summary ; a handsome stranger at the club sends you a drink, but you don't end up drinking it, seemingly much more interested in the message behind the gesture.
a/n ; don't know what came over me, but hope you enjoy :)
Your friend had ditched you in the dark club, loud music booming in the background, a while ago. She had slurred out an unintelligible goodbye to your way too sober self before leaving with some random guy who was a solid 7 – maybe even an 8. You regretted agreeing to be the designated driver at that moment.
You had sat around in your small booth for another 30 minutes, debating if you should take the risk of one shot when the bartender set a colorful cocktail with a paper umbrella in it in front of you.
“I didn’t order this,” you said to the bartender, who was about to walk away. “I still need to drive home.”
The bartender looked at you. “I know. He did.”
She pointed to a booth on the other side of the club. You followed her finger to find a man looking at you, a hint of a smile on his lips. It was hard to make out his features with the lighting in the room, but he seemed to be decently attractive. Definitely better looking than the guy your friend had left with.
“Still,” you said, looking back at the bartender. “I shouldn’t have alcohol.”
“It’s a virgin cocktail,” she said before walking away.
You looked at the cocktail, fingers carefully taking the tiny umbrella out. You made sure to look straight at the man who’d sent it to you as you licked any remnants of the drink off it, sending him a message that said you were intrigued.
The way his eyes darkened from across the club had you feeling wet in seconds. He picked up his own drink – a scotch on the rocks – and maneuvered his way through the crowd to get to your table. You took in his curly hair and thick thighs as he got closer, trying to suppress the thoughts pressing at the forefront of your mind.
He slid into the booth next to you. “You here all alone?”
His voice was deep and had a slight accent that made your panties dampen even more, but you held a straight face.
“Not anymore.” You smirked. “Thank you for the drink by the way.”
“Well, if I had known you’d react like that, I would’ve sent it over a lot sooner.” He smiled at you.
God was there anything that wasn’t attractive about this man?
You hummed. “Liked seeing what I could do with my tongue?”
He chuckled. “Oh, sweetheart.” He leaned forward, his breath hitting the shell of your ear. “You and I both know there’s a lot more that tongue can do.”
You couldn’t help the whimper that slipped past your lips. His voice was husky and if you were standing you were sure your knees would’ve buckled.
You cleared your throat, trying to compose yourself. “I bet you’d love to see what I could do with my mouth.”
“Are you offering?” He smirked.
“I’m not offering anything until I get a name.”
He looked at you, trying to decide if it was worth the trouble.
“Calum,” he finally said.
“Calum,” you repeated. “Sounds like something I could get used to saying.”
He smirked, hand coming to rest on your thigh. “More like screaming.”
He could feel the chills arise on your skin, your short skirt doing nothing to hide how his words affected you. You clenched your thighs together as his hand slid closer to your heat, nearly cupping your sex. He leaned his head down towards yours, lips grazing when he spoke.
“I think we should go somewhere a little more private.”
You nodded and let him lead you by the hand towards the club’s bathroom. The music faded to a dull thump when you walked inside. Calum locked the door while you took the time to pull off your shirt. He groaned when he turned around to see you sliding out of your bra.
His hands roughly grabbed your waist, pulling you towards him for a hungry, sloppy kiss. Your hands slid under his shirt while you kissed, but Calum stopped you. He grabbed your hands tightly by the wrist, pulling away from the kiss.
“So eager,” he teased. “Haven’t gotten fucked in a while?”
You sheepishly shook your head no, your somewhat confident demeanor from earlier completely gone now.
“Don’t worry, babe,” he said, leaning down towards your ear. “I’m going to fucking ruin you.”
You moaned as he turned you around roughly and pushed you up against the bathroom counter. You watched in the mirror as he bunched your skirt up around your waist and pushed your panties down to your ankles. His hand didn’t hesitate to land a smack on the flesh of your ass, grinning wolfishly when you let out a surprised moan.
“Yeah, you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” he said. “Just love getting handled like a ragdoll.”
“Yes,” you agreed, voice filled with desperation. “Do it again, please.”
“Since you asked so nicely.” His hand came down harder than before, your body jolting forward at the impact. You registered the tears of pleasure beginning to form in your eyes as he spanked you several more times. When they finally fell, your makeup came running down with them.
Calum looked into the mirror, admiring the beautiful mess that you were. “So pretty,” he said. “All for me.”
“All for you,” you agreed. “Calum, please.”
“Please what? Hm? Use your words.”
“Please. I need you. Need your fingers.”
Calum smirked, hand traveling down to your soaked core. He rubbed his pointer and middle finger through your folds, bringing them up to his mouth to taste you. You moaned at the sight of it in the mirror.
“Tastes so good, love.”
His fingers came back down to your folds, swiping through them a couple times to gather your slick before sliding them into your hole. You moaned as he brushed the spongy spot inside you that felt as close to heaven as you could get.
He thrusted his fingers in and out, and as the pleasure grew you rested your head onto the cool counter. Your moans grew louder and more frequent as the pressure built up in your belly.
“Calum, I’m gonna cum.”
Calum didn’t say anything, only took his fingers out of you when he felt your walls tightening around them. You whined, but Calum shushed you.
“Be quiet,” he said harshly. “You’ll cum when I let you.”
You instantly shut your mouth, looking behind you to see Calum taking his shirt and pants off. He slid his underwear off, gripping his length and pumping it a few times. He walked up behind you, lining his tip up with your entrance.
Before he pushed into you, he gripped your hair and pulled you up roughly. “You’ll watch me as I fuck you.”
He pushed into you all the way, not letting up with his grip on your hair. He gave you no time to adjust as he pounded into you. Your hips would surely be bruised the next day with the way they hit the counter, but at the moment you could only think of how the pain added to the pleasure.
Calum used his grip on your hair to pull your back against his chest. The new position aided him in hitting a deeper spot inside you that had your head lolling back onto his shoulder. His hands moved from your waist to your breasts, groping them roughly and almost sending you into sensory overload.
He slapped one of your breasts and you moaned. Your hand found its way overtop his own, guiding his right hand down to your clit. You thought he would pull his hand away with how everything else had been going, but when he saw your pleasure-filled face he couldn’t help but give into your wants.
Your moans grew louder as all the stimulation had you impossibly close to your orgasm. “Calum, please, I need to cum.”
“Cum, baby,” he growled into your ear. “Let the whole club know who’s making you feel this good.”
You came with a broken cry of his name. He watched in the mirror as your eyes rolled back and you bit your lip. You looked otherworldly, and if Calum wasn’t so focused on the way your walls felt squeezing around him, he could’ve believed he was in a different realm completely.
“You’re so beautiful when you cum,” he whispered, so close to his own high.
“Thank you,” you mumbled, smiling at Calum in the mirror.
That was it for him. He pulled out and pumped his cock until he was cumming all over your ass. He groaned as he did, eyes squeezed shut in pure bliss.
When it was clear that he was done you bent down to pull up your underwear, pulling your skirt back down over your now bruised ass. You picked your bra and shirt off the ground, putting them back on. You leaned forward toward the mirror, wiping away the stray makeup under your eye.
You turned to Calum, who had recovered enough to pull on his own underwear. “That was amazing. I’m glad I accepted the drink.”
As you made your way toward the door Calum said, “We could always have another.”
You turned around to smirk at him, the tables turned as you were now the confident one. “Already pussy whipped, Cal?”
He frowned as he watched you unlock the door and walk out, leaving him alone, half-dressed, in the club bathroom. He didn’t even try to chase after you, either because he was too stunned by your comment or because he had a feeling that he would see you again, he didn’t know. He just knew you were right.
authors note- I actually have no idea what a celebrity assistant does, so bear with me. hope you like it!
Y/N slammed her car door shut, muttering, “Shit, shit, shit!” under her breath. Her white blouse was wrinkled, as she had quickly pulled it on and ran out the door of her apartment this morning. Shoving the silver key into her boss’s front door, she could hear 70’s soft rock playing throughout the house. Pushing the door open, she saw Ashton in the kitchen, clad in a white tank and a pair of sweatpants. “Are you kidding me?” she shouted, slamming her purse down on the counter.
Summary: Every person has a before and an after. Now it’s Ashton’s turn to deal with the after you created.
Warnings: Angst. Language. Mentions of alcohol. Probably some grammar mistakes (English is not my first language, I’m sorry)
Word count: 4 k
Author’s note: I missed writing for Ash so much! This fic comes with an afterthought question: Is there a bad guy in every story? Remember that Reblogs, Comments, Feedback and Likes are very important! They really help a lot and are more than welcome and encouraged, I love to hear from you guys 💕 Hope you like it and Happy Reading ✨🦋🌻
My materialist // wanna be part of my tag list?
The bitter liquor burned his throat as he swallowed the liquid like it was nothing, it felt like nothing. It was his first drink of the night and he cannot promise it would be his last. He knows he should be ashamed of himself but lately, he doesn’t even know who he is and if he would ever become the person he was again. Truth is, he doesn’t care, not anymore. Not since the day you left.
He could still remember how cold the house felt the day he came back just a little bit late. He remembers how his smile stiffened as he opened the door and couldn’t hear your laugh, or your voice, or even feel your presence anymore. He has almost forgotten how it was to live on his own, already so used to you.
His grip tightened around the glass, knuckles turning white as he felt the ice melt inside the empty glass, trying desperately to feel something other than the emptiness you left, not only at your side of the bed but also inside of him.
How could you just leave him like that? No note, no calls, no texts. It was like you were never there, to begin with.
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