#sunny writes fanfiction

[sunnikos]

I've never been told I'm a very empathetic person. I'm callous, cold. The ice prince, they call me. Still, in moments like this.. on a day like this.. I couldn't let that poor rat suffer in pain, alone. 

I had been walking from my apartment to a nearby convenience store for something cheap to drown out my other thoughts. It's funny, I had never spotted a rat in this part of town. What with the upscale buildings and well dressed strangers that filled these streets, why would I? Perhaps it's vain of me to complain about that. In the end, I chose this. I made my bed here.

The rodent had been panting in the gutter. I could tell this was her last night. What an ugly evening to die. She had soft neat fur, it was a light gray color. She was not built for the streets, she was meant to be cared for, with a large cage, the best foods for her small stomach, and some form of enrichment every day. She was meant to be held, cherished, spoiled.

I looked around, street lights and closed stores met my vision. I saw murky clouds in the sky covering any constellations I may have seen if the light pollution wasn't so strong here. How unlucky, that such a pretty rat has to fade away, here, tonight. 

My eyes were dry, I can't remember the last time I cried sober. 

I cradled her in my hands and fed her something savory. I had gotten something salty to sulk alone in my apartment and munch on while I drank myself into delusion. I guess I still ended up delusional tonight. 

I stroked her fur and whispered to her. She's such a sweet thing. Who could let her rot like this? Rats are supposed to have companions too. They're social creatures, they get depressed on their own like this. Rats can't cry either. If they could, she didn't. 

Maybe it doesn't mean much but I loved her. In her last moments she was cared for. I did what the last person didn't. 

[rafesweetie]

⋆˚࿔ espresso ꥟ ˚⋆ — sunny!reader x rafe

“ walked in and dream-came-trued for ya! “

i believe the saying goes, “she was like a shot of espresso.” rafe didn’t think that saying could fit a person more than it could fit you.

he’d see you at parties, dancing with his sister or giggling with the pogues. you never could seem to pick a side. this whole pogue vs kook rivalry never crossed your mind, for you were simply friends with everyone in kildare. he’d see you at the beach with your friends, tanning while listening to silly pop music and sipping on a fruity canned drink. you reminded him of the sun.

there was one night where sarah cameron invited you to her place for a start-of-summer party. rafe was dealing some coke, as per usual, and his eyes followed you as you walked in, holding hands with sarah while she led you inside. he’d never understood why girls held hands with each other, but wheezie said that it’s a universal girl thing, and he ‘would never get it.’

topper elbowed rafe out of his trance, laughing about how rafe had a little crush.

“nah, nah,” rafe denied instantly. “isn’t she a pogue?”

topper shakes his head. “nope. she just hangs out with them. her parents own that flashy smoothie shop, she’s a kook,”

“…oh, that’s good,” rafe mutters. he can’t quite avert his gaze from you.

“aw man, you’re desperate,” kelce is on his other side, patting his back, making rafe grunt and shoo him off. rafe can’t relate to desperation.

his night goes on per usual, getting bundles of cash handed to him as he deals. until topper speaks up after a bit. “she just broke up with pope,” he informs rafe. “she’s on the market,”

“yeah?” rafe checks.

“yeah. you should go talk to her,”

rafe hesitates, staring at you again. you’re not a dancer by any means, but both you and sarah are wiggling your shoulders a bit when a good song comes up. rafe would assume you’re drunk, the way your giggles echo through the room and the way you spill your drink when you stumble into sarah. but he thinks that’s just you, drunk on life. he eventually speaks. “no fucking way, she’s with my sister right now. sarah would lose her shit if i talked to little miss sunshine over there,”

“yeah, well, need i remind you i’m dating sarah, so i’ll just get her away, go make out for a bit, she looks drunk,” topper offers.

“…a’ight. yeah, lets do it bro.” rafe agrees, and they both get up off the couch. rafe stands a little bit away as he grabs another vodka pink lemonade for you, maybe a subtle bribe into talking, and a beer for himself. topper talks to sarah for a bit, greets you, then leads sarah away.

rafe’s literally directly behind you, when suddenly you’re already talking to someone else. you’re pretty chatty, it seems. rafe hangs around to catch you after your next conversation. but then he looks away for one second, then you’re gone again. he spots you on the balcony, with jj maybank. then a couple minutes later, you’re with kie carrera. then you’re shotgunning a drink with sofia. holy shit. you’ve got him wrapped around your finger already, and he looks so cute chasing after you. if he’s not pushy, he’ll never get his chance. so, channeling his inner ward cameron, he spots you with ruthie (who he never would’ve assumed you would associate with. maybe you’re just being polite), and he puts a hand on your shoulder from behind, spinning you around. “y/n. right?”

you blink, not expecting the sudden interruption. but you regain yourself quickly, smiling. “hi! yeah, i am,” you say. your voice sounds as sweet as honey. “you’re rafe cameron?”

you know who he is? he shouldn’t be surprised, you seem to know everyone, but he likes that you know, anyway. “uh, yeah, yeah, that’s me,”

“well it’s so nice to meet you,” you smile up at him. “it’s funny, sofia used to mention you a lot, and obviously im close friends with your sister. but i’ve never met you before,”

“..you’re friends with sofia?” is all he can think to ask.

“mhm. i’ve known her since grade 5. we’re not like, super close now, but we were when you guys dated,” sensing his sudden aversion to talking about her, his ex girlfriend, you shut up. “um, wanna go grab a drink?”

“oh— shit, yeah, um, brought one for you, actually,” he hands you the vodka pink lemonade. “saw you drinking one earlier, so..”

“oh my gosh, thank you so much,” you say. is he that sweet? you guess so.

“yeah, ‘course. heard sarah talk about you, and it’s all been good things, so i figured i’d try and meet you myself,”

“well now you have. i’ve heard her talk about you too,” you don’t have the heart to say it hasn’t been very good things.

it feels like this awkward small talk is going in circles. but maybe that’s a good, slow way to start something.

your name is suddenly called by a group of girls a couple meters away. “it was so nice to meet you rafe. i should go, they want me,” you say softly, reaching for his hands. he remembers when you came in holding sarah’s hands. it seems to be your thing. “i’ll see you around?”

“yeah—“ he clears his throat, gaining the courage to hold yours back. “yeah. see you around, y/n,”

you smile. you could swear he’s blushing. “you’re cute,” you say softly, squeezing his hands once more before retreating away.

he feels like he just took a shot of espresso, and now he’ll be thinking of you every night.

[sunnie-angel]

Jason Todd is used to violence. He’s a little less used to love.

The first time you give Jason a hickey, it’s bittersweet. For a man so used to violence and all its aftermaths, that small mark on the vulnerable reach of his throat leaves him shell shocked. He presses down at that fresh bruise and is astounded at the lack of violence. That the violently marred planes of his body can bear the evidence of affection just as well. It surprises him a little, how two such opposed things can end up looking so similar. He’ll take a thousand little bruises from you if they’re made of love.

Every morning after you, he stands in front of his bathroom mirror and catalogues the damages. Symmetrical purple blooms on each collarbone, a fading one overlapping an old bullet wound on his chest, more scattered along his pulse points. He presses careful fingers down on each one and wonders at how close your sharp teeth came to the fragile parts of him. Decides how he wouldn’t mind an imprint of your jaws if you chose to give it to him. Thinks abstractly about how he’d look decorated in ruby droplets and your grin.

Jason Todd is used to violence. He’s a little less used to love. Sometimes for him, the boundaries get a little blurry.

[dapper-lil-arts]

I'm not the kind of person that's like "Here let me fix the canon" usually but like holy crap gen 5 implied a lot of messed up shit about our hero Twilight Sparkle lmao

[carrotcouple]

"Are you in love with me?" Chuuya asks suddenly as Dazai is putting the finishing touches of the house he created out of all of Chuuya's toothpicks.

The house collapses into a heap.

"You made me lose my concentration, chibi!" Dazai cries out.

"Unfortunate," Chuuya deadpans.

"Just because you're jealous that-" Dazai begins.

"I'm not jealous of your toothpick skills," Chuuya clarified.

"Just because you want to sabotage me at every turn cause you want all my attention, doesn't mean you can ruin my projects," Dazai sniffs.

"Aren't you talking about yourself?" Chuuya asks.

"The deflection-"

"You're in love with me," Chuuya says. It's not a question this time.

Dazai silently stares at him, looking like a deer caught in headlights.

"Good," Chuuya says. He hadn't been expecting an answer. "I am too."

Dazai's fingers twitch. Chuuya resists the urge to laugh, but a satisfied smile does spread across his face. He holds out his arms.

"Come here," he says.

Dazai shoots out of his seat, arms wrapping around Chuuya too tightly to be comfortable, leaning forward with all his body weight making Chuuya bend backwards.

"Now will you explain why you've been sending stalker mail to Port Mafia members?" Chuuya asks.

"No," Dazai breathes.

[ohsunnyboy]

stopping me now | jung sungchan ˚₊‧⁺˖

early mornings, bitter coffee and jung sungchan, all staples of your office life until one morning goes wrong just right

TAGS: office!au, gn!reader, romcom type of vibe, forced proximity, strangers to lovers, sorta mutual pining, awkward!reader who is rly intense abt their spreadsheets

A/N: office au is my fav au so sungchan in one is my ultimate self-indulgence! sorry it's been a while :] (first riize fic let's goooo)

WORDS: ~1950

Jung Sungchan is missing.

Ding! 

You don't actually know each other. Counting the months, it's been almost a year of standing in silent acknowledgement within this tiny elevator. In fact, you shouldn't even know his name! You only managed to find it out when he dropped his lanyard when you two were clocking out, and you picked it up for him, but he only blushed, yelped his thanks and ran!

Was he hiding unapproved invoices? was his department over budget? you swear that the accounting department isn't that scary!

Ding!

Should standing in an elevator for nearly fifteen minutes count as your morning commute? It really shouldn't but here you are. The coffee in your hands went cold about 5 floors ago, the usual ache in your feet is starting to kick in, and you can feel the humidity wreaking havoc on your hair. You really do want to curse out the big shot who thought that having offices on the 40th floor was a good idea. Partly, you think that Sungchan would also curse them out as well.

By floor thirty something, you almost fall asleep before a familiar sight steps into the lift. And unfortunately enough, he looks to be in the same state as you are.

Ready to murder, or be the first one to die in said horror film. You wonder if Sungchan likes horror movies too. Every office worker should: it gets the stress out very well. In fact, he might’ve been staying up late watching them; the bags under his eyes really don’t compliment the lack of caffeine in his hands. You almost feel half tempted to give him your own cold cup to help tide his morning over.

Sungchan slots right into place at the back of the elevator next to you. His broad shoulders knocking into you slightly due to the cramp of the lift.

After a year of it, you’d like to think you’re used to the space he takes up in your life; physically and mentally.

The thing is, for a guy that works an office job, Jung Sungchan is not a bad looking man at all. Always looking like he's attending the first day of school with a pressed collar and ironed tie, it's hard to look... and not fall in love with him in the process. Never once in your commuting life have you ever seen a hair out of place on him. He's closest you've ever physically gotten to the picture of corporate happiness and 100% customer satisfaction, while you get into daily arguments with your Excel spreadsheet.

Ding!

A trolley of files comes wheeling into the cube of claustrophobia, forcing you to squeeze further into the corner until you find yourself between a cold corner and a warm place. The thought of whatever department’s budget goes flying out the window when — Ah.

The smell of citrus falls over you like a waterfall. Sungchan’s cologne must be dumped in his hair because it’s suddenly all you know. It makes you dizzy, so much so, that you barely notice him sheepishly grinning down at you. He’s leant on his forearm, next to your head, caging you in, and his other is desperately trying not to dig his messenger bag into your side.

"So sorry about this," he whispers. It feels conspiratorial in the tight space, but almost everyone else has earbuds in and probably have bigger things to worry about.

You tilt up to look at him, not forgetting to linger on the long column of his throat exposed by his grey suit. "S'fine,” you mumble up to him, sorely aware of the way his wide eyes stare into yours. "Nice to meet you?" you eke out. You try and go for casual and smooth, but your heart sounds like a clattering of the subway: raucous in your ears.

Maybe it has been a year of pining away. Staring after Sungchan and his unfairly good proportions and rolling mountain shoulders. You don’t know how the PR interns haven’t already kidnapped him to make some sexy corporate calendar. However, you do know that it would increase revenue for the entire first quarter and save you about 10 less board meetings on budget caps. The content of said photoshoots is all you can dazedly think about as he shifts again, shuffling further into the wall and further into your mental mess.

Ding!

Sungchan’s smile is wicked as it breaks you from your thoughts. "Lovely to meet you, elevator buddy." And he sends you an overconfident wink for your efforts – with a small blush to dash. “Would love to shake your hand but, we’re ah – a bit occupied.”

You quirk a brow. “Elevator buddy?”

Sungchan’s grin doesn’t relent, even at your scrunched expression. "I've spent the past year calling you that, you're not stopping me now.” He says the last bit under his breath, as the lady with the trolley backs up even further into him and pushes him impossibly closer to you. His lips end up skimming your forehead and sending an involuntary chill down your spine, while your right hand ends up flat on his chest, your left jammed awkwardly into your side with your coffee.

Pull it together, please God, pull it together.

“The last year?” Is all you can get out coherently. It’s impossible to take deep breaths when every thought in your head is being thrown out of a metaphorical window. Citrus and smoke, hands and lips, months and quarters. This elevator crush is going to haunt you for life if you go back to silence after all this. Stop asking questions damn it!

Sungchan hums, the sensation sinking into your bones. “It’s about then, no? It was my first time in the building because it was the BigHit and Pledis merger last year,” he says, awfully fond. “You had a massive dossier of balance sheets, and I crashed into you in the elevator lobby because you never saw me. Your papers went everywhere!” Sungchan trails off in a laugh, however your mind starts taking very careful steps back into the past…

You barely remember last year. Only the stress piling up on your table from one too many days working after hours in the quiet with Eunseok. The grid lines of spreadsheets permanently etched onto your screens and into your retinas. Neither company was willing to give an inch for each other in spite of the whole “merger” idea, forcing far too many revisions, far too close to the deadline those prissy higher ups set. And so, the entire fate of departments rested on your two heavily overworked shoulders.

Running into someone like Sungchan would have never crossed your mind then. Being all wrapped up in your stress, there was no way you’d pay that much attention to a pretty face. One incident in particular though… ding!

“Wait… you’re the one that spilt their pretentious oat milk chai latte on the finalised budget reports?!” You don’t even know if that was his actual drink order but all you remember was flying into a fit of red rage when green bled all over your precious, freshly printed work.

To hell with kissing him; a kiss with your fist was way more overdue. 

Sungchan practically squawks as he jumps to justify himself. “I didn’t spill anything! I just accidentally walked into you and the papers – and my latte ­– went flying! Not my fault.” His hand snakes down from the wall and onto yours resting on his chest. If you could physically look him in the eyes, you’d be sure there’d be some fire of determination in them.

Now, it’s his heartbeat, clattering under your ear like the ticking of keycaps; it’s his heat, sticking his shirt under your palm like tack; it’s his voice, shaking like an intern at the barest critique. His hand dwarfs yours: long fingers tracing the lines of yours. 

Your temper matches in step with your heart, beating against your mind in double time. “Do you know how long it takes to print double sided for a full dossier?! All of it to end up on the floor, covered in your hipster green tea latte! I have full authority to half whatever budg—"

Ding!

— “Hey, you two, this is your floor.” The tired voice of general manager Kim Doyoung chirps in. Red floods your face at the thought of someone watching you lose your head. Nevertheless, Doyoung watches on with a boredom only he could achieve. “You, save the death threats for feedback week, and Sungchan — don’t mess with someone from accounting.”

Sungchan takes the hint and peels himself off you, the smell of citrus still making you dizzy. The crowd barely parts, but he uses his size, pushing the way for the both of you. His enormous hand holding yours through the crowd and guiding you out of the cube of stress. When the doors whir shut behind you, he takes your empty coffee cup and dumps it into the bin.

Never would you think you’d be left hand in hand with Sungchan in an isolated elevator lobby. He’s still clasped onto you with a vice grip: his heat searing into your palms like hot iron. It burns being this close. The buzzing AC in the lobby being the only thing keeping you alive.

Nobody talks for a second, letting the silence say it’s piece before your mouth starts moving before you’ve processed what it’s doing. "If anyone reports us to HR, I am so so sorry.”

Sungchan takes a breath, blinking those wide doe eyes at you before his face splits into a grin. “No, don’t worry. I don’t think Doyoung-hyung will kick up much fuss,” he smiles.

Only now do you remember Doyoung is the head of HR and your heart kicks into double time again, but how is Sungchan so calm about this? As if reading your mind, he squeezes your hand to reassure you before dropping your it. “Stop looking so worried! Just look.” He pulls his lanyard out from where he usually stashes it in his breast pocket, and you nearly trip over your feet when you see it.

"I am HR." What the hells.

The look on your face must give it all away as Sungchan’s laugh echoes in the empty elevator lobby. And hells, the kid – is he even younger than you?? – knows he’s got you wrapped around his finger. "Maybe I will just file a complaint,” he says with a smile. “What was that again? Threatening to half our department budget?”

He tilts his head all coy like he’s not the one at fault here. The audacity, really. You shake your head in mild disbelief and shrug off your nerves. Oh, you know what? Might as well go for it. What’s stopping you now? Definitely not HR.

"Bold words from someone who singlehandedly setback the entire Bighit-Pledis merger back by a whole day,” you counter, head raised in even challenge. Sensible accountant alarm bells are ringing in your mind, but you clamp down on them. “Shouldn’t you, be making up to me?”

It’s your turn to fan your lashes and pout your lips. Savouring in the way he pretends to think and avoid staring at your pouted lips.

"There might just be something..." His long fingers pull you in by the lapels, just a hair away. A blush must flush all the way down you from the way his eyes light up. You watch his lips curl into that grin of his, already thinking about what’s next. Citrus and smoke, hands and lips, months and quarters.

"Not here, sweetness." And his smile is just as deadly as yours.

Fuck the spreadsheets. You’ve got a private meeting in board room #127 with corporate happiness.

hope i haven’t lost my touch :) thanks sm for reading and if you enjoyed, a reblog would be nice to help encourage more <3 ⭒ masterlist

[cynosfunnyjokes]

A Heart’s A Heavy Burden

Characters: Howl x Reader

Genre: Angst

Warning: None that I can think of.

Summary: Loving Howl Pendragon isn’t easy.

Word Count: 827

Summary: Not really edited or anything- I’m sure there’s mistakes all throughout but I wrote this while watching Howl’s Moving Castle for the umpteenth time lmao. No pronouns are used for the reader!

Apprenticing under Howl was such a joy- never was there a dull moment. He would brighten up the room with his smile- his laugh. It was so contagious that you and Markl couldn't fight the grins growing on your own faces.

Meeting Howl on its own was nothing but luck- you had found yourself in some trouble with the guards, their stupid remarks making you nothing but uncomfortable- and then poof, a stranger was there, whisking you away.

How strange that the random man was Howl himself- a well-known sorcerer and someone you looked up to. Of course, you nervously asked him to take you on as an apprentice, eagerly telling him about your interest in magic since you were young.

He simply laughed, smiling that bright smile everyone adored, and simply agreed to take you in.

All went well- he was a great teacher after all. Even with him being gone at random times throughout the day, you had Markl to spend time with to practice. And then there was Calcifer and his witty remarks. They never bothered you, simply jokingly throwing one back at him.

It didn't take long for feelings to grow for the mysterious sorcerer- everyone noticed it but Howl himself. Not that it was surprising.

Even Calfcifer noticed but never said about it, unlike Markl who made random remarks during the day in whispers, causing you to hide your face while the blush crept up to your ears.

Although one day, while cleaning up the firepit during the time Howl was away, Calficer clicked his tongue at you.

Raising an eyebrow, you turned your head to the burning ball of fire in front of you, silently asking him “what?”

“You really do love him, don't you?”

It was so sudden, it felt so random-

But that’s all he said. That's all he needed to say.

You were undeniably in love with Howl, and you could only hope the feelings were reciprocated. Maybe, just maybe they were.

All hope went down the drain the moment Sophie showed up. Suddenly, Howl wasn't around as much anymore- and when he was, he was with her.

It was always her. Sophie this, Sophie that.

Slowly, the feelings of sadness crept in, their sharp nails jabbing into your heart.

Is this what heartbreak felt like?

Eventually, you stopped leaving your room- opting to just study the days away instead of focusing on the pain residing in your heart.

Markl would stop by to check on you, dropping off food that would stay nothing but untouched, slowly growing cold as time passed.

Even though you appreciated Markl’s company, it didn't help that he often talked about Sophie- how cool she was. All this, all that.

It was all too much.

Howl never stopped in to talk- to check on you. Not that you expected him to. He was his own person who had his own things to do. He was a busy man after all. But still, you found yourself clinging to that hope- just to have it crushed.

Eventually, even Markl stopped popping in, choosing to set the food down on your table before retreating to Sophie.

It was fine. It was all fine. That's what you always told yourself.

But yet... Why did it hurt so much?

Pressing shaking hands against your tear-filled eyes, the only sound that could be heard was small sobs that you were trying oh so hard to muffle.

It was so unfair.

You wanted him to look at you like he does her. To experience the feeling of being wrapped in his arms, to feel his loving gaze.

But that would never happen.

There wasn't much point in staying there anymore- you refused to leave your room unless it was to quickly run to the bathroom, refused to even leave your bed unless it was necessary.

What was the point of staying there? Where the reminder of your unrequited love stayed?

It was raining outside, the soft pitter-patter of the rain on the window helping drown out any sounds that escaped you.

Bag in hand that was full of a few necessities and a small photo of you and Howl, you stopped to stare at Howl’s bedroom door for a minute.

Loving him hurt- but it wasn't something you regretted. If only things were different, maybe it would've been better. Such a false sense of hope.

Howl seemed happier with Sophie- even Calcifer and Markl were happier.

You weren't needed anymore.

So without a single thought, you turned on your heels and climbed out the hallway window to avoid Calcifer knowing.

Landing on the muddy ground below with a let thump, you looked at what used to be your home one last time, thoughts racing a thousand miles per second. You didn't want to stay and be reminded of how much happier everyone was without you.

So you left, the rain being your only company as you sobbed into the night.

[alastor-simp-page]

I am in Love with Charlastor

Look at these cuties walking through cannibal town arm in arm. THEY ARE SO CUTE! HE'S SUCH A GENTLEMAN! OPENING THE DOOR FOR HER!! AHAHAHAHHAA

No kidding. You know what I'm done dancing around the daunting Charlastor ship. I'm just gonna do it.

Shoot me some prompts if you would like. But I'm gonna do it. I'm gonna write it. It might be terrible BUT LETS DO IT! Starting with one-shots first, ha. I'm not that confident to plunge headfirst into a Charlastor fic YET.

I don't know why I love Charlastor. I think I love it more than RadioApple. It just has that exciting feeling to it. Two people on opposite sides of everything: the pessimist and the optimist (Obviously Charlie). The one who wouldn't hurt a fly and the one who would kill someone if they looked at them the wrong way. Charlie's smiles are sincere and she wears them all the time. Alastor's smiles are a way to deceive his enemies and he wears them all the time. The absolute sweetheart and the tall dark brooding psychotic gentleman. And for some reason they look so DAMN GOOD TOGETHER! And the ship is even more spicy because Lucifer despises Alastor.

I am not ashamed to admit it: I love the dramatics. Charlie and Alastor are meant for the stage. Why not have their lives together be a twisting turning show? (I do not want this in real life) ITS ROMANCE! GIVE ME THE DRAMA! GIVE ME THE ANGST!

Okay one more gif:

Side note its random but Its Always Sunny in Philadelphia is a FIRE SHOW! Oh ha I just realized Charlie is in this gif too. SEE CHARLIE SUPPORTS ME! CHARLIE MORNINGSTAR (Not Charlie Kelly) BELONGS WITH ALASTOR!

Damn it, I'm yapping on tumblr when I should be writing.

[solarisstyles]

AT THE COUNTRY CLUB

Pairing: Golfer!Harry Styles x BarCart!F!Reader Word Count: 3.6k+ Warnings: fluff, teasing, public sex, protected sex(wrap it before you tap it!), smut, mentions of drinking and alcohol, 18+ MINORS DNI Summary: Harry likes to golf and you. A/N: none!

Out of all the jobs you’ve had, working as a bar cart girl at a high class country club was probably your favorite. All you did was drive around the course all day and sell old men alcohol. The tips were amazing despite the occasional creep you’d run into. Smoothing out your golf skirt and shirt in the locker room, you made your way out to the cart house to get the golf cart you’d use for the day. Checking over everything to make sure you were well stocked up, you began your rounds on the course.

“Good morning Mr.Anderson!” you called out to one of your weekly regulars. “You’re my first stop today. Can I get you anything?” you asked. 

Looking up from his golf clubs, he beamed at you, “Ah, good morning dear! I’ll take some water for now. Catch me in a few holes and I might be ready for some liquor.”. 

“Coming right up.” you said, stepping out of your seat and going to your cooler to grab a bottle of water. “Would you like it in a cup with ice or just a bottle?”

“A cup with ice please.” he politely said, approaching you and handing you some cash “There’s a tip in there as well.”. He was always looking out for you on the course so you genuinely appreciated his kindness, 

“You know you don’t have to tip me for water.” you playfully scolded him, taking the money and tucking it away in the fanny pack you wore around your waist. 

“I know. But you’re my favorite cart girl so I’m gonna take care of you.”, taking the cup from your hand, he held it up to you and smiled, “See you in a little while kid.”. Shaking your head with a smile of your own you got back in the cart and continued your way around the course. It was early so you didn’t get a lot of hits the first time around. The second time you made your rounds however, it was after lunch time and a lot busier.

Pulling up to some carts, you recognized the club bag as another regular of yours. You noticed he had a guest with him today which was always a nice surprise. “Hey Carter!” you called to him as he was picking out his club, giving him a flirty wave. 

Looking up to see who called him, his eyes found you and smirked, “Hey yourself.” he replied, walking over to you. 

“Can I get you and your friend anything?” you asked. 

“I’ll have my usual.”, “Hey Harry! Do you want anything from the bar cart?” he called to his friend who’d just teed off. 

You couldn’t help but admire him as he walked over to the two of you. You were thankful for your sunglasses or it would be painfully obvious that you were undressing him with your eyes. His tall, lean, but muscular build was exactly your type.

Harry was drinking in the sight of you just the same. Thankful for his own pair of sunglasses, he just hoped his attraction was obvious….elsewhere. “What does the lady suggest?” he asked you, a soft smirk on his face. 

“Our vodka sodas are the most popular drink I sell.” you informed him, standing from your seat to start making Carter’s drink for him while Harry decides on his own. 

Harry nodded thoughtfully at the suggestion, “What flavors do you have?” he asked. 

“Pineapple, Grapefruit, Black Cherry, and Watermelon.”

“Which one is your favorite?” he then asked, catching you off guard. 

You didn’t typically have men so invested in their drink orders. “Pineapple or Watermelon.” you replied, handing Carter his drink. 

“I’ll try the Watermelon then.” he decided. 

Reaching for the drink in your cooler, you popped open the can for him and handed it to him. “Anything else gentlemen?” you asked, looking between the two of them. Carter and Harry looked at each other, having a silent conversation. 

“I think we’re good for now.” Carter said, pulling out his wallet and handing you his card, “Start a tab for me and put Harry’s drink on it.”. Taking his card and swiping it though your mobile card reader, you set up his tab, adding on the two drinks by his request. 

“All set up.” you said, handing his card back to him with a smile. “Enjoy your time out here. Maybe I’ll catch you guys again later.”. 

“I sure hope so.” Harry said, smirking at your now flushed cheeks. 

You couldn’t help but giggle, “It was lovely meeting you Harry. Have Carter bring you around more.” you teased, getting back into your cart. 

“Only if you let me try the Pineapple flavor next time.” he teased you. 

“I’ll make sure to have some just for you.” you teased back, blowing him a kiss as you drove away.

You sadly didn’t get to see Carter and Harry again that day. But as you walked through the bar room of the club house, the house bartender called out to you, “This was left here for you.” he said with a smirk on his face. Taking the wad of twenties from him, you opened it to see a small piece of paper with a phone number on it, and Harry’s name scribbled beneath it. Rolling your eyes, you thanked the bartender and went to clock out for the evening. You thought about the phone number the whole way home, wondering if you should actually text him. You’ve never reciprocated anyone’s advancements towards you at the club house. But damn, was he fine. Collecting yourself you decided to play the long haul and not think with your imaginary dick. If he comes back again, you’ll consider giving it a try. You had to make him work for it somehow.

A week later, you were working inside at the actual bar instead of running the cart like normal. When you saw Carter walk in, you were excited, hoping to see Harry in tow. Your disappointment must have been evident on your face though when you realized he was there on his own. 

“Damn don’t look too excited.” he said, sitting in front of you on a bar stool, crossing his arms. 

You looked down bashfully, “Sorry Carter. I am excited to see you, I promise.” you apologized, looking up at him and batting your lashes. 

He laughed, “You’re full of shit.” he called out, making you laugh with him, a soft blush dusting your cheeks. 

“Your usual?” you assumed, already moving to make his drink. 

“You know it.” he said, leaning against the bar. He watched as you made his drink, your body working on autopilot as you mixed the liquors together with the mixer and set it in front of him, 

“Running a tab today?” you asked. 

“No, I actually stopped by to play matchmaker.” he said, sliding some cash over to you and taking a sip of his drink. 

Taking the cash over to the drawer, you looked back at him and raised an eyebrow in his direction. “With who?” you asked curiously, as you brought back his change. 

“Keep it.” he waved your hand away. “And to answer your question, it’s you and Harry.” he smugly said, making you stop in your tracks and stare him down. 

“What?” you asked, trying to play dumb. 

He rolled his eyes, “Oh come on! A blind man could see the chemistry between the two of you last week.” he exclaimed, gesturing his hands outward in an ‘it’s so obvious’ motion. 

“Yeah? Then where is he today?” you countered, putting your hand on your hip. 

“With his bandmates in the studio.” he informed you, raising an eyebrow at you as if daring you to challenge him. 

“Oh…” you mumbled, unsure what to say next. 

“Listen, I know you get plenty of offers from men here but Harry is a genuinely good guy. Give him a chance.” he pleaded. 

“Did he put you up to this?” you questioned, feeling suspicious. 

“Not at all. He doesn’t even know I came to talk to you.” Carter assured you. 

“He did leave me his number at the bar last week. I guess if you’re so sure about this I’ll text him.” you caved, feeling weak under the peer pressure of what you were fighting so hard to avoid. 

“Really?” he asked, his eyes wide and hopeful looking. 

“Yes, and ONLY because I’ve known you for years now and I trust your judgment.” you clarified.

Staying true to your word, you sent Harry a text later that night after your shift. You were glad he took it so well that you waited a week to text him. Texts quickly turned into facetime calls and daily good morning texts. It truly floored you how easy Harry was to talk to. It was truly effortless on both sides. The more you both talked and the more comfortable you got with one another, the more you both would start to flirt with each other. 

“So, when am I going to see you again?” you asked one night as you facetimed each other. 

“You miss me or something?” he playfully asked, smirking at you through the phone screen. 

You bit your lip, admiring his exposed biceps, the tank top he wore leaving little to the imagination and it drove you wild. “Maybe.” you answered, making him smirk. 

“I was planning on coming with Carter this weekend to the club house. Are you working then?” he asked. 

You felt your excitement peak some at the prospect of seeing him again, “Yes, I am actually. I’ll be running the cart like normal.” you said with a bright smile. 

He smiled back at you, flicking off the light to his bedroom and flopping down onto this bed, “Good, I expect the best of the best service then.” he playfully said. 

You giggled softly, “I’ll drive right past you don’t tempt me.” The challenging but teasing undertone of your voice had him laughing too. 

“I’ll leave a Yelp review,” he decided to challenge you back. 

You gasped, holding your hand over your chest dramatically, “Not the yelp review! What do I have to do to make it up to you?”

“A kiss would make up for it.” he boldly suggested. 

You raised an eyebrow at him, “I think I could manage that.” you both smile bashfully at each other. So far the conversation has been kept innocent between the two of you. Now it was turned up to another level and it made your heart race with anticipation.

The following days leading up to you seeing Harry again, the sexual tension between the two of you could be cut with a knife. Your replies to his innocent good morning texts were now photos of you posed suggestively in front of your mirror in your work outfit. The day he was meant to come to the course, you wore his favorite outfit, it was blue and the top was a little extra tight on you. It was guaranteed to drive him crazy and the thought of teasing him excited you. 

Harry had texted you and let you know that he wouldn’t be there till later in the afternoon, so the morning felt like it was dragging. 

You were on your fourth round around the course when you finally saw Harry and Carter. “About time y’all showed up!” you called out to them.

Harry beamed a bright smile at you, jogging up to you to pick you up and spin you around, making you squeal out a laugh. 

Once he steadied you on your feet you smiled up at him, “What can I get you to drink?” you asked. 

“Are you on the menu?” Harry flirted, his hands rubbing your sides softly. Your outfit choice was clearly having the desired effect on him, making you mentally high five yourself. 

“Not while I’m on the clock.” you winked, swatting at his chest playfully. 

He smirked, “I’ll try that Pineapple Vodka Soda then.” letting you go to get his drink. 

Carter stood back and watched the two of you fondly, “I’m right here you know.” he said. 

“I’m aware.” you teased, handing Harry his opened drink. “Would you like anything dear?” you teased, batting your lashes playfully. 

Carter rolled his eyes, handing you some cash, “Get me my usual you twat.”. 

You laughed, taking the money and putting it in your pouch before making his drink. “You guys gonna hang out for a while? I get off at five and I can join you at the bar.”

“I won’t, but Mr.Styles here will.” Carter teased, punching Harry in the arm. 

Harry rolled his eyes, “Yeah I’ll hang out.” he smiled at you. 

“Cool, see you then.” you said, giving them a small wave before continuing your drive around the course.

There were more golfers than normal out on the course this afternoon, and any other day you would be thankful since you were getting great tips. The burning desire to be back with Harry was making you antsy though. When you finally made it back to the clubhouse, you parked your cart and sighed, resting your head on the steering wheel for a moment. You loved your job but it could really be draining sometimes. 

Taking a deep breath, you got up and started to break down the cart, taking the extra drinks and liquor into the walk-in fridge behind the bar. Looking up at the clock in the back area, you were thrilled to see you only had five minutes left before you clocked out for the day. 

Making your way over to the locker rooms, you gathered your stuff and clocked out on the computer. Heading over to the bar where you would find Harry. He was exactly where you thought he would be, in one of the lounge chairs by the giant fireplace. Biting back the giddy smile you wanted to show, you admired how handsome he looked sitting there with a glass of whiskey in his left hand. Making your way over to him, your eyes admired the sharp outline of his jaw, the shape of his nose, his long lashes fanning against his cheeks as he blinked. He looked like a Greek God. “This seat taken?” you teasingly asked him, in reference to his lap. 

He chuckled, uncrossing his legs as a silent invite, “I reserved it just for you.” he said back, matching your flirty energy. 

A soft blush dusted your cheeks, sitting gently on his lap, his arm wrapping around your waist and pulling you closer. 

“So, did you like the drink earlier?” you asked him. 

He nodded, taking another sip of his whiskey, “I thought it was delicious. It’s perfect for being out on the course.” His praise made your heart flutter. Knowing he was pleased with your suggestion made you want to please him even more. 

His fingers slowly dragged up and down your side, “Did you wear this just for me today? I remember telling you it was one of my favorites.” His eyes raked up and down your body, admiring the way your skirt rose up to reveal more of your thighs when you sat down, your tits pressed together more in your sitting position causing more of your cleavage to show thanks to the low cut of the top. 

“Maybe.” you suggested, winking at him. 

“You’re a tease. You know that?” he called you out, looking back up into your eyes. 

You couldn’t help but giggle, leaning closer to him, “I don’t think you mind though.” you whispered, wiggling your hips down into his crotch, which was slowly stiffening beneath you. “In fact I think you like it.” you in turn called him out. Looking back into his eyes, you watched in satisfaction as his eyes flickered from your lips back to your eyes. “What’s wrong? Cat got your tongue?” you teased, his silence loudly telling you the effect you had on him.

Setting down his drink on a side table, his hand found its place on your thigh, rubbing it softly. He smirked at your remark, shaking his head a little. “Just thinking about how the bar tender over there would love to have me bend your over this chair and fuck you in front of him.” he softly spoke, making your breathing stop for a second. 

You could suddenly feel the burning stare of another set of eyes, so caught up in Harry that you didn’t even notice. 

“Lucky for you, I don’t like to share. So, why don’t we go somewhere more private.” he suggested. 

You were all too eager to oblige, giving him a small nod and standing from his lap, offering your hand out to him. Taking your hand in his own, he stood up and let you lead him out of the bar, much to the disappointment of your co-worker.

You walked to the far side of the clubhouse you knew people were less likely to be at this time of the day, pushing open the door to one of the family restrooms, you pulled Harry inside with you, closing and locking the door quickly. 

Just as fast, Harry spun you around and pressed you back against the door, holding your waist tightly. He pressed his forehead to yours, bumping his nose against your own. You could feel the warm breath from his lips against your own, driving you crazy. 

“Kiss me.” you said with a desperate feel behind the request, almost whining into his mouth. 

It was the green light he needed to go forward. Pressing his lips softly to your own at first, the kisses that followed growing more heated and desperate. His hands slid down your waist, around to your ass, groping you through your skirt. Your jaw went slack, moaning softly. Taking that as his opportunity to lick into your mouth, coaxing your tongue to lick into his own. You were enjoying this silent battle for dominance but you could slowly feel yourself losing. Your body becoming putty in his strong hands. 

He bent down slightly, grasping your thighs and lifting you up. Wrapping your legs around his waist on instinct, he carried you over to the sink, sitting you down on the counter. Pulling away from your lips briefly, he had to ask, “How far do you want this to go?” praying you were both on the same page. 

Smirking, you reached within your shirt and pulled out a square foil packet. He couldn’t contain his laughter, pressing his lips to yours once more and taking the condom from you. 

Clothes were quickly discarded, both of you far too worked up to bother with any more foreplay. Both of you knew this would have to be quicker than you’d really like it to be out of fear of somebody catching you. The thought of being caught made it much more exciting though.

Tearing open the condom with his teeth, Harry was a man on a mission, rolling the rubber onto his hard cock. Pulling your hips to the edge of the counter, he positioned himself, gliding the tip of his cock between your wet folds. “Who got you this wet baby girl?” he teased, admiring the way his cock was lubricated even more with your arousal. 

“Fuck, you Harry.” you whimpered, your eyes fluttering at the sensation. 

Satisfied with your reply, he gently thrusted into you, making you gasp out and groan softly. His face fell into the crook of your neck, setting a gentle pace thrusting in and out of you, “Fuck you feel so good wrapped around my cock.” he breathed out, kissing your neck, up to your jaw till he eventually found your lips against his own again. 

Moaning softly into the kiss, along with softly whimpering for him, his pace quickened. Reaching between your bodies, your fingers rubbed quickly against your clit, pushing you closer to your peak. “Don’t stop Harry please!” you begged in a hushed whisper against his lips. 

“Mmm I won’t baby. Gonna make that pretty pussy cum for me if it’s the last. Thing. I. Do.” he thrusted deep into you to enunciate the last four words he spoke. 

You gasped, throwing your head back and biting your lip to desperately try and stay quiet. 

His lips once again kissed at your neck, trailing wet kisses down to your chest and sucking on your tits. Taking your nipple into his warm wet mouth, his tongue dancing in circles around your hardened nub.

Your chest was heaving, dangerously close to cumming. He could feel it with the way your pussy contracted round him, squeezing his cock tightly each time he thrusted deep into you. His hips slapping against your own each time he bottomed out inside of you. He grunted against your hot skin, “I’m so close baby.” he panted, eyes screwed shut in ecstasy. “Cum on my cock. Please baby girl.” he begged, wanting so bad to watch you come undone under his touch. 

“Oh, fuck Harry!” you gasped, a particularly sharp thrust into your g-spot sent you spiraling. You fought hard to control the volume of your moans as he fucked you through your orgasm. Finding it hard to not scream out his name. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” he grunted, the pulsing of your pussy as you orgasmed coaxed him to his own. Spilling into the condom, letting you milk him dry as you contracted around him.

Your hand rested on the back of his head as he laid it against your neck. The both of you had love sick smiles on your faces as you battled to catch your breaths, coming down from the high you both were feeling. “Round two at my place?” you offered, making him laugh,

“I like the sound of that.”

[hearts-hunger]

a cowgirl's dream || danny wagner x reader

Read on AO3 | Masterlist

Summary: You show Danny just how much you like his new cowboy hat. | Standalone in the Four Weddings universe

Pairings: Danny x Reader | Genres: porn without plot (minors begone!), fluff | Word Count: 2.3k | Warnings: unprotected piv, oral (f receiving), fingering, dirty talk, a little bit of soft dom!Danny, sorry babe the cowboy hat stays on during sex

A/N: I feel like I ought to be ashamed of this slightly but I am 100% not. Cowboy hat Danny has me in a chokehold. Enjoy the product of my delusions besties!!! ♡

“Danny!”

You boyfriend looked over at your voice as he came off stage, searching around the dim backstage area until he caught sight of you. A handsome grin lit his face when he did, and he wove through people and equipment until he got to you.

“Sunny!” he said. “How was the — ?”

He didn’t get a chance to finish his question, but he didn’t seem to mind that you’d cut him off as he eagerly leaned into the kiss you gave him. You stood on tiptoe and put your arms around his neck, and he leaned close to make it a little easier for you.

“Well, hello to you too,” he said when you let him come up for air. His cheeks were flushed and he gave you a beaming grin, thrilled at your eager attention.

“To what do I owe this warm welcome?” he teased, holding you close with a big hand splayed over the small of your back. 

You looked up at him dreamily, letting yourself enjoy a moment to take him in with all his post-show confidence and joy. He was shirtless and his skin was almost hot to the touch, damp with sweat and heady with the scent of his cologne; the little gold necklace he’d borrowed from you forever ago rested just above the hollows of his collar.

By far the most alluring part, though, was the sparkly silver cowboy hat atop his crown of curls. You were a little embarrassed to say so, but when he’d put it on during the last song, you’d gone completely crazy for it. Between the hat and the way he’d grinned and laughed at wearing it, you decided you couldn’t go one more minute without having him.

“Danny, I...” You bit your lip and ran you hands over his bare shoulders. “I need you.”

His smile turned a little crooked. “Is that so, sweet girl?”

The pet name sent a shiver through you, and he pulled you close when he felt it.

“Let’s get you what you need, then, huh?” he asked. 

You could only nod, utterly entranced by him, so in love with him and feeling a little dizzy at the effortless way he took control once you admitted what you wanted. You gave a hasty goodbye to the guys and spent the ride to the hotel being fidgety, breathless and blushing when Danny teased you with a hand on your thigh.

Up in your room, you practically threw yourself at him, and he was content to let you have your way with him for a few minutes. He tried to undress you, but you made it a little difficult as you didn’t want to be distracted from kissing him; he promised you as many kisses as you wanted when you were naked, and you let him undress you before he stripped to his boxers. He scooped you up and held you as you wrapped your legs around his waist, tilting his head back to give you better access as you kissed all over his face and neck.

“Sunny, sweetheart,” he said affectionately. “What’s got you in such a mood?”

“You’re complaining?” you teased.

He chuckled. “Of course not,” he said. “But I’m just wondering if there’s something special about tonight that’s got you so flustered.”

“Just you,” you said, and it was almost the truth. Danny drove you wild no matter what, but the more you kissed him in that hat, the more you wanted him to keep it on.

“Suits me,” he said, and he walked you to the bed and laid you back on it. You looked up at him and liked that he gave you a moment to just look at him, a crooked, self-satisfied smile tipping up the corner of his mouth as you did.

“Like what you see, sunny?” he asked.

Your breath caught. “You have no idea.”

He smirked and moved to hover over you, trailing kisses all down your body, telling you in his low voice how pretty you looked, how sweet and warm and lovely you were. You ran your hands all over him, loving the feel of his warm, tanned skin under your fingers.

“I love you,” you said.

He kissed the crest of your hip. “I love you too, sweetheart.”

He moved his kissed lower, kneeling at the edge of the bed and pulling you to him. You sucked in a breath when he pressed a kiss to the inside of your thigh.

“Danny, please,” you said.

You felt his smile against your skin. “Patience, baby. Be a good girl for me.”

You wanted to squeeze your legs together, needing friction, and he only chuckled.

“You like it when I tell you to be a good girl?” he said in a velvet voice. When you didn’t answer, he pulled your thigh to rest over his shoulder and turned his head to kiss it, the bridge of his nose nudging against you as he breathed you in.

“Answer me, pretty girl,” he said. “Do you like it when I tell you to behave?”

You took a shaky breath. “Yes, Danny.”

He nipped at your sensitive skin. “That’s my sweet girl. Now tell me something else — do you want me to eat you out?”

“Yes, please,” you all but whined. His teasing was agonizing, but you were so wet for him, and he’d barely touched you.

“Well, since you asked so nicely.” He reached to take his hat off, and you couldn’t stop yourself from blurting out what you’d been trying to keep a secret.

“Wait!”

He frowned a little as he looked up at you. “What’s wrong?”

You blushed vividly. “Um, I... uh....” You couldn’t bring yourself to say it, and he watched your face with a touch of worry.

“What is it, baby?” he asked, gentle and patient as he tried to set things right. “You change your mind? It’s okay if you did.”

You shook your head. “Um, no, I just...” You felt your face get hotter. “Oh, this is so embarrassing, but... can you keep the hat on?”

His expression changed from worry to confusion, and then from confusion to amusement.

“Are you serious?” he asked.

“Um... yes?” you said in a small voice.

He grinned. “The hat is what’s doing it for you, huh?” He laughed. “Okay, baby. I’ll keep the hat on.”

You couldn’t bring yourself to be too worried about how silly it was to want him to keep it on, not when he set in on you with such enthusiasm and skill. He made sinful groaning noises in his throat as he licked and sucked and kissed, curling two fingers inside you as he buried his face between your thighs.

“Oh god, oh god — ” You moaned when he pressed your hips down and kept at you as you came. “Yes, Danny, yes, holy fuck .”

When he’d left you a mess beneath him, he looked up at you from under the brim of that stupid disco cowboy hat and gave you a cocky grin.

“Damn, honey. I guess you really do like the hat.”

You groaned and flopped back on the pillow. “Shut up.”

He laughed and pressed a few sloppy kisses to your thighs before he straightened and made quick work of his boxers. “Don’t be embarrassed, sweetheart.”

“You don’t think it’s stupid?”

“No way,” he said, running his hands over your thighs and hips and tummy, soothing you as he always did before he moved on to whatever he had in mind for the next act. 

He looked up at you. “Is this a good time to mention that I want you to wear a Santa hat every time we fuck in December?”

You half-laughed, half-groaned as you felt your face heat, and you hid behind your hands as he gave a warm, affectionate laugh.

“I’m sorry, honey,” he said, and you heard the smile in his voice. He moved onto the bed with you and gently moved your hands so he could kiss all over your blushed face. “I shouldn’t tease. I think it’s cute that it gets you all hot and bothered.”

“You promise?”

“I promise,” he said sweetly. His fingers traced between your legs, and you felt a fizzle of excitement and anticipation at the way he shifted his attention and his posture back to the task at hand. “I’ll keep it on while I fuck you, if you want.”

“Okay,” you said, still a little embarrassed by how much you liked it.

He smiled, flashing his little fangs as he put his hands on your hips. “Atta girl.”

He teased you for a minute, working you up again, his touch just light enough to drive you crazy.

“God, I could just eat you out all night,” he said with a reverent touch of the pad of his thumb to your clit. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you, honey? You want me to eat your pussy until you cry?”

You gave a breathy little groan at the thought, knowing from experience that he could deliver if you said that's what you wanted. He used his free hand to press your thigh back down when you tried to squeeze your legs around his arm.

“Uh-uh, baby,” he said sweetly. “Let me see that pretty thing all wet for me.”

You wriggled under him. “Danny, please, I’m gonna cum again if you don’t stop.”

He hummed. “Well, I guess I won’t stop then.”

He rubbed fast circles exactly where you wanted them, and in a matter of seconds, you were dissolved under him again. He tipped his hat back before he leaned close and kissed love marks against your neck, and you gasped when you felt his cock against you.

“Get inside me,” you breathed.

He chuckled. “Bossy, aren’t you?”

“Please,” you begged. “I need you, Danny.”

“I know,” he said, saccharine sweet around the dizzying hint of condescension in his voice. “Poor thing. You need my cock to fill you up, don’t you, sweet girl?”

You could only nod, rendered speechless by the way he talked to you. Danny was usually so gentle and sweet, and you loved him that way, but the confidence and cockiness that radiated from him in the post-show haze always drove you crazy.

“You know how much I like to make love to you,” he said, splaying his fingers over your thighs as he pushed them apart. “All slow and sweet for my pretty girl.”

“Danny,” you whined. You’d take him any way you could, but you weren’t sure slow and sweet was exactly what you wanted this time.

He looked at you from under his lashes and smirked. “I like it when you beg for me, baby.”

He gripped your hips and ran his cock between your legs; you tried to focus, watching the way his thin gold necklace caught the dim light.

“I could make it nice and slow,” he said, “but I think we need something a little more — mmfh.” 

Both of you groaned when he buried himself to the hilt. 

“More athletic,” he said, a little breathless. “What do you think, honey?”

“Just fuck me,” you whimpered.

He flashed you a wicked grin. “Whatever you say, sweetheart.”

You couldn’t have stopped the moan that tumbled from you as he started to drive into you, setting a hard, steady pace as his hips snapped against yours. You touched every part of him you could reach, gripping his arms, chanting his name, totally at the mercy of his strength and stamina.

“Holy fuck, Danny,” you managed, digging your nails into his shoulders, delirious with the feel of him inside and out. 

“God, baby, you feel so good,” he praised. His makeup was smudged and a few curls were plastered to his face with sweat. “So good for me, honey.”

“I’m gonna — oh, fuck —” You couldn’t even get the words out before you were cumming again, and he groaned with pleasure as you squeezed around him.

“Jesus,” he breathed. “Hold on.”

With practiced skill, he moved so you were on top; you whined at the delicious oversensitivity and the way his arms went around you to get you where he wanted you. You braced your hands against his chest and tried to catch your breath as you felt him inside you at this new angle.

“Save a horse, ride a cowboy, huh?” you laughed, breathless.

He grinned. “Something like that.” He took the hat from his head and put it on you, albeit a little crookedly. “Here.”

You straightened it and looked down at him with a teasing smile. “How does it look?”

He gave a low whistle. “You know, honey, I think I get why you like it so much.”

You giggled and leaned close, and he propped himself up to hold you to him as he gave you hungry, breath-stealing kisses.

“Get to it, cowgirl,” he said with a smirk.

You swiveled your hips and loved the way his breath caught. “Maybe you ought to mind your manners, cowboy.”

You gave him one last kiss and pushed him back onto the pillows, and he looked up at you with nothing short of adoration and dizzying desire. You started to move, taking your time now that you were the one holding the power, and he gave a little whine as his Adam’s apple bobbed.

“Holy lord,” he said pitifully. “Uh, honey, I think I overestimated how cool I could be about this.”

You gave a sweet laugh, endeared by his honesty and his obvious desire for you. You kissed his neck and under his jaw.

“I don’t mind,” you said. “Cum for me when you need to, baby.”

He swore under his breath and gripped your hips hard enough to leave bruises as you worked him up to his high. He brought you back down on him, hard, and you threw your head back.

“Fuck, Danny,” you gasped.

“I’m so close, baby,” he panted. “Cum with me.”

He moved his hand between you, and you saw stars as you came with him inside you. He followed right after, groaning and pulling you close to him until both of you were spent.

You both took a second to catch your breath, and he tipped your hat back so he could give you a good, long kiss.

“Thank you,” he said breathlessly, holding you close to him.

You twirled his soft curls around your fingers. “My pleasure. I love you, Danny.”

“I love you too, sunshine.” He kissed your neck, his strong arms wrapped around you, his nose bumping against your jaw in a familiar touch that made you smile.

“You know what?” he asked.

“Hm?”

“I think the hat needs a permanent place in our toy box.”

You laughed and pressed close to him, feeling his smile when you kissed him. “Suits me, cowboy.”

danny taglist:@tearsofbri@busybeingtrash@myway-late@gotavansleep@gretavanbri@stardustchxrds@pxppylove @mariegvf @bajabule69 @radmads-gvf@sunnykiszka@audgeppp

gvf taglist:@malany-gvf@spark-my-nature@eearevee@madneedshelp@demonrat444@josh-iamyour-mama @honeyandsweettae @mydarlingdanny@gretavandann@sacredjake@myleftsock@joshskittytickler21@hellowgoodbye@watchingovergvf2@fearfulspirit@mywaysoon@carbondancingthroughtime@caprisunsister @eraofstardustchords @sacredthefran@shesawomaninadream @serendipiti @demonrat444@wildflowerxx-x @tearsofdanny

@gvfrry@ohhey1293@the-chaotic-cow@mountain-in-springtime@xserenax-13@stardustjtk @brooke-gvf@weightofdreams-gvf@jakeydoesit@gretasmokerising@hayley1623@doodle417@finestoflines@brokenbellz@bowievanfleet@s0livagant@strugglingtodoshit@s-u-t@kay-jordan@gretavanfleas@jakeyboiiiiiii@gretavansteph@gretavanbitches@myownparadise96@luverleaver@weightofdreamz@greatervanfleet@maedesculpaeusoubi@jakekiszkasbestie@pineapple-photographer@baguettejuliette@alexxavicry@levi-wants-ur-bones@carlybubs@cowboysamkiszka@dannyandthekiszkas@jordierama@slutforsteve@starshine-wagner@quartzzzzzzz@edgeofdreams@writingcold @lostoverseer @catharu77 @mackalah@jaketlove @haileygvf @blacksoul-27 @ur-m0ms-blog

sorry if tumblr didn’t tag you — it’s stupid sometimes. but i’m real thankful for you, sweet peaches! and if you’re a new bestie and would like to be added to my taglist, check out the form right here! ♡

[zedrine]

hi, it's the anon who first requested that sunny reverse comfort! .. i have come back again..!!!!

can i request for a sunny from omori x reader doing pocky game (established relationship!!)

can be post game if you'd like! thank youuu <3

Z.2 — pocky game w/ sunny >:D

PAIRINGS : SUNNY x Reader

WARNINGS : none!! :D

DESC : mentioned at the top! <3

NOTES : ENDJGJENSBCBFKE HI AGAINNNN

You popped into the room, jolly as you held a Pocky box behind your back, “Suuunnnn?~”

He sighed — “Yes?” — he shot up a glare at you, frowning, he was busy writing down his essay for school.

“Can we.. play a game, please?” You softly grinned, hoping he’d get off that paper he’s been working on for, I don’t know, maybe two hours?

Sighing once more, SUNNY responded, with frustration, “Fine.”

“Oh–” you didn’t quite think he’d agree so quickly.

Both of you then sat on the couch as you revealed the Pocky box — “Oh, God,” he rolled his eyes, “Kel, right?”

You smirked as if you were a Kel dupe, “Yes, he told me to do it with you,” you nudged his shoulder jokingly as you opened the box, then the packaging, “he told me you’d enjoy the game!”

“I don’t like that [favorite flavor] one,” he blandly stated, quite cruel and direct if you asked me. “Oh, hush!” You took a Pocky stick out; you would get the flavor part and he the bread.

“So…?” he looked at you, begging for instructions of the game with his eyes.

“Okay, so—” that’s a lot of so’s, “—both of us have to slowly bite our way through the Pocky, but, whoever accidentally bites the Pocky off or gets to the middle first, loses.”

“What if we kiss?” he asked; you stayed silent.

You tried your best to suppress a smirk, grin, smile. How could one be so naïve?

“Anyway,” you said — a chuckle let out — as you pointed the Pocky between your mouth and his, again, you had the flavor part, “good game.”

The game started; both of you started nibbling on the Pocky, you looked up at him, but he only looked at his distance in the Pocky.

Then, it broke!

“Dang it– YOU did that!” You pointed at SUNNY, who stared blankly at you, “No,” he mumbled.

“Ugh,” you rolled your eyes, “whatever.” You took another Pocky stick, this time, cruelly and tauntingly, he had the flavor; “You must hate me, don’t you?”

“Hush,” you aligned the stick again, then the game began again. Nibble, nibble, both of you were close to the middle, then–

In just a mere moment, the stick disappeared — you were kissing him!

The kiss, surprisingly (as you thought he’d pull away immediately), lasted for long… long… and long…

“Pweh!” he exclaimed — ouch — as you retorted, “Uhm, excuse me??” Offended you were, how could he say that, to your perfectly lip-glossed lips? :(

“Sorry, sorry,” he wiped his lips, “the Pocky flavor—” but only because his saliva slightly dripped out from his cough, “—I don’t like it, I told you.”

You sighed; well, at least he was honest, “Yeah, whatever.”

You took another Pocky stick; he had the bread part.

Game started, nibbling, the room was quiet. Cold.

But, as an apology, he nibbled quite faster, so he got to the middle first to lose, willingly — “Haha!” you chortled triumphly; he smiled, a rare sight, but you failed to notice.

“I’m good at this game~!” You proudly reveled, reaching down for another stick, but, just then, his hand held yours (the hand you’re using to get the sticks, by the way.)

“Hm?–”

You looked up, but then he leaned in, much further than he planned to; kiss count, number two.

But this time, it was shorter, yet more passionate that the previous one — heartfelt, or maybe it was because he was the one who initiated it?

Nevertheless, he felt, quite strange too. Dear Sister, please help… he prayed in his head, help, help help!!!!

Blood came rushing to your cheeks — mostly his, though, he kept his head down — “Sunn?”

He breathed shallowly, Crap, he thought, “Y-Yeah?”

He kept his head down, his dandruff was showing — no, no, just kidding — embarrassed by what he’d done. You were still in shock from the sudden kiss, that you accidentally stayed silent.

“S-Sorry,” again, he apologized, thinking he caused the tension in the air. (Man, I just wanna hug him so badly)

You exhaled through your nose in relief, “Heyy,” you lifted up his chin, but he averted eye contact, “it’s okay, I’m sorry…”

You cupped his cheeks, then gave him quick, big pecks everywhere on his face, to his dismay, he kept yelling; “Stop!–” mwah, “–you taste like–” mwah, “[the flavor of the Pocky]!!” mwah.

You then stopped the kissing, pouting, “Oh, so you don’t like my kisses?” still cupping his cheeks as you stared right into his soul.

“No, no, I didn’t mean that…” He murmured, leaning into your palms, and caressing the back of them. Still avoiding looking in your eyes, though, even after all those verbs.

Softly, you kissed his forehead, “I love you too~”

He responded to that, but only I knew — “I love you more,” he whispered, or mouthed, but you didn’t hear.

JANXBDJAKSJDRNNDD im soooo sorry if this is so sloppy SNXNFNDND ITS LIKE 11PM HERE ND I AHVE SCJOOL TOMORROW😭😭😭 i RLLY RRLYYY hope u like this one☹️💔

[rafesweetie]

okay now we’ve read the sunny x race fic… let’s talk about sunny x pope hmm…

⋆˚࿔ sweetener ꥟ ˚⋆ — pope heyward x sunny!reader

“ you come through like the sweetener you are, bring the bitter taste to a halt, then you… “

cw ; smut (implied but not detailed whatsoever), instinuations of public sex on the beach. not proofread!

pope thinks of himself as such a hypocrite. a couple years ago, he was lecturing john b about bringing in a kook to the sacrid group of pogues — and now here he was, dating you on the low.

he could never tell his friends about you. but oh how he wish he could. you’re stunning, with hair that blows so gracefully in the breeze, a smile on your lips (which are usually chapped from the sun) whenever you’re around pope. he wants to talk to his friends about you for hours, you’re so sweet. but, you’re a kook.

so pope hates to say it, but he kind of uses you to get away from his stressful life. you’re blissfully ignorant to the shit he gets up to with the pogues, happy to spend your nights and days on the beach with him, tracing his abs, sucking on his bottom lip and giggling with him, smiling a bit brighter whenever he calls you “baby.” maybe ‘uses’ is the wrong word when it comes to why on earth pope spends with you, a kook, but moreso a distraction from his life.

pope had texted you half an hour ago to meet him by the beach beside the marina. no doubt he’d had a rough day and just needed to carress you for hours. you were looking forward to it greatly. but by the time you arrived, moonlight caressing your face, you frown because he’s no where to be seen. you’d never liked nightime as it is, preferring the sun, where you can see what’s rustling in the trees and what shadows are in front of you, and you like it even less when your favourite company isn’t with you.

you lay down a blanket on the sand and sit there for a bit. it’s 9:30 now, you got here at 9. with a huff, you text pope, saying, “hey pope im so sorry but i might have to go home soon because its late and chilly. where are you?”

you don’t get a chance to respond when you feel hands on your shoulders from, behind. with a shriek, assuming it’s a scary monster in the dark, you turn arouynd and cover your mouth to shut yourself up the minute you see its only pope.

“hi— sorry, pope, you scared me,” you say softly, patting the spot beside you on the. blanket. “what took so long?

“hey baby, sorry. here, my dad gave me some fries to give you ‘cause i was late,” he hands you the fries from his dads restuarant. “rough night,”

you’ve never really asked what’s wrong when pope is upset, but you assume what happened is worse than usual because he was late for you. so you ask, “what’s wrong?”

“long story,” he says, leaning back on his elbows. “have some fries,”

“i will after you tell me what’s up. you’re never late, always way too punctual. so, what’s up?”

“uh— i’ll put it simply, alright?” he checks and you nod, happy for anything. “my family has this hierloom, ‘s really valuable and historic, and some kook stole it from me and the pogues, and melted it down to sell,”

“oh. wow, um, im sorry pope, don’t even know what to say, that’s really tough,” you say gently, eyebrows furrowed a bit as you pop a fry into your mouth. “wanna cry?” that makes him smile a bit as he shakes his head.

“no, nah, baby. appreciate the offer though.” he smiles at you.

“then what do you need?”

“think you know,” is all he says.

everything else is a blur. tongues, limbs twisted together, little smiles. everything tonight is slow — gentle. nights like these are your absolute favourite.

“dunno what i’d do without you in my life, baby,” he whispers while he’s on top of you, slowly sliding in and out discreetly through your underwear in case someone is taking a late night walk. “it’d be so sour,”

[sunnie-angel]

thinking about a jason todd that’s in his late 30s. lines are just starting to etch themselves into the corners of his eyes and he’s got a hip that always pops when he rolls out of bed in the morning. he’s had a partner or two since his resurrection, each time promising forever and a day but never really making it there. he doesn’t look for serious anymore, grown up grown tired of always waiting on the back foot for someone that never sticks around. what’s the point of giving away his heart when it’s just going to get handed right back to him anyway? and that’s fine — he doesn’t hold it against any of them, he wouldn’t stick around for him either.

it’s frustrating then, to love him like you’ve never loved before and know he only sees you as a placeholder. the one he comes home to for now. he views himself as a season in your life, a moment that will pass and maybe you’ll remember this fondly if he doesn’t fuck up the ending too badly. you know he would accept you breaking your heart in two with tired eyes and a practiced smile, nothing but the best wishes for your future.

you tell him you love him and he accepts it with thanks and an unspoken for now. you tell him he’s it for you and he tells you sure kid, all nihilistic patronism that he’ll be seeing the back of you one day. it’s all youthful optimism and vigour to him, hasn’t stood the test of time or the first fight, the worst of an after patrol breakdown or the fear of a serious injury. you tell him you’ll always stay and he warns you that you don’t hafta make promises you won’t want to keep kid. he doesn’t understand that you want to mean it.

so you don’t promise him forever and a day. you promise him tomorrow. and tomorrow. and tomorrow. maybe one day he’ll believe you. maybe one day you won’t mean it. but the one thing you will not do is break his heart the way it’s been broken before.

might continue this if there’s interest

[i-hold-deaths-hand-in-mine]

i promise there is a really great life lesson about electronics and protecting yourself at the end of this post

today has been an extremely weird day as i attempt to finish and post the last chapter of my agathario fic, the terrors of the sea

first, i get home to find a falcon/hawk (don't roast me for not knowing the difference) standing on a ONE FOOT LONG rat (just body, not tail) whose cousin probably ended up in a subway sandwich once

don't worry, though. he let me get a cool video, stashed the rat in my driveway out of spite for me interrupting his meal, then took off with it later

then, i'm sitting on my couch after the whole bird-rat (is this the iasip ship name for dee/charlie?) debacle writing some of that fanfic, and my treadmill speakers turn on and start blasting "cheap thrills" by sia

now then - my treadmill has bluetooth speakers. okay, cool. but...it's not connected to my phone...and no one else is home...and it has never connected to a phone outside before

so now i'm almost shitting my pants listening to the audio of cheap thrills randomly cut in and out and terrify me. and what happens next?

i realize that, yes, this is most definitely someone outside who is just parked directly in front of the house, or maybe even someone breaking into the backyard again wearing headphones to hype them up for hooliganism. either way, no one's in my house, and i doubt the ghosts would start playing sia after years of being here and never playing music before

which then leads me to a spiraling moral crisis, because...shouldn't i unplug my treadmill?

this person clearly doesn't realize what's happening. what if they answer a phone call and now all of a sudden i can hear someone saying stuff under the guise of confidentiality?? what if the treadmill connects again on another day? will i just continue to listen, or unplug it and not invade someone's privacy?

or is it their fault for not paying closer attention to the bluetooth settings on their electronics and not setting a password to protect from random connections (i don't really think it's their fault, but this is a really good lesson that i've learned from this experience, so i want to share it)

needless to say, i unplugged the treadmill after bopping along to cheap thrills for a little bit

the best part is that another fanfic i'm working on involves someone having a moral crisis over potential invasion of privacy so i really feel like this experience has allowed me to better understand their feelings and i think it'll make my writing in that storyline better in that regard <3

[hyffae]

what if tubbo comes back from purgatory 2 after his birthday. what if sunny cries in his arms and then brings him to the picnic area apologising that its late. what if tubbo stares at the letters from everyone and finds one from fred. what if he sits there and silently reads them and starts crying.

[ohsunnyboy]

living wine | song eunseok ˚₊‧⁺˖

song eunseok is good at maths, a vampire or an extreme lightweight. one of those is false, and it's not the one you think it is!

TAGS: college!au, vampire!eunseok, human!reader, gn!reader, vivid descriptions of blood, veins and feeding, kissing and caressing, gets suggestive by the end!!

A/N: eunseok has such vampire-esque visuals i couldn't help myself hehe self indulgent as per usual (idk why this turned out so long i just wanted to write some hot bloodsucking)

WORDS: ~2400

"How on earth did you get all of this wrong?" You stare at the question sheet and back at his laptop. The fang about, find out! sticker on it fraying and stained with takeout. "I thought communication studies was meant to be easy?"

"It's not wrong. There's no wrong in comm studies," he groans, still rolling about the floor of your dorm like a toddler. “I swore to Sungchan this would be the last time I change my major and he's going to tear me apart if I can't ace this."

"Oh boohoo, your mysterious campus vampire aura will be ruined. What will everyone do?" you intone, rolling your eyes.

Said mysterious vampire, Song Eunseok, buries his face into your plush cushions and groans some more. Imagine communications being the biggest of your worries in the world.

As a political science major, with a minor in vampire relations, it seemed natural when you stumbled into Eunseok's friend group at a You Can Fang event at the college. A vamp and human mixer to encourage integration due to well... reasons.

Because the thing is, vamps have only been about for 30 years.

Which is a lie. Or rather, a condensation of the fact that they've been generally acceptable for 30 years. It's only now do you find tick boxes for vampires on questionnaires, 24/7 blood banks and raw blood on the a la cartes to cater to the perpetually living.

Apart from that, it's been since the dawn of time they've been kicking about, seamlessly blending into society by acting like the rest of you. As evidenced by the one stretched out like flattened dough on your plush carpet. Eunseok physically exists at 18, has the vainness of a 15-year-old but has been kicking around for 22 whole years.

Which somehow doesn't qualify him from doing college level anything even half well.

"You still there?" Eunseok’s voice is muffled from where he's face down on the carpet, that or it's his fangs digging into his lip. He’s been limp and lethargic like this for far too long.

"Yeah, yeah just baffled at what you've written," you hum.

You shift the laptop from your lap to the floor next to you, choosing to study the moping princess. Eunseok’s brown hair is almost black in the dim of your room while also sticking up everywhere from running his hand through it constantly. Even his clothes look out of it, which is a feat for someone who always aims for college campus chic. Further, while it’s traditionally vampiric to be ghastly pale – Eunseok’s always had a tan from when he was bitten at 18 that just stuck around – his skin somehow looks even worse in the lamp light.

"What's wrong, Eunseok? You've been like this all week," you sigh.

Thump-thump. The clock ticks three times; it’s nearly midnight and the full moonlight peeks through the blinds. Thump— he shifts. “It’s nothing..." Curling further up into a ball. Like you believe that, he’s a professional whiner.

"Real convincing. How about you sit up and look me in the eyes when you say that,” you quip back. With some more prodding at his head with your foot, Eunseok sits up petulant.

You take your time to look at him properly now: Eunseok’s sunken eyes and dry mouth. It makes your own lips purse in concern. It’s a far cry to what your Eunseok usually looks like however it’s all signs of what you’ve been suspecting all this time. Idiot.

"I am completely fine,” he says it with the utmost uncertainty of any college student lying through their teeth about already having started a paper that is due the next day.

"Seok... you're paler than a sheet." When you say it, his face nearly brightens up. "That’s not a compliment!" And only then does he huff out a small laugh, eyes casting to the side.

“I’m fine, promise. Just…long night?” Eunseok mutters but it comes out like a question. You know he sleeps poor in general but that’s no excuse. You pay way too much attention to him, is what some voice says at the back of your mind, but never mind that.

Maybe it’s a reassurance when he snakes a hand around your ankle, but his cold embrace only reminds you of what he is. Maybe it’ll make whatever you plan to do just a bit easier. The question’s been dancing on the tip of your tongue since the start after all.

"...When's the last time you fed?" your eyes search for his as you ask, but he seems hellbent on avoiding your gaze.

"Why? are you offering?" Eunseok snorts and you can taste the sarcasm in his tone. He shakes his head again, before finally raising his gaze to yours apologetically. "...Look this week's been so bad. All the blood banks are low, my new TA is Satan incarnate and Sungchan chipped my tooth last time I tried feeding from him so I couldn't even feed properly then.” His finger’s drum across the skin of your ankle: pinching and smoothing.

"...and then everybody's also been busy with the new semester,” you conclude.

"Exactly.”

The silence consumes the room. You’d liken it to someone taking a fluffy blanket and smothering you in it. Dying in comfort and screaming in silence.

The sensation of Eunseok’s fingers on your skin is what grounds you. Pinch and soothe, thump-thump, pinch and smooth, thump-thump. Goosebumps have started to rise up your leg as you watch his movement. Thump-thump, pinch and smooth. You’ve grown used to his cold whenever you press against each other, even when he tries to stay away. Despite it, your heart races all the same.

Thump-thump, pinch and smooth.

The carpet bites when you crawl to him.

"Woah, woah hold on. You’re not doing what I think you’re doing.” Eunseok holds out his hand like that’s going to stop you. “You've never been fed on before,” he says it with such a painful sincerity that you think it’s meant to hurt, but right now, waiting in silence is hurting you more than he ever could.

"You need it, idiot. Besides, I trust you enough.”

"I've been a vamp for like 4 years! I don't trust me enough!"

"What happened to feeding from Sungchan a minute ago? You literally led the safe feeding talk at that You Can Fang thing last year!" You kneel back, saving yourself from your tone.  

Eunseok’s pinching and smoothing down the skin of his own hand. Nerves line him but you know he can hear your heart much better than you can your own. Thump-thump-thump—

"It was from his wrist, and it wasn’t term yet. I’ve – well, I’ve looked at yours, your veins are way too faint,” Eunseok mumbles. His beady eyes dipping towards your throat, while your own eyes track his tongue as he wets his lip. “You know I’d have to feed from your neck.” His voice trembles under the suggestion. Under this light, it should be impossible to tell if he’s blushing, but you swear he’s buzzing with heat.

You’re not stupid: you pay attention to your vampire education and etiquette classes. Enough people walked out of that feeding talk red faced and a little shifty eyed at anyone that had bite marks at the neck. The blush that sears across your face now probably mirrors theirs.

The thing is, you’ve made up your mind a long time ago.

“I’m offering, Eunseok. Don’t be more of an idiot than I think you already are.”

Thump-thump-thump—

Eunseok’s pupils swallow up the whites of his eyes, and in the next instant, you’re being lifted, straddling his thigh, his arms a crushing force wrapped around your back and cradling your head. Burying his face into the skin of your throat, he makes a high sigh of relief. Fire licks up across where you touch, eating you alive before he’s even sank a fang.

Even if he’s stone cold under your touch, the room feels like it’s been plunged into a broil, losing yourself in a steamy haze. He noses at your pulse, the tell-tale thump-thump-thump— of your own must be as loud as the fucking heavens crashing down on him. Amber and roses, the scent that’s haunted you everywhere since you got it for him, reminds you of all that he is.

(Yours.)

A breath, another, another, before Eunseok’s head tilts up from where you’ve locked your arms around him, and you come to stare at his impossibly dark eyes paired with his pearly peeking fangs. “…Are you sure?"

You close your eyes, seeking patience. “Take as much as you need, idiot.” And Eunseok exhales so hard his whole-body shakes. Your hand tightening itself at the mess of his hair. Come on, take it.

His eyes flutter, stupidly long eyelashes ticklish against your skin, his head ducks and you get a second before he presses his lips to your neck, drops his fangs and bites.

The pain is a pinch.

A sensation that will root itself into your guts and sear itself into your muscle memory. It crawls up your jaw and shatters across your head; it splits from your skull, and it streaks down your back; and then it sets aflame everything you thought was burning already. Distantly, he groans into your skin with the same neediness as before.

Where there is fire, his lips come to sooth. Eunseok lets out a soft, needful sound as he presses his lips over your skin – and maybe you do too. Every inch of you breaks into shivers. Thump-thump-thump-thump— an anthem backed by chorus. You can feel yourself losing grip in his hair, but Eunseok just pulls you impossibly closer into him, propped up in his arms as you give more onto him. Drinking you in and eating you whole.

“Thank you,” he starts mumbling into your skin, over and over. “Thank you, thank you, thank you,” Eunseok slurs it out like prayer. Blood drunk is the word you can find floating in the haze of your mind. You turn the thought of it over and over in your head with fascination. You have to bite back a whine.

Even without the blood, you could lose yourself to the feeling of his roaming hands. Always so close to edging under your sweatshirt but catching himself every time. His hands clench at your hips, taut in a way he’s never been before.   

"Please, Eunseok..." Amid your daze, you find the strength to nod, finding his hands and slipping them under and then up, and up. You reward him, pressing a kiss to his hair. He answers with a groan that shudders down your body. Tracing the line of your spine, ribs and collar. Leaving you gasping into your quiet dorm room. You’re half aware of your agape mouth, eyes rolling to the back of your head, every part of you singing as Eunseok takes.

Propped up in each other’s arms, you don't know which one of you has given more to the sensation. Far away, you think you could sit like this for hours. Wrapped up in everything Eunseok. Subject to a degree of sheer want that you’d never want him sharing with anyone. Yours, yours, yours. It’s the anthem of your heart when you’re pressed against each other in one hot line.

…It could be another age when you feel his fangs detract. 

All you hear is your heaving breaths against the tick of the clock. The hum of your blood has plastered itself to the walls of your mind, another fixture that you’ve somehow adjusted to. Just like the cold that meets your neck again, and again. A break in the ice after drowning for hours.

Eunseok laps at the puncture wounds at your neck with enthusiasm. His hands planted firmly on your hips, holding you in place. You want to squirm as he leaves a trail of kisses to chase after the blood that drips from the wounds. Savouring every drop of you.

You bring a hand up, to cradle his working jaw, marvelling at the flush on his skin, the utter mess of his hair, how he holds you so gently.

“You… you taste like living wine. You know that, right?” Eunseok croaks out, eyes closed, head down. Something in you is struck with awe, you’ve never seen him like this. “Taste so fucking good.” He punctuates it with a kiss at the base of your throat, searing with want, humming from satisfaction.

He continues to trail them up all the way to the corner of your mouth. Teasing at your lips with his red stained ones. “You’ve ruined this for me. Don’t want anyone else feeding from you,” he purrs.

Instead of sitting there limp, you capture his face and plant a quick kiss to his lips. “Don’t want you feeding from anyone else either.” You can taste your blood on your lips as you smile and look him dead in the eye. “You’re mine too.”

Thump-thump. Eyes wide open, he stares back at you with the same craze. Partnered with Eunseok’s own brand of a self-satisfied smirk that’s driven you insane since you met him – it's mix made for devastation.

“Feel better now?” you croak out.

“All thanks to you,” he hums.

Moonlight pierces into the room and you can see him clearer now. There’s some more colour to his skin, flush from exertion, with your blood a lip-stain. Even his dazed eyes are somehow more alert than before – in spite of being a notorious lightweight.

“Let me take care you.” Eunseok preens under your hands and moves.

You nearly go dizzy from the rush as Eunseok manhandles you. Lifting you from under the knees, plastering you to his front, legs bracketing his waist, before depositing you onto your bed. A laugh escapes you from the rush of Eunseok caging you in, while landing a glancing peck on your lips

“Oh?” And you quirk your brow. A cheeky grin on your face at his own amused look. "A round two?"

However, Eunseok just rolls his eyes and collapses beside you. “We both have class in the morning and it’s like 1am.” The cheeky bugger buries into your side and slings an obnoxious leg around your hip. “I’ll get you like a Gatorade in the morning for your electrolytes when we wake up, yah?”

To be honest with yourself, there’s not enough strength in you to protest or even roll your eyes back at him. Your heart’s too busy guiding you to sleep while a hand finds yours in the night.

Thump-thump… pinch and soothe.

(Needless to say, you had to wear a turtleneck to class tomorrow morning.)

pls lmk how this turned out bc this one was a learning experience for me! a like or reblog would be lovely if you enjoyed ty <3 ⭒ masterlist