Boys in Bands (Open Requestable One Shots)

Oliver Sykes : Bar Fight (Smut)

Angel*

"Wow. You look hot.", my friend Milan says to me as soon as I step out of the bathroom. I blush profusely at her suggestive eyes.

"You think so?", I ask looking into the body length mirror, I pull down the sides of the skin tight black mini dress. My stilettos were almost taller than I was, It was a wonder I could walk at all. My hair was loosely curled and fell lightly onto my bare shoulders.

"Definitely.", her voice is slick, "So who's the lucky guy... or the unlucky guy?", she knew I never dressed up without a good cause.

"Well, Dean is going to be there tonight. I just wanted to make him regret ever hurting me."

"By making him jealous as hell? I should have known.", she smirks.

"Exactly.", I smirk back. We both looked pretty hot tonight, her dress matched mine in everything except colour. Her dress was white.

"Let's go."

We got to the packed entrance of the high end club, we got easily since we were all dolled up. The place was packed, the neon lights illuminate everything. It was like being on a trip. The dance floor was crowded with attractive bodies grinding against other attractive bodies. Smoke shot up my nostrils furiously but I didn't mind, it was the whole atmosphere that got my blood pumping and my energy up. The bar was packed, but I could spot him from a mile away. Call what I was doing trivial, but it was how girls coped when they were hurt and I was hurt. I'll spare you the boring details but basically; we were friends, we got close, fell in love and then he slept with an ex friend of mine. It was really cliché, wasn't great or anything.

I slipped into an opening into the bar, right next to Dean. Pretending not to notice him but trying my hardest to catch his attention. I called over to the bartender.

"Vodka and sprite.", I yelled leaning slightly across the bar. I saw him turn his head to look at me, he scanned my body up and down. He looked genuinely surprised to see me so dressed up.

"Angel?", his voice rung through my ears.

"Oh, hi.", I said brushing my hair off my shoulder and turning my head to the bar again.

"Well well. Who would have thought I'd run into good old conservative Angel in a place like this.", he laughed to himself, I could just make his words out over the deafening music.

"Can't say the same for you, you're always around the easy targets."

"You're here aren't you?", I didn't think that through, "You look great though, by prostitution standards. It's cute how you dressed up all fancy just to bump into me here."

This was really not going how I'd hoped. I always freeze and panic when I'm confronted by Dean, he makes me feel completely inadequate and just plain retarded.

"You're here alone? Oh, of course you are.", he said smugly and took a sip of his whiskey.

I couldn't handle it, I wasn't prepared. I was too soft, too fragile, it still hurt. I felt the tears building up around the rims of my eyes. I had to hold it in, he wasn't going to break me again, but what could I say?

Just as I was about to turn around to leave and run to the car to cry, I felt an arm snake around my waist. I look down at the beautifully tattooed arm draped lightly around my waist. The owner of the hand speaks from behind me with a heavy Brit accent.

"Actually mate, she's with me and if you keep speaking to her like that I'm going to break your crooked teeth with this here bottle.", his voice was soft, but a little rough and It sounded so familiar. I smirked at Dean who looked back at the man in shock and walked off quickly.