#damien x listener
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Yandere Damien Bloodmarch🦇🩸🏳⚧With Gender Neutral and Specific Trans Man Listener (Dream Daddy) Disclaimer: Damien Bloodmarch is a trans man in canon! Trans men like Reader can be Femme boys and buff femme boys like Jojo's bizarre adventure kind of style! Reader being a femme boy does not make him any less trans or any less a man! Clothing does not make your gender, clothes can be worn by anyone regardless of what they look like! Trans men are Men and Trans Rights Are Human Rights! Disclaimer:
Damien Bloodmarch is once again a trans man and he is not Yandere in canon! This is just for fun, and not to be taken seriously at all! Simping for fictional characters and yanderes is fine! Just do not be illegal or gross about it! You know who you are! Your Dirty, Flaky, Biscuits! Yanderes are not ideal partners to have in real life, also, remember to separate fiction from reality and headcanons from canon! Thank you!
Here is the Request for Bonus Content after the Base Yandere HeadcanonsYandere Damian Bloodmarch (Who is a TransMan) X Transman Listener (Dream Daddy) (From Requester: I love the buff Femboy idea! (so femme Pastel Goth on a gym bro.) Like Listener is also super far in his transition like Damien and he just loves being a buff girly pop that drinks boba tea and drinks iced sugary coffee. Basically the opposite to Damien in that regard. I wanna say a Trans Man Listener who has top surgery done, and Damien has both done.I think in this scenario it'd be funny if Listener was Pastel Goth
The Listener uses testosterone gel because they're afraid of needles. But they're totally into the whole vampire aesthetic but in their own unique way.
#youtube#yandere#yandere damien bloodmarch#yandere dream daddy#yandere headcanons#headcanons#dream daddy#dream daddy damien#damien bloodmarch#damien x listener#damien x gender neutral listener#damien x trans man listener#listener#trans man listener#femme boy listener#femme boy trans man#gender neutral listener#damien bloodmarch is a trans man#trans men are men#trans rights are human rights#trans day of remembrance#happy trans day of remembrance#trans day of remembrance 2024
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after peace
i wrote a fanfic!
it’s a sxf au of what would happen if a retired twilight was tasked with protecting a certain troublesome child. it’s got fluff, it’s got angst, and it’s got romance (a lil bit)!!!! >:D
it’s got 22,000 words, 11 chapters, and is completely finished. i hope you enjoy :))))
#dinner time kids#open wide#im boutta momma bird this to you#okay ill shut up about my fanfic after this#also listen to a.m. am by damien jurado NEOWW#sxf#spy x family#loid forger#spyxfamily#yor forger#twiyor#anya forger#spy x family fanfiction#ao3
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Goodbye bad feelings, hello empty memory.
Alright, I love the idea of Damian and Danny as twin who love each other very much but for some reason split up or didn't get along but learn to do so because they love each other more than they resent each other, really, I swear, but.... Danny never remembers anything from his time in the league.
Absolutely nothing, maybe he had some memories before he died for the second time, maybe he remembers Damian and he misses him, he is his brother and he loved him and.... not anymore, when he has his accident and dies for the second time his memory is lost, for a while he has a hard time recognizing his friends, he opens his eyes and doesn't know who are the guys that look so desperate in front of him.
Time goes by and although there are memories that never came back (he hardly remembers his first years with the Fentons, let alone the ones before that), he improves, learns to use his powers, gets closer to his friends, learns things again.
He discovers things in his room, something about a past he no longer knows, it bothers him not to know but even though he tries to remember nothing comes back, the name "Damian" causes him nothing, reading a little of what he wrote after researching the language he also doesn't recognize, he decides it wasn't important, not anymore at least.
He reads what he can and decides that yes, there are things he is fine without remembering, maybe he lacks context, maybe there is something there that he should discover or be more interested in a past that seems so mysterious but... if when he remembered him he thought he would be happy now that he was far away, maybe he was just as important as Dash, someone who unfortunately won't let himself be ignored but one day he will leave behind and never think of him again.
Life is good.
Or was until Robin, Gotham's vigilante, ambushes him with a heated speech full of pain and resentment while on "vacation" with his parents in Gotham.
Danny has had weird things happen to him before but he usually has context.
Robin looks furious and about to cry (if his unsteady voice says anything), Danny stares at him, from his hair to the way he moves, he pays attention to his voice and his sword but all he can say is "you know me?" without acknowledging him in the slightest.
#danny phantom#dp x dc#batpham#batman#dpxdc#danny fenton#damian wayne#Danny wrote the letters when he was just a kid and wrote that he missed Damian but was happy to be away from the league.#Goggle translator is separating siblings :(#Danny lost his memory and now he does not remember Damian#Damian was furious because all this time he thought Danny was dead#Danny without having listened to Robin and with only two hours of sleep: “Oh shit he knows I'm not fully human”.#Damien who has just exposed his feelings to realize that he does not recognize him:“I will follow you until you remember me or wish to die”
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He's just a ittle dum
Give him time
#art#drawing#digital art#south park#pip pirrup#pip#south park pip#damien thorn#sp#damien#south park damien#dip#damien x pip#pip x damien#animation#little headcanon that Damien has a stuff bear that he chews on in his sleep#when you want to talk to him he will listen to the teddy bear#use the teddy bear
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Damangela lives rent free on smoshtwt
...but in the most unfortunate way because have they not seen from this fixation of theirs that there's a section of us who will have a field day if Damien surprise us one day as a guest in a Starkid prod? Or another variant at Smosh where both Angela and Damien can showcase their talents and intellect? Their chaotic bickering is like treats because there's also other Smosh duos that have it too. But those fewer times where they truly shine, whether they're in the same video or not, really feels like a reward to witness it unfold.
(I am one of those who like this duo because of their musical inclinations and astounded by their way of thinking)
I simply don't know what they are trying to impose. The perfect person podcast really sealed it to me. That if what they imply is she only tolerates every interaction she had with him is simply off the marks. The pièce de résistance they can't ever refute.
Is it also not a tad reaching to practically put it on blast with their straw picking speculation that it was a Damien thing where they perceived him not being as socially adept in a way he is not in good terms to his coworkers? That's not a good look to give to someone who was masking before.
Smoshtwt can be too much sometimes,
I think I finally figured out why the interactions between here (tumblr) and there (Twitter) are so different - They partake in 'Stan' culture, while over here is a bit more rooted in classic 'Fandom' culture.
If you didn't know, 'Stan' comes from combining 'Stalker' and 'Fan' (I believe originating in the K-pop community) (though if you google it, it says it comes from an Eminem song. Funny, but I don't think that's right) so it's a bit more... intense. (either origin for 'Stan' is pretty extreme though)
That and Twitter in general festers a more hostile community. The more you make someone mad the more they interact with you, so Twitter pushes that content because of that.
(Back to your ask)
I don't know if I could physically watch a Starkid production with Damien in it, PURELY because I'd be TOO DAMN HAPPY. I'd be pausing every second and hyperventilating lol. (fr though, that would be SO FUCKING COOL!!)
It's maybe a little bit of a weird relation but, their dynamic to me is like watching a movie with incredible writing? For example of what I mean by that- Their Reddit Stories Ep really had me thinking totally different about all the situations. Literally every story Shayne would read out I would be thinking about what I thought about it, (I like to see if anyone on the couch is going to have similar opinions to me) and every. single. story. Angela and Damien came up with points I never even thought about, but were SO RIGHT!
He'd bring up something, then she'd dunk it with the most factual thing I've ever heard! (that guy not being able to wear that watch ever in front of his girlfriend !!) That whole episode is so good just for the way they both problem solve and how well they compliment each others opinions! They just have such good dialogue with each other. (Genuinely Oscar worthy writing in that episode of RS)
Every time I come across a post ANYWHERE talking about how they don't get why people even like Damangela because "Angela doesn't even seem to like Damien" it makes my eyes pop out of my skull.
WHAT DO YOU MEAN?? DO WE KNOW THE SAME ANGELA AND DAMIEN???
Like the sheer amount they both have gone on record saying how much they enjoy each others presence and love each other doesn't mean anything to them?! The amount they make each other laugh??
Like it really does come across as these Accounts just really not liking Damien more than anything to actually do with his and Angela's dynamic. (I could talk about reasons why Damien comes across as 'awkward' or 'bad with coworkers' to some people at length, but I'll save that for another day)(<-signed, Another Neurodivergent person with people issues <3)
I'm also totally convinced all the people hating on Damangela haven't seen much content with both of them in it. That's the only reason I would accept as to why they hate Damangela so much lol, they truly just don't know what they're missing out on <3
#Damien Haas#Angela Giarratana#Damngela Dynamic Enjoyer#Damangela#Damien and Angela#Damien x Angela#Damngela#Damien/Angela#smoshblr#some twitter users fr have never met an ornery person before ever in their life..#Both of them are so fucking ornery sometimes! its a way of life <3#Just because they get annoyed at each other sometimes doesnt mean they arent friends !!!#I have literally NEVER seen Damien consistently annoyed at Angela EVER#(he was annoyed in DWMP:CL where she kept saying she “stopped listening” a bunch But even then she made it up to him in that same stream)#And Angela has definitely gotten a lil annoyed at him at times but she's just an ornery bundle regardless if Damien was involved or not#I am also (by default) easily annoyable its really not as deep as people make it out to be (sometimes I'm just hungry)#Honestly they seem like people that NEED to be able to be annoyed over each other#They both really light up if they get to debate about something so I think its safe to assume they like the turmoil lol (im the same way)
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in the park
‘Deviant bought me this thing called a camera– well, I know what it does since I’ve seen people used it before but, never tried it for myself.
..so... I tried it out today when we all decided to go to the park. Oh, the look on Damien’s face when he noticed i took this photo~’
---
in all seriousness, i ended up taking random photos near the park i like visiting and had this random scenario where gavin likes taking photos of his friends when they do something fun-- each photo he takes, he treasures them.
here’s some close ups:
bonus:
Tagging:
@xdolls-crownx @annahhopee @roryzz @sparkledragonxi @cupid-moon
#redacted asmr#redacted audio#redacted fanart#redacted art#redacted damn#redacted gavin#redacted damien#redacted huxley#redacted lasko#redacted freelancer#masc freelancer#gendered listener#damien x huxley#huxley x damien#gavin x freelancer#lasko x freelancer#(kinda)#lomls <3#gavin really cares about all of them#i might make this as a lil#series of arts#hopefully#or perhaps I'll make a separate blog#dedicated to this?? 👀👀
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My Magnum Opus
x
ref1, ref2
#they are so important to me you guys have no idea#I cried while drawing this#they are so sweet & I just want them to be happy#they found peace & happiness with each other#& that's enough for them <333#I've also listened to this song first a few years ago & have since made an entire animation in my head of them waking up together#in the morning just happy to be with each other#old-2D animation style of old animated movies (from like the 40s)#I seriously love them so much#this is seriously one of the most important things I’ve ever drawn#pip pirrup#damien thorn#sp dip#pip x damien#south park#my art
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For the latest chapter of bus to nowhere.
How Steph see's it going vs how it turns out:
#poor man-bat#this is why you listen to other people#danny phantom#man-bat#batman#dc x dp#dcu#man-bat called danny a twink!#bus to nowhere#is it spoilers if you saw it coming?#spoilers#gothams eating dinner by candelight tonight!#wheres damien?
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Dip week day 3: Fluff/Angst
“ My arrival shall note the end of the Beginning, the beginning of the End, the new reign of my father! “
But never did he think when the day would come he’d care about anyone. At least the little angel is locked in heaven, a peaceful cage. The world burns, no longer can they mingle. The world to Damien was so dull, even in fire.
“The world seems so much brighter with you around.” He murmured
“Do not worry Damien…we’ll find a way! Just…don’t burn everything too fast.”
Love finds a way, even between angels and demons right?
#dipweek2023#i don’t like this one too much but I liked the concept :<#i was listening to love will find a way by lion king when I thought of this#I’m usually so fluffy so I went angsty!#Pip looks like he’s from the Smurfs movies I’m so sorry ahh#sp pip pirrup#pip pirrup#south park pip#philip pirrup#south park dip#pip x damien#south park damien#damien thorn#sp damien#digital art#my art#v art#south park fanart#south park
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Okay but now my brain is trying to figure out to make 5 Anthony's and a Damien work fanfic wise... Hmmmm
#antmien#damien haas#anthony padilla#anthony/damien#anthony x damien#listen#it's not my fault he said it so fast
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made a manip of Vee and Damien like old fanfic style and almost cried seeing on my screen 🤗
#im normal#totally normal#NO BECAUSE LISTEN#THATS MY GIRL#my literal brain daughter#i made her in my mind yall#and birthed her in a word doc#and seeing her and my other lil dude on screen-#literally made me misty eyed#anyway#smosh#smosh fanfiction#damien haas x oc#damien haas#smosh oc#courtney miller#shayne topp#this slope fic#this slope verse#olivia sui#ian hecox#fanfic manips#fanfic visuals#editing#writer things#god im so cringe
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Ripper becoming all mr loverman after Damien and Chase's eliminations
Btw, umm guys hear me out Chippamien-
-Bloody Valentine Anon❤
.
#nono#I'm listening#positive total drama takes#mod kitty#total drama#tdi#td#ship appreciation#chippamien#chase x ripper x damien#td chase#td ripper#td damien#bloody valentine anon#td 2023#td reboot#total drama 2023#total drama reboot
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Can I get your thoughts on a gn reader who’s dating Grayson and is like a parent figure or older sibling to Damien, so they have a soft spot for him ( so does Damien ) ?
Dick grayson x gn!y/n x platonic!Damian
this is my first time writing a gn reader so like I'm sorry if I write something stupid or offensive, just comment it and ill fix it.
if you are dating dick then damian will stalk you extensively at first. Dick is his favorite sibling ( in most comics) and if dick is serious about you, stalking is just how the batfam shows love.
He will be rude , he will be mean and sarcastic but dick warned you and you understand where dami's coming from. So you kindly and patiently deal with him and dick obviously doesn't let Dami cross the line when it comes to you.
One night dick had to rush out for a really scary mission and told you to stay at the manor because its the safest place to be.
Damian was the only other person that was left behind since the mission required everyone else on the team and bruce did not think damian was ready for such a high risk mission just yet.
so damian was really frustrated and also worried for the rest of the family. you walk past Dami's room to see him staring off in the distance while fidgeting or biting his nails. You ask alfred for a chess set ( or any other board/card game) and bring it to dami's room. While playing , he opens up about his frustrations and you patiently listen . Not a lot of people in his family are as warm and caring as you are ( maybe dick but even he is really busy)
After that night the roles are reversed. Now damian thinks dick is undeserving of you and his snarky comments are directed to him. You just find it funny while dick is left confused. "I thought he liked me more man, why the sudden switch?" " he got enlightened dickie boy muhahah" " you are mind controlling him arent you"
One-on-one time in the manor- haha dick wishes. So he tries only calling you when dami is at school or training or patrol. ofc you and dami catch on soon which means you and dami chasing him with katanas.
talking about katanas, dami loves showing you his art and his pets and if you share an interest in either of them he gets even more excited.
you and dick become dami's honorary parents. might as well adopt him since bruce and talia are obviously not doing a very good job ( in most comics) .
whenever dami is mad at bruce or simply upset or bored he comes to you and dick's apartment. You and dick are the fun warm loving couple that spend the night playing board games and watching stupid movies . you introduce him to all the major pop culture shows and movies and dick teaches him how to just dance randomly. your apartment is so different from the gloomy , filled with blood stains, fights and training manor. its filled with music and love and warm lights cooking together in funny pjs and dancing badly to pop songs.
it is watching you and dick that dami realizes what love is supposed to look like. and what a normal household looks like( sort of normal) and it affects the way he grows up. I wont be surprised if he comes to you for parents teacher meeting days or to sign his field trips or for advice on normal things
and the canon where dami is being bullied in school, while you go full on protective mode ,dick tries teaching him how to be better in social situations.
overall dami is just counting down days dick marries you and you'all unofficially adopt him.
#Dick Grayson x Reader#Dick Grayson x You#Dick Grayson x Y/N#Dick Grayson Fluff#Dick Grayson Angst#Dick Grayson Comfort#Dick Grayson Headcanons#Dick Grayson Imagines#Nightwing x Reader#Nightwing x You#Nightwing x Y/N#Nightwing Fluff#Nightwing Comfort#Batfamily#Batfamily x Reader#Batfamily Fluff#Batfamily x You#Batfamily x Y/N#Batfamily Headcanons#Batfamily Imagines#Batboys#Batboys x Reader#Batboys Fluff#Batboys Headcanons#Batboys Imagines#Damian Wayne x Reader#Damian Wayne x You#Damian Wayne x Y/N#Damian Wayne Fluff#Damian Wayne Angst
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After The After Party
Pairing: Damien Haas x f!Reader
Summary: “‘Have you ever noticed,’ Courtney popped her lips together, spreading the gloss, ‘That Damien only ever offers to host when he knows you’re going to come?’ She turned to you again, leaning back, elbows on the sink. ‘Almost like he just wants an excuse to have you over.’”
Warnings: SMUT (18+ MINORS DNI) p in v sex, oral (f & m receiving), fingering, dom/sub dynamics, praise, creampie, soft!dom Damien who is also incredibly needy, mentions of drinking/alcohol, brief mention of gambling. If I missed anything please let me know!
AN: This is so dialogue heavy and I won't even apologize for it. Dedicated to the idiots to lovers mfs out there <3 part 2 here!!
Long shoot blocks, you’d learned, usually devolved into long nights out. The cast and crew—or, at least, those of whom had the time and the desire to let loose—often found themselves in bars with high ceilings, with music playing too loud, and drinks that were just strong enough. There were nights when you lost Arasha and Amanda to the grimy dancefloor as soon as you passed the threshold, and nights when you watched from afar as Chanse cozied up to a beautiful stranger.
You liked listening to your friends talk and laugh as if you weren’t all exhausted after the grueling work week.
You liked feeling like part of something.
Some nights, though, when Shayne and Spencer got tired of hugging the wall, and when you’d all realized how expensive it was to go out as often as you did, someone would offer their house as a respite from the outside world. It was a chance to avoid prying eyes and the same top 40 hits that seemed to play at every bar.
Now, you found yourself at Damien’s house; someone had dimmed the lights, and from your spot on the couch you could hear glasses clinking in the kitchen as Tommy poured various liquids into a makeshift mixer. Your friends held mugs of alcohol, pretending to be above the culture of red solo cups.
You watched Amanda and Angela play a card game you didn’t know on the coffee table in front of you.
“Your pile is huge—your pile is huge, oh my god!” Amanda’s voice carried over the other noises around you. You leaned against Angela’s shoulder.
“Because you’re playing wrong! You’re cheating! You’re literally cheating and it’s so uncool.” Angela tried to grab Amanda’s cards, and you smiled at their back and forth. You were admittedly distracted, but trying to play it cool, pretending your mind wasn’t elsewhere as Angela jostled your head.
You watched Damien out of the corner of your eye. He stood across the room, toying with one of his rings, nodding along to something Alex was saying.
You tried not to stare, but there was something so attractive about the way he looked in a space all his own; he didn’t command attention—Damien hated being the center of attention, especially when it was easily avoidable—but he had a way about him tonight that just seemed so relaxed, and it was hard to ignore. Especially when he was already taking up most of your thoughts as it was.
For as long as you’d worked with Damien, he was someone you looked forward to seeing. He wasn’t the only reason you got out of bed, but he was certainly up there on the list. Thoughtful, considerate; he was a generally good-natured person. He made the days go faster, making jokes and ensuring you felt included as a newer member of the cast.
And you liked his laugh, and the way he listened, and the soft color of his hazel eyes that looked somewhere close to green in the light.
It was no secret that you found him alluring, but you felt that it was better to keep those thoughts out of his orbit. If not for your sake, for his. It just seemed unfair to come onto him after you’d spent so much time together as friends, especially when he had given you no reason to think that he felt anything for you beyond camraderie.
You sat up from your position on Angela's shoulder, moving your head to get a better look at Damien. He noticed, shooting you a smile. You reciprocated it, offering a small wave, keeping your elbow low and fingers folded near your palm. He waved back, and you both quickly returned to your respective conversations.
Amanda and Angela had gone back to playing their game, light-hearted fighting words replaced by laughs as they smacked cards down.
There was a tap on your shoulder, and Courtney pulled you up from the couch.
“Come to the bathroom with me.” She set a cup of something that smelled strong on the table.
The rules of the bar still applied to house parties, and you had no problem tagging along on trips to the bathroom, sitting pretty while your friends fixed whatever makeup was still left of that morning’s full beat. You followed Courtney down the hallway and into the bathroom.
“You’re bright red, you know,” They wasted no time in grilling you, running the water and dabbing it under their eyes to wipe away streaks of mascara that had rubbed off.
“I had a Tommy special.” You sat on the edge of the bathtub.
“That’s not—you can handle your liquor.” Courtney turned, combing through their hair with her fingers, “You’re not blushing just because Tommy gave you one vodka cran.”
“It wasn’t a vodka cran. It was a vodka soda.” You could tell where the conversation was headed, and you tried to veer it off track.
“You’re not as slick as you think you are.” Courtney raised a brow.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. He hasn’t even spoken to me tonight.” You contradicted yourself, markedly aware of what she was referring to and feeding into the topic, but disputing what you could.
“You’re oblivious.” Courtney laughed, fishing lip gloss from her pocket and turning back to the mirror.
“What do you mean?” You stood behind them, watching her reapply the color to their lips.
“Have you ever noticed,” Courtney popped her lips together, spreading the gloss, “That Damien only ever offers to host when he knows you’re going to come?” She turned to you again, leaning back, elbows on the sink. “Almost like he just wants an excuse to have you over.”
“He doesn’t do that. Damien is always offering to host. Doesn’t matter if I’m here or not.” You retorted.
“Not true,” they shook their head, “On days that you're not around and we don’t feel like going to the bar, Tommy always hosts. Or Amanda. Or Ian.”
“Tommy has more alcohol at his place.” You ignored the rest of the list, still trying to change the subject.
“Dude,” Courtney was laughing now, “It’s like you don’t want to see it.”
“See what?” Your ears began to feel hot.
“That he likes you as much as you like him.” The words had a tone of finality. “Why are you so nervous?”
“Bec—are you serious? Why wouldn’t I be nervous? Why would I run the risk of ruining a perfectly good friendship? Or, you know, whatever it is—however you might describe what it is!” You started to ramble, digging yourself into a hole, “What happens if something happens and then—it could ruin work, Court. It could ruin everything!” You suddenly became aware that you were whisper-yelling. You cleared your throat, returning to a normal tone of voice. “It could ruin everything. That’s why people don’t fuck their coworkers.”
Courtney said nothing, just held up their hand and made a point of showing you the wedding band around their ring finger. She cleared her throat.
“That’s different.” You tried to backpedal.
“How?” Courtney looked amused, eager to hear your half-baked reasoning.
“Cause of course that worked out. Look at how Shayne looks at you. Look at how obvious of a pairing you two are.”
“Same way Damien looks at you.” Courtney smirked.
“You’re reading into this more than I am.” You shook your head at them. “He would’ve made a point to do something by now.”
“Are we…talking about the same Damien?” Courtney laughed, and you responded with a tight-lipped scowl. “In what world would he ever make a first move?”
“The ideal one. Where everything goes my way.” You scoffed, folding your arms.
“Right,” Courtney put a hand on your waist, and you looked at each other. “Approach this with more confidence, is all I’m saying. Give yourself—give him—the opportunity to make something happen.”
“Yeah,” you sighed, unfolding your arms and rubbing the bridge of your nose. “Yeah, no, you’re right.” She gave you a cocky look, and you slapped their arm gently, “Don’t rub it in.”
“You’re hot,” Courtney rubbed her thumb over the exposed skin of your waist, “And sweet. You deserve the world. And I love the both of you more than words, but you act like you’ve never had a crush before.”
“Not like this.” You admitted, and they smiled.
“I know. But you have nothing to lose.” They looked around as if they were afraid someone might be listening from behind the shower curtain, “I have it on good authority that he feels just as strongly about this thing—” she gesticulated vaguely, “as you do.” She smiled, turning to open the door. You grabbed her by the arm.
“What did Shayne tell you—what did Damien tell Shayne?” You tried to pull them back as they turned the door handle, but she wiggled from your grasp.
“You didn’t hear it from me!” She called back to you, leaving you alone in the bathroom to ruminate on the conversation.
~~~
It was still early when people started to trickle out. You knew when Shayne and Courtney left that the party was over.
“Do you guys need a ride?” You sidled up to Courtney where she stood in the foyer with Shayne, “I don’t mind driving you home. I’m sober. Stone cold.”
“Oh my god—Steve Austin, I love your work!” Spencer called over to you while he herded a cheerfully inebriated Tommy through the door. Shayne let out a quick, barking laugh.
“No, don’t worry about it. We’re ubering.” Courtney moved hair from your face, and you saw something dubious hidden in her smile. She leaned further into your space, lowering their voice, “And you’re not going anywhere.”
“What?” You made a face.
“Give yourself,” they pressed a finger to your chest, “an opportunity.”
You grasped her hand, squeezing her fingers. Shayne looked on, and if he knew what you were talking about, he kept it to himself.
“I’m leaving. I’ll be gone—out the door right after you.” You argued, and Courtney raised her eyebrows, waving you off before exiting. Shayne followed close behind her.
You didn’t leave right after them. As it turned out, you didn’t really want to leave at all.
You liked Damien’s house. It was spooky year-round, warm in both temperature and color palette, and his couch was cozy.
It wasn’t just the furniture; Damien’s presence was equally as, if not more, comforting. He walked around picking up whatever had been misplaced during the night, trying to find the right spot for it all. He hummed quietly to himself, shooing the cats away with his feet.
“I’m sorry for not helping,” you shifted on the couch, lying on your side.
“Don’t be sorry,” he smiled, “It’s fun to organize.”
“That is such a you thing to say, you know that?”
“What is?”
“That organizing is fun.”
“It is. Especially when I have company while I do it.” He looked pointedly at you. You held eye contact.
“You can tell me to leave. If you’re done for the night.”
“Why would I want you to leave?” He looked genuinely curious as to why you would think he’d want you gone.
“If you’re tired, or something. I get it.”
“No,” he shook his head, grabbing a cup that had been left half-full on a bookshelf, “I like having you around.”
“Can I get that as a written statement? Signed, dated…” You sat up a bit, positioning your head on the armrest of the sofa.
“Absolutely not. Nobody can ever know.” He laughed, and you couldn’t help but laugh along with him.
“Come sit with me.” You leaned over to pat a cushion before returning to your reclined position.
It could’ve just been the liquid courage you’d ingested, but you’d only had one drink. It was hardly enough to make you feel a buzz, let alone get you drunk. Maybe you were just thinking too much about what Courtney had said, about giving yourself a chance, finding an opening to let him in. Or maybe you were just really, really comfortable where you were spread out on the couch. For once, though, the confidence seemed to be your own doing.
Damien put down the cup in his hand and settled on the couch. You rested your feet on his thigh, and he placed a hand on your shin.
You’d always felt that any one-on-one time you got with him had a deadline, like you were on a time crunch based off of when the next video needed to be filmed or when your friends would join the conversation. It made the moments alone with him all the more enjoyable.
You liked being here, alone with him.
You liked it a lot.
“You wanna do something?” Damien leaned his head back on the couch, stretching his arms out beside him. You tried not to pay too much attention to the way the fabric of his t-shirt hugged his arms and the broad expanse of his chest.
“Like what?” You quirked a brow.
"Something low energy that makes us feel like we’re doing something…” He mulled over the possibilities, “Smash Bros?”
You nodded. “Wanna make it interesting?”
“I’m not putting money down.”
“Because you’re scared?”
“Yeah,” he smiled, “Scared you’ll lose. Wouldn’t wanna take a chunk out of your day rate.”
“You fucking wish,” you kicked at him gently. “I wasn’t thinking the gambling route.”
“So what were you thinking?”
“You ever played strip poker?”
Damien looked taken aback, and you regretted your proposal almost instantly. “Are you suggesting we play strip Smash?” He broke into a fit of laughter.
“We don’t—it was just a thought.” You tried to retract your suggestion.
“I didn’t say no.” He held your gaze, and you felt a tug in your stomach. “But if you get cold, tell me.”
“You say that like I’m going to lose.”
“Oh, is that what that sounded like?” He tossed you a controller, “Good. Cause that’s what I meant.”
You kicked at him again.
You lost your socks first. Then your shirt. You didn’t know whether or not to thank or chastise yourself for remembering to wear a bra. Your pants quickly followed, and though it was far from a matching set, you were relieved that your undergarments were at least presentable.
You were acutely aware of your own body now; the rise and fall of your chest and the way you moved your legs when you got caught up in the game. You didn’t notice Damien: how he bit the inside of his cheek so hard when you took off your shirt that he flinched; how he nearly lost his grip on the controller when your jeans came off; how he kept shifting in his seat.
You especially didn’t notice the way he looked at you. His eyes flicked over your face with a combination of pride and adoration, and they darkened significantly when his gaze dropped below your collar and took in your half-naked form.
“How far are you gonna take this?” Damien was grinning, his voice the only other sound against the backdrop of in-game blasts and the click of thumbs on controllers.
“Down to my skin.” You shot him a glance and he cleared his throat.
“Won’t be long, then.”
“Yeah?” You bumped your shoulder against his lightly.
“You’re oh-for-three.” He pointed out, and you pushed against him again, harder this time, in an attempt to throw him off his rhythm.
“Let me choose a different character.” You tried to reach for his hands to grab at the controller. He held it up and away from his body.
“I don’t think the character is the problem,” he laughed, face lighting up at the way you sneered in frustration. “I’m not pausing just so you can be Kirby.”
“Who said I wanted to be Kirby?” You chastised him.
“Did you want to be Kirby?” He looked smug when he turned to face you, his hands still out of reach. You realized how close you’d gotten to him over the course of your teasing exchange, and suddenly recognized that the opportunity Courtney had been alluding to was right in front of you.
You moved to straddle his waist, legs framing his body and tits inches from his face as you stretched out to grab his hands, removing the controller from his grasp. You tossed it to the side and Damien was frozen as you shifted to look behind you at the screen, your victory now swift thanks to the lack of any opponent.
You turned back to him with a smile. “Did you want to be Kirby,” you imitated him, echoing his taunt. “Lose the shirt, Dames.”
Damien looked up at you, frozen. The tension was almost visible, like fogged glass, and you had no idea how to clear the air. You were nearly certain that you had made a terrible mistake, that everything about tonight was about to go wrong.
You were unable to make eye contact with him—afraid that by looking at him you would completely fall apart and lose the edge you’d only just found. Throughout your mental battle with yourself, Damien still hadn't moved, his gaze fixed on your face.
You tried to make your fear dissipate by breaking the silence.
“What?” You laughed, a little awkwardly.
Damien swallowed. “I...sorry,” His eyes were wide as he spoke, “I just got…very nervous and—and really turned on.”
Oh.
He let out a small, huffed laugh, smiling up at you in a moment of awe. He blinked hard a few times before moving his arm to rest behind his head.
“That…that makes two of us, then,” you stayed where you were, placing your hands on your thighs. You licked your lips, exhaling, before finding the nerve to continue. “You still have to take your shirt off, though. You lost. Rules are rules.”
“Didn't you get to take your socks off first?” He narrowed his eyes playfully.
“You can take them off," your words were coy. "You want me to move?”
“I never said that.” He shook his head, leaning forward just enough to grant him the space to remove his t-shirt. He tossed it to the side, and you felt your whole body flood with nerves and anticipation when he leaned back against the couch on full display for you.
“Are you cold?” Damien brought his hand up to cup your elbow, and it was only then that you became aware of the goosebumps that had broken out over your flesh.
“No…No. Just…” You swallowed, moving slightly on his lap. “Just nervous.”
He let out a small laugh. “Do you—I mean…” He was entranced, unable to remove his eyes from your face for the fear that if he looked at any more of you, you’d be able to feel his reaction. You reached out to trace a hand over his chest, admiring him and letting the heat of his skin warm your palm. “Would you mind if…” He bit his lip, closing his eyes while your fingers grazed his flesh. He took a deep breath. “Can I kiss you?”
You stopped your hand, letting it linger on the center of his chest, just above his stomach. Damien gingerly placed a hand on your waist, and for just a moment you wondered if he could feel the desperation seeping through your skin.
“Yeah. Yeah, you can kiss me.” you nodded, maybe a little overzealous, “Please.”
You leaned forward into him. You could feel the weight of his hand on your body and the thrum of your own heartbeat in your chest as it threatened to break through your ribcage. You watched him suck in a sharp, deep breath before his other hand cupped your face. You closed your eyes, letting him guide you into the kiss.
It was tender. You moved slowly, in tandem with him. You wrapped your arms around his neck, letting yourself settle into him as you got lost in the way his mouth felt on yours. You let your lips part, making space for his tongue to dip between them and explore you further. You let out a quiet moan when he licked into you, and you let your own tongue delve beyond his lips to take a taste of what you’d been craving so urgently. His grip on your waist tightened in response to your sounds, and you took it upon yourself to test the waters, rolling your hips against him. You were rewarded with the feeling of his stiffening cock between your legs, and a gruff sound that caught in his throat. His hand moved from your face to the back of your head, applying light pressure to keep you steady as the kiss became hungrier, and he bit at your bottom lip.
When you parted, both of you pausing to catch your breath, he looked up at you, quietly chuckling to himself.
“What?” You let your hands wander over his shoulders, “Was it that bad?”
“What? No—god, no. No, I’ve just…I’ve always wanted to do that.” Damien smiled, moving his thumb in a soothing pattern over your hip, “I’ve always wanted to do that…” He trailed off, raking his eyes over you and letting both hands move up and down your sides.
“Really?” You posed the question with your eyes closed, lost in his touch. You let yourself fall forward on his chest.
“Really.” He sighed dreamily, “I can’t begin to explain to you how much space you take up in my head. The real thing is a lot better than the imaginary version.”
“But you can do whatever you want in your imagination.” You pointed out, pressed against him and tracing lines over his collar with one finger.
“Yeah. Sure. But nothing I think up could ever beat this.” His fingers grazed the clasp of your bra, “And, full transparency, I’ve thought up a lot.”
You laughed, pushing yourself up with both hands on his chest to really look at him; his hair was messy, and his cheeks were flushed pink.
He looked flawless. You felt flawless.
“Damien,” your tone was saccharine, still tinged with a shy edge but steadily coming into your own with help from Damien’s clear reciprocation of your feelings, “Do you wanna show me all the thoughts you’ve had?” You watched his face go stern at your words, still hinting his amusement with a small, nearly hidden smile. “Do you wanna act on them?”
He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you flush against him; somehow the feeling of your tits pressed against his bare chest was almost more intimate than the kiss you’d just shared. You squealed, tossing your head back, which he took as an opportunity to leave dainty kisses on your throat, muttering against your skin.
“I don’t think you’ve ever seen my room.” His voice was gravelly, parched from the kisses he left on your skin as he picked you up. You gasped, suddenly off the ground and in his arms as he carried you down the hall; one of his hands trailed down your body, and you felt his fingers dig into the flesh of your upper thigh to keep his hold on you. You hid your face in the crook of his neck, letting him overwhelm your senses.
You got lost momentarily, like time had paused or sped up or stopped completely, but then you were in his room. The lights were dim, just as they were in the rest of the house, and the shelves stacked with various tchotchkes and books that you were too distracted to care about in the moment.
You realized that a person could look like their home, in a way, and you recalled the moment earlier in the evening when you had found yourself so attracted to how Damien carried himself in his own space. It’s because the space was just as welcoming, just as comforting and soothing as he was.
He let his grip on you loosen, and you landed on his bed, hands still wrapped around him and tentative of letting go. But you didn’t have to; he lay next to you, rolling onto his side and pulling you against him in a swift maneuver that placed you comfortably on his chest.
He didn’t kiss you, maybe out of anxiety that he was moving too fast for your taste, or just because he felt the moment didn’t call for it, but he brushed his nose against yours and let his hands linger on your waist.
“Is this what you thought about?” You whispered, letting him continue his quiet ministrations, “Taking me to bed and touching me like this?”
“And so much more,” he breathed, hands moving up your back, trying to commit your entire body to memory. “I hope you—I didn’t mean for it to come off like I’ve only ever thought about fucking you.”
You moved to rub your thumb over his cheek. “What did you mean?”
“That I don’t want you to be my friend,” he smiled, and your heart dropped for a second before he continued, “That I think about you all the time in ways that friends don’t think about each other. And I…” He searched for the right words, “Even after a night like this, even after, you know, seeing everybody and having everybody over—even when a place is full of people, and noise…You’re still the only person I can pay attention to. Or think about.”
You couldn’t help but let out a laugh, and he pulled away from you to meet your gaze.
“Does that sound really stupid?”
“No,” you reassured him, pulling him back towards you, “No, it’s…you put it into words, Damien.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean I get it. I’ve been trying to figure out how to describe what you mean to me, and you just,” you laughed again, trying to collect yourself, “You did the work for me.” You smiled, tilting your head back with your chest still pressed against him, making sure he paid attention to what you were saying. “I love you.”
You watched his face change, something in his eyes and the curl of his lips looked different in a way you couldn’t pinpoint. You couldn’t look for long, because he was on you again in a flash, arms wrapping around you, engulfing you with his body and tugging you into him. His lips crashed against yours, and it was hungry, and messy, and passionate, so much so that you couldn’t be bothered to care about the clack of teeth or the small bead of spit that fell from the corner of your lip.
“I love you,” Damien’s voice sounded tight, higher than it had been all night, “I love you.” He freely explored your body now, big hands reaching over your ass and offering soft squeezes before grazing your sides and the swell of your breasts.
“You know how,” you managed to get a few words in between heated kisses, “you said you didn’t want it to come off as if you only wanted to fuck me?” You let out a small moan when he licked a stripe up your neck and to your earlobe, mumbling quiet curses to yourself at the feel of his tongue on your body.
“Mhm,” Damien acknowledged your words without breaking away from you, still nipping at your neck while you let your breathing mellow so that you could continue speaking.
“Want you to fuck me,” you put a hand in his hair, forming a fist in the silver strands and pulling him up to make eye contact. “Damien, I want you to fuck me.”
He looked almost surprised, like he had forgotten physical intimacy beyond kissing you was even an option. The look of mild shock was replaced with clear enthusiasm as he moved to get off of the bed. “I’d hate to make you ask twice.”
He shed his jeans, and you realized this was more of him than you had ever seen before; standing next to you was the man that took up all your thoughts, ready and willing to give you what you wanted, his eyes like pools of reverence as they trailed over your form.
You couldn’t help but feel excited, uncaring if you came off as desperate. You sat up and moved to the edge of the bed, situating yourself on your knees. Your hands found purchase on his chest and slowly moved down his stomach until you reached the waistband of his boxers.
“Eager,” he let your hands wander, watching on as you explored. You paused, looking up at him to wordlessly ask if you were allowed to go further. “Don’t be shy, baby,” something about his tone had changed, and the cheerful voice you’d come to know and love was replaced with a deeper, rasping sound that you thought you might like even more. “You can touch. Take what you need.”
The words reached your core before they fully hit your ears, and you shifted on your knees, pressing your thighs together to give yourself some relief. Sliding your hand under his waistband, you were met with the solid, smooth skin of his cock. He helped you pull his boxers down and over his length, letting it spring free, and you felt your mouth water.
He was big, thick, and while not surprising in the slightest, you couldn’t help but whine at the sight before you. You looked up at him, your hand wrapped around his cock, thumb brushing the reddened tip; you expected him to look smug, proud of himself, maybe, but he looked dumbstruck, in awe of the way your hand looked wrapped around him—in awe of the fact that it was you.
“Damien,” you prompted, and it broke him out of his haze. He nodded. “Can I…”
“Please,” he took a deep breath, “God, yes, please.”
You smiled. “Well, I’d hate to make you ask twice.” He laughed at your mimicry before quickly silencing himself with a shaky moan when you licked an experimental stripe up the bottom of his cock. He tilted his head to the side, unable to decide whether to get lost in the pleasure or to enjoy the view he had of you, bent over yourself on your knees and using your mouth in a way he’d only ever dreamed of.
You spit in your hand, gliding it over him and appreciating the way he felt in your hands; the warmth, the pliant weight. You made sure he was looking when you finally took his tip in your mouth, circling your tongue over him. You moved your hand in sync with the way you bobbed your head. He groaned, hand flying to rake his fingers through your hair, and the way he sighed out your name spurred you on more.
His other hand caressed your back, tugging cautiously at the straps of your bra.
“Take it off,” you pumped him in your hand, letting your tongue flick out to deliver barely-there licks to the tip of his cock. “Take it off for me.”
“Fuck.” He huffed, hypnotized by the way you used your mouth on him. He undid the clasp with one hand, and you let the straps hang off your body. You didn’t want to pause your movements, didn’t even want to slow down at the risk of having to go for even a second without hearing him moan your name; you shook the constricting material from yourself, taking him deeper in your mouth until tears pricked your eyes so that you could slip your bra off your arms. Damien let out a low groan, tightening the grip he still had on your hair.
You took him deeper still, hand working what you couldn’t fit down your throat. When you gagged on him, he let out an absolutely filthy sound.
“You like that?” He was smiling with his mouth open, chest heaving with every breath, “You like choking on me?” You answered with a garbled “yes,” his cock still pressed against the back of your throat, one hand on his hip to keep yourself stable as your other hand stroked the base of him. He moaned. “You look so pretty. Always knew you’d look so good with my cock down your throat, baby.”
You couldn’t help the noise that you let out, something between a gasp and a moan that sent vibrations up Damien’s spine. You continued to move up and down over his cock before removing your mouth from him, spit dripping down your chin and a dopey smile on your lips.
Damien grabbed your face in one hand, fingers pressing hard against your cheeks as he pulled you up to his level. “You really are just so fucking perfect.” He kissed you, letting the drool that coated your chin drip onto his face. “Can I taste you? Can I taste how sweet you are?”
You nodded, the hand he still had on your face moving with you.
“Yeah? Say it.” He demanded, and you whimpered, enjoying the look of dominance on him.
“Want you to taste me, Damien.” When you spoke, his fingers pressed the inside of your cheeks against your teeth. “Want you to taste how sweet I am.”
He growled, moving his jaw in a circle as if to stretch the muscles in preparation for what he planned on doing to you. “How do you ask nicely?”
You felt an adrenaline rush deep in your stomach. It was one thing to be here with your pleasure in his hands, but to hear Damien say the things you’d fantasized about for so long made your head swim.
“Please…” One of your hands grabbed impatiently at his arm, “Please, Damien…want…want you to fuck me with your tongue. Please.”
He kissed you again, smiling against your mouth and removing his hand from your face to push softly against your chest so that you fell back onto the bed. He knelt on the mattress, holding your calves and pulling your legs open. You sank into the pillows at the head of the bed, letting them cradle and support you at an angle that allowed you to look down at Damien, whose face hovered over your core. His fingers danced over the waistband of your panties, and you wondered if he had felt the same tingly sensation when you toyed with his boxers as you did right now with his hands running over your hips and stomach.
He pressed his face against your clothed cunt, impatient and greedy for you. You moaned, one hand fisting the sheets under you while the other came to rest on your thigh, holding your legs open for him when your muscles threatened to snap them closed following the sudden contact.
“Fuck, Damien, that feels—that’s so good.” You squirmed under him as he licked over your panties, tongue brushing your clit through the fabric. You tried to push the material down, wiggling your hips to ease your panties off your body, but Damien caught your hands in his.
“Let me play, baby.” His doe eyes stared up at you from between your legs with a devious glint. You didn't listen, and instead continued to move your hips in an attempt to wriggle out of the fabric that kept his mouth from making direct contact with you. He pressed down on your hips, forcing you to cease your fidgeting. “Be patient.”
He licked a stripe from where your panties threatened to reveal your hole and up to your clit, and you arched your back in an attempt to encourage him further.
“God, Damien, please!” You pleaded, begging for him to touch you without the obstacle of the fabric that remained on your body. “Want it—said you wanted to taste me, you can taste me—you can taste me, I need it. Please, let me feel your tongue, please—”
Damien snapped your waistband and you yelped, effectively ending your rambling.
“You’re pretty when you beg," he kissed your stomach, and you let out a whimper. "But if you don’t shut your mouth, I’ll fuck it.” Damien’s words weren’t harsh, you could hear the joviality buried under the severity in his voice, and somehow that made it even sexier.
Your arousal was heightened when, as you moaned at his words, you felt two thick fingers plunge into your cunt. Your breath caught in your throat, and you choked out his name.
“Oh my god!” You cried out, looking down to see that he had moved your panties to the side to give himself access to your entrance. His fingers pumped in and out of you, curling to hit your more delicate spots, and the sound was utterly indecent.
“You’re soaked,” Damien was smiling with his top teeth, watching his fingers as they disappeared inside of you. “What got you so wet, baby?”
“Because…s’cause…” You didn’t have the energy to talk, too focused on the way his fingers pushed against the walls of your cunt, forcing your body to make space for him.
“Because why?” He goaded, thumb rubbing circles on your clit as he pushed his fingers deeper, “Because you like the way I touch you? Hm? Because you’ve been thinking about this as much as I have? For as long as I have?”
You nodded, mouth agape and eyes threatening to roll back; maybe you looked pathetic, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care, completely content with his fingers thrusting into you.
“Aw, come on. If you still want my mouth, you’re gonna have to do better than that.” He removed his fingers from inside of you, using the slick that coated them as lubricant to massage your clit.
“Wanted this for so long—so fucking long, Damien.” Your words came out rushed and breathy, “Thought about you like this all the time. Thought about—about you when I came, every time I came.” You couldn’t stop yourself from telling him the truth, the words tumbled from your lips as easily as taking a breath.
Your admission made him pause his movements, and for a moment the dominance in his face faded into something more tender. But he gathered himself, finally pulling off your panties in one fell swoop, then taking one of your legs and hooking your knee over his shoulder while you continued to babble to him.
“Keep talking, princess,” the nickname made you dizzy with desire, and you whined out for him, your eyes wide and watery when his breath fanned over your now bare, slick coated center. “Keep talking. Tell me all about it while I taste you.”
The first swipe of his tongue against your clit sent shockwaves through you, and you whimpered before recollecting your train of thought.
“Th—oh!” You quickly lost your words again when Damien began to ease his tongue into your entrance, toying with your hole before plunging into you with a purpose. He squeezed your thigh, and you took it as encouragement to continue. “Thought about this all the time—about your mouth against me. Using your mouth on me until my legs got sore from the way you’d hold me open.” He groaned against your cunt, and you extended a hand to comb your fingers through his hair. “Thought about all the ways you could use me. All the ways I would let you use me—fuck, like that, please!”
He had his face buried in you, your slick dripping down his chin and his nose pressed against your clit. You could feel the movement of his tongue inside of you, and you tugged on his hair as the sensation spread over your body.
“Thought about getting on my knees for you. I would let you have me whenever you wanted—wherever you wanted.”
Damien growled. “Yeah?” His brow quirked and he looked up at you momentarily before diving back into your heat, “Have to take you up on that.”
You whimpered, the muscles in your thighs and abdomen tensing from the onslaught of pleasure, and the feeling let you know that you were approaching your peak.
“Knew you would make me feel so amazing, Damien, knew you’d make me cum like nobody else ever could.” You were stringing words together faster than your brain could think them up. But even if they came out jumbled, every last word was true.
“Want you to cum on my mouth,” Damien was grinding his hips against the mattress, the relief he got from the fabric of the sheets dulled his intense arousal only momentarily, but he chased the feeling. “Please, baby, give it to me.”
You pulled his hair, admittedly harder than you had intended, but with the moan he let out, it seemed he didn’t mind. His tongue worked wonders as he extended it over and into you. Right when you thought you were already done for, limbs going slack and the pleasant tingle in your core reaching a fever pitch, Damien wrapped his lips around your clit and sucked hard, letting his tongue flick against the sensitive bud.
It felt good to scream out for him, to let his name fall repeatedly from your lips as you yanked on his hair, but it felt better to hear his voice and the words that rang out from between your legs.
“Beautiful,” he was mumbling, still licking into you, trying to savor the tangy flavor of your cum. “So fucking beautiful, baby. Look at the pretty fucking mess you made. Did such a good job.”
You tugged again on his hair and he let you guide him up to face level. When he leaned in to kiss you, you opened your mouth instantly, and he slid his tongue between your lips. You sucked on it happily, eager to taste yourself on him, eager to experience everything you'd always imagined being able to do with him.
In turn, he held you close, so you wouldn’t slip away like you did when he woke up from his dreams.
You let the kiss linger, leisurely grasping at each other and appreciating the newfound lack of constraint. You curled yourself into him, lying on your side and tangling your legs with his in an effort to get as close to him as you could.
“You look so pretty when you cum,” Damien mumbled, lips grazing your pulse point, dipping down and sucking faint bruises onto your collar. “I want to see it again.”
“You can see it whenever you want,” you closed your eyes, relishing the gentle pressure he was putting on your skin so that the marks would form in small spots across your chest. You cupped his cheek in your hand, and he reluctantly stopped licking the bruises that had begun to pop up. Your thumb stroked the skin under his eye. “I want you to see it again now.”
Damien leaned into you, trailing kisses over your jaw. “You want me to fuck you?” He licked a stripe up your neck and over your chin. When his tongue reached your mouth, you opened for him, letting him lick between your lips, kissing him fervidly and moaning softly. “Yeah? You want me to fuck you? Want me to fuck you even though I just made you cum?" He growled into your mouth. "You need more already?"
“Yeah,” you smiled shyly, rubbing your face against the stubble on his cheek.
“Needy thing.” He removed his hands from you, then snaked his arms through the gap in your bodies and put his hands on your shoulders, pushing you against the mattress and onto your back.
He straddled your legs, keeping you immobile on the bed and kissing down your chest. He nipped at the plush flesh of your breasts, unable to contain himself, unable to hide the obvious pleasure he took in seeing you this way.
“Damien—” You sighed when he circled his tongue around one of your nipples, your fingers wrapping around his bicep.
“I know. I know. Sorry, I just—God, you’re beautiful.” He smiled, more to himself than to you, but the joy on his face was palpable, and you were sure he could detect the pride you felt at being the one to make him feel this way.
He used his knee to spread your legs, opening you up for him, moving his own legs to situate himself between your thighs. One of his hands ran up and down your leg as he stroked himself, lining his cock up with your entrance. When the tip of him rubbed between your folds, you whimpered, moving your hands down his arm and squeezing his forearm.
“Is this what you want?” Damien was looking down, examining how perfectly his body meshed with yours. “You want me to fuck you?”
“Yeah,” your words were barely above a whisper, “Want you to fuck me.”
He moved his hand further up your body and squeezed your hip. “Where are your manners, princess?” He smirked, “Say please.”
“Please, Damien,” you stared up at him wide-eyed, captivated. “Please.”
“There you go.” He squeezed your hip again in recognition of your obedience. Slowly, as if he was worried he’d break you, he pushed into you, watching your eager, waiting cunt swallow every inch he offered you. You moaned, squeezing his arm and leaving small, curved marks where your nails dug into his skin. You watched his eyelids flutter, head tilting back with his mouth ajar, letting out a deep groan as he squeezed his eyes shut before opening them again to meet your heavy-lidded gaze.
“Big.” It was all you said, stretched and full of him in a way nobody had ever filled you up before.
Damien swallowed a laugh, flashing a domineering smile. “Big?”
“Too big.” You clarified, not entirely meaning it; you were thrilled to be this packed with him, but it had been so long since you’d felt a satisfying sting like this that it would take you a moment to get accustomed to it.
“You can take it, baby. I know you can.” He pressed his palm over your stomach, brushing his thumb across your skin soothingly. “You tell me if it’s too much, ok? Use your words, say it’s too much, and I’ll stop.”
“Don’t want you to stop.” Your voice came out strong momentarily, so eager for him that the possibility of him leaving you empty made you tense. “Waited so long…” You said, mellowing slightly, “Want you. Want you to…to use me.”
Damien made a throaty noise, something between a laugh and a moan that both relaxed and lit a fire inside you. Unhurried, he pulled out of you, his hands on your hips to give himself proper leverage. You exhaled slowly, mind set adrift by the feeling of his cock dragging against your walls; his rounded tip, every vein that ran up his length—you were certain you could feel it all.
You whimpered when he had pulled out enough so that nothing but the head of his cock penetrated you. You swayed your hips, trying to spur him on, but even with just the tip you felt you had ample stimulation.
He didn’t stop you, just watched on as you tried to fuck yourself with the tip of his cock just barely inside of you.
“You need some help?” He raised an eyebrow at.
“Please—fuck me, please.” You nodded excitedly, aching for him.
He smiled, eyes fixed on your face as he rammed back into you, watching your mouth contort and your tits bounce as your body absorbed the force. You screamed out for him, arching your back, which gave him the ability to push the remainder of his cock as far into you as he could.
“Fuck Damien! So—feel…so full!” You felt a tear fall over your cheek, overwhelmed by the bliss of having his cock buried inside of you and the rough way in which he made it happen. He leaned over you, supporting himself on his forearms as he caged you between them, and met you at face level. He thrust in and out of you shallowly, bringing his lips to your cheek and kissing the path of the delighted tears you had shed.
“Yeah? Feel full?” He whispered, still moving his hips, his cheek pressed against yours so he could speak directly into your ear.
“Yes, Damien—God, yes!” You wrapped your arms around his neck, trying to immerse yourself in all of him. You searched for any part of him that you could reach with your mouth, planting sloppy kisses on his collar, his shoulder, the crook of his neck.
“Good.” He kissed your cheek again, before licking the wet, salty trail that your tears had left behind. “Want you to feel me for days after this.” He found your lips and kissed you, the pace and intensity of his thrusts increasing. “And when you can finally walk straight, I’m gonna do it to you all over again.”
You scraped your nails up his back, moaning for him and desperate to have him follow through on his threat. He buried his face in your neck, and you could feel the tug of his stubble on your skin as he panted against you, fucking into you aggressively in a way you’d always dreamed he would.
Each thrust felt deeper, and there came a point where you felt a pleasant pain in your side as his cock brushed your cervix.
“Damien—Christ, you’re so fucking deep,” Your nails jabbed harder into the skin of his back and he let out a hiss. “Please, like that. Just like that, don’t stop. B-bruise me, please, please!”
“I won’t stop, princess,” Damien’s words were snarled, gruff in your ear as his lips grazed just below your earlobe. “I promise. Wanna leave this pretty pussy so nice and sore.” He sucked a mark under your jawline, "Wanna ruin you."
You moved one hand, fingers lacing through his silver hair and yanking at the brown roots to pull him from his spot in the crook of your neck. He took the hint, rising up to meet you, his mouth finding yours and biting at your bottom lip.
“I love you,” you couldn’t bite back the words, not even if you tried; not when his cock was hitting spots you didn’t even know were there, not when he was using all his upper body strength to stay above you just so he could gaze down upon your tear-streaked, fucked out face, not when it was something you’d been dying to tell him in this capacity for as long as you could remember. “I love you, Damien—I love you.”
“I love you,” he echoed your words, voice softening and face relaxing. “I love you so much. I do, I love you so much.”
You raised your hips to meet his thrusts, and Damien moaned out your name, muscle in his jaw tensing before he let his mouth fall slack. He paused momentarily, sitting up while still buried inside you, to take your legs in his hands and press your knees back to your chest. You were bent in half, completely at his mercy and loving it. You yelped, the new angle giving him the ability to drive harder and deeper into you; the control he had over your body made your head swim and your cunt squeeze around him. He leaned over you, smiling through the pleasure that clouded his mind to jeer at you affectionately as he continued to escalate the manner in which he fucked you.
“What’s wrong, baby?” He watched you, your head lolling to the side and practically drooling as you looked back up at him, pitiful moans and gibberish the only way you could communicate. “Lose your voice?”
You swallowed hard, gasping for air and overcome with the feeling of him. You searched for the right words.
“Make me—oh!—feel so good,” you panted, “so fucking good.”
“Who makes you feel so good?” Damien pressed, plunging his cock as deep as he could, his hips firm against the back of your thighs.
“You do!” You felt all of him, and still, somehow, you craved more. “You do—you, you!”
“Yeah? Say it princess. Say Damien you make me feel so good.” He grabbed your chin, forcing you to stare up at him with your lust-blown eyes. “Say it.”
“Da—Damien,” you whimpered as he fucked you in quick bursts while waiting for you to speak. “Damien, you—you make m-me feel so good.”
He pressed his lips to yours, further enhancing the way your body was already contorted, and you moaned into his mouth at the feeling of being used like a toy by him.
“That’s right,” Damien licked into your mouth, “You make me feel so good, princess.”
He pulled back from your face, straightening once more; he grabbed your legs and threw them over his shoulders, gripping your thighs close to his body and using them to pull you onto his cock. The sounds you made were high pitched and pathetic, eyes rolling back while he placed kisses on your calves where they were slung over his shoulders; he nipped at you, teeth just barely grazing the flesh of your legs as his lips did a bulk of the work. The tickle of his five o’clock shadow was a welcome match to the gentle pressure you felt in your abdomen brought on by the way his cock stretched you.
He wrapped one arm around your legs, leaving you powerless to his movements as your head pushed back into the pillows from the sheer delight of feeling him inside of you, heightened by the depth and momentum with which he fucked you. He let his other hand drop to hold your hips, thumb caressing your skin with unidentifiable shapes.
You couldn’t remember getting fucked like this before—if you ever even had been fucked like this before. Somehow Damien knew you inside and out better than anybody else did, maybe even better than you knew yourself. This was proven by the way he drove his hips into you, hauling you over his cock and making you feel the delicious drag of his length in a way that made you feel full to the point of near discomfort. The electrified jolts of satisfaction when the tip of his cock pressed up against your more delicate, hidden spots, were eased by the soft way he touched you. The feeling wasn’t confined to your walls; his fingers brushed your clit, the ghost of a touch sending shockwaves through your system. You wriggled your body, unable to contain yourself and responding physically to the way his digits teased you while he ruined you with his cock.
He was rough, wild, and everything you needed. When you looked up at him, you could still see the kindness in his features, hear the compassion with which he moaned your name, feel the romantic way he squeezed at your body even while he was fucking you stupid. His groaned words of praise, of affirmation, when he managed to gasp your name between panting thrusts brought you to the edge just as much as his physical prowess did, and you let it be known how you were feeling.
“Damien—” You reached out, grasping at his arm where it wrapped around your legs, his other hand kneading your clit in slow circles. You felt your cunt tighten around him, walls fluttering in preparation for your oncoming orgasm, hips bucking on their own accord as you chased the ecstasy he brought you.
“Give me another, princess,” he grunted, pounding into you, his fingers deftly tracing over your clit. “Doing so good, give me one more.”
You turned your face to the side and buried it into the pillow under you, biting into the cloth to silence your increasingly loud screams. He reached down to grab your face, once again pushing your knees to your chest and earning a loud gasp of his name as you wiggled your hips against him, relishing the feel of his cock throbbing deep inside of you.
“Show me that pretty face,” he cooed, sweat lining his temples from exertion, “Let me hear those pretty sounds.” He pressed hard against your clit, and your body responded explosively; you screamed for him, reaching for his shoulders to pull him to your chest and kiss him as a warm feeling spread from your center and out to your limbs. You could feel it in your chest, the fulfillment traveling over every inch of your body, muscles responding in kind with small twitches as your cunt squeezed him tight.
Your legs squirmed free from underneath him, and you wrapped them around his waist, keeping him close to you while you rode out your high, circling your hips over his cock. He moaned into your mouth, the kiss devolving into a messy exchange of spit and sweat and teeth, lips chapped and swollen with passion. You bit his lip and he growled, leisurely swaying his hips and punctuating his thrusts with eager whines.
“Where,” he was breathing heavily, once again finding solace in the crook of your neck. “Where do you want it, baby. Tell me. Please.” He was practically whimpering, begging you for permission to finish by communicating where it was you wanted his cum.
“Inside,” you moaned, the aftershocks of your orgasm lulling you into a sleepy heap of oversensitivity and devotion.
Damien growled as he took in your request. “You’re—fucking christ, you’re sure?”
“Please,” it was all you could say, desperate to feel the culmination of his pleasure inside of you. “Pill. Need it, Damien. Cum inside me. Let me feel it, please.”
Damien groaned at your words, brow knit and mouth open. He sped up his pace, pushing himself up from you and supporting himself on his hands. You whined, content and aching for him.
“Fuck, I'm gonna fill this pussy up so deep.” Damien squeezed his eyes shut momentarily before opening them and looking down at you, “Fuck—gonna cum, baby, I'm—fuck!” His hips stuttered, and you wrapped your legs around him tighter, keeping him secure against you. He dropped down onto you, still providing shallow thrusts, though much gentler than before. “I love you,” he whispered, lips pressing against your neck as he engulfed you with his own body, cock spent and twitching inside of you, “I love you.”
“I love you,” you repeated quietly, and when he kissed you, you could feel that he meant it; the words echoed in your mind as he eased his lips against yours, taking time now to really savor the way you moved against him and enjoy how perfectly you fit together.
You focused on catching your breath, and he removed himself from atop you as he collected himself. When he slipped his cock from you, you whimpered at the new emptiness, and he kissed your temple.
You both stayed there, lying in bed together while you came down from the high-energy tryst. You still couldn't remove yourselves from each other completely, limbs tangling together and hands gliding over sweaty skin as you appreciated the tranquility together.
“Do you want water?” He asked, nose rubbing against your cheek.
“Yeah,” you gulped a breath, “Yeah. Thanks.”
He got up on shaky legs and found a pair of sweatpants, walking to the kitchen only to return seconds later with a glass of water. His face was radiant and his cheeks dusted pink as he beamed at you.
“Thank you, baby,” you guzzled the cool liquid, mouth dry from the way he'd made you scream.
“Say—” Damien looked down at you, giddy, “Will you say it again?”
You smiled, tired eyes taking in his form. “Thank you, baby.”
He sat down next to you. The mattress shifted with his weight, and you inched yourself towards him.
“I like hearing you say it.” He seemed timid, like after all that had happened, he was still worried you’d reject him.
“I like saying it,” you nuzzled your face into his stomach, resting on his thigh. His hand came down to pet your hair, thumb occasionally brushing over your temple.
“Will you stay here tonight?” He asked, “Only if you want to, I mean—but, I’d like it if you did.” He laughed to himself, “And then, you know…if you wanted to stay every night—I’d like that, too.”
“Well, good, cause the U-Haul is on its way over.” You turned your head to look up at him from your spot on his leg.
“Wow, those guys work fast,” he smirked down at you. “And then, when you, uh—when you finish moving in…could I take you out on a real date?” His face looked so gentle, “You know, away from everybody we know. Just…just us?”
“I would like that.” You smiled, turning to place a kiss on his stomach. He examined your face, still stroking your hair.
“I’m sorry if anything I said was…if you think I was moving too fast—or if I said something you want to pretend I didn’t say yet. Or at all.” He winced, nervous.
“Damien,” you sat up, shuffling to kneel in front of him and cupping his cheek, “I love you. I don’t want to pretend you never said it.” You placed a kiss on his nose, and he tackled you back onto the mattress, kissing your face.
“Thank god,” he breathed a sigh of relief, “Because I don’t think I could ever take it back.”
“You’ve said it before,” you laughed when his head dipped under your chin to suck new marks onto your neck to match the ones that he had made prior.
“I know,” he mumbled against your skin, “But it’s—this is different. I mean it…different…” He smiled, sharp teeth on display, and you laughed again, enamored.
“Good,” you played with the hair that curled against the back of his neck, “I mean it different, too.”
Damien pulled you against his chest and rolled over, leaving you to straddle his waist and rest your head on his shoulder.
“I love you,” he sighed happily.
“I love you, too.” You left kisses on his collar bone before pressing your face against his neck.
~~~
You didn’t remember falling asleep, but when you awoke the next morning you momentarily feared that it had all been a dream; that you were back in your own bed, alone, hungover and suffering from the memories of some distant fantasy.
But you were still with Damien. His arm draped over your waist and his face pressed between your shoulder blades as he snored quietly.
You could get used to this.
You leaned back against him, eager to tell him that you loved him when he woke up.
The sun was just barely up, and the minuscule amount of light that made its way through the window illuminated tiny bits of dust that passed through the rays. Zelda had made her way into the room at some point in the night, and her soft purring sent tiny vibrations over the blanket, her body nestled into the curve of Damien’s knee behind you.
You stretched, aimlessly reaching out and inevitably grabbing hold of your phone. You dimmed the brightness, scrolling through notifications you had missed the night before; tagged pictures, drunken Instagram stories, a few Venmo requests and a few more Venmo payments.
Courtney had texted you only about 20 minutes before you had woken up.
Court: How was the rest of your night 👀
Court: Does Shayne owe me $10
Court: Or did you end up going home
You let out a silent laugh, rolling your eyes a little at the betting pool that seemed to have erupted over your love life. You twisted in bed, opening your camera and zooming in on Zelda where she sat comfortably against Damien’s knee, the backdrop of his bedroom on full display. You took a picture and sent it to Courtney with no explanation, amused by your own vague confirmation that you had spent the night with Damien—and planned to do it again. Often.
You put your phone down and it started to buzz on the nightstand, lighting up with Courtney's contact picture. You considered picking it up, but then Damien’s arm tightened around you, pulling you to him while his hand spread out over your ribcage just under your breast. He kissed your back, still half-asleep, before he resumed snoring.
You decided that you would talk to Courtney later, turning over to bury your face in Damien’s chest, letting his breathing lull you back to sleep.
#damien haas#damien haas smut#damien haas fanfiction#damien haas fic#damien haas x reader#damien haas x you#smosh#smosh fanfiction#smosh fic#smosh smut#smosh games#smosh pit#smosh mouth#smosh squad#smoshblr
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Make You Mine
pairing: azriel x reader
warnings: swearing, sexual tension, toxic relationships, possessive themes, violence, ( just a fuck ton of bad decisions babe, i can’t help it, live for a feral Az )
summary:
[ part one ]
—
Sometime after dinner, once the adrenaline and underlying excitement had quelled; you’d decided to keep Damien around. While proving to be generally horrible, he also perfectly filled the place of a pawn.
A pawn in a game that only you knew you were playing.
One that pushed the line of entirely too far when you showed up at training the following day with hickeys lining the length of your neck—the same place Azriel’s lips had pressed their kisses into at dinner. The same lips you’d pictured when Damien was putting them there, hands groping at your ass as he eased the hem of your black dress over your hips.
Azriel notices you the same time you spot Nesta, striding past the shadowsinger without a hint of acknowledgement but you could feel his eyes glued to the fit of your leathers. “I thought it wasn’t your place to be out here playing with swords?” Nesta drawls out, almost bored as her opponent shuffled out of the ring nursing a bruised jaw.
“If that’s the case, then show me where I belong, Lady Death.” You peer up at her and the five finger grip on her hip, practice sword held loose in her free hand.“Unless, you can’t?”
“I’m surprised you still have enough energy to bother,” Nesta gestures to her own neck and you subconsciously tug your shirt higher. “Long night?”
A slow grin grows at the corner of your mouth, hands bracing your weight to hoist yourself into the ring and briefly you all but preen when you feel the shadowsingers rage permeating the air. Toying with Azriel’s poor restraint never ended well but surely he wouldn’t actually kill anyone. Pride overwhelms common sense and you can feel the chill of his shadows slinking around the edges of the ring as if summoned; watching, listening. “Early morning.” Nesta’s grip tightens on the hilt of her practice sword with full intent of taking you up on your offer but when her lips part no words form.
Instead, she makes a noise, not quite a scoff but not exactly a hum either. “So, there is something decent about the company you keep after all.” You don’t take it offensively and you’re certain Nesta’s readying herself for more but it never comes. A brow raises, head tilting to the side but the silence makes sense when the towering figure behind you blocks the warm sun from bare shoulders.
“Actually,” The husky tone tickles the shell of your ear. “—you’ll be sparring with me today.”
“I’d rather not.”
Azriel’s hand curls around your arm, holding firm but not hard enough that you can’t break free if you tried—if you wanted to. You refuse his gaze, focusing on anything but him and his centuries of trained muscles stuffed beneath the fabric of his fighting leathers. He’d ditched the jacket, tunic too, both tossed in a heap near Cassian. Left in nothing but the sleeveless undershirt that leaves absolutely nothing to the imagination; broadcasting the sharp lines of his neck and the soft curls of inky tattoos that resided there. “You don’t get to make the decisions here anymore,” His free hand raises to cup your jaw, tilting your head to the side and he can’t fight his body’s natural reaction to snarl at the very thought of another man’s mouth on your skin. “Not when you keep proving that you make such poor choices.”
You jerk away from his grasp, twisting out of the grip on your arm and a foot smacks at the back of his knees. Finally looking at him—looking down at him, Azriel sees the fire in your eye; the hatred and anger. The betrayal at his hands and the person you had to become because of it. “You have no right to judge my choices.” It’s barely a whisper, concealing as much as you could with so many eyes watching—so many ears listening. “You mean nothing to me.”
“We both know that isn’t true.” Curse your body for reacting to his touch; warm hands sliding up to cup at your waist. The smell of him sinking into your nostrils and seducing every nerve like a walking aphrodisiac.
“I think I have feelings for Elain.”
The reminder snaps you back to reality, hand reaching out to smack him clear across his face. His eyes lower to slits, right cheek going red but you’re too pissed to even register the stinging pain in your palm. “Fine,” Azriel says too casually, jaw ticking with barely there restraint. “We can play this your way.”
It’s gone quiet save for the two of you, the others pausing their fighting to see the scene unfold, waiting to witness the spymaster make an example of you. Certainly, they must’ve forgotten that you’d been doing this since you were old enough to wield a sword; fighting males bigger than Azriel.
Fuck feelings when you had a point to prove.
“I’m not here to play with you, Az. I just want to fight.” It was a cheap shot; using the stupid little nickname to your advantage but his body always reacted so obediently to his name on your tongue. He’d just barely gotten back to his feet before you strike at him, throwing a quick succession of jabs his way in a style that he didn’t teach you.
Maybe all of those weeks away traveling the other courts after his confession had left marks that he hadn’t learned yet.
Something about you that Azriel didn’t know.
The very thought leaves him distracted a second longer than he’d have ever allowed if it was anyone else. He’s quick to recover, blocking and dodging, throwing hits of his own but eventually you grow tired of the refrained punches—the obviously subdued responses to your rage and it only adds more fuel to the fire. “If you aren’t even going to try and be a challenge then just yield so I can spar with Nesta like I planned.”
He hadn’t reached for his sword once, not a single finger twitched to grip at the daggers holstered at his hips and sure, hand-to-hand was fine but with Azriel it felt too close; too intimate. “Is that what you want?” He takes a step closer and immediately your face turns away from him, refusing to acknowledge him or that low tone he took with you and only you. “A challenge?”
“I don’t want anything from you.” Except to have been the first choice. One that he was sure in. Not second guessing if every special moment had only felt like that for you. “Not anymore.” The thought alone has your skin flushing with embarrassment, completely turning around to hide but Azriel just shifts to accommodate.
“You don’t mean that.” There’s worry etched in his brow, skewing the whole canvas of his face and it was like your soul wanted nothing more than to appease him. Battering and clawing at your bones, scrambling for the freedom soothe every line and give him everything he’d ever dreamed of and more.
“I want to.” Azriel watches the stone wall you put up, rounding up all that love and adoration, cradling at the sobbing affection that no longer had a place to call home. It takes everything in you to leave it all, to ignore the desire to toss aside better judgement and fall into the need. The softness in your eyes dies with the squaring of your shoulders as you retake your stance, regarding him as nothing more than one of the recruits. “Fight me or leave the ring—I don’t exactly have all day.”
For a moment, you think he’s going to leave. Forfeit and grant you a worthy opportunity but that is not the case.
You should’ve known better.
Azriel’s determination was a force to be reckoned with, skilled swipes of his sword followed by combat moves he only saved for the battlefield. A particularly rough strike is blocked but it still makes you stumble. “Is this challenge enough for you?” Azriel demands, swords interlocked, faces so close you could smell the minty scent of toothpaste on his breath. Golden eyes are piercing under the suns rays, barely concealing how impressed he truly was with the way you’d kept up. Swift and limber, light on your feet and efficient in every step taken but there’s a certain chaos to your moves—something fresh and unpredictable. “This right here,” The fight, the passion, the frantic thrum of your blood rushing in your ears from the pure adrenaline that erupted at the sight of him. “—is why we will never be over.” He’s not even breaking a sweat, syllables breaching perfectly kissable lips while looking like he belonged on a throne in the deepest chasms of Hel. “I know he doesn’t make you feel like this—not like I do.”
“Stop.” It takes more effort now; balancing keeping up that stone wall and maintaining your composure under his attacks. A deep breath to settle your thoughts and you completely drop your sword, effortlessly switching to something more hands on.
“Don’t you see that I can���t?” The restraint in his voice slips, a vein bulging in his neck and your fingers scream for you to reach out and trace it. “Not until you see that he will never be able to do for you what I can.” Azriel’s shadows swirl around your arms, clamping them close to your body as he pulls you into him—his chest on your back and those hands attempting to disarm you. Your breath hitches when you feel the trace of warm skin down the length of your holsters and the weapons fastened to them. A barely there that sends your body in a pure frenzy; one that demands all things Azriel until the end of time. “Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten what it felt like—you and me.” The stiff length of his cock pressed into the curve of your spine and it takes everything in you not to actually moan. “Just say the words and I’ll remind you. Right here in front of everyone if that’s what you wish.”
Do it. Your thoughts shout. Do it. You know you want to.
“I think I have feelings for Elain.”
Sharp jabs of your elbow to his abdomen. A hand that clamps down around the thick bulk of his arm and all that manly strength is used against him when he’s flipped right over your shoulder. Legs straddle at his waist, one blade shoved at his throat while the other pressed gently at his chest. “No, he doesn’t make me feel how you do.” You confess, breathless and your shoulders slump ever so slightly. “But, at least with him, I know I was his first choice. At least with him,” Your words shake and Azriel can’t handle the way you have to force the composure. “—I never have to worry about being second best.” The swords clatter to the ground, not bothering to retrieve them as you get back to your feet.
You’re nearly at the edge of the ring when he calls out, still on the ground and propped up on his elbows. “He doesn’t deserve you.”
“Neither do you, Az.”
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