You're Mine

The bass thumped through the bar like a second heartbeat, vibrating through the floor, the stools, the glasses lined up along the counter. Lights flickered in uneven bursts, purple, blue, gold, red casting everyone in shifting shadows that made everything feel a little less real, a little more reckless. It was the kind of place where people lost track of time. 

Y/n sat at the bar, one elbow resting lazily against the counter as he rotated his glass in slow circles. The ice clinked softly, barely audible over the music. He hadn’t checked the time in a while. There wasn’t much point. Nights like this followed a pattern he already knew by heart.

Y/n glanced over at his friend, Johnny, lowering his voice just enough to be heard over the music. “Hey… thanks for keeping the ring at your place.” 

Johnny’s head turned immediately, brows lifting. “Yeah, no problem,” he said, a grin already forming. He leaned in closer, “When are you gonna do it?” 

Y/n huffed quietly, looking back down at his drink for a second before glancing out toward the dance floor. 

Asa. 

Right in the middle of it, laughing, spinning, dragging her friends around like she had endless energy. Slightly off-beat, slightly reckless, completely herself. 

His expression softened without him realizing. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “Soon.” 

Johnny followed his gaze, spotting her almost instantly. “Soon,” he repeated, amused. “That helpful, huh?” 

Y/n smirked faintly. “I’m serious.” 

“I know you are,” Johnny said, nudging his shoulder lightly. “You’ve been serious for, what, three years now?” 

“Three years,” Y/n confirmed. 

Johnny let out a low whistle. “Moved in together after one year of dating, You have 2 cats named Milo and Oreo. Damn. You’re locked in.” 

Y/n didn’t even hesitate. “Yeah.” There was no uncertainty in it. 

No second-guessing. Johnny studied him for a second, the teasing easing just slightly into something more genuine. “Are you nervous?” 

Y/n exhaled slowly, eyes still on Asa. “…Not about her saying no.” 

Johnny snorted. “Yeah, she’d probably propose back out of spite if you took too long.” 

That got a quiet laugh out of Y/n. “I just want it to be right,” he said after a moment. “Not rushed. Not… random.” 

Johnny nodded, surprisingly understanding. “So not tonight, then?” he gestured vaguely at the chaos around them. 

Y/n glanced around, the flashing lights, the shouting, the packed dance floor, then back at Asa, who was currently laughing so hard she almost fell over. “…No,” he said, a small smile pulling at his lips. “Definitely not tonight.” 

“Good,” Johnny said. “Because if you dropped the ring in this place, it’s gone forever.” Y/n shook his head, amused, taking another sip of his drink.

His eyes drifted, unfocused at first, before landing, again, on the dance floor. 

Asa. 

She was right in the middle of it, like she always ended up. Surrounded by her friends, laughing too loud, moving without any real rhythm but somehow still fitting perfectly into the chaos. 

Her hair stuck slightly to her face, her smile wide and unfiltered, and every now and then she’d throw her head back like nothing else existed. Y/n exhaled quietly, the corner of his mouth lifting. 

Three years. 

Three years of knowing exactly how she got when she drank. Three years of late-night walks home, of her stealing his hoodie even though they literally shared a closet, of arguing over what to watch and then falling asleep before finishing anything anyway. Three years of knowing exactly how the night would go. 

Three years of a life that didn’t feel temporary anymore.

She’d dance until she was exhausted, get a little too tipsy, cling to him on the way home, and fall asleep halfway through whatever movie they put on in their shared apartment, or if the night went in a different direction, it would end with both of them between the sheets. It went that way more than once. And he wouldn’t trade it for anything. 

He took a sip from his drink, eyes still on her. She spun once, nearly knocking into someone, laughed it off, grabbed one of her friends’ hands, and pulled them back into the mess of bodies and music. 

“You look bored.” The voice came from his right. He turned his head, eyes landing on a girl leaning casually against the bar. Confident posture, easy smile, like she’d already decided how this interaction was supposed to go. 

He made eye contact with Johnny across from him.

“I’m not,” he said simply. 

“Really?” she said, tilting her head. “Because you’ve been sitting here alone for a while.” 

“I’m waiting.” 

“For?” she asked, stepping just a little closer. 

Y/n didn’t answer immediately. His eyes flicked back to the dance floor, scanning, There. Asa. But this time, she wasn’t laughing. She wasn’t dancing. She was looking directly at him. Or more specifically, At the girl beside him.

Y/n let out a small breath through his nose. Of course. “For my girlfriend, Whom I love,” he said, turning back. His tone was calm, easy, but firm in a way that didn’t invite misunderstanding. 

The girl raised a brow, glancing around. “I don’t see her.” 

“She sees you,” he replied. 

The girl let out a small laugh, like she thought he was joking, but then she followed his gaze. 

And her expression shifted. Because Asa was already moving. Not weaving this time, walking straight through people, pushing past shoulders, ignoring the calls from her friends behind her. 

Slightly unsteady, sure, but focused. 

Y/n straightened a little on his stool, setting his glass down. He wasn’t worried. Not really. Because after three years, there wasn’t much left to question between them. No doubt. No insecurity that lingered long enough to matter. 

But Asa? Asa felt things loudly. And right now, she was feeling something. 

The girl beside him shifted awkwardly, suddenly aware she’d stepped into something she didn’t understand. 

And then Asa was there. 

No hesitation. 

Her hand came up fast, gripping his jaw, turning his face toward her. And then she kissed him. Hard. It wasn’t gentle or careful, it was intense, sudden, and just a little uncoordinated. 

Enough that his balance tipped, the barstool wobbling beneath him. “Woah–” He caught himself, hands instinctively finding her waist, steadying both of them. His grip tightened slightly as he grounded himself, and her. It took him half a second to register what she was doing. 

When she pulled back, it wasn’t far. Her hand was still on his face, her cheeks flushed, her eyes sharp despite the alcohol. 

Y/n blinked once, then let out a quiet breath, a small, almost amused smile pulling at his lips. “Asa…” 

She didn’t look at him. Instead, she turned her head toward the other girl. “Back off,” she said, voice flat but firm. “He’s mine. Bye now.” 

There was no hostility for the sake of it, just certainty. Like she was stating a fact. Because to her, it was. 

The girl blinked, clearly thrown off. She hesitated, then gave a small scoff and stepped back. “Yeah… alright,” she muttered before slipping away into the crowd. 

Asa didn’t watch her go. Didn’t need to. Instead, she grabbed Y/n’s hand, tight, and pulled him off the stool. 

“Hey Asa–” No response. She was already dragging him through the crowd, weaving between people with surprising determination. Y/n followed, half laughing under his breath now, letting himself be pulled along. 

This wasn’t new, not exactly. Asa had always been a little intense when she cared. And she cared a lot. 

He glanced back over his shoulder, spotting Johnny still at the bar, staring like he’d just witnessed something unbelievable. “I’ll transfer you money!” Y/n called out quickly. His friend blinked, then nodded slowly, still processing. 

The door swung open, and cool night air hit them instantly, cutting through the heat and noise. Asa didn’t stop until they were a few steps away from the entrance. 

Then she paused. But she didn’t let go. For a moment, neither of them said anything. The music dulled behind the door, replaced by the quiet hum of the street. 

Y/n looked down at her, their hands still intertwined. “…You good?” he asked gently. 

Asa exhaled, shoulders rising and falling. Some of the sharpness in her expression faded, replaced with something softer, more honest. “I didn’t like that,” she muttered.

“I figured.” 

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” she added quickly, glancing up at him. “I know that. I trust you. Obviously.” There was a small pause, like she was choosing her words more carefully than usual. “I just… didn’t like her looking at you like that.” 

Y/n’s expression softened. That was Asa. Not doubt. Not fear. Just… protectiveness. Possessiveness, in its own messy, honest form. “…Jealous?” he asked lightly. 

She shot him a look. “Don’t push it.” He huffed a quiet laugh, his free hand coming up to rest against her waist, familiar and steady. 

“I told her I have a girlfriend,” he said. “One I love, by the way.” 

Asa’s expression shifted slightly at that. “…Good,” she mumbled. 

A small pause settled between them. Then she stepped closer, closing the gap completely this time, her grip on his hand loosening just slightly, but not letting go. 

Her voice dropped, quieter now. “…You’re still mine.” 

Y/n looked down at her, something warmer settling into his expression. Not teasing this time. Not amused. Just certain. “Yeah,” he said. “I am.” 

Asa held his gaze for a second longer, like she was checking for something, making sure it was real, that he meant it. Then her shoulders finally relaxed. Not completely. But enough. Her head tipped forward slightly, resting against his chest for just a second, like the adrenaline was wearing off all at once. 

Y/n’s hand slid up her back, slow and reassuring. “Next time,” he added quietly, “maybe don’t look like you're about to kill someone.” 

She huffed softly against him. “…No promises.” And despite everything, the chaos, the jealousy, the almost-fall off a barstool, Y/n couldn’t help the small smile that pulled at his lips. 

She then hit him in the arm “What was that for?” He asked.

“You still let her entertain the idea.” 

Y/n raised a brow. “I thought I was the victim tonight.” 

She huffed, already tugging him forward again. “Doesn’t matter.”

She flagged a taxi. “You are going to take me home and I will show you who owns you.” she said while looking deeply into his eyes.

“I have no complaints, I am yours.”

“Good.”

The door to your shared apartment slams shut behind you, the sound echoing as Asa's body pins yours to the wall in a frenzy of heavy making out. Asa's mouth was on his, sloppy, demanding, tasting like tequila and cherry lip gloss. Her fingers twisted into his hair, yanking his head back just enough to bite his lower lip, hard enough to sting.

Her lips crush yours, tongue dominating your mouth, whiskey breath hot and intoxicating as her slightly drunk hands claw at your shirt, yanking it open. She's in charge, always has been in these heated moments

He groaned into her mouth, his hands finding her hips, pulling her flush against him. The thin fabric of her dress did nothing to hide the heat of her skin, the press of her thighs against his. He could feel the wet heat of her through his jeans, soaked through her panties already, and his cock twitched, thickening against his zipper.

Three years of dating, and nights like this, sparked by the bar's throbbing music, stolen glances from other guys, and her jealous fire, still make her unleash like a storm. 

Asa broke the kiss, breathing ragged, her eyes dark and glassy in the dim light from the streetlamp outside. She swayed slightly, three shots of whiskey and a tequila chaser still burning in her stomach, but her words came out sharp, clear, absolute.

"Get on your knees and eat me out like a good boy." She commands, voice husky from the drinks.

Y/n dropped without hesitation. His knees hit the hardwood floor with a dull thud, and his hands went straight to the hem of her dress, pushing it up her thighs. The black lace of her panties was already sticking to her, a dark wet patch blooming at the center. He pressed his mouth to the spot, tasting her through the fabric, and she gasped, her fingers tightening in his hair.

"I said eat me out," she growled, her voice low and impatient. "Not play with me."

He hooked his fingers into the waistband of her panties and pulled them down her legs, letting them pool around her ankles. Her pussy was slick, swollen and demanding.

He didn't wait. He leaned in, spread her open with his thumbs, and dragged his tongue from her entrance all the way up to her clit, flat and firm, drinking her in.

"Fuck," Asa breathed, her head falling back against the wall. Her hips rocked forward, grinding her cunt against his mouth. "That's it. Just like that."

He circled her clit with the tip of his tongue, then sucked it between his lips, gentle at first, then harder as she moaned above him. Her grip on his hair tightened, pulling him deeper into her. You plunge your tongue inside her clenching hole, then return to circle her swollen nub while two fingers slide in, curling to hit her g-spot. She grinds harder, thighs clamping your head, breath ragged. 

"Yes– right there– don't you fucking stop– "

He didn't. He fucked her with his fingers, slow and deep, while his tongue worked her clit in tight, wet circles. The sounds she made, gasping, desperate, her thighs trembling against his ears, pushed him harder. He could taste her building, the way her slick grew thicker, the way her inner walls began to flutter around his fingers.

"Gonna come," she warned, her voice breaking. "Don't you dare stop, don't you—"

She came with a sharp cry, her hips grinding against his face, her slick flooding his tongue. He kept lapping at her through it, drawing it out until her legs gave out and she sagged against the wall, panting.

He pulled back, licking his lips, his chin wet with her.

Asa looked down at him, a lazy, satisfied smile on her face. "Take me to the bed, baby."

He stood, scooping her up easily, one arm under her knees, the other around her back. She looped her arms around his neck and pressed a kiss to his jaw, soft and drunk.

He carried her through the dark hallway to the bedroom, kicked the door open, and dropped her onto the mattress. She bounced once, laughing, then propped herself up on her elbows, watching him.

"You, my darling, are going to fuck me until we pass out. Okay?"

"Yes, my darling."

He didn't waste time. He pulled his shirt off over his head, kicked off his jeans, and his cock sprang free, hard and aching, the tip already slick with precum. She watched him with hooded eyes, her legs spreading wide, her fingers trailing down her stomach to her own wet cunt, playing with herself while he stripped.

"Get over here," she said, and it wasn't a request.

He crawled onto the bed, settling between her legs. She grabbed his cock, guiding him to her entrance, rubbing the head through her slick folds, up over her clit, then back down, teasing them both.

"You're mine," she said, locking eyes with him.

"Always."

She pushed his hips forward, and he sunk into her in one slow, wet thrust. He buried his face in her neck, groaning as her heat swallowed him, tight and wet and perfect. She wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, her nails raking down his back.

"You're mine," she repeated, her voice a whisper against his ear.

"Always," he breathed back, and he began to move.

He fucked her slow at first, deep strokes that pulled almost all the way out before driving back in, his cock dragging against her walls, the wet sound of their bodies filling the room. Her breath came in sharp little gasps, her hips rising to meet him, her hands clutching his shoulders.

"You feel that?" she asked, her voice ragged. "You feel how wet you make me? This pussy is yours. It always has been. Yes?"

"Always…Always been mine." he groaned, his rhythm picking up.

"You're mine." Harder now, a demand.

"Always." His thrusts grew faster, harder, the headboard starting to knock against the wall.

She took his face in her hands, forcing him to look at her. Her eyes were dark, focused, the drunkenness burned away by something deeper, something possessive. "Say it. Say you belong to me."

"I belong to you," he said, his voice rough. "Every part of me. My cock, my mouth, my hands, all yours."

"Good boy."

She flipped them, pinning him to the mattress, straddling his hips. She sank onto him, taking him all the way to the hilt, and rode him hard, her thighs slapping against his, her head thrown back, her breasts bouncing. He watched her, mesmerised, his hands gripping her hips, guiding her pace.

Her clit rubs your pelvic bone, building her again. She straightens, she puts her hands on your thighs making herself on display as she impales herself. “Grab my ass, spank it, show me how easy it is for me to command you.”

You snake your arms around her waist and place your hands on her ass and smack her cheek, the red bloom making her yelp and fuck faster, pussy dripping down your shaft.  "You're mine," she said again, her voice breaking as she came, her pussy clenching around him.

"Always."

He came with her name on his lips, his cock pulsing deep inside her, his release mixing with hers, hot and wet.

She collapsed onto his chest, both of them slick with sweat, breathing hard. 

"You're mine."

"Always."

They went on like that, through positions and orgasms, through whispered affirmations and desperate cries. They both slipped into exhausted, tangled sleep, still joined, still hers. Still his.

She nuzzles your neck, cock softening inside. “Three years, and you fuck like you'll never stop proving it. You're mine.”

 “Always,” you murmur, drifting off entwined in your shared bed, her control absolute even in sleep. 

Back at the bar, sat Johnny— 

Holding onto a secret, and a ring— 

And already looking forward to what comes next.