Dan Howell Smut

Club Sighting

Strutting into a random bar, exuding confidence was definitely what you didn't expect yourself to be to doing on a boring friday night but alas, you found yourself with elaborate hair and makeup in a tight dress you pulled from your closet.

When you entered the front two doors, it felt like all eyes were on you, which was a surprisingly new sensation but you sure as hell weren't complaining.

Thirty minutes were spent at the bar, strange men coming to you, buying you a drink and attempting to hit on you but being proven useless as you had your eyes on one in particular.

He was sitting across the room doing shots with his friends clad in a black button down, a few buttons undone, and tight black jeans, his messy dark hair swept to the side and his chocolate eyes locked on you.

After a half hour of waiting for him to make a move, you decide to pursue him, bringing your drink and setting it on the table, liquid courage pulsing through your veins.

Grabbing his hand, he stands, mere inches from your lips as he pushes the stray hairs from your face and leaning down even closer.

"What's your name baby?"

"Y/n"

"Nice to meet you, y/n. Name's Dan."

Dragging him to the dance floor, his hands find your waist and your bodies intermingle.

"I'm in love with the shape of you," he chuckles as you press your bum against his front side and grind, giggling to yourself and wrapping your arms around his neck.

Leaving the club with his arm around you waist, teasing you in the back of the cab before pinning you to his bed, letting the sheets swallow your scent.

//

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