ecstasy of the moment distracts you from any worries, even as the train comes to a stop at Nagoya station.

Shadows of people move underneath the door as they exit the train. You both stop for a moment, too afraid that any sudden noises could alert someone to your compromising position. Tangerine almost looks angelic in the low light of the bathroom. His eyes are half-lidded and his breath is ragged. Sweat beads on his exposed chest and his hair is in disarray. Your attraction to him grows in the moment and you dip your head back between his legs, determined to give him the best orgasm of his life.

The strong thighs on either side of your head tense up in response to your tongue grazing his balls. You tentatively suck them, leaving more red smears in your wake. Tangerine’s moans are intoxicating as the train leaves the station. You doubted he’d ever made such noises with any of his other hookups. His eyes look like he’s been transported to another realm of bliss.

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ, you’re gonna be the death of me!” His exclamation was only a muffled whisper, but it was enough to make you work even harder.

Saliva coats his length; long strings of it fly across your face when he pulls out of your mouth. Tangerine’s forehead beads with sweat as he jerkily finishes on your lips. His body relaxes and his head lulls to the side in relief. Your cunt aches uncomfortably as you wait for him to recover. Your eyes notice more about Tangerine’s features now that you're looking at him clearly. With his coat discarded you can see the tattoos on his forearm and the St. Christopher necklace hanging low into his shirt.

“What’cha lookin’ at sweetheart?” Tangerine asks after noticing your gaze.

“Nothing, just admiring you,” you say coyly, getting up off the floor and straddling Tangerine.

His heartbeat is fast under your touch almost like his heart was about to explode from his chest. Despite Tangerine’s obvious nervousness his suave demeanor never ceases.

“If anyone should be admired it should be you darlin’.” He lets out a silenced grunt as you slide down onto his still erect cock. “You are unbelievably gorgeous.”

Your cheeks flush in response to Tangerine’s flattery, but you can barely process it. Tangerine slides his hands beneath your thighs, guiding you up and down his shaft. The feeling sends shivers of satisfaction down your spine. Tangerine's warm breath tickles your throat as he places hasty kisses along it. Your hips roll in desperation for more, more contact, more pleasure. Sounds of slapping skin and subdued moans fill the tight space of the train bathroom. Other passengers have yet to notice the commotion, but the idea that anyone could stumble in and see you riding a stranger only added to your hornyess. Your intensified moans must have given your thoughts away.

“You like that huh? Me fuckin’ you next to everyone,” Tangerine whispers. He juts his hips into you repeatedly causing a deep moan to come from both your mouths. Your slick runs down Tangerine's cock, perfectly lubricating his movements. Tangerine’s fingers rub over the rolls on your hips, tracing every stretch mark delicately. More shadows move underneath the door as the train stops at another station. The murmurs fade away, but another noise replaces it: banging on the bathroom door.

“Tangerine hurry up, we need to get off here!”

A hand clasps over your mouth. “No we don't, we get off at the end of the line!” Tangerine yells back. Tangerine’s other hand guides your hips to continue the pace as he yells to the unknown man behind the door. This whole situation was odd, but also a turn on in some twisted way. A warmth deep inside you builds.

“No, they want to see the kid now!” says the man, now sounding a little more desperate. “Haven’t you checked your messages?”

“I’m a little preoccupied at the moment.” Tangerine gives you a wink. “Sorry darlin’ but I’ve gotta cut this short,” he whispers in your ear.

You were expecting Tangerine to take you off his lap, but instead he pushes deeper inside you. Your pussy clenches hard when his tip brushes against the spongy spot inside your vagina. Tangerine’s hand continues to muffle the pornographic moans trying to escape your lips. The warmth in your core boils over, leaving you writhing in pleasure. Your orgasm rushes through your legs down to your toes and back. Shivers tingle your spine and your thighs shake in overstimulation.

“Fuck!” your exclamation is muffled but your sentiment is clear to Tangerine.

“I’d love to stay longer but I’ve got some business to take care of.” Tangerine places a peck on your lips before zipping up his pants. You stand up off his lap and watch as he collects himself. He’s kind of an odd businessman, at least you thought he’s a businessman. His confrontation with his partner leads you to believe otherwise. You're suddenly a little glad this mysterious man is leaving you but also incredibly curious. As the stranger you let fuck your brains out goes to leave the bathroom only one question comes out of your mouth.

“What the fuck kind of a name is Tangerine?”

Taglist:

@hatterripper31

@aiyaaayei

@vipersecret-blog

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carolmunson · 1 year

Text

what're you doing new years?

(bigmoney!steve x f!thick!reader)

recommended reading: peanut butter vibe once bitten, twice shy recommended listening: what're you doing new years eve? by ella fitzgerald brought to you in part by carol's christmas song blitz, and readers like you.

cw: minors dni. 18+. drinking, smoking (cigarettes), casual dominance, references to cocaine, bathroom smut, p in v, fingering (f!receiving), literal IDIOTS in love, fake dating trope, discussions of class relations, gambling, mild daddy kink

a/n: we made it, folks! dividers by @newlips

December 31st, 1996 - NYC The apartment smelled like fresh paint and saw dust. Sprawling and sunsoaked, a lot of open space. You assumed all the apartments in Tribeca looked like this, gorgeous inside and out. Expensive and old money, beautiful brick outsides with stunning interiors. Windows with ornate arches that went from floor to ceiling with deep sills for books or antiques that cost more than your mom's life insurance.

"It's really nice," you say, stepping into the open concept livingroom - Barcelona chairs and a sleek black couch sit on a plush carpet. It looked like a show room. The heels of your leather boots click and echo on the redone hardwood. Boxes and boxes of his life in Indiana are stacked in the room against the wall, trailing all the way to a full chef's kitchen. New appliances gleam with the film still on them, untouched.

"You wanna see my room? It's almost fully done," he smiles. Steve offers his hand to you but you're hesitant. He falters when he catches the gears turning in your head and puts his hand in his pocket, leading you with a cock of his head to the left. "Down that hallway s'a guest room, laundry, full bath," he rattles off pointing down one hallway while he leads you down another, tapping on closed doors, "A couple other rooms I haven't figured out yet. Broker said they'd make great nurseries. I had to laugh." He's trying to joke with you, but you know it hurts him to say that. He's always offhandedly mentioned how much he wants to be a dad.

"And here's my room, master bath, full dressing room -- you know, sort of just like home," he smiles, clicking open the door and guiding you inside. It's set up very much like his old room in Indiana, big kingsize bed with triple fluffed pillows and hotel style linens. Crisp white this time, slight navy accents, light wood. It was bright and airy, the gauzy curtains fluttered gently against the central heating vent.

"Very you," you smile, "It's like you never left."

"Some things never change," he shrugs, opening the double doors to the dressing room, "Come see."

The room is a little smaller than his bedroom, which means it's still bigger than your apartment. The way his clothes are hung in the cubbies and his shoes are oragnized on the shelves can only be described as sterile.

"It's not done, obviously, but, we're getting somewhere," he smiles.

"Oh good, right now it's a little serial killer-y," you laugh, noticing that the other side of the room is completely empty, "Lot of vacancy here. Planning on getting a whole new wardrobe? Bored of the Saint Laurent you already have?"

He rolls his neck slowly to stretch it out, looking over at you and the vacant side of the dressing room with heavy lids through his specs. He lets out of a soft chuckle, "Nah, wanted to keep it empty so you can fit all your clothes in there, too."

You swallow. A tight smile freezes your face when he says it and you remember the conversation you had outside of his office building in Indiana the week before. His hurt features when you left him abandoned back in the lobby while he called another cab home. You came home in tears, your mom and sister consoling you and your tipsy dramatics. 'Never thought you'd be the heartbreaker, honey.'

You know she didn't mean it like that, but it still stung. Who were you to give up someone like Steve Harrington? Steve Harrington who, after he went home and cried in his shower and called his best friend about it, still wanted you to put your clothes in his closet. Still wanted to watch you wake up in the morning and rush to get ready for work. Still wanted you to come up behind him while he made you both coffee on Sunday mornings. Still wanted you take you out to dinner every Friday night so you could both sleep in on Saturday mornings.

"You got plans for tonight?" he asks when you don't reply to his half truth of a joke. You jolt out of your trance when he asks, looking over to see him cleaning his glasses with the cloth he always keeps in his back pocket. A gentle flush of pink has made itself to his cheeks and nose, your shoulders sulk a bit. You want to give into his little fantasy, but that's all it is. It's his little fantasy that doesn't need to be a reality, he'll have it with someone else -- anyone else.

You clear your throat, "Uh, yeah, actually. Um, the head of marketing, she always invites the department to her uncle's fancy New Year's Eve party so I finally made the cut. Some ridiculous theme this year -- casino or something? Just so they can all throw their money around." Steve starts to laugh, tutting while he puts his glasses back on, hands on his hips. "What's so funny?" you ask, arms crossing against your chest.

"The party's in midtown, right? At the Plaza?" he asks, matching your posture.

"Technically it's more midtown east, but yes," you reply with more attitude than you were expecting. You don't like hearing him talk like he knows his way around New York when he's been here all of ten seconds. "Yeah, your department head's uncle is Carl. CEO of Slate Insurance, s'my boss. Why do you think I came out here a little early?" he smirks. Fuck.

"Don't look so disappointed," he says, walking towards you slowly, dropping his hands to meet your hips, "You wanna just go together?"

You step out of his hold and catch his shoulders drop in his sweater, a pang of guilt drives through your chest at his disappointment, "I can get there myself, it's no problem."

"I mean, it's not the kind of party you roll up to in a cab," he says matter of factly, like it's obvious, "You have to like, make an entrance."

"I wasn't going to take a cab," you glower. A rejected Steve was sometimes not a very kind Steve, all showboating and no substance -- he just wanted to be a jerk. "What were you planning to take?" he asks, brows raised over his frames in faux curiosity, "The subway?" "Better than showing up in that tacky green Porsche," you retort, cheeks burning at his meanhearted teasing. He grins and shakes his head. "I left the Porsche with my dad. I'll probably take the new Benz," he shrugs, cocking his head while he looks at you, "Well -- my driver'll take the new Benz, but you know what I mean." Your face sours, he was reaching the border of ugly cockiness. "Looks like you’re not into a Mercedes," he frowns, a faux apologetic look washing over his face, "You wanna ride in the Bentley instead?"

"You sound like such an asshole," you confess, walking out of the dressing room and back into his bedroom. "What? I can’t congratulate myself for getting a new job?" he bites back, following you, “I’m just tryna catch up to what my life is gonna look like here, Nat.”

“Not all of us have that life, Steve.”

He softens while looking at your back, he reaches out to rest a hand on your shoulder to turn you around, “M’not trying to be an asshole, I’m sorry.”

“S’okay,” you shrug, “I just—you know you can still be 'Hawkins Steve', Harrington. You don't have to be like these Wall Street guys.”

“I know,” he nods, both hands meeting your shoulders, “You wanna come with me tonight? Be my date? Carl’s sort of a traditional guy, it’ll be nice to make him think I’m some family man with a girl at home waiting for me.”

"Steve," you started, "We talked about this. This is your Christmas Party all over again." His eyes cast downward for a moment as the evening replays in his head at record speed. The day you left him, the day he realized he planned your whole future in his head but you didn't want that.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn--" you start before he comes back to himself in time to interrupt.

"You can be my fake date," he nearly whines, lips pouting.

"I dunno," you shrug, his hands slide from your shoulders to the dip of your waist.

"You don't want me spoiling you all night? C'mon. I gotta show off to these assholes," he asks, voice warm and soothing. His cologne ghosts your nose and your knees get weak, "And you're a great way to start showing off."

Your heart thrums when he speaks, it's so frustrating to be around someone so handsome, "Don't be stupid, Harrington."

"It's not stupid, Manhattan. It'll be fun, we're just playing pretend," he takes a step closer to you and you can see his stubble, the plushness of his lips.

You consider it, he fights off a smile because he knows you're about to say yes. Steve Harrington always gets what he wants. Steve Harrington always gets the girl.

"Just playing pretend, huh?" you challenge.

"Just playing pretend," he smiles, wrapping you in a gentle hug -- friendly, chaste, sweet, "I'll pick you up at seven."

The hug is soft -- but you can feel his heart beating hard against his chest.

Bbbrrrriiiinggg!

You run to your front door, pressing and holding the button on the intercom to buzz him in. You click the lock before escaping back into the bathroom to finish your face, makeup bag torn open in your sink. As you finish your lipstick you hear a soft knock echo down the hall.

"It's open!" you call, and the loud squeak of your front door screeches through your apartment.

"Y'know this could really use some WD-40," Steve says while he shuts the door behind him, "Do you have some? I can --"

You peek around the door frame, patting your lipstick into your lips with your finger. His eyes glint behind his glasses.

"Hey," he smiles, brushing some of the snow off of his coat.

"Hey," you smile back.

"You look pretty."

"So do you," you tease before escaping back into the mirror. He meets you at the frame of the bathroom door, leaning against it with his arms crossed.

"Should I start telling you I'm picking you up earlier so you'll be ready on time?" he asks, dipping his glasses down his nose to peer at you over the rims, "Or are you wearing pajamas?"

You roll your eyes mid-mascara application, throwing everything back in the bag when you finish, "I just have to put my dress on and then we can go, I promise."

You hurry to your bedroom, only mere steps away, pulling your dress out of it's bag hanging on your closet door, "Give me five minutes!"

You shut your door in his face, slipping the navy satin over your head. It wasn't anything too special -- vintage cut fit and flare. The curves of your body made it look more expensive than it was. Your tailor did wonders on it after you snagged it from a sad looking rack of sale dresses at Saks. You pulled on a pair of nude, gloss finish stockings -- silicone on the bands snapping around your thighs with a loud smack, before slipping on a pair of heels.

While grabbing a small purse to keep your effects in, you open the door to reveal Steve resting against the wall of the hallway. He looks inside, giving it a once over with one turn of his head.

"This is uh...cozy," he says, his smile is unethusiastic.

"Fuck off, Harrington," you groan, spritzing your ever declining bottle of Angel by Mugler across your chest and wrists.

"Let me look at you, hm?" he asks, stepping all the way into the room. You turn toward him, skirt of your dress swaying with the turn of your hips. His eyes unfocus for a moment, you hold back a chuckle -- men are so easy.

“So let me wrap my head around this real quick,” he puffs his chest a bit while he walks toward you. You giggle while walking backward, tripping on your heels, “You were gonna go to this party alone —”

“Wearing this?” he asks, catching you by the waist to steady you. He lets a finger drag from the halter strap of your dress, following the curves of your body downward, “That’s just not fair, Manhattan.”

“You’re Manhattan now, too, Steve,” you correct. His light touch sends a shiver through you and he lets out a satisfied hum. He smells like spice and evergreen, your mouth runs dry when his eyes linger on you for a little too long.

"C'mon, can't let Vinny wait too long for me down there. You're makin' me look bad," he says gently, taking you by the hand to your front door. He pulls your camel coat off the hook and holds it open for you, gliding it onto your arms with the finesse of a man who knows exactly how to treat a woman. Betrayal is the only emotion running through your chest as your body warms up against his touch.

Naturally, the Bently is the nicest car you've ever fucking seen.

He was right, you couldn't have shown up in a cab. There were paps everywhere and you couldn't understand why. It's not like there was any famous people here, just people with a shit ton of money. Were they famous by proxy? Would this show up on Page Six? If your networth had seven zeros, did you get welcomed into a hall of fame or something? Did everyone want to read about your life?

You squinted into the flashes of people taking pictures, Steve's hand immediately lacing with yours as you walked towards the entrance of the hotel.

"Careful, careful," he says, while you inch up the short icy stairway. Your heels clicking on the stone as you reach the doors, "Go slow."

"I'm okay, Steve," you assure, he looks back at you with doting eyes when you get inside.

"Just don't want you to hurt yourself, baby," he softly scolds before locking eyes with an usher for the party.

Oh, we're starting this now, you think to yourself. He walks with his hand still laced with yours while the usher leads you both to the Grand Ballroom, framed signs letting patrons know that the casino is in the Terrace Room down stairs. You immediately feel too broke to be here.

"Let me get your coat."

He undoes the button at your waist, smoothing your coat over your shoulders before removing his own. He checks them both and your eyes widen at the amount of cash you see in his wallet as he goes to pay. Gulping hard while he fingers through the bills -- hundred after hundred gleaming back at you.

He turns when he's done, running a hand through is hair, and gives you a very Harrington smile, "You ready?"

Your words catch in your throat while you look at him. His suit is perfectly tailored, the shirt patterned, but silk and neatly pressed. His leather banded watch sits perched on his wrist -- you can tell it's new. His pants hugged his thighs, streamlined in a straight line down to his ankles -- shoes freshly shined. Being handsome like this had to be a crime in some counties, there was no way he was just allowed to look like this and be rich.

"You ready, baby?" he asks again, offering his hand, "Come on."

Something about being called baby by him feels so natural. Like you forgot your own name and that's the only one that could get your attention. Baby, angel, princess, honey. You'd look up immediately and search for him at the sound of his voice. You'd know he meant you.

But he's not your boyfriend. This is just pretend. This is not what you want.

When the doors open, you can't breathe. The ballroom is completely transformed in gold and silver. The lights and chandeliers catch the decorations in a show of shimmer. Like the whole room was waiting to start glittering until you got there.

"Holy shit," you whisper.

"Yeah we're definitely not in Indiana anymore," he mutters to you. You feel his hold tighten on your hand in a show of something you hardly see from Steve. He's nervous.

You look up at him, eyes riding up from his jaw, cheek bone, to his eyes behind his glasses. His gaze roves over the party and he licks his lips, brow quirking before he makes a decision.

"You okay?" you ask, he looks down at you with a soft look in his eyes.

"I'm perfect," he says with a nod. The room is sprawling with tables and he's able to finesse a way to get you both to sit together even though the seating chart had you woefully distanced. It doesn't surprise you how easily he's able to assimilate to making things work for him here. You see his performance again and again: with the waiters, with how he orders drinks, how he checks his watch, how he smiles at people walking by.

You're both at the bar when you see it in full force, his arm protectively around your waist, thumb grazing the smooth fabric to keep him grounded.

"Steven?"

You both look over, an old man with a thick, white walrus mustache in a stunning black suit comes close to approach you. His wedding band is a shining platinum to match the watch on his wrist -- sapphires sit in the face of the metal backing. You wonder briefly how much it costs.

"Oh, Carl!" Steve beams, letting go of your waist for a moment to shake the man's hand, "How are you? Beautiful event -- really stunning."

"Thanks, thank you, but you ought to tell that to my wife. She's the one who plans these things, I just foot the bill," he laughs. His light eyes linger on you and you flush.

"And who's this? She looks like she just walk right out of Old Hollywood."

You introduce yourself, hand reaching out to shake his but he takes it to his lips to press a kiss to your hand. If he wasn't Steve's boss you wouldn't have smiled at the gesture -- but ah well.

"This is my girl, Carl. The one I was telling you about," Steve says with a blush.

"Just your girl?" he asks, eyes noting to your empty ring finger, "Hope she's your fiancé soon, Harrington."

"Sooner than she thinks. I promise, sir," they both laugh. Steve's hand returns to your waist and it feels like a leash. They talk for a moment, Steve passing you a drink while he does. It's business and you don't care, the drink is liquor forward and your face sours at the first sip.

"Sorry baby, that's whiskey. That's mine," he switches your drinks seamlessly while still in conversation. "We're just so happy to have you, Harrington -- my son Chuck, he's y'know, he's got no fuckin' clue what he's doin'. I blame myself, me and Muffy let him do whatever he wanted," Carl complains, "So I think havin' someone who just gets the business will be really helpful. I know you'll start guiding him in the right direction."

"I mean Carl, I was the same when I was twenty-six, he'll get there," it was like Steve had known him his whole life. He keeps his hands on you while the talk continues, two more men joining in. C-Suites. Big money. Important people. You're just a piece of art hanging on his arm.

You need to get the fuck out of here.

As if the heavens heard your plea, a call of your name takes you out of your bored trance.

"Over here!"

You sigh with relief at the sight of your coworker, also head to toe in shimmering Saks ready to wear in a sea of authentic Dior and Chanel.

"S'cuse me," you say gently, tugging out of Steve's grasp. He looks down at you a little sternly, you frown.

"Excuse me, I'm so sorry. A friend of mine is looking for me, it was great to meet you all," you smile at the group of men, stepping away delicately on your heels until they aren't paying attention. As they continue talking your run on the balls of your feet into your friend's arms.

"Rob, oh my god, what the fuck are we doing here?" you laugh. Robin Buckley looks like a million bucks, but you know she only makes $49k a year because you do, too.

"We do not belong here," she laughs with you, "Do you wanna go lose some money with me downstairs?"

"Yes, yes, one hundred percent," you not, "Get me away from these stiffs."

"So that's Steve?" Robin asks, passing you a glass of champagne while you finish the last sip of the margarita Steve got you a little earlier.

"That's Steve," you murmur, immediately letting the bubbles slide past your lips.

"He's really something," she grins, "You're complaining about being smothered by that?"

"Stop Rob, you don't even like guys," you tease, nudging her knee with the tip of your heeled toe.

"I don't have to like guys to know when a guy is hot," Rob says through a sip of her drink, "And he's fucking hot. Like, Tom Cruise hot. Top Gun hot."

"Oh, stop."

"Jerry Maguire hot -- and like, super fucking rich, obviously. That's a Prada suit. Are you kidding? Talk about 'show me the money,' he's showing you, babe."

"Yeah, but like," you frown a little, "You know how all the guys in finance always talk about how much they hate their wives? And all their wives are Tribeca moms who keep going on retreats to 'work on themselves' after they get cheated on?"

"Of course, that's like, the Tribeca mom rite of passage," she agrees, crossing her thin legs, her sequin dress shimmered in the low, warm, light.

"So, Steve just moved to Tribeca -- it's like...like I'm staring my future right in the face," you exclaim, another sip meeting your lips, "And it's not like I look like any of those women either. I'll be going on my first retreat in three months tops."

"Okay, well one, you have no idea what you're talking about," Robin shakes her head, "You're a smokeshow."

"And two, isn't Steve from Kansas or something?"

"Indiana."

"Same thing," she waves you off, "Steve's from Arkansas. He doesn't have the same mindset as the guys who came here when they were teenagers to jerk off at frat parties at NYU."

"They'll get to him," you shake your head, looking at her with a knowing glance, "They always do."

You both make your way over to the slot machines, weaving through crowds at roulette and craps tables, snaking by chairs sat at poker games. The piles of chips make you sweat. There was a lot of money down here.

"This is all I can handle, cards are so boring," Robin sits down on the plush leather of the seat across from the machine while you take the one next to her. You both play a few rounds in silence before she looks over at you again.

"Do you know what I think?" she asks, champagne glass empty in her hand.

"What do you think, Buckley?" you ask, finishing the last sip of yours.

"I think Andy fucked you up a little and you can't believe someone like Steve wants to be with you, so you're pushing him away," she says with a shrug, "You're trying to hurt him before he can hurt you."

"You sound ridiculous."

"I sound ridiculous or I sound right on the money?" she asks, pulling the lever on the machine. It runs and stops, she doesn't win.

"Sounds like you're not on the money at all," you shrug.

"Shut up," she laughs, "I'm just saying, I think you're really convinced he's settling when I think it's pretty clear he likes you a lot."

"You don't even know him!" you exclaim, running the machine over again.

"Looks like I might get to know him," she smirks. You turn toward the entrance and there he is, frowning while peering through the room. He's squinting behind his glasses trying to find you in the low light, hands in his pockets. For a moment you think about letting him not find you, maybe he'd pick someone else up at the party. Hell, women were gawking at him from the moment he walked in -- he had plenty to pick from.

But the desperation on his face made your heart ache -- this really was your world. Maybe he really did need you to help show him around.

Against your own judgement, you wave, hoping he'd catch you in the sea of people. You don't have to wait long to see his smile when he catches you, waving back and disappearing in the crowd.

"Hey, there you are," he breathes with a small jog towards you, "Thought I lost you."

"No, no, just out here draining my Christmas bonus," you laugh, tugging on the lever again. Robin looks over and smirks at you when he rests his hand on the back of your neck under your hair, thumb grazing the skin under the hinge of your jaw.

"This is Robin, she's my friend from work," pointing your thumb at her. Always the business man, he leans over you to shake her hand.

"Steve -- nice to meet you," he grins.

"Oh, I know who you are," she teases. You shoot her a look, but it falters. The way his hand leaves your neck to stroke over your head, gently enough to not ruin your hair, makes you melt. It had to be the booze. The haze of cigarette smoke making you woozy.

The lights of the machine infront of you flash wildly, the music sounding, screen glowing - WINNER! JACKPOT! WINNER!

"Oh, fuck yes!" you cheer while the chips fall into into the opening at the bottom.

"Come on!" Robin huffs, "I've put in at least twenty more dollars than you have."

"Didn't pick the lucky machine, Rob," you joke, collecting the chips in a stack in your hand. "How much did you win?" he asks, trying to count them while you clumsily try to keep them together.

"I think just a hundred bucks, so -- eighty dollar profit!"

"Ugh don't say profit, we're at a party," Robin groans, pulling the lever down on her machine hastily.

"Let me take those," Steve says, collecting the chips and putting them in his suit pocket, "I have to go get some anyway."

He pulls out his wallet, thumbing through bills and plucks an $100 out. He folds it, handing it to you, "Now you don't have to cash them."

"Steve..." you scold softly. He takes your hand and presses the bill into it, closing your fingers over the paper. He smiles, thumbing through his wallet again while you put the money in your purse. He plucks out another bill and holds it out in front of Robin. Her mouth hangs open at the gesture.

"Steve!" you raise your voice but he thinks the reproachful look on your face is just too cute.

"Sorry Rob, I think he's drunk," you apologize, embarrassed beyond measure.

"What? I think she deserves a consolation prize," he smiles. Robin plucks the bill from his fingers, putting it in her wristlet.

"I think he should be drunk around me way more often if this is how he acts," she rasps. Steve throws her a wink, arm snaking around you once you get up from the slot machine stool.

"S'it okay if I steal her from you?" he asks. You swallow thickly, both hating and loving how he pulls you around this party like you're his property.

"Steal her, take her home, take her kidneys, I don't care," she laughs, "Do whatever you want, consider me paid off."

"I'll see you later, Rob!" you smile, reaching out and squeezing her hand. As Steve turns around with you, you look back at her. She gives you an exasperated look -- 'What the fuck is wrong with you? He's great.'

He is great. That's what makes it so hard.

He leads you over to the chip exchange, fingers grazing your back while he lets go of your waist. His hand sneaks into suit jacket where he pulls out a wad of cash secured by a shining gold money clip.

"Can I get four grand in hundreds?" he asks.

"Steve that's -- stop," you huff, "Who're you trying to impress?"

"Impress?" he scoffs, "The buy in for blackjack is five hundred dollars, baby. This is just fuck around money."

"Here," he says, plucking a glass of champagne off of a waiter's tray as he offers them. Steve passes it to you, "Have a drink, stop pouting. It's a holiday."

You sip it bitterly while you wait and he sighs at you, pressing a kiss to your forehead before reaching back into his jacket pocket. He pulls out a cigarette and a silver lighter, embers glowing while he inhales, lighter escaping back to its hiding place.

"Hey," he says, blowing the smoke out away from you, "Wanna smile for me?"

You smile, it's fake and exaggerated, he laughs into his next drag, "I'll take it."

The attendant passes Steve a rack of chips, neatly rowed but as he's about to take them his name is called. Yet another group of stiffs asking for his attention.

"Will you hold this for me, honey? Thank you," he asks softly, passing you the rack. You nod while you take it, desperately hoping this conversation goes quicker than the last one. He introduces you like you brought you on a leash and they all shake your hand like you're a show pony that got gussied up to leave the stable. You're not a person, just an accessory -- and you know they're surprised at his choice, but he doesn't need the extra social currency.

You keep sipping your champagne and shutting up, but your ears perk up when you hear him mention you, "You know she just put together this wild campaign for their lipstick line with the creative team, she might as well have produced it. And now their quarterly has that lipstick up fourteen percent and growing. And here we are with just -- what? Claims? How do we even market that? She swears what she does is boring."

You blush at his praise. So he does listen when you complain about work.

The conversation changes and you're bored again, eyes surveying the crowd of long elegant women and handsome stuffy men. Cheers roaring from tables, the sounds from the slot machines, it seemed less overwhelming with a few drinks in you. You guessed upstairs was for the boring people.

"Have you ever even seen four grand before?" you hear sneering your way. You look up and there he is -- the heartbreaker whose heart you barely broke by breaking up with him. The boy who hardly cared.

“Andy?” you ask, brows pulling inward in disgusted shock, “What’re you doing here?”

Andy had gotten a new attitude after he got a new job, suddenly too good for you and your old group of friends. Suddenly telling everyone he broke up with you. Telling everyone he shouldn't settle for less. The glasses of champagne you’ve had finally meet your brain, making you woozy and nervous. The glittering decorations on the ceilings marry the lights and cross over your vision. Andy sparkles in front of you, his friends faded out behind him. A scene in slow motion.

You feel Steve’s hand on your waist, giving you little squeezes so you don’t feel like he’s ignoring you while he talks to his new colleagues about stocks and sales. Boring metrics that you’d care about if it mattered.

“I was invited. Perks of Chuck being my boss,” he gives you a smarmy smile, knowing you’re only here by proxy. Not because you’re important, not in the same way that—

“Whose this asshole?” Andy scoffed, giving Steve a once over. You hear Steve’s pleasant, ‘Sorry fellas, if you’d excuse me…’ to his group as he turns toward Andy and his friends. He flashes a charming Harrington smile.

“Andy! Nice to see you again, man,” he raises his champagne flute toward him cheerily. Andy looks at Steve with a furrowed brow, confused but sly.

“Sorry, guy. Not sure we’ve met,” he laughs — covered in new money sleaziness, his friends laugh with him, “Nat must’ve told you all about me, I guess.”

You feel Steve’s posture change — confident and cocky. His head tilts the way it does when you know he’s about to say something mean. Your body heats up when he places his empty glass on the platter of a near by server, putting the free hand in his pocket.

“We met in Indiana,” he corrects, confidence unfaltering, “You don’t remember?”

“Indiana?” Andy scoffs again. Your face twists into something Steve doesn’t like, a mix of annoyed and embarrassed.

“Well, since you’re at a loss let me reintroduce myself,” he smirks. He puts his hand out shake your ex’s, Andy loosely shakes it back.

“Name’s Steve,” he introduces himself with a warm genuine quality that people learn from years of sales work, clapping his other hand over Andy’s, “Steve Harrington. I’m Natalie’s boyfriend.”

He says it so casually that you immediately flush, it sounds too natural.

“Oh,” Andy says, surprised. He gives you a once over, offering you a pathetic glace, “You're dating her? You're her boyfriend?”

“Her boyfriend,” he lilts, taking his hand away. He slinks an arm back around your waist, tucking his shoulder behind yours, “And sorry, couldn't help but over hearing -- You said Chuck’s your boss? Chuck at Slate Insurance?”

“Yeah, and?” Andy asked, annoyed. Steve let out a gentle chuckle, the kind that sounds rich. The kind that sounds like a trust fund with seven figures.

“Oh, that’s—hoo!— that’s funny,” he teases, but it comes out cool and uncaring. He bites his lip to keep from laughing more, giving Andy a judgmental once over.

“What’s so funny about it?” he asks, arms crossing in a huff causing his cheap suit to crease.

“Oh, it’s uh, it’s funny because I’m Chuck’s boss,” he gestures toward him before tucking his hand back in his pocket, “So I guess I’ll see ya Monday, champ.”

Andy chokes on his sip of champagne, you bite back a mean giggle that bubbles in the seat of your chest.

“Now, hate to be rude but, my woman and I are gonna head over to the roulette table,” Steve starts, beginning to move you over to the next room with him, “Unless — you know, unless you’d care to join us. You feelin’ lucky?”

Andy’s face has gone red, eyebrows sloped down, a prominent wrinkle forming on his forehead. His friends look into their drinks, coughing and shifting awkwardly while they watch the exchange.

“No?” Steve asks, a slight taunt to his voice. Andy shakes his head no, “Ah well, suit yourself, I guess. Say bye, angel.”

Steve nudges you with his shoulder and you burn under the instruction, lifting your gaze to Andy who looks like he could maul Steve at any second, “Bye, Andy,” you mutter, your voice trailing higher than normal.

“See you around, man. Next time I catch ya, I'll give you the number to my tailor,” Steve's eyes linger on the hem of Andy's trousers -- sloppy and too long for him. He let's out a soft 'hm' before meeting Andy's gaze and shooting him a wink with a steely grin. Steve leads you out of the chip exchange by the small of your back, passing you another glass of champagne.

“Drink that before you say whatever smart thing you wanna say,” he says, hand dropping from your back to clasp with yours while he leads you through the throngs of people to the roulette table.

“I wasn’t gonna say anything,” you lie.

“Pfft, okay,” he shakes his head in front of you, but you don’t need to see him to know that he’s rolling his eyes. You arrive at the edge of the table, oak wood bumping into your hip.

“I’m not much of a gambler,” you confess, taking your places around the table closer to the wheel. He kisses your cheek before taking your chin between his fingers gently.

“You thought I’d have you dropping your own cash here? That’s cute,” he teases with his voice low enough so the other players couldn't hear, “Daddy’s gonna gamble, baby. You’re just gonna watch.”

“Steve,” you blush, “Don’t say that.”

“I don't know,” he shrugs coolly while placing his chips, turning back to you when he's done, "I think you like when I say that."

He wins big at roulette, of course he does. He's Steve Harrington.

Now he has you nestled on his lap while he plays black jack, your hips and thighs spilling over the leg you're perched on. Everyone's drunk so no one cares that you're not supposed to do that, as long as your hands are in view of the dealer. It's not a real casino anyway.

His breath hits that spot between your neck and shoulder that makes you squirmy, hips rolling achingly slow on his thigh when he does it. You have half a mind to think he's doing it on purpose.

"Watch yourself, angel," he mumurs, placing a hand firmly on your hip to steady you, "Don't want you to fall."

You watch him play, him and his colleagues, some men he doesn't know -- they're betting real big. Big enough that you had the pleasure of holding two more racks of chips for him while the other two were stacked on the table in front of you.

The three other men have either had too many or are sitting between 12 and 16 in their cards. He has fourteen in front of him, a jack, a three of hearts, and an ace. You watch him tap the table to hit and then double down, you gulp. A fourteen thousand dollar bet, and it's just chump change to most of the guys down here.

The dealer hits, a seven of clubs slapping down on the table. "Blackjack."

He smirks and the table claps while the dealer expertly slides over $35,000 in chips which you load dutifully onto the empty racks on the table next to you.

"Really got lady luck on your side tonight, huh Harrington?" the older man next to him asks. You feel Steve's hand clap your thigh.

"Actually, she's on my lap," he smiles and you flush at his teasing, listening to them talk while the dealer shuffles for the next round. His hand slides over your thigh and he talks to the guys at the table like he's not driving you insane when he toys when the hem of your dress.

"Can I get anyone a drink?" a waitress asks the table. You turn to Steve while the men start to order, some glasses of wine, some full bottles of liquor.

"Get whatever you want, honey," he says, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. The waitress looks to you expectantly and you smile. It's probably the first non-horny smile she's gotten all night.

"Can I get a bottle of Dom for the table, please?" you ask, "The earliest vintage you have."

You were pushing your luck -- but you were at a blackjack table. He squeezes your thigh and you squeal under his touch while the dealer starts the game.

"Didn't know my girl was so greedy," he teases in your ear. Your lip quirks.

"M'not really your girl, Stevie," you whisper back.

"No?" he murmurs back to you, hand skimming your dress up the side of your thigh, "Spending my money like you are."

You blush hard, he loves how easy it is to fluster you once you've had a few. Still lucid, less tightly wound. He liked when you loosened up for him, when you relaxed into his touch with all these people around.

The Dom comes and the waitress starts pouring glasses, Steve gets the bill and shoots you a look when you go to peer over the leather.

"Don't be rude, baby," he tuts, tilting it away from you. There were way too many numbers in the total for a bottle of champagne.

"Sorry, Steve," you mumble while he passes the waitress his credit card with the bill. The champagne is dry and heavenly and your smile when you take the first sip makes all the money he paid worth it.

"You like it?" he asks, attention going back to the game.

"Mhmm," you nod into your next sip.

"Good," he smiles, "Have another bottle at home we can break into later."

Home. Oh. He wants you to go home with him. Was that the plan? Were you following through with the fake date thing the whole time? All night?

"Hm," is all you reply. He keeps winning big -- but you're really the only thing he's betting on.

It's starting to get a little late and the party is picking up. All the screens in the casino have Dick Clark on, the big party on the other side of town is ramped up to eleven.

Steve holds your hand at the chip exchange, the manager and two security guards stand by while they stack bundles of cash for Steve. You know the short set of bands is more money than you've ever seen in your life, it almost makes you nervous.

"This isn't gonna fit in my money clip, angel, can I borrow your purse?" he asks sweetly. Your purse isn't huge, but it can fit the money in it.

"Uh, um, yeah," you say, you mouth running dry while he puts at least forty grand in your bag.

"Thank you, baby," he smiles, the booze affecting his grin. You let him lead, taking you out of the casino and back upstairs to the ball room. There are people everywhere, but more importantly, there is food.

You both don't even think about it, manuevering to the buffet in silence, giggling while you load up plates with obscure hors d'oeuvres and different types of bread and dessert. You sit at the table, barely talking while you eat, but stealing glances at each other.

"I think this is octopus, try it for me and tell me," he says, holding out a small sauteed tentacle on a cracker with avocado.

"I'm not trying it for you!" you laugh, "Try it for yourself. Don't be such a wimp."

"C'mon, just try it for me, tell me if it's good," he smiles, leaning his chin on his other hand to watch you. He pushes the cracker further towards your mouth and you give in, lettling him pop the bite sized morsel into your tongue. His fingertips brush your lips and he swallows, adams apple bobbing slowly against his collar.

"Definitely octopus," you nod.

"You're so brave," he says dreamily, fingertip booping against your nose.

"Okay weirdos, enough with your fake date, let's go dance," Robin's voice booms from a couple tables over while she walks towards you. She grabs both of your hands to lead you to the crowded dance floor. The live band plays fast jazz and the three of you make up what you can to it. Robin really taking the prize for most creative dance moves.

"Is she okay?" Steve asks, giving you a little spin. You look at her and back at him, nodding.

"Yeah, she'll sleep good tonight," you let him lead, arm wrapped around your waist. The music slows and he hums to himself, pulling you closer.

"This is nice," his voice is warm and low, "This is what I wanted all night."

"To dance with me?" you ask softly. He nods, a bashful smile curling up his lips, glasses slipping a little down the slope of his nose. You push them up gently, putting your arms back around his neck.

"I really like dancing with you," he whispers, noses close to brushing each other.

"Thanks."

His bashful smile turns to a tight one, "Look, I'm sorry about the fiance and boyfriend stuff with Carl and Andy. That was outta line, I shouldn't have said all that shit."

"It's okay," you assure, but he's not done talking.

"I'm sorry if I've been laying it on too thick all night," he says apologetically, "Got too committed to the part, I guess."

"S'fine Steve," you say, looking up at him, "It's just pretend."

Hurt flashes in his eyes, brows softening when you say it.

"Yeah...it's just pretend," he mutters. He loosens his hold on your waist and you can tell he's embarrassed. You can feel his hands become clammy over the fabric of your dress, skidding against the satin while they move.

A woman gets to the center of the stage, a beautiful 40s gown clinging tight to her curves while she grips the microphone. The opening words of Ella Fitzgerald's, 'What're you Doing New Years Eve' , starts with the band.

"Aw, you don't hear this song a lot," you smile, "My dad loved this song."

"Yeah?" he asks. He takes a deep breath, looking at the other couples getting close, nuzzling, kissing. Diamond rings dazzling in the light, wedding bands glinting in his eyes.

"C'mere," he says, reinvigorated to keep up the charade. His arm snakes all the way around you, chest to chest, his other hand holding yours. He rests his forehead against yours, moving slow with you to the music, the instrumental lulling you both into the fantasy you both created.

Steve had such a way of making it feel like it was just the both of you.

'Maybe it's much too early in the game, Ah, but I thought I'd ask you just the same, What are you doing New Year's, New Year's eve?'

"It's a pretty song," he says.

"Yeah," you agree, lost in how he looks at you.

'Maybe I'm crazy to suppose, I'd ever be the one you chose, Out of the thousand invitations you received.'

You rest your head on his chest while the horns solo, the hand on your waist trailing up to brush your hair and cup your face.

"Hey, look at me," his voice is quiet, "Wanna see your pretty face, Manhattan."

"I look tired," you complain, looking back up at him with a scrunch of your nose. His thumb slides over your cheek bone.

"You look perfect," he confesses.

'Ah, but in case I stand one little chance, Here comes the jackpot question in advance, What are you doing New Year's, New Year's Eve?'

"Hey Nat," he starts.

"Mhm?"

"What if it --" he lets out a breath through his nose, "What if it wasn't pretend?"

"What?"

10!

"What if we didn't have to pretend?" he asks, "What if we just...what if we just were each other's real dates? Cause like --"

"Steve, come on."

"You can't pretend like this doesn't feel right," he pleads, "Like this doesn't feel real."

"Steven, I told you this morning--"

"Baby, I haven't stopped thinking about you since you left me at the office," he confesses, "Thinking about how to change your mind. I want you so bad, Nat. You have no fucking idea."

"I'm just the only person to tell you no," you assure, "That's the only reason you want me."

"No, I promise that's not it," he urges, both of his hands cupping your cheeks while he talks. The cheering getting louder around you at the clock ticks closer to midnight.

"You're not gonna want this after a month of you being here. Look at everyone around you Steve -- I don't fit in here," you say, "Don't you want a trophy wife? Someone who everyone gawks over?"

"Have you seen yourself?" he asks, eyes wild, "Had to walk behind you all night so all these guys would stop staring at you."

"Steve you're just...settling," you finally say it and it feels like a weight has floated off your chest, "This was the opposite of what you came to New York for."

"Settling? Are you stupid?"

"You wanted to do something new and exciting," you counter.

"You are new and exciting," he can't believe the words coming out of your mouth, "You are why I wanted to be here. I wanted to do something new with you."

"I've been sitting in Hawkins for the last five years thinking about how much fun you're having out here. Thinkin' about how much fun we could have together -- haven't stopped fucking thinking about you since the night I met you in Porter's."

"You're just saying that," you argue, lump growing in your throat, "You're just drunk."

"I'm not just saying that, please just listen to me" he pleads, "Fuck Nat, I --"

"I love you."

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

Silver and gold metallic confetti pours from the ceiling, your breath hitches while it glitters on it's way down.

"I love you so much, it hurts," he confesses, eyes shining behind his frames, "I just -- I think I loved you the whole time."

Your mouth falls open against his hold on your cheeks.

"You don't have to say it back, I--"

You stop his sentence with your lips against his. The kiss he wanted to give you all night. It feels like an old movie kiss with with way his arms wrap tight around your back and waist and your hands meet his face.

He breaks away from you for a moment, locking his eyes with yours.

"I really mean it," he murmurs, "I love you."

"I --," his eyes linger on yours, your cheeks heat up, "Steve."

"Yeah?"

"I love you, too."

He knew it. God, he fucking knew it.

The lock clicks and he checks it once, twice, three times before caging you in against the wall. There weren't any families here so it's not like anyone was looking to use the bathroom with a changing table. Everyone was using the lounge bathroom for coke anyway.

"Fuck, you're so pretty," he gasped into your mouth, "You're so fucking pretty."

"Thanks," you breath against his kiss. His lips trail from your mouth down your jaw, lips sliding down your neck to your chest. His tongue is warm and wet on your skin and you sigh up to the ceiling at the feel of it.

He manhandles you at the sound, arms overtaking you to shove the complimentary products on the sink's counter and throw you onto it. You look at him with swollen lips from his kiss, eyes begging. He grabs your hand to press it firmly up against his erection, staring down at you down the slope of his nose, “That’s how you got me all night, lookin' at me like that. Wearin' this dress -- what's wrong with you, hm?”

"S'wrong with me?" you slur, dragging your hand back over his cock without his guidance, "S'wrong with you? This suit fitting you so nice, that stupid fancy watch?"

"Stupid? My Patek?" he laughs, "It was nine grand, don't call it stupid."

"You're disgusting," you spit, but it doesn't have the bite you can normally dish. The way he lingers over you makes you lose your edge.

"Mmm, love when you're a little mean," he groans while he buries his face in your neck, reaching for the hair at the nape of it, tugging just enough to make your thighs twitch, "Get to watch you get so nice for me."

You feel his lips drag over your sensitive skin, pulling it in between his teeth to bite down. He takes in your scent, grunting into your jaw while the perfume he likes rules his senses. He's rough, hungry. He's a little drunk, but so are you.

You thighs part to make room for him, ass nearly hanging off the counter while his hips press into you. You run a hand through his silky hear while he assaults your neck, eyes reeling when he hits that spot right past the base.

"You all wet?" he asks in your ear, gravelly voice booming in your chest. His hand skates up your fleshy inner thigh, heat greeting him like an old friend.

"I'm so wet, Steve," you whine back, pushing your hips against his fingertips while he strokes over your satin covered clit.

"Yeah, you're so wet for me?" he mocks, "I got you all worked up out there?"

"Y-yeah," you whimper while his fingers toy with your panty line, inching inward. He's smug when he feels what's waiting for him behind the fabric.

"Showing you off all night? Throwin' all my cash around?" he growls, a finger sliding in between your legs, "Givin' it all to you to hold on to? That got you all hot and bothered?"

"Y-yes, yeah," you nod, biting your lip to keep quiet.

"Oh-ho baby, they can't hear you out there -- party's gettin' a little rowdy," he teases, "Go ahead an' moan for me."

A second finger follows his first and you start whimpering with every thrust, every flick of his wrist. You grip the counter, skirt of your dress falling back as your thighs lift up and out involuntarily.

"Steve," you moan it like a prayer, it echos back at you, "Shit, fuck, just like that."

"Good girl, baby," he grins, more so when your hips rock in time with his fingers, "Oh, you showin' off now?"

"Sh-shut up, Steve," you chuckle between gasps, face crumpling again while he grazes your g-spot with his fingers. Your walls grip him, gushing over his knuckles. A lazy smile falls onto your face while your hips pick it's rhythm with his fingers.

"Love when you smile like that for me," he says softly, pressing a kiss against your lips -- the facade of your rich, sexy, big money fuck toy falling away, back to his Hawkins beginnings, "You look so beautiful."

"You think I'm beautiful?" you tease against his lips, but you know the answer.

"Don't think it, I know it," he whispers between pecks.

He takes out his wallet with his free hand, flipping it open, using his nimble fingers to pull out the condom he'd kept in there tonight just in case. His other fingers ease out of you slowly, tossing you a stern look when you whine.

"Be patient, pl-- Jesus, baby," he melts when you take his fingers, still shining with your slick, directly into your mouth. You make a big show of letting them leave your mouth with a wet pop, his mouth hanging open, eyes unfocused.

"Just wanted to clean up my mess," you say with an innocent shrug.

"You're gonna kill me," he breathes out, sliding the condom on and tossing the wrapper to his feet. Your legs part immediately, skirt of your dress falling way with your thighs, the roll of your tummy poking out to the cool air as you hold your legs up close to your chest.

"You're okay? You want this?" he asks, "I know you had a few."

"I want this," you nod, "I want it."

"Good, cause it's yours," he grins, gliding the tip down from your clit to your entrance, "S'all yours."

"All mine," you whine, sighing high and breathy while the tip breaches inside. Your hips roll instinctively to feel more of him and he obliges, pushing in a third of the way to feel you make room for him. The moan you let out makes him bite his lip. You feel so good around him.

"Who fills you up like me, huh?" he pants while he pulls out and pushes back in, gripping the fat of your thighs hard enough to bruise. "No one, Steve," you moan back, while he rocks against you, "P-please more, please." His lips fall open when you ask, "More, huh? You want all of it?"

You nod feverishly, gripping his shoulders, nails nearly ripping the fabric of his dress shirt as you pull him by the hips. He laughs, locking his hips in place where only half of him was snugly inside you. He adjusts his glasses, peering at your through them, "Say please again, angel." "Please, Stevie," you beg, hips shimmying. He tutts at you, pushing a little farther in and a whine peals through you.

"Like that?" he asks, "You want a little more?"

"Please, please, please," you huff, the stretch of him slowly moving in driving your eyes to the back of your head. The bulbous tip creeping past your g-spot unbearably slow -- juices seeped out of you over him.

"Please, please, please. All that whining, think this is all you can handle angel," he mocks gently, hand cupping your cheek. His thumb grazes over your lip while he starts his thrusts again -- half way to all the way out.

"No, no, all of it, please," you grovel, "Please. It's mine."

You bite your lip, eyes watering while the pleasure builds below your belly -- you're aching for the fullness of him.

Your eyes round in neediness, overtaken by the wetness between your legs, the way he touches you, "Please, daddy." "Fuck, baby," he groans while he pushes in to the hilt, lips finding yours while he readjusts. His arm reaches around your back to angle you differently, caging you in against the mirror on the wall. His other hand snakes up to the back of your neck, pulling you in for a deep kiss, all deep breaths and tongue. Steve's hips roll against yours, shallow thrusts to keep himself as buried inside of you as possible, "See what happens when you — mmm — ask me nicely?" You roll your eyes but he thrusts again and your head lolls back against the mirror, “Sh-shut up, you’re so— you’re so — ah! oh fuck, fuck, fuck.”

“I’m so what? We’re you gonna say ‘I’m so annoying’?" he grins into another kiss. You can feel his tip pushing against your cervix with every short thrust. Your body stretched around him with ease, making you gasp with every thrust of his hips, “M’so deep you can’t even talk right.”

He presses his forehead against yours, eyes shut tight while sweat builds on his forehead, "Oh shit, shit you feel so good."

"Harder, please," you whisper. He nods against you, picking up the pace of his thrusts and he has to cover your mouth to drown own the sounds coming out of you.

"Shh, shh, not too loud baby," he giggles, "Don't wanna lose my job."

You take a deep breath through your nose, trying to maintain your composure while you pulse tighter and tighter around him.

"Steve you...oh my god, yes, yes, like that," you slur out while he holds you steady on the counter, watching you come undone around him. "Say you're mine," he says, grunting between thrusts, "Say you're all mine."

"M'all yours Steve, all yours," you nod, eyes pooling with tears as each thrust sends you closer to seeing white, "Oh fuck, fuck -- I'm gonna cum, ohmygod m'gonna cum."

"Cum for me angel," he says through gritted teeth, getting close himself, "Cum for me."

Your legs vibrate when he pulls your hair to bare your neck to him, final thrusts sending blinding pleasure through your body. You shake and spasm beneath him, whining and mewling at the come down.

"That's it, baby," he coos while you gasp back to reality, "That's my girl." He buries his face in your neck when his hips stutter, groaning, gripping your legs so hard you know you'll bruise.

"Mmm, god," he grunts, "Oh fuck, I'm gonna -- oh, baby --"

You both rest against eachother, breathing heavy, hands roaming. He pulls out slowly while he softens, discarding the used condom in the trash. You go to move but he stops you, pulling up his briefs and pants and cleaning you up gently.

"You okay?" he asks, "That felt good?"

You nod, "Was it good for you?"

"Bathroom sex with my girlfriend? Oh, amazing," he smiles, helping you down off the counter.

"Girlfriend, huh?"

"Do you wanna be called something else? I'll call you anything you want," he bushes, "S'long as you're my girl, Manhattan."

"You're girl," you muse, "Steve Harrington's girl."

"Sounds really good, doesn't it?" he tosses you a cool look, "Lot's a girls would beg for that title."

"You're annoying," you huff, opening the door to the bathroom and peeking outside to check for people. The coast was clear and he leads you out to the hallway by the hand, heading over to the coat check.

"We're going home?" you ask.

"We're going to yours," he says.

"Why?"

"So we can start packing up your shit to bring to mine tomorrow morning."

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x readder #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fan fiction #steve harrington #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington angst #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fanfic #steve stranger things

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oliversrarebooks · 8 months

Text

The Fairy King and His Real Estate Agent: Smartphone

TW: possessiveness, boundary stomping, truth spell

Benjamin was utterly exhausted.

He'd dealt with particularly annoying clients today, clients who had hated every little superficial detail of every house he had shown them, from the color of accent walls to the knobs used on bathroom cabinets. The type of people who seemed to be violently allergic to anything with the slightest hint of character and whose favorite activity was complaining.

The end of the day couldn't have come soon enough, and now he sat in his car, letting his song finish before going inside, gathering his thoughts. He'd have a quiet night, at least. A chance to recharge before dragging himself back into the office at 8am sharp tomorrow.

As he slammed his car door, he felt an all too familiar prickling at the back of his neck. Oh, no -- it had to be his imagination, because he was stressed and anxious, surely it wasn't --

"Honeybee!" called a cheerful voice from across the parking lot. "There you are! Finally!"

Benjamin turned to see a young-looking and beautiful man with fiery red hair and golden freckles scattered across his skin like stars. The local fairy king was standing in the middle of his apartment complex parking lot, a sight that no longer remotely surprised him.

Often, when Ember came to visit, he would make small concessions to blend in better with humans, wearing ordinary clothing and hiding his more otherworldly features. Today, he apparently hadn't bothered. He was wearing what could best be described as a floral loincloth, his bare chest was only concealed by a dozen strings of glass beads in every shape and color, and an elaborate flower crown topped his head, right above his pointed ears. He'd hidden his wings, but that was about all.

Sometimes, Benjamin was happy enough to see Ember, enjoying the attention and the flattery and the break from his mundane life. Tonight, he was in no mood to watch his words and appease the fae's capricious whims.

Not that he'd have much choice in the matter.

"I've been looking all over for you! Where have you been?" he demanded, still with a smile on his face.

"I've been working, Ember, you know that. I just got home."

"Ugh, I don't know how you can stand to ride around in a cold metal box," he said, wrinkling his nose at Benjamin's car.

Benjamin sighed. "Look, it's not that I'm not happy to see you --"

"Of course you are! Who wouldn't be?"

"-- but I've had a really long week at work, and I'm very tired, and this might not be the best night for you."

Ember put on his best kicked puppy look. "You haven't even heard why I'm here yet! This is a matter of the utmost importance. The future of my clan might be at stake."

"You said that last time, when you saw a person eating a fancy donut and decided you had to try one."

"How can you say that wasn't important? My well-being is also critical to the future of the clan."

"...Sure."

"But I mean it this time," Ember pressed, stepping close enough to Benjamin that he could smell flowers and earth. "I have something I desperately need to show you. I've even brought a gift to exchange for your help. I'll even pledge a favor to you."

"Well..." Apparently, this really was important to him. A favor owed by the fairy king wasn't something to take lightly.

"Three favors!"

"All right, all right!" When Ember was this determined, no human could stop him. "I'll hear you out. Can we at least go inside? We'll attract too much attention out here." He glanced over to a little old lady exiting her car, who was staring at Ember with a look of unmistakable thirst. She gave Benjamin a thumbs up. He groaned.

"Yes, yes, good thinking. My enemies could be everywhere," said Ember in a conspiratorial whisper. "See that bird?"

"The black bird sitting on the wires over there? Is that one of your enemies?"

"No, of course not. That's just an ordinary bird. But it could be." He grabbed Benjamin by the wrist and began to pull him towards the building. "Come on, let's go."

Ember's enthusiasm waned as the two entered the elevator, the fairy nervously grabbing at Benjamin's arm. Another metal box. As Benjamin understood it, Ember had a higher tolerance to cold metal and human pollution than most of his kin, which was how he could stand to be here in the outskirts of the city at all, but that didn't mean he enjoyed it.

As soon as Benjamin opened the door to his apartment, Ember flung himself at the pile of cushions that he'd built in the corner on a previous visit. He preferred the pile to the couch, which had the sheer audacity to contain metal springs. Benjamin had given up on dismantling it after each visit, another small concession to the fae invading his life.

"Do you want anything to eat or drink?" Benjamin offered, despite knowing how critical Ember could be when it came to human food.

Ember was lounging on top of the assorted cushions as though it were his throne. "Do you have anything that doesn't taste like the parking lot smells? Or at least something that has a lot of sugar in it?"

"I have Coke, that's pretty much entirely sugar."

"I'll have that, then." He seemed to be vibrating with anticipation as Benjamin brought the glasses of Coke over and sat them down on the coffee table. He grabbed his glass and sipped, making a comically disgusted face. "Oh, this is absolutely vile!" he said, then took a much larger gulp. "Now, down to leaves and roots. I need to show you what I have."

"Shoot," said Benjamin, kicking back on the couch.

Ember made an elaborate hand gesture, and a flat, dark object appeared in his palm, wrapped in a leather case. "Behold!" he said gleefully. "I've acquired one of those glowing rectangles you humans love so much!"

"A smartphone?" asked Benjamin. "Where did you get that? You didn't steal it, did you?"

"Of course not!" he said, mildly offended. "I traded with a hiker who strayed into my territory. It was definitely a trade."

"And what did they trade the phone for?"

"A bunch of our finest carrots! We've had an excessive bounty this year."

"You're saying a person chose to trade their smartphone for a bunch of carrots?"

"Yes! Well, that and safe passage from my realm. Minor details."

Benjamin pinched the bridge of his nose. "That's technically kidnapping, you know. And extortion, I think."

"Nonsense. She made the deal, and I honored it. I didn't even try to take her name, and I had Echo see her back to her campsite. You know how responsible Echo is."

"Yes, but she made the deal under coercion when she didn't really have a choice."

"It's a better deal than when humans take our land and fill our rivers with oil. At least she got something in return for it." He glared, daring Benjamin to challenge him further.

Benjamin sat back. This argument wouldn't go anywhere good, and as tired as he was, he really didn't want to make his night worse by putting the fairy king in a bad mood. "All right, fine. You have a smartphone. What do you need me for?"

Cheer returned to Ember's face as quickly as it had left. "You have to show me how to use it, of course!" he said, pushing the phone into Benjamin's hands. "You told me before that you can get information from it, more information than is contained in all the human libraries put together. And you said you can communicate with it, faster than birdsong or even wind writing. I want to learn. You have to show me."

Benjamin touched the screen of the phone, confirming his suspicions. "Neither of us can use this phone, Ember. It's locked."

"It's locked? What do you mean?"

"You need a passcode," he said, holding up the screen. "Without it, you can't use it."

"Is it like a riddle? Is it something I can guess?"

"It's a six digit number, and it'll probably wipe itself if you guess wrong too many times, so..."

"So it's impossible, then." Ember crossed his arms and flopped back into the cushions in a huff. "Tricky, diabolical humans! Next time I trade for a phone, I'll have to make sure to get the passcode, too."

"...Taking phones from humans isn't really the same thing as humans taking your land, you know," he said, unable to stop himself from opening his big mouth and picking the fight he didn't actually want. "A lot of us rely on our phones to navigate and communicate. A person could get in real trouble out in the woods with no phone."

Ember was having none of it. "The future of my clan is more important than the well-being of one human. Mastering the phone could give me a big advantage over my rival clans, one they'll never see coming. Besides," he said, leaning in closer. "it'd make talking to you so much easier, wouldn't it?"

Benjamin's breath caught as he thought of Ember actually learning to use a phone. On the one hand, there might be less surprises; on the other hand, he'd no doubt use it to accost Benjamin day and night. He decided to skip the subject. "Sorry I couldn't help you out with it. You know, you don't owe me a gift or any favors, since I couldn't actually unlock the phone."

"No, I intend to pay what I promised." Ember's eyes flashed with danger, and Benjamin realized too late he had implied that the fairy king might not make good on a debt. "I asked for your help, and you gave me the truth. I can tell you did. So I owe you for the service, even if the result was disappointing."

"Right."

"I haven't given you your gift yet," he said, and with a flourish, he was holding a bunch of carrots.

Of course. He should have seen that coming.

He knew from experience that the carrots would probably taste better than any produce he'd ever get from the grocery store or even a farmer's market. He also knew that they'd be laced with magic. Mildly addictive at least, with a high potential for odd side effects, and the more you ate, the more you'd be bound to the faefolk.

"You know how I feel about fae food," Benjamin said.

"And you know how I feel about humans rejecting my gifts," Ember countered. "Besides, carrots are good for you! Why not just eat them?"

"You know why. The food binds humans to the fae realm."

Ember scoffed. "The magic is far less potent in the middle of the humans' domain. It'll hardly do a thing. Besides, would that be so bad, to be bound to my realm instead of this one? I know you enjoy your time there. Don't pretend you don't."

It wasn't as though he hadn't thought about it.

It wasn't as though he didn't think about it a dozen times even on good days, every day since his kidnapping and brief captivity by Ember's clan. He'd think about it when he dragged himself out of bed to go to work each morning. He'd think about it when he was stuck in traffic. He'd think about it when some client acted like they would die if they bought a home with an insufficiently large kitchen island.

He'd close his eyes and remember laying back in the soft grass of a forest clearing and looking up at the stars, bathing perfectly clear and crisp water, adorning his hair with flowers, being pulled into a dance in a field at midnight. How Ember had laughed, how warm his hands were, the mesmerizing glint of his wings.

He wanted it.

But he knew it would be fleeting. Surely a fairy king wouldn't remain interested in him for long. Ember would get bored of him and he'd be nothing more than a discarded toy -- or worse, pressed into servitude for his clan. And Benjamin had put so much effort, so many grueling hours, into building the life he had. He couldn't trade something so important for a bunch of carrots.

"I don't want to regret it," he said simply.

Ember was not impressed. "Humans like you are always thinking about regrets, like you can see the future, when you don't even have proper soothsayers," he scoffed. "I don't worry about regrets, because I already know I'm doomed."

Benjamin knew exactly what he was talking about. When Ember had first taken the throne many decades ago, a revered soothsayer of his folk had come to the coronation. She'd predicted wealth and prosperity, a great bounty preceding the inevitable, slow decline of all of fae kind -- an event they called the Long Winter. Ember was supposed to be the last of his line, and despite his outward frivolity, Benjamin knew it weighed heavily on him.

"You're doomed, too, you know," Ember added.

"What do you mean by that?" asked Benjamin, wondering if it was an uncharacteristically naked threat.

"You're mortal, aren't you? All mortals are doomed. Condemned to die on the day you're born," he said, as casually as if he were discussing the weather. "You're like a cherry blossom, or a wave crashing against the shore, only existing for a brief moment. A brief moment you could be spending with me, in my realm, before it's too diminished for even humans to enjoy."

Benjamin wanted it.

"I can't," he said.

"Don't lie to me, Bee. I don't lie to you," he said. "You can. But you won't."

"I won't, then," said Benjamin.

For a moment, the tension and silence between them was thick enough that Benjamin could feel the magic crackling off of him. And then it passed.

"You should at least eat the carrots," said Ember. "They'll help with your eyesight, since you clearly can't tell how beautiful I am. If you admired me properly, you couldn't possibly resist."

"This has nothing to do with finding you beautiful," Benjamin protested.

Ember grinned, and in a split second, he was in Benjamin's personal space, practically pinning him against the couch. "So then you do find me beautiful. As you very well should."

Benjamin's face heated as he tried to think of a response that didn't make him sound like a flustered mess. Ember decided to make the problem worse by running his fingers through Benjamin's hair and down his jawline, his touch delicate.

"You're tired, aren't you," he said, tracing his thumbs under Benjamin's weary eyes.

No point in denying that. "Yeah."

"I owe you three favors. Cash one in, and I can take your fatigue away, at least for a little while."

Benjamin couldn't help but lean into the soft touch, his affection starved body soaking it up. Ember had caught his weakness, and he knew it, too, his eyes bright, his grin growing wider and wickeder.

"Look, Ember, I don't want to do anything too..."

"Oh, don't worry, human, I won't violate your precious integrity," he said. "And I won't take you away from here. I'll just massage your shoulders, to relieve the tension." Ember rubbed at Benjamin's scalp to demonstrate, and it felt divine.

"A massage and that's all?" said Benjamin, resolve crumbling.

"A massage and the pleasure of my company."

"Okay."

He really was doomed. Ember was right about that, as he was far too often.

Faefolk were far more casually intimate with each other than humans on the whole were. That was something Benjamin had observed when he'd been captured by them. They freely touched, danced, cuddled, and caressed each other, and even characteristically slept in large piles. This knowledge was also what shielded Benjamin's psyche from acknowledging how close he'd become to the fairy king.

Sure, they'd exchanged gifts, and he'd taken Ember on outings that one could reasonably consider to be dates, and they were intimate in ways that Benjamin normally wouldn't allow outside of a romantic partner...

...but Ember would discard him any minute now, he was sure. And getting so attached to a fairy king was a terrible idea, as anyone with sense would remind him. And a million other good reasons he had that were suddenly hard to remember when Ember was trying to charm him.

"Off with that terrible shirt, Honeybee." Ember's nimble fingers were working the buttons with the speed of a hummingbird's wings.

"I don't think this shirt is terrible. I like it, actually," said Benjamin, allowing it to happen.

"It's scratchy, and it's full of nasty chemicals. There's even long-dead creatures in it, somehow! I can't believe this is what passes for clothing among humans."

Benjamin shrugged the shirt off his shoulders. "Better or worse than the soda?"

"Terrible in different ways," said Ember.

Benjamin might have asked him to elaborate, but Ember's hands had found his shoulders, and he was flooded with endorphins as his skilled touch worked the knots around his neck. His mind went hazy with the pleasure, and suddenly he was quite content with the fact that Ember had visited instead of having a quiet night to himself.

The beads around Ember's neck clicked softly as he worked. "In my opinion, there's no reason you should be wearing a shirt at all."

"I don't think my clients would appreciate that."

"Clearly they don't appreciate art, then."

"Oh, they really don't."

Benjamin sank in bliss as Ember worked around his spine, nimble and warm like sunbeams. He couldn't help but relax into it, his tired eyes blinking slowly and his head swimming. He could feel gentle fingers trace symbols along his back, and he suspected Ember was casting some kind of spell on him, but he couldn't quite bring himself to care. Ember murmured a few words in his native language, which always sounded more like a song than words. So easy to float away on, filling his head with the smell of the forest after a rainstorm and the feel of soft clover under his feet.

"So, honeybee," said Ember, his voice low in Benjamin's ear, "tell me the real reason you continue to spurn my affections."

"I'm scared." The words tumbled out of his mouth without Benjamin's input. A truth spell. So that's what it was. "I'm scared that none of this is real. That I'm a toy that you'll abandon someday."

Ember's finger traced down his spine, making him shiver. "Bold words, considering how notoriously fickle mortals can be. But go on, do."

He couldn't stop himself. "I'm scared... because I always do the responsible thing. Take a job I hate to make money. Work long hours to get promoted. Buy a sensible car and live in a modest apartment. Forget about my art. Survive," he said. "I don't just do things because I want them."

Ember's finger traced a lazy circle on his lower back. "But you do want."

Benjamin could only barely choke back the impulsive thing that rose in his throat, the tide of need. "I think you know," he said. "I just don't want to be hurt."

"Your regrets will also hurt," said Ember. "You don't think it will hurt when age claims you, when your fire has been extinguished, when you remember a summer that will never come again, and recall all the things you wanted to do but didn't?"

It was hard to imagine. All his anxious mind could see was a near future where he'd made some fatal mistake, done everything wrong, ruined the life he'd spent so much time and effort and blood and tears building. He'd spent so much time escaping from his family that even now, he barely bothered to look at what was on the other side of the prison. Not being in prison was enough.

Ember couldn't be more different. He had the love and respect of his people, a world filled with beauty and creativity and debauchery and joy. He was always looking to drink in as much of it as possible, as though pleasure now could stave off the inevitable doom.

Maybe it could, and he just couldn't bring himself to reach out and claim it.

"I can't," he said.

"Lying, again? Even now?"

"I'm not lying. I can't," said Benjamin. "I can't -- yet."

"Yet."

"Yet." He knew what it meant to speak that word to a fairy king for whom words were both law and currency. It was a promise, one that Ember would certainly hold him to.

Ember leaned over, resting his cheek on Benjamin's shoulder. "What are the conditions, then?"

"Time."

"A valuable thing. A steep price to pay. What do I get in return, if I give you time?"

Benjamin should have been expecting this, but in the haze of endorphins brought on by the massage and Ember's magic, his brain wasn't firing on all cylinders. What was something the fae wanted that wasn't him?

"A phone," he blurted. "I can get you your own phone, set it up to work for you."

Ember sat up, clearly interested. "I do want that. You know where I can procure one?"

"Well, the phone store..."

"You'll take me to the phone store, and negotiate with the humans there for a phone I can use?" he said, eyes shining. "And in exchange, I give you time? Time for me to pursue you? Time for your obvious desire for me to grow to unbearable levels?"

Benjamin swallowed hard, every alarm bell ringing. "Well, I --"

Ember pulled him backwards into an embrace, warm hands against his chest and lips tickling his ear. "I accept your offer."

It was increasingly difficult to think with Ember's flirtations, and Benjamin was still uncertain about what did and did not count as binding when it came to the faefolk, but he was reasonably sure he'd locked himself into this the moment he'd offered the phone. "All right," he said. "Meet me here at noon Saturday." He could hear Ember's frown, and immediately amended. "Meet me in two sunrises, when the sun is high overhead."

"I'll be there. I won't forget," he said. "And you'll keep your promise as well."

"Of course."

"So reliable. That's one of the reasons you'd make a most excellent consort, you know. You could make all the schedules and lists and plans you want, but instead of doing it in an office, you could do it entangled in flowers at my feet."

"And then I could watch as you gleefully tear the schedules and lists and plans up."

His laugh was like bells. "You understand perfectly," he said, falling over into Benjamin's lap. "But in truth, the harvest preparations are weighing heavily on my mind. It takes so much time, time that could be better spent charming you, or at least creating our matching outfits for the harvest ball."

Benjamin sighed. "I'm sorry, Ember, I don't really have time for -- did you just say matching outfits?"

"Yes, they're going to be splendid! I've been gathering the finest of the sunflowers and fallen leaves. I'll even make sure your nether regions are covered, since I know that's important to your kind for some reason."

"I -- don't --" Any relaxation from Ember's shoulder rub had gone. "I didn't agree to this. This is the first time you've brought this up. You didn't even invite me."

"Oh, yes. The harvest ball will occur half a moon from the moment when the roundest pumpkin will be plucked, and you must attend."

"How the hell am I supposed to know when -- never mind, it doesn't matter, because I definitely did not agree to this."

"Don't worry! You'll be there." Ember's eyes sparkled.

"That is not what I'm worried about. You can't just decide things like that for me"

"I haven't decided anything! I just know that you're going to be there," he said, sitting up. "Anyway, it's getting dark. I had better return to my crucially important duties before I'm missed. We're spinning spider's webs tonight, and if they aren't dyed exactly the right shades of violet, my subjects' clothes will be drab and disappointing."

"That sounds like a real emergency."

"Yes, you understand," said Ember with the utmost seriousness as he opened the window and made a low, haunting bird call. "I'll see you at the phone store, my honeybee. I'll bring the finest of the early harvest flowers and fruits to negotiate with."

"That really won't be necessary. Or helpful."

But Ember wasn't listening, because a mourning dove had answered his call. He turned and winked at Benjamin, and in a flash he was a few inches tall and on the back of the bird. Benjamin went to the window and watched as he flew into the sunset, and then flopped back down onto his couch.

He'd agreed to take Ember to the phone store. What had he been thinking? The answer was that he wasn't, that whatever whammy Ember had cast on him had diminished his better judgement. He should've just offered to buy Ember a phone from the internet to stop him from kidnapping hikers, but no. Now he was committed, and going back on a promise to the fairy king was an even worse idea than taking him to a store.

Benjamin's gaze traveled to the carrots sitting on the table. He shouldn't. He knew he was already starting to get addicted to the food of the fae realm, and the harvest ball would only make that worse -- because he already knew in his heart he'd end up going. All the more reason not to touch them, to throw them out.

But it'd been a long day.

He picked up a carrot and ate it without even washing or skinning it. It was more delicious than it had any right to be.

Masterlist

There will likely be more of these two when I get my ideas together for them! Let me know if there's anything you'd like to see.

#faefolk #fae #faerie #possessive #unhealthy relationships #light angst #whump #fairy king

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imrllytootiredforthis · 1 year

Text

Last Present Under the Tree

Pairing: Changbin x reader

Summary: It’s the last present under the tree...what might it be?

Warning: sub!changbin, dom!reader, mommy kink, crossdressing (binnie wears one of the santa dresses from Mean Girls), suggestive but not smut

Word Count: 1k

A/N: Hope you enjoy this short little one, hope everyone has a happy holidays!

It was the last present under the tree.

The present that you’d purposely made him save for last, that you’d told him not to open when he’d reached for it.

And you could tell that it intrigued him.

The mystery, the suspense.

And so now that everything else was open, that it was the last thing sitting under the tree. A medium sized package wrapped in shiny red paper with a big bow on top.

Changbin looked at you with big pleading eyes, tilting his head to the side with the words. “Can I open it now, mommy?”

You smiled and nodded, holding up the camera you’d been using to record the both of you all morning, to later look back at. Watch the event of you guys unwrapping presents, your reactions, etc.

But really, you just wanted to look back later on and see his reaction to this exact one, this exact gift. “Yeah, open it up, Binnie!”

He tore through the paper quickly and you laughed quietly at his eagerness.

All up until then he’d been opening them nicely, saying he’d save the paper to wrap gifts next year or something, you didn’t really see the point as you already had tons of rolls of paper and you could buy more rolls for like a dollar at the store but you found it cute.

Once the bow and the paper were ripped open it was a plain cardboard box; eagerly he scrambled around for the boxcutter you’d been using earlier and sliced it open to find…

To find…

He looked at you, eyes wide, tongue peeking out to wet his lips.

You only smiled back at him, your own eyes alight in mischievous glee. “What do you think baby? Do you like it?”

He pulled the scraps of fabric from the box, throwing the cardboard aside to focus his attention on the gift. His cheeks were filled with colour, the blush rising up his chest, on his neck and ears as well.

His eyes flickered between the gift and you, the gift again…and back at you.

“C-can I put it on?”

You held up the camera, picking up the whole of his lust-filled expression. “Why of course silly! Go put it on, I’ll clean up the mess here and then maybe we can…hm…test it out?” You stood up, beginning to pick up wrapping paper and boxes.

He nodded quickly, clutching it to his chest as he scurried to the bathroom.

Awhile ago you’d been watching Mean Girls, an iconic movie that Changbin had admitted that he’d never seen and well, you could never stand for that so you set up a night, popped popcorn, brought out the blankets and watched the movie together.

Admittedly it wasn’t his type of movie, you didn’t really think it would be but it was an important milestone in pop culture and there was no other choice.

Occasionally he’d point out stupid things, complain about how the way they were acting-both things that made you laugh because of his annoyance but then it had come on to the part in which the four girls were singing the Jingle Bell Rock.

He’d gone suspiciously quiet.

Your eyes moved to look at him, then back at the screen.

And in that moment you couldn’t help but imagine how your sweet boy would look in one of those outfits. The size just a touch too small-a conscious effort. The way it would accent his body, his muscles and pecs and…well, his other features.

You told him, after you were done the movie, while the credits were rolling. You asked him what he thought on the movie and he gave his long detailed answer about what he appreciated and what he thought could’ve been better.

Honestly, you couldn’t say you were listening, to him or to even the rest go the movie after that part, too caught up in the fantasy you’d been creating in your head of him

And when he finished you leaned up and whispered exactly that into his ear. How you could imagine him wearing one of those. How you could imagine how he looked, what you’d do to him, what he’d look like by the time you were done with him.

It certainly led to a very…fun night to say the least.

And so right after that you’d gone online and ordered him just that. A pretty little Santa dress, corset laces on the back, white trimming and of course, a Santa hat to go with it.

Once it arrived you knew you had to wait for just the right time to gift it to him, and what better time than the holiday itself?

It certainly was the right choice you mused. Definitely. You rewinded the video, watching his reaction to the gift once more.

God, you couldn’t wait to see him in it.

“Mommy?”

You turned around and there he was. Just his head peeking out of the door, the rest of his body still lingering outside of your view behind it.

“Yeah baby? Why don’t you come out here so I can get a good look at your present?”

He flushed redder, if that was even possible and slowly, ever so slowly he stepped out the doorway.

You jaw dropped and he bit his lip, hiding his hands behind his back, legs slightly shaking in a mixture of nervousness and the winter chill within your house.

Holy fucking shit.

This was much better than anything you could’ve imagined.

And all thanks to a Mean Girls movie and a little Christmas fun.

“Shit.” You breathed.

The ball of fluff on the end of the Santa hat swayed as he dipped his body, backing toward the bedroom.

“Y’know mommy, I think you need to come show me what happens to the one’s who end up on the naughty list.”

The camera slipped from your hands.

Safe to say, it was his favourite gift this Christmas.

#changbin x reader #changbin smut #sub changbin #sub stray kids #stray kids x reader #stray kids smut #sub!stray kids #sub!changbin #dom reader #dom!reader #fem!reader

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poisvy · 2 years

Text

WILLIAM AFTON; JEALOUSY

art credits to @/micovvea

plot; in which William gets jealous of Henry and he couldn't resist more the necessity of you.

tw! this content may be disturbing for some people. blood kink; spanking; pussy spanking, obsession; hard biting; degrading; possession; impact play; fingering; multiple rounds; overstimulation; cunnilingus; voyeurism; exhibitionism;

let me know if i miss one

genre; smut

word count;3.9k

you were working on Freddy Fazbear's Pizza for some extra money. you wanted to buy so many things and didn't want to bother your parents.

your boss, William Afton, was so nice since you arrived. always he pass to the prize counter, where you were working, asked you how you were, and how the working was going, if it was being hard for you, and stayed with you chatting.

you liked him, a mature man, a man who worries about you, and so so attractive. every time you see him passing by or talking with you, you fight the urge to stare at him for too long, or just look at all his facial features, aah, and how could you forget, his voice, his deep and sexy voice. the British accent makes you wetter every time you hear his voice. in short, the man is perfect.

you were at the prize counter, as always. your hand resting on your cheek, bored, you were so bored. there was a birthday party at the establishment so there were no other people entering on the pizzeria because it was rented for that night. people only ask you where was the bathroom or if there were any napkins left.

usually, your boss didn't really show up at these parties, there was nothing much for him to check, only if there were any problems with the animatronics. but you saw him, he was coming out of the hallway, you supposed he left his office.

William looks at you and smiles at you, your heart flatter, you couldn't believe he was so hot and sweet at the same time. he was a very hot specimen. William starts walking in your direction and you straighten up. once he arrived, he bows and rests his forearms on the prize counter, you backed away from the close that his face was.

"bored?." William says slightly smiling at you. you could feel his gaze on you, devastating.

"just a little, after all, they just ask for napkins and where the bathroom is." William chuckled.

"you know, you don't have to be here, after all, there's not much you can do here, go take a rest " he says and you felt relieved, it was tiring being there doing nothing.

"thank you so much, Mr. Afton." you smiled at him. you stayed there, you didn't know what to do now, you didn't want to leave him there.

you see how Henry was passing behind William, he was heading in your direction. Henry and you talk a lot, he was more in charge of treating people, (even if he is mechanical), while William worried more for the animatronics. henry is a really extroverted person, or at least more approachable than William; so he takes care of people when there is a problem.

Henry arrived at the prize counter. "Hey William!, it's weird seeing you out of your office." Henry laughs but William's face was dead serious.

"ah! I was searching for you." Henry says looking in your direction

"me?" you said tilting your head to the side, that was weird.

"yep, I need your help with something." Henry was totally ignoring William, and William didn't seem happy, he seem furious, that's weird too, you thought there were friends.

"I'm sorry Mr.Afton, I come back in a minute" you said looking at William trying to see if his expression changed. he looked at you at nodded his head, but with the same expression.

You came back to the prize counter and William wasn't there. okay, you thought that it was obvious that he isn't going to stay there as you came back, he is a busy man.

Your shift was about to end, it was almost 22 pm, so you waited at one of the tables for it to end.

after some minutes passed, you see how William arrived again at the prize counter, so you go there.

"oh, Mr.Afton, my shift is gonna end in 10 minutes, so I wasn't on the prize counter because you told me to rest " you say to him a little embarrassed that you just sit there for the last minutes of your shift.

"it's okay" you watched a fake smile on his face, was he still mad? why?.

"What did Henry want" it was not a questioning tone, it was a demanding tone of voice.

"h-he wanted to check the factures of the day and ask me some questions about that" you stutter, you have never heard his tone of voice coming out of William's mouth, you have to admit that was scary but so hot at the same time.

"would you mind accompanying me to my office 'atta; girl'?" William asked, and you were stranged, maybe he wanted to discuss something about work; because you couldn't think of another thing.

you arrived at William's office. you stay stand on the door frame as he closed the door, with secure. you were so nervous, his office smelled like him, whiskey and cigarettes, there was some kind of aromatic that you image he puts trying to cover the smell but that didn't work.

"you can sit on my chair, it will stay stand" he says as lay his weight on the desk just in front of his leather chair. you sat on the chair, feeling like he was going to tell you off.

he sighs and looks at you. "you don't know how jealous I am, I cant save this anymore." wait what, what?!, did he just say that? omg, that was unexpected.

"w-what, about what sir, I don't get it." at this time William was just looking at you with a serious face, he wasn't responding and the tension in the air was incrementing little by little.

"I said…" he started to sit on his calves just in front of you, and so close to your face. "I can't save this, this urge, this feeling"

"Henry is always so nice to you, you smile at him a lot and he always searches you for something, I want to kill him and have you all for me." William's words send shivers down your spine, you were scared of what he said but something in you liked it, you wanted him to have you, you wanted him to make you his property.

“love” he caress you cheek, and you laid you head to his hand. “let me have you, let me make you mine”

“William” you grabbed his other hand and place it on you lips, you insert his thumb in your mouth and play with it, biting, licking and sucking on his finger. “make me yours, I want to be your property”you looked at him with puppy eyes. you were making such a strong eye contact with him.

“I will not let anyone have you” he gets his thumb out of your mouth and kissed you. The kiss was full of need and possession, biting and sucking your lips, slightly licking your bottom lip. You moaned against his mouth, you were feeling so good and just for a kiss.

“William… im yours… fuck..i have always been yours.” You said into kisses and moans.

“that’s right darling.. always…” both of you stand and you push him into the desk kissing him again, your hands on the side of his hips. William seen surprised for this action, and you felt how he smirk before changing the position roughly to the same but inverted. Now he was with his hands on the side of your hips resting his height on the desk behind you, he stopped the kiss to say something. “I command here love, don’t get confused, even if you are my weak spot, I take the lead here.” William look at your eyes intensly while telling this, you wasn’t mad, you liked it, you like this possessive and dominant side of him.

"i think i may have to punish you, mmh?, to remind you where your place is." he grabbed your throat and kissed you again, this one was more violent and fast, the grab on your throat was strong, enough to keep you still. suddenly you felt an intense sting on your lip and something dripping all over your chin. william turned away to see what he did. he bitted you so hard that make your lip bleed, his chin was covered in blood, it looked like a vampire that just got his meal. you felt how the blood was dripping from your chin, it wasn't a big cut but was enough to make you bleed really intensely.

william approached you and liked the blood that was coming out. "your blood is soo delicious darling, i wonder what other thing may be delicious in you." he said smirking, he looked so sexy with his chin and teeth covered in blood.

william turns you abruptly and presses your face to the desk. "it's time to teach you a lesson." he takes off your pants and underwear in conjunct so roughly that makes you wetter than you already were.

he passes his hand all over your ass, just touching it. straightway you felt a hard spank on your ass, you gasped from the sudden hit and felt how the skin there was getting red. after a couple seconds, you felt how it ached. "i want to make this skin as red as can possibly be." then he kissed that cheek. "can you count for me, love?"

"y-yes." you were out of breath, even if you haven't moved, that spank was devastating hard. "one..."

william continued spanking you, 5.., 7.., 10. you felt your ass so red, the parts where he spanked burned so much and you were drooling, your pussy was so wet, your juices were dripping all over your thighs.

"look what we have here, you dripping darling, should i punish you for being this wet?." you nodded, you were such a masochist, you wanted him to treat you without any respect, manhandle you, degrade you, you needed this. "wow what a slut, and think of that shy employee who always was so servicing for me is such a whore, do you like when i call you whore, hmm?."

"yess sir, im your whore" you said moving your hips in need of friction. "of course you are, from who else could you be slut"

the blood in your lip and chin should be already dry, but the saliva that was coming out from your open mouth doesn't let it.

"open more your legs for me pretty" you do what he tells you, you open your legs as much as you can, you needed everything he has to give you.

william chuckled. "what a neddy little slut" you feel another spank, but not on your ass, but in your pussy. this spank makes you jump, the ache was as painful as pleasant.

"look how wet my hand is just from touching your dripping cunt, you should be embarrassed" right no there was no time to be embarrassed, all you can think of is in him, him fucking you, him eating you out, him spanking you, his voice, his cock, how messy his hair would be if you pull it while he fucking you with his tongue, his eyes seen you with lust. his, his, his, his, him, him, him, him.

you felt another spank on your cunt, this one was harder. you start sobbing, you didn't really know if you were crying out of pleasure or pain, but in any case, it felt good.

"i don't hear you counting." william says with a cold tone of voice.

"two.." other spank. "t—three.." other one. "four" other one. "f—five" and like that until teen. at this point you were so horny, neddy, dripping and desperate, this was overwhelming. your cheeks were wet for your tears, your chin wet too for your spit, and your eyes were looking at the back of your head. you needed him.

"i think this is enough, let's make you feel good after all you deserve it for handling this like such a good little girl". you felt william’s tongue on your pussy, he have you a long lick, all over your line. You whine at this, after all the pain and slight pleasure this was so worthy.

William starts eating you out, kissing, licking, sucking on your clit, rubbing his tongue and mouth all over your wet pussy. You couldn’t stop whining, you were so close to cum, after not cumming for that much time, you were sensitive to the touch of him.

You reach you high almost immediately after he starts devouring your pussy. “ow, you already cum? That’s a shame because im not gonna stop until im satisfied. he came back to devouring you. You were being overstimulated, there were no coherent words coming out of your mouth, you were moaning so loud, and you didn’t care about people hearing you, all you care about was the pleasure and pain you were feeling. The thing about being overstimulated was that it felt so desperately hurtful and the pleasure was so devastating.

Your clit hurt so much and your hips couldn’t stop moving trying to get away from william’s tongue. William grabbed your hips so you couldn’t move, his grip was so hard that you were sure you will have marks later.

After the pain was gone you started feeling that pure pleasure again, after some time you cum again, and the moment you cum, William inserts a finger into your pussy searching for your g-spot. You couldn’t handle the pleasure, you were trying to move and get off of his grip but his grip was insanely strong. You turn into a babbling mess, your juice was all spilled on your thighs and william’s face. Again the painful pleasure becomes a pure pleasure, and William adds another finger, then he finds your g-spot, you tried to get up for the pleasure that he caused for touching that place; “bingo” that was dangerous.

He began fingering you without compassion, you couldn’t do it anymore, you give up on trying to escape his grip and just stayed there on his desk whining and squirming. Your eyes were hardly closed there was spit all over the desk and a bit of blood from before.

You felt your third orgasm hitting as hard as you had never been hit. William stopped after you third and start biting really hard on your ass and thighs, you cry out for the painful biting. “that’s is a permanent mark”.

William gets up and grabbed you by your shoulders. “look how wrecked you are, unlucky you because I am not done” you were so tired, you put your hands on the desk trying to keep you stand as William's grip was on your shoulders.

He turned you to have a look at your face. ”that’s the face that I wanted to see on your face, so helpless” he started kissing you, you felt a metallic taste in his mouth, you guessed that the bites he left on your thighs were blooding and his lips were full of that blood, even if the bites he left were deep as you already know from the kiss he has you that it doesn’t need to be a deep bite for it to blood.

In your dizziness you wanted to make him feel good, you wanted to hear him whimper. You put your hands on his chest and start lowing them until you grabbed his belt and take it off, you start rubbing your hand on his crotch, feeling his hard cock through his pants, you wanted to see it, you wanted to taste it.

You looked at him in his eyes and give him a peak, and start pulling his cock out of his pants. when his cock was totally out, you stared at it, admiring it, his cock was thick and long probably 8 inches and so veiny, that was so hot, his cock was somehow perfect for you, design it for you, you wanted it in your mouth, feel his veins on your lips and his warm on your tongue.

you crouched down without losing eye contact and your hand on his chest feeling his abs hidden by the shirt, even if he was so tall and skinny he still had abs and well-maintained ones, still in his 40's he looked so fucking good and had the stamina of a horse.

your face finally reach his crotch and you stared at his cock for a little too long. "im noticing that you like it, how about you prove it, come on babe, put it in your mouth".

you followed his instructions, you start licking his veins one by one, taking your time to taste it, then you lick his tip passing your tongue and lips for it. you heard william whimper, you wanted to hear more of it, so you started inserting his length into your mouth, slowly, his dick was so big that you can just put it all on your mouth, so at the sight that it was being a little harder for you to take it, william put his hand on your hair massaging it basically telling you to take of your time, and after the intense eat out that he gave you, you needed to take time on it.

you could fit just half of his length into your mouth, you looked up at william and he was with his head up in pleasure, enjoying. you started moving your head making his cock go in and out of your mouth, even if just a part of his dick could fit in your mouth you noticed that he was enjoying it. he start making force on your head for you to continue and do it faster, you did it of course since he had his hand on your head putting pressure on it for you to take all his cock.

your movements were fast and trying to fill his length in your mouth. he was whispering in the felt of your tongue on his tip and the rest of his cock in your throat. in a second he put both of his hands in your head and start forcing the entrance of his cock into your throat. you grabbed his thighs to try to cushion his thrusts, your eyes were going to the back of your head and spit was all over your chin, your felt used, he was using you as if you were a toy to his cock, you don't mind anyways, it felt good to be used that way.

His movements were the definition of ‘chasing your orgasms’, he was so lost in his pleasure that he didn’t notice that his well know college and best friend was watching through the window of the door. He looked at him and smirk, Henry didn’t notice this he was so focused in you and how your head was moving. William wanted to make clear who you belong to.

He takes his cock out of your mouth and you breathe heavily, searching for air. You looked up at him with frowned eyebrows trying to guess what stopped him, he seen to be feeling so good. William grabbed your face with a strong grip, making your lips seem more voluptuous, and kissed you, his tongue searching for yours, whining between heavy breaths. He pushed your head back to stop the kiss and a string of saliva connecting each other mouths could be seen.

You looked at each other admiring your faces, so messy.

“get up” William says in a demanding tone. You did it with shaky legs for the time you were kneeling. He gave you a little kiss before putting you in a position where Henry could see how he make you of him. At the side of the desk, so henry could see how he pounds your wet cunt.

your back was resting on the desk and you were looking at william; he haved a mischievous smile on his face, and that scared your, after all he did, yes, because what more he could do to you. oh, believe me, he had a lot of plans for you in mind, but not all of them for today.

he plant his lips on your neck and grabbed your thighs and sit you on the desk.

you were submerged in pleasure, in a cloud which you didn't want to come down, you wanted more and more.

you grabbed his hair trying to keep the tickle on your neck, william kissed you again and started touching your nips and with the other hand positioning his length between your legs.

his cock started to enter your insides, and you whine, he was so big, tears were coming off your eyes for the burning pleasure on your crotch. the grab on williams hair passed to his shoulders scratching your nails on it.

William looked at the door, just where henry was, he was still there, noticed by how you moaned and looked, the pornographic scene made henrys cock hard, he started touching himself over the pants, and looking at the face of pleasure that you were making, fuck, he never imagines he will be the one watching and not doing it to you.

William stopped looking at him, and centered his eyes on you, and how you were seeing him, with sinful eyes, telling him to make you a mess. He, of course, did what you wanted.

William started moving his hips back and forward in slow and hurtful movements. You moaned louder every time his pelvis collided with yours, your front was bathed in sweetness, your eyes were watching at williams, his sigh and yours were so breathtaking, it made more intense the situation with your arms supported on the table so the thursts would make your lose your balance.

He started hitting that spot, that sweet and pleasant spot, you moaned louder and williams thursts started getting harder and faster. William place his thumb on your clit and started rubbing it, he liked it, no, he loved seeing how your body started shaking trying to manage the pleasure that you were feeling, he loved seeing you squirming in front of him.

At this point you were just a babbling mess. “plis, plis william, cum, cum with me, please please” you whine, so desperate to cum.

William couldn't hold it anymore, he started giving desperate and thusts with no rhythm. You were handling on his shoulders, with your head hanging back.

Henry felt guilty for watching this scene and left but left to manage his boner in the bathroom listening to your moans.

You reached your orgasm for the... you didn't know, you stopped counting at some point. William seconds later cum, and your felt how his warm seed painted your walls white.

You were out of breath, your chest was so agitated and your sigh started to get fuzzy, william was in the same condition, out of breath but he still got energy, he will leave it to later, later when you were restored.

"i loved it" you said looking at williams chest and warping your hand on his.

"lest continuing this on another site, yes? i know you are tired and i want you as restored as possible for what a have left to do to you." you smiled.

After that, you showered in william's house and continue doing it for the time you were there an incredible time.

#william afton #william smut #william afton smut #william afton x reader #william afton fnaf #fnaf smut #william afton x you

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stargazing15 · 1 year

Text

What a timing

Bob x Fem! reader

Summary: Your friendship with Bob was going in the right direction and then the call came.

Warnings: mentions of alcohol, some innuendo's, but nothing's happening here, protective Hangman

Previous: Hello again - Next: Worth the wait

Enjoy!

It's been a week since Bob stayed over for dinner and things have been wonderful. You were currently on your way to the Hard Deck with your coworker, who was still going strong with Phoenix.

"Sometimes I start to doubt who Nat is dating, me or you? Because all she talks about is you." Your coworker/friend joked, even though it was mostly truth. In a world dominated by man, she was extremely happy you were back, she liked the guys, but talking with you was different, gossiping on a ... higher level.

"What can I say? I found my mojo back and no one is safe now." You joked back.

"That's my girl, so," he interrupted his question for you to quickly park his car, "where was I? Right! Do you think you and Bob could ever, you know?"

"I miss him so much." Your eyes started to water.

"Oh sweetheart, I didn't mean to to make you sad."

"No, it's not that, ever since we started to talk again, he's been getting a place in my heart again. I really like, no love having him around. And sometimes I want to jump him, he might look cute underneath those glasses, but the thins that man did with me. I'm just so scared he is going to hurt me again."

"You two will figure things out, I'm sure of it. I'm so happy you gave him a second chance. You two are so perfect together."

"Thank you, come here, big hug and we can crash their clubhouse." You winked at your friend.

"Look who is here! Sunshine, we missed you, A LOT! Damn you look fine as hell." Hangman and Coyote picked you up and threw you in the air. Okay, maybe you missed these two goofballs too.

"Don't let her fall on the ground, morons."

"Calm your tits mother hen, she's safe with us, have you seen our muscles?" Both men flexed their arms at Rooster once they put you back on the ground.

"Missed you too guys, by the way, apparently I have to thank you Jake, for smacking some sense in Bob."

"My pleasure and if he's ever doing something stupid again or bothering you, give me a call."

"I guess you will have to wait your turn, Nat is going to eject him first."

"Well Phoenix, I don't say this a lot but apparently we're on the same team."

"Don't try anything funny."

You ignored their little bickering contest and went to greet Payback. "Hi Rueben, how are you and the kids?"

"Everything good, both still the smartest and goofiest of class and the oldest, you know him, wrapping everyone around his fingers, he's going to be a heartbreaker."

Your conversation with Payback got interrupted by Hangman noticing Bob entering. "How dare he show up here? You need us to escort him out?"

"Jeez Jake, YOU calm your tits, I'm on good terms with Bob. Do I need to put a leash on you, or can you be a good boy?" Everyone almost fell on the ground by your answer from laughing. Hangman growled and resumed his darts game with Coyote.

Bob quietly joined the group, still a bit scared of the them when you're around.

"Hi Bob", you started, letting everyone know it was alright for Bob to join, "the guard dogs won't bite, put a leash on them." You joked while pointing at the darting duo.

"H-hi." Bob was lost, completely lost in his world where only you and him were at the Hard Deck, admiring your soft features and your beautiful smile. "How are you? You look really beautiful." He was again as nervous as the day he met you. His mind started to wander off as he finally noticed the dress you were wearing. He had to snap out of his thoughts or he would have lock himself in the bathroom to take care of some business. That dress was perfect on you, accenting your features on the right places, but more importantly, he remembered the last time you were wearing it with him, or rather how soon it ended up on the ground.

You noticed Bob's thoughts wander off and secretly you were happy your little sneaky plan was working. He still likes the dress.

Phoenix pulled you away from the group for a little interrogation, actually saving Bob from getting hard in front of everyone.

"You are so wearing this on purpose!"

"Maybe I am." You tried to look as innocent as possible at her.

"Oh my god, you want him back, don't you? Are you sure you're going to make it this easy for him?"

"I never said I was just going to take him back. The man has got sweat to get me. And to make sure he really wants me."

"And I always thought you were a innocent one. Under that cute smile of yours hides a woman I like a lot! Make 'em sweat, if you need any help, give the sign. And I sure think some others like to help too." She high fives you at your plans and made you way back to the group. Phoenix of course keeping your friend up to date with your plans. He send you a wink to let you know he was on board with your plan. But you didn't expect him to go to guard dog number 2 and whisper something in his ear after send you a smirk. They already started something.

After getting a drink, you joined again, positioning yourself across Bob. After a couple sips, letting the alcohol work, you were still feeling a bit uneasy about making Bob sweat. It all was unlike you, but he had to learn his lesson.

Suddenly you felt Coyote's breath on your neck. You stiffened, counted to three and took another sip, finally relaxing on the inside, you turned your body to Coyote. He had made himself comfortable on a barstool, spreading his legs wide for you to join by sending you a wink. You had barely joined him and you felt already a bunch of stares burning on the back of your head, but Bob's stare burning the most as the others stares turned in to smirks knowing what was going on.

"I'm so nervous Javy, what if he backs out?" You whispered in Coyote's ear, still trying to be convincing by your act.

"It will all be okay, the guys will make sure of that. Now let's make that idiot jealous, giggle after this." Your body made a half turn so Bob could see you better as you giggled. That was what you were doing for the next hour, whisper in Coyote's ear and giggling when he whispered something back. Eventually you and Coyote were talking about his massive sneaker collection, most importantly his newest additions, the man was proud of his babies.

And Bob, sweet Bob was sweating, what was happening? You two were finally on good terms, he thought you were still single, so something in him believed he still might have a chance. And just like that Coyote was glued to you, making your smile. Was that why you called him one of your guard dogs, of course Hangman being the second one as he was Coyote's best friend. Did you call him that because he was guarding your heart now? He wanted to sink in the deepest, darkest hole. Wait, was this how you must have been feeling?

"Now watch this." Coyote whispered in your ear with a hinting smile and gently put his warm hands on your hips so you could face Bob again completely.

Rooster and Hangman were talking to him and he looked flushed, but still adorable. You weren't able to hear them, but you could definitely read 'come on' on their lips, right before Bob stood up and made his way over to you.

"H-hi do you think we could talk for, for a second beautiful angel?"

"Of course, let's go for a walk." While making your way to the door you turned your head to mouth a 'thank you' to Coyote.

It was not cold outside but it felt a bit chilly, probably your nerves taking over. Bob made a little o with his arm signalling you could link your arm in his, what you gladly did.

"Uh, so, you and, you and Coyote. Are you happy? I didn't know you two..."

"He's nice and caring."

"I'm sorry if I have overstepped."

"I can't do this anymore, Bob," you came to a halt and faced him, "there is nothing going on with Javy, he was helping out, getting back at you."

"Wait, so you're not-, they all knew, oh" Suddenly it clicked in his head and he took you in his embrace. You nuzzled you nose immediately in his chest, letting yourself go for a moment, forgetting everything and enjoying the moment. When the embrace ended, you both stayed silent and looked each other in the eye, it felt comfortable and neither wanted to move or say anything. It felt like everything around you paused. It was just you and Bob, Bob and you. And what was it hard not to give in just like this, but the look in Bob's eyes made you relax, it said that it was okay like this, don't rush, enjoy. And you did, your heart and mind relaxed and found happiness in this moment.

Until his phone went off, it was not the ringtone you were used to hear.

"No no no, it's work," he saw you raising your eyebrow, "the ringtone is different. This is Lieutenant Floyd."

After the call ended, Bob's expression softened again, but the tension in his jaw was still visible. "We have to go to base." Everyone got the call he explained, he made sure you were able to go home safe with your coworker before leaving with the rest. They looked like they had a competition going on for the grumpiest face.

"Do you think they have to go?" You coworker asked worriedly.

"I'm afraid so."

"Did you patch things up with Bob? I liked the show to be honest, don't break your head over it, I know you. He still deserved a little payback."

"Almost, the call came at worst timing possible. I'm a little scared."

"Me too, come on let's go home."

That night you couldn't find much sleep, tossing and turning in your bed. What if this was a dangerous mission? What if the Navy didn't let them say goodbye?

The next morning you got a text from Bob asking if you could join him on the parking lot of the Hard Deck asap. Never in your life you have been able to get yourself ready this quickly.

You've seen him a dozen times in his khakis and still je managed to take your breath away. The moment he saw you he came running towards you, making your bodies collide in a hug.

"I'm so so sorry beautiful angel, we have to leave today. It's an urgent mission. They don't give us much time to say goodbye. Normally family and partners are allowed on base to say goodbye, but you're not on my list because we're not dating and-"

"It's okay Bob, when do you have to leave?"

He looked at his watch and panic hit him, "f-fifteen minutes."

"Do you remember when we talked about you job? And that I might want to curse at the Navy sometimes?" Bob smiled a little at the memory. "Let's do that together."

You both turned yourself facing the sea and counted down, "one, two, three ... stupid dipshit!" "horseshitting fuckface!" You fell on the sand of laughter at Bob's choice of curse words. When you recovered from laughter a couple of minutes later, Bob stuck out his hand to help you up. When you reached his hand with yours, he accidentally used more force to help you up than expected. Your face was now so close to his, you could feel his breath on your lips. Having the thought in the back of his mind that with any mission the possibility existed he might not come back, he leaned in and kissed you. Feeling the train of thought spooking in Bob's head through his lips, you kissed back.

"Beautiful angel. Sorry, I-"

"No sorry, I know Robby, I know, be safe. Come back and we'll talk further. Say hi from me to everyone."

Bob took you in his embrace for the last time before leaving. This time he had to make it back, 100%. He was going to fight for you and win back. The kiss and you calling him Robby again just confirmed him it was all going to be worth it .

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litgwritersroom · 11 months

Note

Allegra F/F??? My bitch queen needs some love

TRUTH OR DARE

Allegra / MC - 2800+ words - @crimswnred

If you see us in the club, we'll be acting real nice. If you see us on the floor, you'll be watching all night 🎶

Allegra put on another layer of her favorite pink strawberry-flavored gloss and flipped her hair back. She could hear the insistent sound of the leaking tap echoing into the silence as Jen started fighting to tie her hair up next to her, looking dumb as she did it too. To be fair, however, absolutely everything that day was getting on Allegra's nerves. And this damn lip gloss wasn't working.

With a 'thump', she snapped, slamming her fist against the sink. "Ugh, this stupid thing."

Beside her, Jen jumped on her feet. "What the fuck, Allegra?"

Allegra side-eyed Jen. She could kill her right here but that wasn't a good idea nor a good look. "Sorry, just stress because of the ratings."

Jen seemed to understand it right away. Everyone was stressed because of the ratings. At the dance academy, a good rating was basically the fastest way to get a solo or, who knows, be part of a play or dance crew for an artist. As a modern dancer, of course she was competing with a bunch of really good girls and that alone took her stress levels off the charts. To put it quite simply, Allegra hated the ratings.

Not that she was a bad dancer. God, no. She had a few solos already, she passed some tests, she had won some competitions and even joined some famous people on their tour. However, that was before she joined the Academy.

Giulia was a fucking good dancer, everyone was well aware of that ever since she had her first ballet class and left Mrs Kensington looking impressed – which for the old lady meant she had an eyebrow up and that sparkle on her usually opaque brown eyes. Allegra had seen her dance a few times and, although she didn't believe she was that good at first, she had to admit that she had never seen someone look that… light while dancing. She was just like a feather.

And that was so annoying. Before her, Allegra was the shit at the academy. All eyes on her, forever top of the rantings, the only one to get ovations at the showcase. She was the moment and everyone wanted a piece of her. Then, Giulia came from the depths of Italy with her annoying accent, doll-like feature, straight as fuck strawberry blonde hair and perfect shaped petite body. Ridiculous.

"I mean, at least you're, like, 2nd spot!" Jen smiled at her through the mirror. "I'm, like, sixty."

Allegra closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Oh, god, Jen was making it really hard not to kill her right there. "I swear to god, Jennifer, if you don't shut the fuck up right now."

That seemed to get her quiet.

Allegra grabbed her stuff from the sink and threw it all on her pink bag with a huff. Not even looking back, she made her way out of the bathroom and waltzed through the academy, hoping she would be able to leave to her dorm without bumping into anyone. She just wanted to lay down on her bed and re-watch her favorite season of Pretty Little Liars.

But, of course, she bumped into someone.

Giulia.

"Hey, Leggy!"

As usual, her drawn-by-god's-hands face had zero makeup on, displaying the layer of random-placed freckles and the pointy nose everyone envied. Her thick, long hair was pulled up in a perfect bun, not a single strand of hair daring to escape it. Covering her torso, she had the tight black collant on and the supper short cropped black hoodie with a single tiny rainbow right on its center. To match, she had those low-waisted baggy gray sweatpants. Ugh.

Giulia smiled at her and Allegra's stomach flipped. She couldn't stand her, god. "Hey… Giulia! How's it going?"

"Super! Just got the ratings!" Giulia scratched her neck and gave Allegra a nervous chuckle. Oh, she was playing it coy now? The audacity. "Congrats on the second spot, by the way!"

That struck a nerve. Oh, my fucking god. Allegra could hear the venom dropping from every word she was saying, it didn't matter how much she tried to play it as friendly.

"Thanks," Allegra crossed her arms, looking right into Giulia's stupid honey eyes. "Is that the reason why you stopped me, though? 'Cause I really need to go back to my dorm."

Giulia looked taken aback for a second but she quickly recovered, plastering a smile on her lips easily. The whole conversation had an overly sweet tone but there was a classic female rivalry between the lines.

"I was just wondering if you're going to Sammi's party tonight?" She leaned against the wall, eying Allegra up and smirking.

She knew Sammi. They had some classes together. She also knew that Sammi was number 3 on the rankings. Which meant she used to be to Allegra what Allegra was now to Giulia. If that makes sense. She also knew that her last party was busted by the headmistress and that the attendants were punished by her after being caught smoking weed. Something that was completely banished from the Academy.

So, no, Allegra wasn't planning to hit Sammi's party that night. But she also wasn't planning to be hit on the face with all of Giulia's mean attitude, so hey, she was allowed to change her mind, right?

"Yep," she popped the 'p' with some of her bubbling rage. "See you there?"

Giulia winked at her before unpeeling herself from the wall. "You know it, girl."

Two hours later, Allegra was wearing the tiniest of skirts known to mankind and the tightest shirt she could find in her wardrobe. Her hair was up in a high ponytail so she could let her long earring flow in a sparkly silver cascade along her neck. At least, she looked hot, even though she didn't want to be there.

When she got to Sammi's stupid mansion — she knew Samantha's mom was a really famous ballet dancer but she wasn't aware her dad owned a fucking stock company — she spotted Giulia immediately. Of course, she was wearing a black dress that hugged every inch of curve she had on her body. Her hair was down, running down her back and flowing as she danced. Without her collant, her breasts were much more flattering.

Allegra ran her curious eyes over her body and she just noticed Giulia was staring back at her when she had already scanned her entire body. Avoiding to meet Giulia's gaze, Allegra swallowed hard and turned around, making a beeline to the kitchen. Or more specifically, the fridge freezer.

She grabbed one drink and unscrewed the lid with ease, already necking the bottle without thinking twice. Suddenly, the weight of the stressful test week and ratings released was off her shoulder, and she felt like she could finally breathe. Or was it the alcohol invading the space inside her head?

"Someone is having a bad day."

Oh, god! Allegra jumped on her feet. The feminine yet deep voice took her off guard. With a frown, she turned to its owner. Giulia had a playful smile on her lips as she watched Allegra react to her mere existence. Was that girl never tired of making her life a living hell? Jesus.

"Yeah, and who's fault is that?" Allegra spit the words fast, reminding herself they were in public and that the words wouldn't escape her if she talked a little slower. "You keep haunting me."

However, Giulia didn't seem to mind the harsh tone of her voice. Instead, she chuckled and jumped onto the cabinet, sitting on top of it. "Aw, does that mean you've been thinking about me?"

… wait, what?

Suddenly, Allegra's point of view shifted. Giulia was playing with the ends of her hair, twirling them. She had blushed cheeks and a restrained smile she could barely keep out of her stupid face. Her body was turned to Allegra, her cleavage leaning quite strategically.

… wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, wait.

Allegra must've been looking at her with a stupid face because then Giulia was throwing her head back with a heartfelt laugh. "You're so cute when you're flustered, Rossi."

Fuck off.

Before Allegra could say anything more, Giulia jumped out of the counter and left back to the dance floor, leaving her with a flipping stomach and some scrambled thoughts. What the fuck Is going on?

Allegra decided to just ignore her extremely high heart rate and grabbed another drink. That one was dry way quicker than the first one and it wasn't long until she grabbed a third. That's when she spotted Jen. Or rather, Jen spotted her.

Great.

"Oh, my god, you came!" Jen ran at her, grabbing her arm as if she was invited, welcomed to. "When you said these parties were just a lame excuse to get high and call attention, I really thought I'd never see you in one of these again!"

It goes without saying that Allegra didn't recall being that much of a stuck up.

"I just thought I could use the distraction," Allegra said untangling herself from Jen. "Have you seen Sammi, by the way?!"

Jen just shook her head, looking a little confused, and Allegra just huffed in reply. Already fighting an annoying roll of her eyes, she left Jen there by the kitchen's counter, digging her way around the party and random people's sweaty bodies. Eyes sharp, she tried to find Sammi, just to say hello and then leave so she could never think about what Giula said again, after all, she was just drunk — or at least that was what Allegra told herself.

But her eyes, wandering as always, find their way to Giulia's moving body like they usually would do. She was swaying her hips, just far enough from Allegra that she would seem out of reach. Her lips followed the song along, echoing every word Madonna blasted through the speakers. Was it 4 Minutes?

Next to her, no, grinding her, Ozzy — also known as number four at the ratings — was mimicking her moves, trying to fit in with her body. He was good, the best guy at the academy, but something about the slow way his hands ran through Giulia's body rhythmically made Allegra's stomach tie in a knot. She couldn't quite say why but they just didn't fit well together. He was not giving Justin Timberlake the way Giulia could give Madonna.

In the middle of the dance floor, it didn't take long for random people to start to dance around Allegra. As she tried to keep an eye out for Giulia and get her alone, she accidentally got herself in the middle of two dances. She recognised the girl smiling in front of her, Kat, who was known for her sensual and provocative moves. Behind Allegra, Jamal from her ballet class had his hand on her hips, following the beat.

She could feel Jamas breath on her neck and Kat's skin against her as Madonna sang her part of the chorus. She looked back at Giulia, who was now touching Ozzy's neck, keeping him close. Her eyes, however, were distracted. Watching Allegra.

Against her better judgement, Allegra mimicked Giulia's moves, bringing Kat closer to her own body and hoisting her hips against Jamal. When she saw the smirk on Giulia's lips, her heart skipped at best.

Even though the room was full with random people, it was like they were the only people there.

Then, the song changed. Now, Timbaland's Give It To Me was blasting from the speakers and Giulia was shoving Ozzy to the side. Soon enough, she had crossed the space between them, standing right there in front of Allegra.

She didn't say anything. Instead, she put her hand on Allegra's waist and brought her closer. In less than a minute, they were sweating together, moving as if they shared the same body, swaying hips as the beat went again and again. Allegra could feel the eyes on her but she didn't care. Not when Giulia moved her fingertips along her skin like that, leaving tingles and sending waves of pure electricity through her body.

Their faces were closed, their bodies was glued to one another, their heartbeats were synched. There was not a single part of Allegra that was moving without asking Giulia's for permission. Giulia was leading and Allegra would follow her anywhere.

The song came to an end way too soon. Allegra fought the disappointment, trying not to show it when Giulia put even the smallest space between them, focusing on the satisfied smile she had on her face as she panted and ran her fingers through her hand.

"I've never felt so alive, fuck!" She screamed the last word, sounding completely crazy. Yet, Allegra couldn't agree more.

"Hey, Giu?" Allegra heard someone calling. It was Ozzy, smiling that stupid boyish smile he usually had on when she was hitting on a girl. Giulia twirled on her heels, putting even more space between them. "Wanna play truth or dare?"

"Sure!" Giulia agreed and Allegra would've been too disappointed if Giulia didn't immediately turn to her and ask, "Wanna play with us?"

Two possibilities crossed Allegra's mind. She could say no and then go home before someone asked her to do something stupid like running naked and the photo evidence ended up on Instagram… or, she could say eyes and have an excuse to ask Giulia what all of that meant.

Needless to say she went with the second option.

There were around five people in the room already, sitting in the middle of the floor, next to the sofa. Kat, Jamal, Jen, Will from ballet and Sammi were laughing at something Allegra figured couldn't be that funny anyway.

"Hey, Ozzy! C'mon, did you find a bottle?" Willem shouted but Ozzy just shrugged.

"We don't need a bottle, just pick someone and ask them, easy!" Giulia said as she opened some space between Sammi and Jamal so she could sit, bringing Allegra with her.

"Sure, and who starts?" Willem gave Giulia a look Allegra found a little out of pocket.

"Me!" Sammi butted in. "It's my house, after all."

"Fair enough…"

The game started pretty boring and, since Allegra was sitting literally on the second to last place before Sammi, her turn would take too fucking long. She also wasn't that close to anyone on the circle except for Jen — who she kinda saw as an annoying classmate, at best —, so no one was asking her any questions.

There were some really stupid questions like, 'did you ever screwed an instructor' and some really juicy ones, like 'did you really come up with that choreography for this semester's assignment?'. But the game didn't actually become interesting until it got to Allegra's turn. And she got to ask Giulia.

"I choose truth," Giulia smiled, a little playfully but also a little challenging. "Give me your best shot, Rossi."

It was now or never. Allegra wanted to know if she was actually flirting back there or if the whole night had been senseless playful times. Was there something going on between them? Or was it just Giulia messing with Allegra? If it was the last option, she better get ready to fight. Because they were going to war.

"Alright," Allegra matched her challenging smile. On the inside, however, she was shaking. "Is it true you are actually in love with me?"

The guys looked at each other, their lips going for the decapitalized 'o' shape and their eyes sparkling with naughty thoughts. Pigs, Allegra thought to herself, before she flipped her hair back again.

The girls gasped, looking at each other with a face that could only mean hot gossip. Allegra braced herself for the worst, already coming up with some clapback for whatever nasty comments Giulia would throw her way.

Giulia's smile, however, didn't drop, she just looked straight into Allegra's eyes and bit her lips. "Yeah, it's true."

Oh, wow.

"Yo, Ozzy, it looks bad for you, huh?" One of the boys said, only God knew who. Allegra didn't have eyes for any of them at the moment, not when Giulia was looking at her like that.

"Shut the fuck up, Ryan," Giulia said, her eyes not leaving Allegra's for even a second. "I'm gay, remember? Me and Ozzy are just dance partners."

Allegra's eyes widened. What? She looked around. The other girls seemed unfazed. Was she the only one that wasn't aware of that?

"What?!" was the only word that managed to come out of Allegra's mouth. She sounded stupid.

"I didn't even choose him, we were just nominated partners" Giulia smiled at Allegra reassuringly. "It's your turn now, Leggy. Truth or dare?!"

"Dare," she said, absentmindedly, still processing the whole conversation.

"I dare you to kiss me."

#love island the game #litg season 1 #love island the game s1 #litg s1 #litg allegra #litg writers room #writers room #litg ff #litg fanfic #litg fanfiction #ask #crimswnred

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