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pedropascallme · 5 months ago

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Learn A Thing (Or Two)

Pairing: professor!Damien x f!Reader

Summary: "He caught your gaze as he continued his lesson, and you tried not to crack under the knowledge that he, too, was waiting for the clock to strike four o’clock. As he spoke in the fast, calculated manner that usually came about when he was lost in thought, you decided to take a small risk, instead of dwelling morosely on the way the class was eating away at your time with him."

Warnings: SMUT (18+ MINORS DNI) implied age gap (Damien is his actual current age, reader is 20-22), student/teacher relationship, biting, spanking, p in v, oral (f receiving), dom/sub dynamics, brattamer!Damien, dirty talk, degradation, praise, mild exhibitionism, one (1) singular use of the word 'daddy,' reader gets gagged, mentions of German literature (obviously), I have never thought about refractory periods ever, if I missed anything please let me know!

AN: He's baaaaack!!!! This was inspired by as ask from the lovely, one and only @hedoublehell !! It took longer than it should’ve for a fic of this caliber BUT it is done now and it’s for YOU!!!!

Damien was a skilled lecturer. He was capable of holding an audience of students at full attention for hours on end, never misspeaking, and only occasionally finding himself veering into digression.

You loved hearing him talk, hearing his voice echo around the fluorescence of the lecture hall while his words flowed with ease and enthusiasm. What’s more, you liked the way he looked doing it: button-down shirt hugging his arms in all the right places, leaning back nonchalantly on the table in front of the room. His head tilted to the side as he listened to someone in the back row speak their mind, and you enjoyed the glimpse you got of his neck straining at his tie.

All of it made you more than just a little aroused, and you could feel yourself beginning to slump in your chair. You were happy to listen and nod along, but displeased that he insisted on using up the full two hours of allotted class time.

Fridays were the worst to get through. By the time you got to his class, you were burnt out and ready for the weekend to begin, itching for the day to wrap up so that you could get him all to yourself for the next sixty-or-so hours. It was a little selfish, you could acknowledge that, and perhaps a bit immature, though you felt anybody in your position would feel the same way—you couldn’t just bag a man like Dr. Damien C. Haas and not spend all your time waiting for a moment of stillness so that you could grab him by the collar and kiss him until your lips were puffy.

You weighed your options: engage in the conversation happening around you, sit pretty and listen well, then jump on him the moment you got him alone; or act out to make the time go by faster. You'd done it before, yearning for him and making it a problem for the both of you while he tried to keep his composure at the front of the room. And though he could chastise you for it, you knew he liked when you got a little bratty. No matter how many times he’d punished you for acting up in class, talking back and arguing his point a little too zealously in an effort to make him slip up, you knew he’d be content to see you do it again.

He caught your gaze as he continued his lesson, and you tried not to crack under the knowledge that he, too, was waiting for the clock to strike four o’clock. As he spoke in the fast, calculated manner that usually came about when he was lost in thought, you decided to take a small risk, instead of dwelling morosely on the way the class was eating away at your time with him.

You waited for his eyes to flicker over to you again, before slowly uncrossing your legs. You flashed a glimpse of your clothed core. Removing your gaze from him, you opted instead to glance back at the clock, as if to remind him of the time constraint and what awaited him. You crossed your legs again.

Any outsider would've seen it as something as simple as you shifting to get comfortable, but you saw Damien squeeze his hand around the edge of the desk he reclined on. You knew the gears in his mind were turning, steadily thinking up an appropriate consequence for your action.

You played with the hem of your skirt, the picture of innocence. He cleared his throat, calling your name. You straightened back up nonchalantly, fingers still toying with your skirt.

“Did you want to say something?” He cocked a brow, taunting you silently. He was daring you to give yourself away, to misbehave again. Not as a student—he knew you’d never risk a smudge on your reputation of academic prowess, and he appreciated and respected that—but as a lover.

“Oh, yeah, actually,” you played coy, tapping your pen on your desk before bringing it up to let the cap rest on your bottom lip, “You keep saying that the Ring cycle is a marvel of German artistry, but isn’t it true that Wagner was more inspired by the Norse sagas than he was by the German literature?” You put the pen down and watched as it rolled over your desk. You sucked your bottom lip between your teeth and made eyes at him. “So couldn’t you say that, overall, it’s really the epitome of Western European storytelling?” Again, you uncrossed your legs, keeping them spread for just a fraction longer than you had before. You wanted to ensure that he got a good look before you daintily crossed your ankles.

The way his jaw ticked said everything. You just smiled, waiting for his answer.

He’d been mistaken to call on you; he put all his cards on the table. He had to give you his undivided attention, unable to tear his eyes from the space between your thighs while under the pretence of hearing you out.

“Well—well yes…but I think it's easy to see how it can be both important to Germany and to Europe at large,” he smiled, collecting himself and his thoughts, “Though you do bring up an interesting point; Der Ring was a real turning point in the understanding of a quote-unquote Germanic culture as it’s understood in history today.” Several hands went up around the room, and even as he scanned the class, his focus was still on you.

You checked the clock again and let your expression speak for you; we’ll be here all day if you let us keep talking about it, you smiled, wouldn’t it be easier to deal with me now, before I get even more distracting?

“You know...it’s gorgeous outside,” Damien sighed, glancing at his watch, “Let’s continue this conversation on Monday.”

You’d won the battle, and the taste of your victory was made sweeter by the knowledge that he’d be making you pay for it soon.

“Don’t we have forty minutes left?” Someone behind you blurted, and you heard a few sighs around the room, half-muted by the sound of bags zipping shut.

“Happy Friday,” Damien shrugged, and the room was soon buzzing with gracious thank yous tossed haphazardly over the shoulders of students as they dashed out to the hallway, eager to begin their weekend. “You still have to do the assigned reading!” He called after them, and several of the students he was more familiar with laughed him off.

You pretended to follow the example your peers had set, shoving your things into your bag. You rose from your chair, and Damien knocked on your desk gently, leaving his knuckles on the wood when you looked up at him.

“I’d love to hear more about the perspective you shared,” he played as the doting professor, and not the man that wanted to fuck you where you stood, “Why don’t you come up to my office so we can talk.” He began to walk up the aisle that led out of the room, before shooting a glance back at you, “Unless you have other plans?” His smile was wide and inviting, but his eyes gave away his desires, lighting a fire in your stomach. You slung your bag over your shoulder, trailing behind him.

You caught up quickly, shuffling along next to him through the long, empty hall.

“Professor,” you were saccharine, purring, “Did you dismiss class early just so you could spend time with little old me?”

“You’re being a brat,” he whispered through gritted teeth, placing a hand on your lower back as he walked you to his office.

“You love it,” you shot back; punishment was imminent no matter how badly you acted out—within reason—and you were having too much fun to lose the attitude now. “Unless that’s just your campus ID in your pocket.”

“That, and I’m happy to see you,” he muttered, unlocking the door to his office and all but pulling you into the room behind him.

You stood with your hands clasped in front of you, watching him lock the door and awaiting further instruction. He tossed his keys onto the desk, and they landed on the wood with a tinny sound that echoed slightly. You squinted, momentarily lost in the noise, which left you unprepared for the way he came up behind you. Suddenly, he had an arm wrapped around your midriff, his other hand flying upwards and gripping your jaw, leaving you to lean your head back against his shoulder.

“So impatient,” he nipped at your ear, and you whimpered at the low timbre of his voice. “You know that?”

“You were the one who called class off early, Damien.” You felt his fingers press harder against your cheeks, the flesh of your mouth rubbing against the dull outer grooves of your teeth. “Is it because you couldn’t wait till we got home?” You pushed your ass back against him. You let a whine catch in your throat when you felt the way his cock was straining against the confines of his pants. “Needed to drop everything for me now?”

His thumb stroked your cheek. “College building is the best place to teach you a lesson.” He kissed your temple, “I think someone needs to learn some manners.”

“Yeah…” You tilted your head back further against him, trying to find his eyes.

“What was that?”

“Yes, sir.” You quickly corrected yourself. You sighed happily when you felt the hand he had on your waist creep under the hem of your shirt, grabbing at your bare skin.

“Do you need me to remind you how to behave?” He leaned down to ghost his lips over your neck, “Help you learn some patience. Teach you not to flash me while I’m trying to do my job?”

“Yes—yes, sir,” his hand had found its way to your chest, and he tweaked at your nipples alternately. “I’ll be such a good girl.”

He huffed a laugh through his nose. “Good girls don’t show their teachers their panties.” He tightened his grip on one of your breasts, and you hoped that each individual finger would leave an imprint deep enough that you could make out his fingerprints. "Especially not while they're wearing them."

“So take them off for me…” You whispered, lips parted and finding yourself less and less able to ignore the way his cock pressed into you.

He took a deep breath behind you, exhaling a soft growl.

“Please, sir,” you knew it would take more than that to get him where you needed him most, but you were more than willing to go through the motions. Tentatively, he removed himself from you, guiding you forward to face the bookshelf that took up the entirety of the far wall in the office.

“Put your arms up, baby,” he instructed, a hand on your elbow guiding you to stretch until your palms rested on the wood, your fingers bending to hold the position. He pulled you back by your hips, forcing you to bend. He pushed a knee between your legs to spread them, and when you felt his thigh against your cunt, you mewled. “You ok? Do you think you can stay like this?” He dragged a hand down your side.

“Yeah,” you mumbled into your shoulder, “I like this.”

He nodded. “Good. Good, baby. That’s my girl.” He pressed a kiss to the back of your head before kneeling behind you.

Damien flipped up your skirt, placing both hands on either side of your ass and kneading gently before he let them drag downwards over your thighs. You moaned loudly when he bit down onto the supple flesh, and although the sound was intoxicating to him, he knew the risk it posed.

“Have to be quiet for me, baby,” he reminded you, “What would people think if they heard your pretty noises coming from my office?”

“I don’t—” you gasped when he bit into you again, “Probably think you’re a good lay.” That earned you a spank on the thigh.

“Or they’d just think that you’re a whore,” he ran two fingers between your legs and over your clothed cunt, groaning at the feeling of the soaked fabric. He pressed the fingers gently against your clit. “Are you a whore, baby?”

“Just—just for you, sir.” You squirmed at the friction.

He spanked you again, and you yelped much louder than you should have. His fingers moved from your clit, both hands working in tandem to slip your panties down your legs. He rubbed a hand against your calf, helping you step out of the fabric once it had pooled around your feet, and taking the panties in his fist. He stood, moving to stand next to you.

“You’ve been awfully talkative today,” he brought his thumb to your mouth, and you sucked obediently on it while he spoke, swishing your tongue back and forth. “I think I should shut you up. Is that what you need, baby? Do you need daddy’s help to keep quiet?” You nodded, and the smile that etched itself onto his face looked downright devious. “Open. Open wide.”

You let his thumb slip from between your lips, opening your mouth and letting your tongue loll out just enough that the tip of the muscle hung over your bottom lip. He placed a hand on your jaw, keeping your mouth open for him while he stuffed your panties inside. The fabric sapped your mouth of any moisture momentarily, before your salivary glands began working double time to combat the dryness.

When you looked up at him, Damien let a moan slip past his parted lips. “God, look at you,” he let his hand slip from your face, and it settled on the nape of your neck, “Pretty little slut, gagged with her own soaked panties…” His hand moved from your neck, running down your spine. He watched you arch under his palm, “You’re going to be quiet for me now, right?”

“Y—ss—r,” you choked on the wadded-up fabric in your mouth, words meshing together, garbled.

He moved behind you once more, kneeling so that his face was mere centimeters from your core. He grabbed handfuls of your ass, kneading the flesh with both hands as he spread you apart. The tips of his thumbs barely grazed your entrance where they sat on either side of your slit, pulling and pushing the meat of your ass. All at once, he pressed his mouth to you, lips parting for his tongue to swoop over the moisture escaping from your hole. You gasped, throwing your head back and letting out weak sounds, muted by the lace between your teeth.

“So good,” he licked his lips, savoring your flavor, “God, it tastes so fucking good, baby. I think you get sweeter every time.” He dove back in, fingers pressing into your thighs as he traced your folds with his tongue. “And so fucking wet, Jesus Christ—did you get wet like this just teasing me?”

You nodded, flimsy moans escaping the obstruction of the panties as you arched further into him. You tried to get him to use his fingers, to fill you up with him and let you feel the stretch that you loved so much, but this wasn’t for your pleasure—it was for him. All day he’d been waiting to have you to himself, all day he’d been watching you act out, and now he just wanted to bury himself in you; coat himself in your need and remind you that he was in charge. He needed to get his fix of the delicacy between your legs.

The wet noises that filled the room were pornographic, and if people could hear it from behind the locked door, you knew they would have no questions about what was happening. Damien licked stripes up your slit, punching his tongue into you, lapping at just the right spot. He was enjoying himself; groans left his throat in the moments he could bear parting from your core, muttering your praises between flicks of his tongue.

He stood back up; the buckle of his belt jangled, followed by the sound of his fly coming undone, and then his cock was pressed against you. The warm, taut skin of his length slid between your ass, and you sighed gleefully, jutting your hips back against him. The thought alone of having him inside you made your clit pulse.

“Think you can take it like this? Without me getting you ready with my fingers?” He asked, his voice a sinful whisper. You didn’t know how to respond; you could, you knew you could—but even if you couldn’t, you would try. You made a noise of uncertainty, wiggling your hips for him. “Yeah, you’re going to.”

You bit down on the fabric in your mouth when he pushed into you. With one fast, hard thrust, he bottommed out immediately, and you cried out, still muffled by your makeshift gag. He groaned behind you, letting you get used to the familiar, wonderful stretch of his cock as he watched you swallow his length.

“Good girl,” he commended you, chest heaving, “Look at that, so tight, taking all of me.” He pulled his hips back slowly, his hands finding your waist. “Knew you could do it.” He thrust back into you, just as hard as he had the first time. You were thrown forward slightly, elbows knocking against the bookshelf. You squeaked, the sudden ache in your arms and legs countered by the way his cockhead nudged the most delicate spots inside of you.

When he set the rough pace you'd been hoping for, your moans became more wanton. You found it harder and harder to stay quiet; the spit-saturated panties that hung from your lips sagged on your tongue and became more malleable, and any noise you let out easily found its way around the cloth.

Damien squeezed your thigh. “Quiet, baby,” he cooed, “Much easier to get fired on a tenure track than you might think.” He was laughing, purposefully channeling his energy into finding your g-spot so that he could watch you battle with your voice as you tried to mute the effects of the pleasure he was bringing you.

You let your head fall to the side, resting it on your shoulder as all of your attention fell on the way his cock pressed against your walls. “’M s—r—eey,” you tried to use your manners, the material in your mouth keeping you from engaging in proper etiquette.

He delivered an especially sharp thrust, and your knees bent beneath you. Maybe he took pity on you, maybe he just wanted to make sure you stayed still, but he reached forward, hand coming to a halt just as the tips of his fingers grazed your chin. “Open, baby.” You did as he said, and he removed the makeshift gag from for mouth. “Good girl, keep it open for me.”

He unraveled the panties, cold and wet in his hand after soaking up all the moisture from your tongue. He shook them back out into their original shape before twisting them into something more akin to a rope. He looped your head through his arms, both hands holding either side of the now stretched-out panties as he placed them back into your mouth. He kept his grasp on them, tugging you back against him for leverage to fuck into you.

With your head pulled back, you were forced to arch as far as you could manage, resulting in a delectable change of angle. You could feel all of him; every ridge and vein dragging within you as the tip of his cock repeatedly licked at just the right spot, causing you an overwhelming surge of bliss despite the slight sting at your cervix.

You knew you couldn’t scream, but you wanted to. You wanted so intensely for him to hear how much you were enjoying the way he manhandled you. You let whimpers fall quietly from your lips, gnawing at the gag as he dragged your cunt over his cock, pulling you into him. Your arms, still pressed against the shelf above you, threatened to drop as they struggled from lack of blood flow, but you were too lost in the haze of lust as it circled your core to recognize any discomfort in your fingers.

Damien pulled you backwards with the gag, your ass flush against his hips, his cock stretching your walls. A wave of your arousal gushed over him. The gasp you let out was drowned out by a rumble from behind you, rising from his chest; proud of himself for being able to make you respond like that, proud of you for being able to take what he gave you so well. He repeated the motion, nearly pulling out of you, before quickly pushing himself back inside the waiting warmth of your cunt. His moan came out rushed, tinged with amazement, and you wanted to bottle the noise.

“Fuck—” He removed your gag, tossing the fabric onto the floor. You licked your chapped lips, drooling. “Need to touch you, baby.” He placed his hands on your hips, leaning forward to kiss between your shoulder blades. He paused, pressing his cheek against your back, “If you make a fucking sound, you don’t get to cum. Ok?” His lips felt soft against your back, his words cutting, his voice sweet. “I’ll fuck your pretty mouth instead.”

You nodded, mouth shut but eyes wide, afraid he’d make good on that promise and leave you high and dry. Even though you loved going down on him, feeling the weight of his cock on your tongue as he pressed into the back of your throat, you thought you’d explode if he pulled out of you now.

“Good girl.” You could feel his nails making crescents on your skin, his hands hungry for you after being allocated to holding your gag for so long. He removed his grasp from your hips, trailing his hands upward to slip beneath your shirt and grab your breasts. He moaned when his palms grazed your hardened nipples, quickly moving to roll them between his fingers. You bit back a whine, closing your eyes and enjoying the way he played with you.

His pace was unforgiving, and slick dripped from you to create a filthy sound that served to heighten that of skin-against-skin. You tried to focus your breathing, fighting the moans that threatened to escape your mouth as it hung agape.

But when his hand began to sink lower, fingers dancing over your stomach until they fell to your clit, you let out a strangled noise, unable to hide the pleasure that shot through your veins the moment the pads of his fingers made contact with the swollen bud.

"Fuck—like—just like that, oh my god," you disregarded his rules and his warnings, unable to contain your delight.

Damien was quick to deliver a sharp smack to your ass. “What did I tell you, hm?” Another spank, this time to your thigh, "What did I say?" His hand moved from your clit, palm pressing into your stomach.

“N-no sou—nd,” you choked out a whisper, “I’m sorry, sir—I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I’ll be g—be a good girl for you, sir. Promise, I’m sorry.” Tears welled in your eyes and you bit your bottom lip; you craved so badly to cum on his cock that you’d say anything to make sure he didn’t fulfill his prior threat of disallowing you to finish.

He bent forward, pressing a hand to your cheek and forcing your face against the bookshelf. “What else are you sorry for, baby?”

“Being a br—at,” you grit your teeth, swallowing a sob of pleasure as you quietly moaned your apologies, the hardcover book spines pushing against your cheek. “I was a—I was a brat, I was acting like a whore, sir. I’m sorry, I’m reall—y sorry.”

His strokes became slower, more intentional as he pressed his chest against you. He crowded you against the shelf, drawing his hips back barely an inch before gently thrusting back into you. It did nothing to relax the fire in your lower stomach, still hitting the delicate spot on your front wall that made your vision go white around the edges.

“I could stop right now,” he cooed, voice quiet, cloying, “Leave you right on the edge.”

You tried to shake your head, eyes darting back to throw him a pathetic look from your peripheral in a hushed plea. “No…” The forced silence you’d endured had caused your voice to go hoarse, “Please.”

“I know, baby,” he pulled out of you until just the head of his cock rested against your entrance, barely penetrating you, “You wouldn’t like that at all.”

“Please, sir,” a tear slid down your cheek. You needed to feel all of him. You needed him to feel all of you; to know the heights of pleasure you were able to reach thanks to him. “God, please, I’ll do anything.”

“Anything?” He mused, voice gravelly, still moving his hips just enough to make you clench around nothing, the head of his cock teasing your entrance. “Then shut up and take it.” He punctuated his sentence with a rough thrust, spearing you on his cock and watching your eyelids flutter over the whites of your eyes as your pupils rolled back. You opened your mouth to scream, before quickly pursing your lips. “You know I’d never do that to you, baby,” he panted out behind you, moving the hand he had pressed against your cheek and opting now to hold your hips steady, “Can’t deny myself the opportunity to see my pretty girl cum for me.”

You let out a shaky breath, smiling against the fabric-bound books you rested against, sure to have indentations on your cheek when you moved. Damien’s grip was tight, but every thrust still managed to make you veer forward. You felt the coil in your abdomen tighten, a spring being pressed down into your core.

He knew you were close, the telltale flutter of you around him and the dazed expression on your face gave you away. His hand sunk back down over your stomach and his fingers brushed your clit. He watched you knit your brow and clench your jaw as you tried, straining, to follow his orders.

“Good girl,” he pressed two fingers to you, “Wish you could see how beautiful you look, finally listening to me.” He lessened the pressure he applied to your clit, and you whined, “Are you going to keep listening, baby?” He pressed a kiss to your shoulder. Pushing himself as far into you as your anatomy would allow, he paused his ministrations; his fingers hovering over your clit, his hips still. “Gonna stop being a fucking brat? Stop acting out in class—stop acting like a slut and trying to distract me?”

"Mhm," you nodded vigorously, lips parted to allow the panted breaths you took in and out.

“I don’t think you’re telling me the truth, baby,” he smiled against your skin, and you whimpered helplessly beneath him. “But—fuck—” he felt your cunt squeeze down on him tighter, “But I wanna see you cum for me, anyway. Taking it so good.” You breathed a sigh of relief, and he chuckled, pressing firm on your clit and beginning to move again, “Keep being good for me, baby—come on.” He urged, rubbing circles over your clit, his other hand keeping your waist in an iron grip as he rolled against you.

The spring that had been coiled so perfectly within you snapped. You felt your thighs tensing, limbs shaking as the chill of your orgasm washed over you like a cold, heavy rain after a drought.

“That’s it,” Damien heaped praise onto you, still rocking his hips into you, relishing the way you pulsed around his cock, “That’s my good girl. What do you say?”

“Tha—nk you, sir,” you croaked, “Thank y-you for letting me cum.” You felt dizzy with glee, your body in a happy medium between heavy and light. You relaxed against the shelf, trying to savor the way his cock continued to drag within you, heightening the already overwhelming pleasure that ran through you from head to toe.

“Fuck—you’re welcome, baby,” he moaned as it became increasingly harder to stave off his own high. “Christ—shit, you feel so good,” his movements became more frantic, “Gonna cum, baby.”

“Yes—fuck, yes. Please,” you moaned, pushing your hips against him in time with his thrusts, “Inside. Please, inside.”

“You don’t deserve it,” he growled, “Be good for me like this, I’ll fill you up as much as you want later.” His hands were all over you, frenzied sweeps of his fingers grabbed at as much of you as he could, “But you don’t deserve it after your fucking attitude today.”

“Fu—god, please,” you knew that any effort in trying to convince him was futile, but you couldn’t help but beg.

“Gonna paint you, baby. I’m gonna paint you with my cum.” He was groaning through his words, hands finding purchase on the globe of your ass and squeezing hard, “Cum all over your ass and let it drip down your legs, get your pretty skirt all messy.”

His snarled tone and the frenzied motion of his hips had you keening for him, and just as the fire of your first orgasm had fizzled out, you could feel your second approaching.

“And you’re going to take it, aren’t you? Gonna thank me and beg for more.” Damien was smiling, voice smooth, but his movements proved how hungry he was for his own release.

“Ye—s,” you moaned, “Ple—ase.” His words made you feel weak in the knees, unable to form a coherent thought after hearing the filth he muttered to you. He felt so deep in this position; his cockhead pressed kisses to your cervix while his balls, drenched in your slick, smacked heavy against your clit.

“Bratty fucking cumslut.” He moaned, and it was all you needed to reach the apex of pleasure once more. Damien cursed behind you, too caught up in his own enjoyment of the moment to have expected your second orgasm. He delayed his own gratification for a beat longer to enjoy the way your walls throbbed around him, to feel the way you trembled.

He pulled out seconds later, fisting his cock and spilling onto you with a throaty moan, watching intently as his spend dripped over your ass and down towards your shaking thighs.

“Fuck,” he muttered after regulating his breathing. Once he had tucked himself back into his pants, he swiped a finger through a rope of his cum on your ass, rubbing it into your skin. He brought his hand to your lips and you licked the digit clean, humming around him, not missing the way his breath hitched when you circled your tongue around the pad of it.

When you released his finger with a wet pop, he placed his lips on yours, wrapping both arms around your midriff. His only thoughts now centered on showering you in affection; he led you in a soft, fond kiss, mouths closed to enhance the tenderness between the two of you.

He held you tight, letting you curl into his chest. He reached to flip your skirt back down, and the fabric clung to the mess on your thighs. Slowly, he backed up, arms still wrapped around you when he lowered the both of you into a chair by the desk, pulling you into his lap and petting your hair.

“Is it bad that I think it’s…it's kinda hot that you have the spine of Tristan Und Isolde indented into your cheek?” He chuckled, fingers coming up to trail a feather-light touch over the texture that had etched itself into your skin.

“No, actually,” you laughed quietly, shoulders bouncing, “I was hoping you’d dig my new look. Thinking of doing the cover of the German to English dictionary on the other cheek.”

“God, you really know how to drive a guy wild.” Damien pressed kisses to the top of your head, and you hummed.

After a beat of silence spent nuzzling one another, he cleared his throat, “Was that alright?” The biting tone in his voice was gone, replaced by tender whispers and soft kisses aimed at your scalp.

“You always ask,” you muttered into his neck, “And I’m always more than alright.”

“I—I know,” he dropped his chin onto the crown of your head, “But what kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn’t check with you…”

You pressed your face into him, smiling against his skin. “Boyfriend?” You echoed, and you felt him tense a little beneath you.

“Is that—I just kind of figured…but if not, that’s fine, we don’t have to—”

“Boyfriend…” You giggled, and you could feel his heartbeat pick up against you where your body pressed into his. “Took you long enough.”

“Yeah, well,” he laughed quietly, “You’re a little intimidating.”

“Intimidating?” You perked up, grabbing at his cheek, “Your cum is running down my ass. I'm effectively glued to your thigh.”

He groaned, leaning his forehead against yours. “I’ll do laundry when we get home.” He stared at you for a moment, eyes up close gazing into your own. "You know, even when you only do it to act out, you say some really fucking smart stuff."

"Yeah, well...I learned it all from my favorite professor." You giggled

“Pretty, smart, perfect girl,” his eyes closed as he sighed.

“I'm all yours,” you confirmed. Your eyes closed, too, as exhaustion began to catch up with you. Damien let out a happy noise. You spent a few minutes contentedly slouching against him. Then you forced your eyes open, leaning on his shoulder and pressing a kiss to his cheek, “Let’s get out of here."

“You have somewhere to be?” He smiled, teasing. He helped you ease yourself onto your feet.

“Yeah,” you turned to face him, straightening out, “Gotta do laundry with my boyfriend.”

"Well, then" you watched him puff up slightly, tongue between his teeth as he grinned, "We should get you home to the lucky guy."

#damien haas #damien haas smut #damien haas fanfiction #damien haas fic #damien haas x reader #damien haas x you #smosh fanfiction #smosh fic

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razorblade180 · 8 months ago

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In their blood

Ruby:*looks at belly* How cool do you think our kid is going to be?

Jaune:They will be half me so your dna have a lot of ground to cover.

Ruby:Hey! You’re awesome. There’s a good chance this rugrat will be taller than me! It hurts thinking about it.

Jaune:You’ll just tug them down by the collar like you do me. They might be chaotic.

Ruby:Oh definitely! But that’s what makes us great. I just want them growing big and strong. Deep down I know they’re going to change the world in their own special way.

xxxxxx

Reporter: In today’s breaking news, the city of Argus suffered a major grimm attack that has left the entire city in fear. This catastrophe seems to follow a somewhat similar trend of smaller villages abruptly disappearing. The link between them? Black roses and vines being left in the area and on precious symbols of peace.

Ruby and Jaune watch silently as the camera focuses on Pyrrha’s statue wrapped in flowers, its pressure cracking the stone.

Reporter:Casualties were kept low thanks to the amazing effort the local military presence and the stroke of luck that was Carmine Arc Rose. We tried getting insight on the situation from her but all she had to say was, “The criminals responsible will have my undivided attention.”

Ruby:….

Jaune:*turns tv off* Let’s hitch a ride. She’ll be there for awhile.

Ruby:Kay….

xxxxx

Dustin:*holding duffle bag* I’m baaaaack

Cinder:Did you complete your task?

He reaches into the bag and tosses two broken prosthetic legs on the ground, then pulls out a pair of emerald green guns. Cinder can’t help but hide her smile.

Cinder:Was it was for you?

Dustin:No. Illusions are vexing, but that’s what made it interesting.

Cinder:Heh, you truly are your mother’s son.

Dustin:Heh…as if I would know anything about that.

#rwby #ruby rose #cinder fall #jaune arc #carmine arc rose #dustin arc rose #rwbabies #rwby lancaster #rwby rosebud

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starlightsuffered · 5 months ago

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Monster under the Bed

Info - CNC, monster Timothée, skull fuck, Dom Timmy, oral (male receiving), dark Timothée, supernatural

I'd been up so many nights lately, tossing and turning and unable to sleep. I wished dearly that I knew what it was that felt like it lingered on the edge of my vision.

It wasn't as if this was a new house. I'd moved into the dimly lit apartment three years ago. I'd never felt the presence I felt now.

All I could figure was that I was just feeling a bit off because l'd been on holiday. I'd saved up to visit Europe just like l'd always dreamed. I'd hit up Ireland, Italy, and France. It had been a whirlwind adventure.

Only one thing had been missing. I hadn't had any sort of one night stand or romance. I'd hoped for a couple day fling. Ravaging one another in a foreign hotel room, ordering room service because we wanted to spend every moment we could wringing pleasure from one another.

I'd tried with many a handsome fellow, but it didn't work. In fact, when I began to talk they almost seemed scared. Sure I was American, but that didn't mean I was holding bombs on myself.

I would see a man, and smile. He'd saunter over to me. I would place my hand on his chest or cup his jaw. He would open his mouth and say his name in a delicious accent. Then, it would be my turn. I would open my mouth and whoever I was holding would go pale. They would back away as I uttered my name. Unrecognisable emotion would always fill their eyes. They'd go stumbling away as if I'd screamed at them.

When I got home, I expected to be able to relax. I couldn't. I felt like I was being watched. I attributed it to having been around so many people, and now being alone. However, the feeling was lasting days.

I felt nervous all the time. It seemed like there was something or someone lingering on the edge of my vision.

Whenever I turned, nothing was there. Things were just as they were supposed to be. I couldn't figure out why my skin prickled so badly when I was alone in my house.

I sighed and laid my head down. My eyes were too heavy to keep reading fanfiction. I had desperately hoped that the fluff would make me feel better. I still felt extremely uncomfortable.

I tried to slow the pounding of my heart. I heard a scuffling and I shot up. I looked around warily. I didn't see anything out of order. My head was playing tricks on me surely.

"Just stop y/n, you're being paranoid," I sighed. I flopped down onto the bed.

"Are you?" Came a dark voice. My eyes sprung open. Inches from my face was the most horribly lovely creature I'd ever seen. Something about him was other worldly even if he did appear to be human shaped.

My heart was skipping beats as the feral thing drooled saliva down onto my face. Warmth pooled in my core and I didn't know why or how that was happening. The breath of the monster washed over me. To my surprise it didn't smell rank or putrid. It smelled like expensive wine and cologne and a warm crackling fire.

Suddenly, I was too hot to stay still. I was prickling all over. I wanted to move or to blink away the being in front of me.

"Y-you've been in my house," | gulped.

"Clever girl," he said. His neck cracked as he turned his head to the side.

"Pretty girl," he hissed. His hand caressed my cheek. His skin was cold even though he radiated heat.

"What are you?"

"Oh?" He chuckled. "Not who? What?"

"I-I can tell you aren't real. I don't even know if this is real," I said shakily.

"Oh darling, this is terribly real," he said with mock sympathy. My heart was pounding so harshly it almost hurt.

Blood roared in my ears. My heaving bosom pressed against the lean chest of the beast.

"You let something in when you came baaaaack," he said in an alarming sing song voice.

"What?" I breathed.

"Something dark," he giggled madly. "Something wild, and fierce and immortal."

"Oh," I gasped as his long body pressed against mine.

"I am the madness on the fringes of your mind. I am the devil on your shoulder. I am the nightmare that won't let you go. I am the monster under your bed, and now pretty girl," he cooed and blew air along my neck. "I want IN the bed."

He harshly grabbed my jaw. The creature was beautiful as an evil smile unfurled over his face. He rammed two fingers inside my mouth. I dutifully sucked them.

I was scared but I was excited. I didn't know who this Angel of death was. I didn't know why I wanted him. All I knew was this felt right in the most wrong way.

I felt like Eve taking that first bite of the apple. A terrible pleasure I shouldn't know about overtook my body. I realised he was completely nude.

"How could I resist?" He asked me. "Such a pretty little thing that sleeps so soundly. I watch you, you know."

"You do?" I asked, feeling tears prick my eyes. I didn't know what to feel. I was overwhelmed.

"I can't stop now," he purred.

His hard cock dangled over my mouth. He pried my lips open. He forced his dick into my wet warmth. I whined around the length.

"Such a pure girl aren't you? You don't want this," he teased me.

He grabbed either side of my face. He was ramming his cock into my skull. I was gagging and drooling. He wouldn't stop even if I choked, I could see it in his eyes.

"Don't lie to yourself. You wanted this every moment of that vacation. I clung to you even then. You couldn't make your dreams come true, so I made a nightmare of lust bring me to life."

He sounded wild. He was hammering into my mouth. The way he used me like a doll, had come to me of all people, had chased off every other man, turned me on. I felt naughty and desired.

I arched into his crotch. His long finger tangled in my hair. He was yanking my head up to give himself pleasure.

My throat was being stuffed full of dick.

"You like it!" he hissed over and over. He was grunting and moaning like an animal in heat.

My eyes were full of tears as I tried to take what he pushed deep in my mouth. Spittle coated my chin, I reached up shakily to grasp his bicep. I held him tight to let him know. I needed him to know I didn't resent him. I was thankful for this dark gift of pleasure. I needed to be used and treated like this. I had needed it for longer than I even knew.

"I'm going to fucking poison you with my cum. It will crawl through your veins and infect your body. You'll never feel the same again, and never crave anyone else the same way," he told me. He was grinning from ear to ear.

"I'm going to spill my hot seed down your throat,"he groaned. He was rutting into my mouth. He let out a roar and ropes of cum were flooding my insides. I dutifully gulped down what he provided me.

"Good girl," he sighed and caressed a thumb down the front of my throat.

I didn't remember falling asleep. I didn't remember the man leaving. When I woke up I nearly thought the whole thing had been a dream. However, that feeling of a dark entity was gone. I no longer felt the fear and paranoia.

Instead I felt this deep longing, an ache in my gut. I didn't know which one was worse.

#reader insert #timothee chalamet #timothee fanfic #timothee imagine #timothee x reader #timothee x y/n #timothee x you #timothee chamalet #x reader #timothée chalamet #timothée chalamet smut #timothee chalamet smut #timothee smut #smut #fluff #timothee fluff

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skykiuwu · 1 year ago

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Okay hi I’m baaaaack and I bring the crack

#art #fanart #doodle #foodles #cult of the lamb #cotl #Ratoo #shrumy #cotl Ratoo #cotl Shrumy #cotl fanart #I hc Shrumy to be genderfluid btw #that’s why they’re being called a girl here #parasite au #cotl parasite au #comic

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nyxnightshade1332 · 1 year ago

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Expectations When Expecting (Prologue)

Chapter 17

Chapter 18:

The three teens and the cat monster raced out of the abandoned dwarfs’ mine, clutching the magestone they had recovered. They rushed into the silent woods, only to realize that the giant, inky monster had managed to follow them. The monster howled and gurgled on its own ink as it approached them.

Ace looked back, incredulous and nervous at the sight of such a disgusting monster stomping toward them.

“Are you kiddin' me?!” He cried in exasperation. “It's still coming! It pushed off all that weight!”

Yuu felt her heart drop at the knowledge.

“Giiive it baaaaack...!” The giant roared, launching a tree at the group, Yuu barely managing to dodge it.

“It's too fast!” Deuce gasped, exhausted. “It's about to catch us!” He stated nervously as he began to fall behind.

“You know what? Fuck it! Then it's kill or be killed!” She cried, glaring at the monster, shaking as she guarded her abdomen. Ace seemed to notice her fear, but followed along, a crazed smirk painted on his face.

“Aw, yeah! Let's just smash the thing. Try not to wet yourself, Deucey!”

“Same to you, Ace!” Deuce smirked back, clutching his magic pen.

Yuu watched as Grim placed himself in front of her. “I'm gonna show ya why they call me Grim the Great!” She watched Grim inhale, puffing out his chest. It was a clear indication of the monster’s signature attack of blue flames. She gave Grim a grateful smile as she picked up a stone.

Yuu pulled her arm back, eyes locking onto the monster giant, glass head with only one conclusion in mind. Break the head and it will die.

When Grim released his flurry of flames, she threw the rock as hard as she could, hearing the satisfying cracking sound, and she picked up a second stone she watched, weaving between the trees, similarly to the way she would when playing hunters with her friends as a child. She pulled back her arm again when the monster was distracted. She took a breath as she aimed, her eyes fixated on the cracked part of the monster.

And as she released the stone, there was one final CLANG that echoed in the woods. Yuu felt herself be pulled away, a white light seemingly keeping her from being crushed or drowned by the monster. She shut her eyes in fear and surprise of the light that blinded her bracing herself.

She froze when she felt the cool, ghostly brush of a hand against her face. Tentatively, the young woman opened her eyes for long enough to catch a glimpse of who had touched her, only to see the familiar form of her deceased lover leading a small man away. She saw the smaller figure pause, turning toward her before nodding what appeared to be his gratitude. She nodded back, watching the two figures retreat before she realized that she had not been breathing.

Yuu took a gasp of air, registering the sounds of triumph of the boys, Grim happily prancing around her. He stopped in front of her, sharp teeth flashing a happy smile at her, and he held up one paw.

“C’mon! Gimme a victory high-five!”

Yuu felt a relieved smile form on her lips as she bent down, giving a high five to the cat. She looked to Ace and Deuce, whose celebrations were ongoing. She stood up Grim scampering onto her shoulders.

“Shared adversity sure brings people together, huh?” She gave a smirk as she noticed the boys scramble backward.

“Uh... I don't think that had anything to do with it.” Deuce muttered, rubbing the back of his neck in an attempt to soothe his embarrassment.

“Yeah! Spare us the clichés, bro.” Ace chimed, face slightly red.

“There's no "together" here! We won 'cause of me!” Grim bragged, nose held high. “This is all from me bein' a magical genius!”

“Hush you.” She half-scolded before noticing Ace’s expression toward her.

“Y'know... I hate to admit it, but... We mostly won because of your plan.”

“Yeah... if you hadn't managed to keep your cool and tell us all what to do, we never would have got this magestone.” Deuce agreed, noticing the sudden sheepish appearance of Yuu. He said something else that Yuu couldn't quite remember, apparently a thanks for preventing the expulsion.

“Aww, c’mon guys. It wasn’t really much… I'm just glad no one got hurt.” She muttered shyly.

“Yeah, yeah, lessons were learned, et cetera. Can we just go home already? I'm wiped.” Ace remarked.

“I think that may be the most logical thing you’ve said since I met you.” She teased.

“Shut up!”

“UGH, Usin' all that magic made me hungry!” Grim whined, annoyed before he paused. Yuu stopped, noting the strange-looking stone on the ground.

“Huh? What's this?” Grim made his way to the mysterious object, picking it up in his paws and bringing the stone up to his nose curiously.

“Is that a part of the monster we just beat?” Deuce questioned. “It looks like... a magestone? But it's black as coal! I've never seen one like that before.”

Yuu watched, her eyes narrow, watching Grim as he sniffed the stone, his eyes widening. “Woah! What IS this? It smells amazing!” He took a deep sniff of the stone once more, eyes wide with excitement.

Yuu recognied the look in Grim’s eyes as the same one her dog had when she’d accidentally dropped a $100 bill. She tensed, completely prepared to scramble to wrestle it out of Grim jaws. Maybe he won’t try to eat it? Hopefully?

“What are you, Insane?” Ace exclaimed.

“Must be some kinda fancy monster candy that it was hidin' from us! If this tastes half as good as it smells…”

It all happened much quicker than she’d expected. Grim opened his maw, tossing the entire stone in before the sound of crunching was heard.

“Grim, you trash panda!” Yuu screeched. “Spit it out! Out! Bad cat!”

She rushed to open is jaws when she heard the heavy swallow. A very loud meow echoed in the woods, startling the group.

“Are you okay?!” Deuce squawked in surprise.

“That's what you get for eating trash!” Ace stated, eyes trained on the monster.

“Oooooogh... Urrrgggh... That…” Grim groaned out. “ …was AMAZING!” The group stared, bewildered at the cat’s pleased smile.

“Rich in flavor and full-bodied... Like sweet, fragrant flowers burstin' into bloom on my tongue. A whole field of 'em! Right in my mouth!” He sang, praising the flavor of a random stone. Yuu’s shock quickly melted as she slightly knocked the cat on the head.

“Darn it Grim! I thought you were going to die!”

“Gross. Monsters must have real weird tastes.” Ace stated, earning himself agreements from both of the other humans.

“And… you’re sure you're okay?” Yuu asked, examining her cat.

Grim belted out a cocky laugh. “Don't worry about me. I don't got a weak stomach like you humans do.”

Ace snorted, looking at Grim. “Hmph. We'll see if you're so smug when you're sick later tonight.”

“Okay, let's pull ourselves together. We need to get this magestone to the headmage!”

Chapter 19

#disney twst #twisted wonderland #twst #twst fanfic #nyx nightshade #preg!mc #twst oc #twst wonderland #twisted wonderland prologue

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pedgecalmdown · 1 year ago

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baby got back - p.p.

summary:

You and Plotterfilt are being saucy, but things go a little backward 😜😜

word count:

1.2k

warnings:

Funny business, back arch, broken back, stiff stature, milk soaked dinosaur plushie, booster seat, stuck in car trunk, walking while limping from side to side, smelly toots, skid mark, chiropractor cracking back, tongue sticking out because of back crack, insufferable female lead, thumb suckling, HUZZAH!!

You laid there, barely moving as your beloved boyfriend, Pecorino, jackhammered into you, back arched and letting out high pitched moans with each thrust. His toes were curling and shaking as he neared his release. You grabbed onto his back and gripped onto him with an iron fist, nails digging

Into his skin. “Oh, pedgeword!” You cry. “Oh my goodness, honey bunchkins.. I’m.. I’m… HUZZah..- AAAAAAAAAGHHHH!!!!!!!!” Your boufriend let out a pulverizing screech that made you jump. Just after he had spilled his watery seed into you, he let out his scream and clutched his arched back. “Pulsierenden, what happened? Are you okay?” You ask, frantically. “MY BAAAAACK!! AHH!” He pulls out and stands up, back frozen in the arched position. He starts to cry and hyperventilate when he looks In the mirror and sees his deformed back. You cover your mouth in shock as your mund races. “Pavlova, we need to get to the emergency room, stat!”

Both of you were in a rush to put on clothes, and you put on an oversized hoodie and sweatpants while you help Poltergeist put on his t shirt of a cat riding a dinosaur with rainbows in the background with his orange dinosaur trunks. What a silly guy! You rush to the car and since Partition is so deformed, you have to throw him in the trunk because he can’t fit in the front seat. You accidentally hit Plobfrogulous against the wall and he started to cry. “YEEEOWCHHH!!” “It’s ok my brave brave boy, do you want your dinosaur plushie?” “yes” he said quietly while suckling his thumb in despair. You threw him his dinosaur plush you always keeps in his booster seat and started to drive to the hospital.

You arrive at the hospital and pull in, you being one of 5 cars there. You hop out and open the trunk to see Pubic sucking his thumb, holding his dinosaur plushie that’s soaked with milk close to his side, and back still severely arched. You pull him out and he slinks onto the floor, holding his milk doused plushie. “Come on pharmaceuticals, let’s get you out. And stop pouring milk in your plushie, it’s gonna mold.” “But when I suck the milk out it tastes so yummy!” He replies. He somehow stands up and limps from side to side as he tries to walk with his altered stature. You open the door for him and he walks into the lobby of the emergency room.

“Oh good lord.” The nurse at the front desk says. “Hey lady, that’s my hubby. Now he needs help, as you can CLEARLY see, so why dont cha get him in that darn room so you can tell me what’s wrong, got it toots?” You look at her with a fiery stare. “Sure thing.. uhh.. so what happened?”

Without breaking eye contact, with your hand on your hip you reply, “We were up to some.. funny business.. and my munchkin here got hurt. How about instead of asking questions you get to work, huh? C’mon, chop chop honey!” The front desk calls a nurse that has to toss Plogfrotter on a rolling bed because he’s so stiff, but while he’s being thrown, he drops his milk soaked dinosaur plushie on the floor which makes a loud slap because of the wetness. Placket’s lips immediately start to quiver and he reaches out his arms while closing and opening his hands. You pick up the moist plush and give it back to him, and he immediately starts sucking out the milk in comfort as you follow him and the nurse to the chiropractor unit.

You enter the room and Porglesnort is laid down on a black, leather chiropractor bed. Because of his arched back, his whole back isn’t touching the bed, only his shoulders and rear end. It pains you to see your boo boo sausage like this, and you wince in pain for him. The nurse who rolled him in tells you the chiropractor will be in shortly before walking out. You start hearing giggling from pugliss. “What’s so funny, prugglewort?” You ask. You hear a toot slip out from between his pimpled, damp, wrinkly and soggy flaps. His smile grows wider as you realize what he’s doing. “Plargus, not in here! It’ll stink when the doctor comes in!” You giggle behind your hand as his farting continues. The doorknob turns as the doctor comes in. “You must be y/n and pedge. What’s going o- oh my god, what did you do?” You told him the story in detail, not missing one thing. His face contorts in disgust, but pegger can’t see. Puckler can’t see a thing. Because of his back, his face is pulled back to look behind him. The chiropractor cracks his knuckles before saying, “alright, let’s see what I can do here.”

The chiropractor had to cover his nose due to being so close to Portswoggle. With Plittlefert’s posterior facing upwards, the room reeked significantly, the culprits likely being simultaneously the toots and some skid mark leftovers. The chiropractor tried to feel Pewt’s spine, but he was wriggling and crying so much he had to call multiple nurses to hold him down. “It’s gonna be okay my little sweet potato, if you be a good boy then I might even be able to get you a mcflurry!!” This seemed to brighten Puke’s spirit, and you wiped off his snotty nose with your sleeve. The chiropractor got to work, starting with his lower back and working his way up. Every time he cracked Pimparino’s spine, he cried out for his soaked dinosaur plush, and you held it over his head and wrung out the milk so he could drink it. Because his head was stuck upwards, he had trouble swallowing the milk, often leading to him coughing it out or it streaming out his nose. After what felt like forever, the chiropractor was almost at the top of his back, and Probfrolulous was so tired that he had his tongue sticking out of his mouth halfway. You reassured him, “You got this baby, it’s just the final stretch now!”

The chiropractor positioned his hands at the final spot, and cracked the life out of his back. Packroller stuck his tongue out and made intelligible noises. “Alright. That’s it, should be good as new!” The chiropractor said. “Thank you so much, doctor. Pagina, what do you say?” “fank you.” Pungy mumbles quietly, head down. “My pleasure. Be careful next time you uh, move your back like that.” You walk out of the room, holding porky’s hand. “Come on penile, let’s go home and go neepy neeps, okay?” “Okeley dokeley!” He says. On the drive home, pundit falls asleep in the passenger seat. When you arrive home, you shake him to wake him up. He wakes up with a wet fart. You take him inside and change him into his Jammie’s. He lays down on the bed, holding his plushie and sucking his thumb. You looked at him with love and pet his head. This is true love.

——————————————————————————

A/N

Hey guys!! This one’s off the rails 😝😝 Hope you enjoy this cute poo poo sausage content!! Make sure to like 👍 subscribe, and hit that bell 🛎️🔔🚣

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saintlaurentproblems · 11 months ago

Note

Nah it's very on brand for her unfortunately

I think it’s so funny that these child stars we’ve grown up with we can stay stuff like this like it just cracks me up. Same with Selena and her recent instagram rampage and people were like “omg do you guys think she’s hacked?!” And me who’s been watching her act like this on and off on instagram for years thinking “Ope. She’s baaaaack !!!” 😭Like I don’t know these people but I know these people.

Honestly I think celebrities reveal more about themselves on social media than they realize.espcially when they have been around for over 10 years. They get comfortable.

#answered

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forlornmelody · 6 years ago

Text

Double the Trouble Chapter 6 -- Miss Communication

Rating: Explicit (other chapters are NSFW)

Ship: FemShep x Femshep Clone // Shenko, eventual OT3

AO3 Links: Chapter 1 // This Chapter

Summary: Shep had planned to spend another night alone. Instead she has a surprise visitor--one she had never expected to see again.Unapologetic consensual clone smut.

Note: Well, one year after the most recent chapter, I finally get around to updating this thing. Oops. This is a sequel to Spare Parts, but obviously you can read this without reading the other fic. I’ve spent the year developing the characters and their story arcs, so this smutty crack fic now has plot! Lemme know what you think.

What the hell are you doing here, Shepard? She stood in front of the door, boring holes into it with her gaze. Maybe if she stared long enough the hammering in her ears and chest would fade. So far no luck. Shepard needed to not panic. First step—control her breathing. Deep breath in; deep breath out. Her chest felt like lead. Second step—stay grounded. The door is green. There are six rows and six columns of rings in that grate. That would make—36 diamond…thingys. Yeah. We’ll call ‘em thingys. Just as her stomach slowed its churning, someone tapped her shoulder.

“You gonna say the password, bitch? Or are you going to just stand there all day?”

Shepard whipped around, grabbing him by the wrist. She didn’t waste time before bending it the wrong way. “Get your hands off me.” So much for keeping things under control.

“Hey! Let go.” He reached for his pistol.

Fat chance, big guy. Shepard took a breath, channeling her adrenaline towards her eezo nodes. Her eyes glowed, and she lashed out with just enough force to knock his pistol out of his hands. It barely moved. Shit.

___________________________________

“What would you like to talk about today, Shepard?” Her therapist leaned back in her chair, balancing a datapad on her lap.

“I need you to authorize a new biotic amplifier.”

“Mm. Are you ready for a new amplifier, Shepard?”

Narrowing her eyes, Shepard tried to keep her voice level. “I’ve been ready for months, Doctor.”

“Please, call me Susan.”

“Authorize the damn amp, Susan. We’ve talked through everything—“

“About your military service, yes. Your recent personal relationship with Major Kaidan Alenko, even. Your brief association with Thane Krios. But what about your childhood?”

“I dealt with that shit years ago. No need to bring it up.”

“Your insistence on avoiding the subject is telling, Shepard.”

_____________________________________________

Shepard stared down gun’s barrel, bracing herself as she heard the safety click. Maybe next time don’t pick a fight with only half your body working, dumbass.

“Your amp short out, freak?” The thug’s finger slid towards the trigger.

She held up her right hand. The left remained stubbornly at her side. “Must’ve left it at home.” Shepard put on her most winning smile. I’m so sorry, Kaidan.

BANG!

Shepard fell to the ground. The door slammed behind her, and Shepard caught herself with her right hand. She groaned as her wrist cranked under the full weight of her body. A twitch in her left arm.

“What the fuck is going on out here?” Jane shouted from over Shepard’s shoulder.

The thug dropped his pistol, backing off. “N-nothing Jane. I—we—”

“That’s Ms. Doe to you, asshole. Now get out of here before someone calls the cops.”

“Yes Ms—“

“I said out.”

The thug scrambled out of sight. Shepard looked up, half-expecting her to offer a hand. Of course, she had forgotten who she was dealing with. Jane glowered down at her, folding her arms. “What are you doing here?”

Grabbing onto the door, Shepard dragged herself up. “We need to talk.”

“If I wanted to talk, I would’ve returned your calls.” Jane turned around, ducking back inside, but leaving the door open.

Shepard followed, rotating her wrist. “Could we talk somewhere else? A park? A different bar? Hell, we could even go back to my therapist’s office and I wouldn’t even—”

Jane stopped, looking over her shoulder with a smirk. “This place not good enough for you?”

Shepard clenched her fist. Oh no, this place would be perfect. Discreet. Dim lighting. Loud televisions. Full of private rooms for its loyal customers. Well compensated and well armed bouncers in case shit hit the fan. Plenty of alcohol. If only Shepard could breathe in this fucking shit hole. “Too many memories,” she managed to spit out.

“That’s one thing about not having a past.” Jane stepped inside one of the private rooms. Shepard noticed with relief that it had a desk, not a bed. “No baggage.”

Despite all the alarms needlessly blaring inside her head, Shepard followed. “Jane, please. I can’t—”

Jane whirled around, her eyes dark with hate. “Do you have any idea how many people begged the Alliance to send you back to Earth during the Invasion? But you were too busy kissing alien ass to even bother.”

Shepard knew she should keep her voice down, that Jane only knew how to push her buttons. “You think it was easy for me to leave? I had to! We couldn’t fight the Reapers on our own!”

“You owed the Council nothing! They covered up your death. Conveniently forgot about Sovereign.” Shepard’s pulse pounded in her ears. “Ignored the Collectors. Allowed the Alliance to arrest you after Bahak.” Shepard’s throat closed in on itself. “And then,” Jane jabbed her finger in Shepard’s face, “they all came groveling, asking for your help when the Reapers showed up. Not once lending a hand to our system or its colonies.”

Shepard backed up into the door closed behind her. Her body shook. “Is that what Brooks told you?” Something flashed in Jane’s eyes. “Or what did she call herself at Cerberus? Rasa?”

Jane’s arm collided with Shepard’s throat, pressing her up against the door. Not enough to cut off her breathing, but just enough to hurt. “Don’t you dare talk to me about her.”

She should’ve probably held up her good hand in surrender. She should’ve backed down. Instead, Shepard stared down her clone, even as she started to see stars in her eyes. “What did she do to you?”

The clone dropped her so she could storm off to the other side of the room. “What’s it matter to you? She’s dead.”

Taking a few gulps of air, Shepard rubbed her throat. That’ll leave a bruise. “Shit. Jane...whatever...whoever Brooks was, I’m sorry you lost her.”

Jane snorted, pulling a small rubber ball from her jacket pocket, and bouncing it off the wall. “You’re a real trip, you know that?”

“What are you talking about?” Shepard must have hit her head on the way down.

Her clone spins around, her eyes flashing with rage. “You kill my...partner, and then you have the nerve to say you’re sorry??” She stretches out the O, as a reminder of just how different their origins were. Streets and a lab. A womb and a test tube. A homeworld and a space station. “Is that how you won over the tribunal? By apologizing?”

“Cute.” Shepard rubbed her face, trying to think, replaying the Clone’s words in her head until they made sense. “Hey. Look. This may be hard for you to believe, but if Brooks is dead, I had nothing to do with it.” She snorted, using her good hand to gesture at her body. “I mean, look at me. I can hardly dress and feed myself as it is, how the hell am I taking out hits on people?”

“You didn’t kill her after the war, genius.” Jane leaned against the wall, bouncing the ball harder and faster. Her fists started to glow. “Guess it was hard to notice her body with all the other mercs.”

Shepard’s face jerked up to look at her. “On the Normandy?” She blinked. Jane nodded. “She didn’t...Oh. Of course you don’t know. You didn’t see anything after you...fell.” She swallowed hard, the look of horror on the clone’s face after she dropped from the Normandy still burned in her brain. Breathe. “We arrested her. Sent her to some top-secret facility with other terrorists...I don’t even know where it is.”

Jane finally deigned to look at her, her mouth hanging open. “Brooks is alive?” The ball fell from her hand, bouncing several times before skidding to a stop. “Rasa is alive?”

Shepard took a deep breath, rubbing her bad arm. God, it was cramping so bad. Like pins and needles. “As far as I know, yeah. I mean, for all I know the Reapers took out the facility along with everything else. But I had nothing to do with it. I can swear to that.”

Stepping towards her, Jane asked softly. “Do you know where she is?”

Shit. “I...I don’t. Even if I did….I I don’t have the authority to release that information.”

Snorting, Jane nodded her head, unsurprised. “You don’t trust me. That’s...fair.”

God, she wanted to. “Two spectres and a councilor have to approve visitors. Doesn’t happen to often.

“You’re making that up.”

“Nope. Read that section of the Spectre manual the night after we...ran into each other.” Shepard swallowed, the taste of her still in her mouth.

“Repeatedly.” They both snickered. Jane kicked her foot back and forth. “What do I need to do to get that information? Money? Information?” She took Shepard in slowly, reading her, probably. “Sex?”

Shepard turned abruptly to hide her blush. “Bribery? Really?” She scratched the back of her neck. “I’m not even sure I count as a Spectre anymore.”

“Bullshit. You saved the galaxy, how many times? They’re not going to fire you over an injury.”

“I’m not exactly battle ready, Jane.” Shepard sighed. “I’ll talk to Kaidan about, okay? He’s still active. He’s on better terms with the politicians, anyway.”

Jane watched her closely, arms still folded.

“You don’t believe me.”

“Trust is hard to come by these days.”

This room really could use a few windows. Anything to keep the walls from closing in. Shepard cleared her throat. “Is...is this about the other night?”

This time, Jane blinked at her. “What?”

“...I thought you were mad.” She could feel the heat burning in her cheeks. “Me and Kaidan….Kaidan and I...we...we kind of lost track of you after.”

“After we fucked, you mean.” Jane smirked at her discomfort.

“Well, yeah.” Shepard chewed her lip. “You didn’t get any aftercare from us and---”

“I’m mad about Brooks, not being your unicorn. Because I’m. Not. Anyone’s. Unicorn.” Jane pulled the ball back into her hand biotically, passing it from hand to hand. She shook her head. “I’m mad that you never brought up Brooks.”

“...With the way things went down...I didn’t realize you--”

“--Cared? Please, Shepard. I’m not the monster you think I am.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.” Moving towards the desk chair, Shepard slipped and out of her pockets fell two small boxes. As she fumbled to get to the floor, Jane picked one up.

“Dental dams? Latex gloves?” Jane quirked an eyebrow as she watched Shepard turn as red as their hair. “You sure know how to charm a girl.”

“This sounded way more smooth in my head.” Shepard leaned against the back of the chair, sliding her index finger across the lid of the box. “What I’m trying to say is...I don’t want to use you. I mean...if you want to be exlusive with us, that’s fine. But if you want to see other people, that’s cool too.”

“So smooooth.” Jane traced her fingers across Shepard’s, laughing softly, only to frown when she saw the whites of her knuckles. “Shit. This place...it really fucks you over, doesn’t it?”

“LIke the underside of a thresher maw.” Shepard said quietly, starting to pull her hand back.

Jane grabbed her wrist. “Hold on.”

Looking up at her, Shepard swallowed hard.

“You uh...have plans tonight?” With Kaidan? She asked without words.

“Well...Kaidan’s out of system right now.” Chewing her lip, Shep pulled out her phone, shooting Kaidan a text.

Hey.

Got time for a vid call?

Jane leaned her chin on Shepard’s shoulder. “You flirt like this with everyone?”

Shepard glanced at her with narrowed eyes. “You want to fuck or not?”

Both of them stared down at the phone, waiting. “What if he’s on duty?”

Chewing her lip, Shepard brushed her nose with hers. “How about dinner?”

“Sushi?” Jane smirked.

“Are you going to blow up the fish tank this time?”

“Only if you ask nicely, Shepard.”

#mass effect #femshep #shepard clone #femshep clone #kaidan alenko #poly dynamics #melody writes #hey guess what #the crack is baaaaack #pfft #who am I kidding #no one cares about this crack but me

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el-tira-dor · 6 years ago

Note

SING THE SONG OF OUR PEOPLE .... DESPACITO DOS

*inhales*

---”......”

---”DES”

---”PA-”

---”SHIRO.”

#((THE MEME IS BACK Y'ALL))#((IT'S BAAAAACK))#[crack]#Anonymous

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r0-boat · 3 years ago

Note

Yo I'm a sucker for some angst and hurt comfort. (GN reader, talks about sex but nothing super detailed.)

So imagine, if you will.

You and Emmet having an intense session involving orgasm denial, and you are tied up or otherwise restrained. Now this isn't a new concept, Emmet isn't shy about expressing and discussing what kinks he enjoys but maybe it went on longer than expected, or you were more vulnerable emotionally today than you originally thought.

Regardless between the physical sensations and the denial, plus some mild degradation on Emmet's part you're Very riled up. And your emotions are getting a bit frazzled.

But that's fine, everything will be just fine, you're enjoying it and the sessions going to end soon and you're so close-

Emmet steps away completely.

You're so confused by the sudden stop you don't know what to think, meanwhile Emmet's just smiling with his trademark grin. Though a bit more sadistic looking given the circumstances.

"This has been verrry fun love, but I need to step out for a moment. Now if you're verrry good, maybe I'll finally give you your reward when I get back."

And just like that he steps out the door, and you're left alone, stunned, and still Very pent up.

But soon, those emotions start turning sour. You don't realize it immediatley but you're experiencing subdrop.

And in your frazzled state of mind you're torn on what to do. This is what Emmet wants right? And of course he'd never go too far away from you, right? But you don't like this. Should you safe word? But you're not in physical pain. But you're still hurting. What did you do wrong? Why did he leave? You don't like this! You don't!

"I'm baaaaack Love!" And before you can spiral anymore Emmet cheerfully walks back in, completely oblivious to your sudden shift in mental state. "Were you good for- love?" Until he realizes the whimpering he hears isn't from desire its more like, sniveling and crying.

"Love? What's wrong!?" He comes to your side, and gently cups your face so you'll look at him.

He sees tears streaming down your face and genuine hurt in your eyes. He feels like his heart is cracking in his chest.

"Y-you left, I don't, I don't understand. What did I do wrong? I- I-" You hiccup and sob trying to explain you're sudden emotional upheaval.

"Love No no no no no! You didn't do anything wrong you were perfect. Absolutely perfect for me." Emmet reassures cooing and hugging you as best he can.

"Do you want to be untied?"

You nod shakily and Emmet quickly but carefully releases your bindings. He rubs gently on any reddened areas and follows the gentle touches with soft kisses. "Do you want to be cuddled in the blankets?"

You nod again, this time more certain and with less sniffs accompanying your breathing. Emmet gently takes the soft duvet, cocooning the two of you so you are embraced both by the soft fabric and by your love's warmth.

You stay that way for an unknown amount of time. Emmet holding you closely, and occasionally running a hand gently through your hair, or pressing a gentle kiss to your head. Your heart slows, your breath calms, and your emotions become more even.

"Love, do you want anything to eat? Drink?"

You shake your head, and burrow closer to your lover, tucking into his chest. "No, not right now. I'm okay like this...I'm sorry I scared you."

You feel Emmet's arms tighten around you. "Love no, I should have done a safety check before that last scene-"

"But I should have safe worded when I realized I didn't feel good."

"But I should have realized you were approaching the end of your line."

"Emmy, you're not a mind reader. That's why we have safety checks and safe words."

Emmet turns his eyes down, and away. He seems to want to accept your words, but still feels responsible for your pain.

"Its okay Emmy, even with all the prep and safety in the world sometimes things go...off the rails."

He seems stunned for a moment at your random quip before chuckling. "...pfft that was terrible, love"

"Buuut, even when that happens we pick up the mess and get back on track. Right?"

Emmet smiled at your continued goofy use of train puns. "Right."

"Then that's what we'll do, now, and next time, and at every stop along our journey."

"Most assuredly," He brought you in to a sweet kiss. "I love you my precious dear one."

"I love you too, Emmy."

You sat comfortably for a bit, wrapped in blankets and eachother.

"Hey Em?"

"Hm?"

"Could you finish me off now? I didn't get to so..."

"Of Course my beloved! I'd be happy to do so!"

Needless to say the rest of the night was very sweet indeed. For both of you.

Hope you enjoyed this, I think it became a bit more sappy towards the end but hey, I like my sappy love stories. Hope this message finds you well. Peace!

Omg emmet is so cute and sweet! Aaa

I can imagine during another session he just cups your face and reminds you

"my love, no matter what I say or do to you you always have the option to stop at any point in time"

And that goes for any session he wants to make sure you always know the safety rules and safe words.

Also Even though I'm not really good at train puns I always do love when people try to incorporate then in writings with the train twins~

#ro.chatting #that goes for battling as well #pokemon emmet #emmet.thirst #smut

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ephemeral-sorrow · 3 years ago

Text

jake x male!mc as best buddies/partners in crime

a/n: this came up out of nowhere, nevertheless please enjoy. @captainwanderlust78 inspired me

➢ you would have never even entertained the idea of befriending someone so peculiar and extraordinary, but in a strangely comforting way so compatible with you.

➢ jake found himself growing closer to you on the basis of the kidnapping incident. it was the most inappropriate time to encounter someone and, furthermore, discover a special connection between the two of you, while there were currently more paramount matters at hand. however, jake contemplated this issue a lot and rather disappointedly cocluded that he wouldn`t have known you, unless compelled.

➢ during Hannah`s case: you eagerly helped out and supported each other in the times of distress. as you got to learn the hacker`s personality better, you actually found out he`s quite insecure and worried about the situation, if not the most among the group. he tried to conceal his emotions and succeeded in doing so very masterfully. he needed at least some human care and comfort - being the warmth-starved guy he was - he needed reassurance and comrade advice. jake had an undeniably strong willpower and a cold head, but even he sometimes allowed the anxiety to get the best of him.

mc: "man, you sound pretty tired." delivered, 17:03

jake: "do i really? i`m the same as always, mc." delivered, 17:03

mc: "i know i`m nowhere near when it comes to understanding the kind of problems you must endure, but i`m here to listen. don`t feel ashamed to share, just because 'you think you don`t have the right to be weak' and stuff." delivered, 17:04

mc: "well, at least not in front of me. we`re in the same boat since it all started." delivered, 17:04

mc: "are you there?" delivered, 17:05

jake: "yes." delivered, 17:05

jake: "i suppose i need some time to come to my senses. otherwise it`ll start affecting my mental performance, and that would be highly inconvenient right now." delivered, 17:06

jake: "how`s it going with the weather?" delivered, 17:06

mc: "do you seriously want to talk about the weather in my region at the moment?" delivered, 17:07

jake: "that was my way of saying "thank you". " delivered, 17:08

mc: "... dude, you gotta work on formulating that." delivered, 17:08

➢ in spite of jake`s secretiveness, the conversations you shared always seemed to flow in the right direction and held no place for the tension. you managed to discover more and more new about your mutual hobbies and interests, as well as endlessly crack jokes only you two had a knack for coming up with.

mc: "lol, jake, guess what." delivered, 23:42

jake: "i`m still not fond of you saying this strange word." delivered, 23:42

jake: "is this a modern vocabulary youngsters tend to use?" delivered, 23:42

mc: "you talk like my grandfather right now." delivered, 23:43

jake: "..." delivered, 23:43

jake: "yeah, right. so what was it?" delivered, 23:43

mc: "pfffft, don`t tell me you`re sulking. that line is so cliche it`s illegal to get offended and it`s even older than you! :D" delivered, 23:44

jake: "okay then, i`m getting back to work." delivered, 23:44

jake is offline

mc: "dude, come baaaaack, i was only joking." delivered, 23:45

jake is online

jake: "you have an interesting humour." delivered, 23:46

mc: "comes in pair with your responses. :D anyway, want to hear a real joke i intended to crack?" delivered, 23:46

jake: "bring it on." delivered, 23:46

mc: "why has grandpa's origami business gone out? because it folded." delivered, 23:47

jake: "... and who`s the grandpa now?" delivered, 23:48

jake is offline

➢ ... even if it was mainly jake facepalming at your attempts to coax him out of his shell.

➢ overall your mental connection kept on getting stronger by each passing day, filled with upcoming troubles caused by the kidnapper and the joining police forces, and you bravely pushed on towards your ultimate goal to untangle this mystery.

➢ i canon that once you finally met up face to face, the first thing you said was about jake coming barehanded and breaking his promise to take you on the motorcycle ride. his face was priceless, although he regained his composure fairly quickly and smacked the back of your head with the rest of his long hoodie sleeve.

➢ after this you`ve completed the picture by chasing the mwaf alongside others.

➢ after the incident(or i would rather refer to this as the alternate universe in which both you and jake are dangerous fellas, that work together against the underworld):

➢ of course, jake did not agree to this idea right away.

➢but observing your capability to make the ends meet and communicate with informants using sly and clever methods, he couldn`t throw the suggestion off either. his enourmous trust, which you`ve patiently earned drop by drop for the past two years, played a key part in his decision. if it hadn`t been for you, god knows where he would`ve ended up. you`ve become his faithful companion he knew he already couldn`t cope without, whether he realised that or not.

➢ so, this is how it all began. jake was still unsure - especially at the beginning - if he should further drag you into the damn mess his life was. you were his first friend ever, his one and only person alive he could rely on. despite the bond you`ve come to form, jake was terribly afraid something would go wrong and you would end up hating him for ruining your peaceful life.

"even if we end up getting caught, i have no regrets." you mused, taking a slow drag of your cigarette. the snake-like smoke drew unknown and quite peculiar patterns in the air. currently both of you were resting on the roof, can of cool beer in your hands. jake suggested coming here once you were finished with the errands for today needed for executing a bold plan - infiltrating the military cyber base to search the information on the requested individual. he was some sort of a higher up, numerously reported by his subordinates for using his position. unfortunately, the police kept closing their eyes on it, easily seduced by the delicious amount of money the serviceman was granting them.

upon meticulously investigating the subject and collecting the data about the victims, the two of you assented to not wasting any time.

"in spite of being so smart, you sure do spurt nonsense from day to day." jake`s voice was calm and void of emotion, but the way he stared into the distance with a griveous expression spoke volumes. "of course you`re going to regret it." he turned away from the glimmering city lights and sent you a little smile.

"what`s with that face, mate?" you hit the hacker`s shoulder, making him choke on his drink.

"hey." he coughed into his elbow, testily glaring at you.

"in fact, it`s you who says the strangest things. our whole friendship has been a risk since the very start. it`s a tad bit too late to realise that, hm?" your eyes held a confident and lively twinkle and somehow it combined well with the momentous things you were proclaiming.

"..." you were right, and jake didn`t find a proper argument to that. instead, he chose to take a quiet sip from his can.

"don`t you worry."

"what?" the sudden light gust of wind caused jake`s hair to flutter a little. the sounds of cars honking and hundreds of people chattering below drowned your voice.

"i`ve got you and our job. we`ll continue buiding that ideal of ours until it becomes the wonder of this city and to those in despair. you know... there`s something i always knew deep down but never had the courage to do. virtue. and the actual guts to help someone, even if it may cost you something."

jake looked at you curiously and dared to make an assumption.

"you mean my sister?"

"she was the main push i needed to realise this, yes. after the incident, i`ve been thinking a lot about the kidnapping, police, our lives and roles in all of this in general... i knew it, but then i felt it: there`s nothing more valuable than saving someone."

you directed your gaze all the way down, where people hurried across the streets like small ants.

"and you want to continue doing this?" unbeknownst to him, a smile tugged at jake`s lips.

"and i want to continue doing this."

➢ you`ve become quite the consultants in the area of accessing to various kinds of information and solving cold cases, long forgotten by the police or marked as "top secret" by government. struggling to find your traces and eventually contacting you through reliable channels, people pleaded for your help. they either wanted punishment or blackmail for their evil-doers and could only hope that the mysterious duo would extend their generous hand and faciliate the judgement.

please tell me if you liked the story and if you want part two.

#duskwood #duskwood everbyte #everbyte #duskwood mobile game #jake #jake x reader #jake x mc #mc #male mc

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mocacheezy · 3 years ago

Text

Friend: "So, do you have any new fic ideas you want to write?"

Me: "Hmmm, nope I think I have my hands full with the wips and the ones I already told you about."

*5 minutes after the call ends*

My brain, slamming a folder filled with ideas infront of me: "Guess what I found in the baaaaack~"

The ideas:

The "Nemesis Prime" robot M.E.C.H. made coming to life via (smth?), naming himself Motormaster, and the 'Bots having to deal with an edgy, more aggressive and destructive "twin" of Optimus. MM ends up viewing OP as an older bro and will not hesitate to hurt a bitch if it means OP isn't getting hurt. Megatron included among those bitches.

MegsMags from Aligned with a splash of implied megop at the end

Animated (Kingdom/Arranged marriage stuff megop) Culture shock during peace talks and potential grave insults to the guests avoided thanks to OP actualy bothering to look up the neighbouring "barbaric" kingdom's courting culture. His family is ashamed at the display, his future consort however is becoming more hopeful about his future husband.

Animated Bulk/Megs; Bulk is sick and tired of being labeled as nothing more than a dumb oaf. Megs could weep because he finally has a competent minion. Somewhere, somehow affection becomes a thing.

Aligned prewar megop with Orion crushing on a miner, finding out he became a gladiator, befriending him, and buying him from the Arena. He'll get rid of the slave coding binding his friend soon... Right?

Aligned prewar megop; "congratulations! You've won a raffle young bot - here are some of our finest gladiators, and some of the most prized possesions of their masters. You can take home whatever you can carry!" "Anything?" "That's right! Why, if youvwere stronger you could've taken any mech if you wanted to." *Orion hums, walks up to Megs, looks his "friend" up and down, lifts him up in a bridal carry and goes home.*

Aligned domestic fic where OP wonders why the fuck Megatron doesn't use normal utensils and insists on using his eyebrows. Yes, it's also a crack fic.

... This isn't even touching the wips, or the Pitfighter Pax ideas that are blooming in my mind.

#Seriously... These are some good ideas how haven't I written them yet?#moca screeches #fic ideas #... One day #One day I will do it

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mcwriting · 4 years ago

Text

The Marriage Project (11)

I'm baaaaack :) Sorry it's been so long y'all but I'm finally on break so hopefully I can push out more content soon! Pls enjoy!

Masterlist

Word Count: 2130

Warnings: little bit of language, mild mentions of alcohol

% approximately the last weekend of October/first week of November %

Sunday, you went wedding dress shopping.

Kinda.

It was for homecoming court. Your school had a tradition where the ladies in the running for queen wore white wedding dresses, so your mom and you went out in search of one.

You’d already gotten your dress for the actual dance weeks prior, so you started at the same store.

It didn’t take long for you to stumble upon one you liked, a slim a-line that accentuated your muscles and curves. There was a draped neckline and a somewhat low back. The entire dress had a grecian feel with the small silver accents dusted across it.

The second you put it on you fell in love, so you made the purchase and set off for shoes, easily finding a pair of heels that would put you at a similar level with Tom.

The next day, you made your way to class for another round of praise and congratulations for the tournament that weekend. The trophy was already sitting in the school display case, the plaque yet to be made with your school’s name and the year.

It was spirit week, so everyone was dressed in clothes that fit the day’s theme.

All morning, people were coming up and asking you about the tournament and homecoming, many of them pledging to vote for you.

Things felt nice.

You and Tom didn’t talk much throughout the morning, but exchanged a few jabs and laughs here and there.

Later, you sat around the lunch table with your girlfriends as usual, this time discussing the homecoming nominations.

“Y/n, there’s literally no way you won’t be queen. I’ve talked to a ton of people and all of them are saying they’re gonna vote for you,” one of them said.

“Aw shucks, you’re making me blush. Obviously I’d like to win queen, but we’ll see. It’s whatever. If Harrison wins king I’ll drop out.”

“As if. No one even likes him. I’m pretty sure he was voted in as a meme. Everyone knows Tom is gonna win,” Alexis stated. “And if Tom wins, you’ll win too with everyone thinking you’re together.”

“Hmm. I honestly hope Tuwaine gets the vote. He’s so sweet and totally deserves it.”

“I think we all know you’d prefer Tom as your royal counterpart,” one friend suggested, causing you to roll your eyes.

“How many times do I have to tell you guys! Nothing is going on! On another note, though, I got my white dress,” you mentioned, trying to steer the conversation away.

“Really? Let us see!” Caroline exclaimed.

“Ah, ah, ah. I’m saving it as a surprise for Friday. The only person who’s seen it is my mom, and it’s staying that way until the parade.”

You continued talking about the upcoming festivities and your excitement for the week, and the announcement of who would be crowned queen Friday at the pep rally.

That afternoon, you went to study hall with Alexis. Now that you were between sports, you had a free period to go do art, work out, or just “study,” so you chose the latter as a way to take a breather from everything that had been going on.

“So tell me everything about Johnny’s this weekend. Loved the costumes,” you started as you plopped down at two desks in the very back of the room.

“Not much to report. We mostly just hung out but I heard one dude had to go get his stomach pumped or something after the cops got there. We dipped out before it was busted because it was obvious they were coming. Now how was your weekend, since we’re finally alone?”

You thought about how much you’d actually tell her, especially considering that you hadn’t told her really anything about yours and Tom’s interactions in past weeks.

“Pretty good. It was mostly just volleyball.”

“Oh yeah? What all went down with Tom? Anna told me you seemed pretty close.”

Your face burned.

“We hugged after winning the tournament. Not a big deal. Oh and we maybe kinda pretended to be a couple Friday night.”

“What? You didn’t think to lead with that?!”

“It was for like a minute while we went up the elevator. This drunk couple was harassing us so we just played along for a little bit. Whatever,” you shrugged.

“Did you do anything couple-y? Don’t tell me you guys kissed.”

You tried not to cringe before somewhat telling a lie.

“I kissed him on the cheek and he put his arm around me. I swear it was nothing serious, Lex.”

“Hm. I still think you’ve gotta be hiding something, but I just don’t know what. And I’m gonna get to the bottom of it.”

Good luck with that. I’m not about to crack yet.

Spirit week continued with people coming up to let you know their votes had been cast for you. The voting ended Thursday so that votes could be counted before the pep rally.

When Friday did hit, you woke up early and tucked your volleyball jersey into some jeans and tossed on your letter jacket, as the day’s theme was school colors and jerseys.

You popped on some mascara and lip gloss, then headed to school, becoming more nervous as you got closer.

The pep rally would be right after lunch, but almost everyone was so excited for the weekend festivities that teachers basically gave everyone a free day so that the students in charge of the event could continue their planning and the athletes could prepare for the rally.

The pep rally was mostly for the football game, but they were also going to recognize the volleyball team’s accomplishments, so you prepared for that and the whole homecoming court thing.

In home ec, Mrs. Flynn let those that needed to help set up for the pep rally eat your lunches in class and then leave early.

You and Tom finished about the same time and went to your lockers to grab your things.

“Ready to win?” Tom asked as you walked towards the gym.

“Nope. You?”

“Yeah, actually. Maybe it’s just because I love winning so much.”

You gave him a little shove as you continued walking. Tom had his jersey on without the pads, so it fit big on him. You admired the way it draped over his thin, toned frame.

A bit later and the pep rally had begun with the dance team doing their routine, then came athlete recognitions.

They started with the volleyball team, calling you all out to the basketball court to wave as everyone cheered. After you all, the cheer squad hyped everyone up for the football team to come out.

You stood in a corner of the gym with Zendaya, as they would be announcing the homecoming court next. You both talked a little bit, but things were somewhat awkward.

Finally came the time to announce the winners. As with nominations, things went in order from freshman to senior, eventually reaching the king and queen announcement. The six of you stepped out onto the basketball court, the pit in your stomach bigger than before.

“Alright ladies and gentlemen, I know that this is the moment you have all been waiting so patiently for!” Mrs. Johnson looked around the bleachers at the cheering students, holding up her paper with everyone’s positions.

“We’re going to start with our third place, the duke and duchess of homecoming! May I have a drumroll please!”

Everyone stomped their feet and clapped.

“This year’s duke is Mr. Harrison Osterfield, and the duchess is Daisy Ridley!”

Cheers went up, not completely enthusiastic for the pair. You felt a little bit of satisfaction knowing the people you liked least had gotten third place.

“Now for our runners up, the prince and princess!” She paused for effect. “Tuwaine Barrett and Zendaya Coleman!”

More cheers rang out than before. Your jaw dropped as you looked at Tom.

“And that means that your senior king and queen are Tom Holland and y/n y/l/n! Congratulations to all of you. Can’t wait to see you at the parade, game, and dance!�� Mrs. Johnson called out, dismissing everyone back to class.

Someone came and placed the crown on your head and slipped a silver sash which read “homecoming queen” over your body. You couldn’t help but slap a hand over your mouth.

“What did I tell you! I knew you’d win!” Tom exclaimed, holding out his hands. You so badly wanted to hug him, but decided not to in front of the whole school, at least not until tomorrow night.

Your friends rushed up and congratulated you, fawning over the crown and sash and laughing. Before you left, you had to return the two items to a teacher so you would have them for later that night.

As you left school that afternoon, you felt like you were floating on air.

You were back at the school later that evening, the game just over a couple hours away. There were families lining the street prepared to watch the parade make its way down.

Since leaving the school before, you’d put your hair in loose curls and done a full face of makeup. You tossed on some sweats and zipped up your varsity jacket, taking your dress and shoes along in the car to change there.

You waited until the last minute to slip on the outfit, causing people to fawn over you when you stepped outside to see everyone who was waiting.

Someone pinned the crown to your head and helped you slip on the sash, then led you to the convertible where Tom was waiting. You’d get to ride around sitting on the back waving like you’d always dreamed of doing.

Your heels clacked on the sidewalk as you confidently stepped. Sure, you didn’t wear heels much, but you sure knew how to work them.

It felt like slow motion when Tom turned around and you saw each other for the first time. He was wearing slacks and a sport coat and his curls were perfectly placed around his own crown. You both gasped a little.

“Y/n! You look… you look like-”

“Let me guess. A princess?” you smirked, raising a brow.

“I was gonna say queen.”

You rolled your eyes and chuckled, giving him a little shove. He helped you climb into the back of the car, and someone went to hand you his letter jacket.

“What’s this for?” you asked.

“Usually if it’s cold the queen wears her partners’ letterman over her shoulders if he has one.”

You thought about it. It was pretty chilly, after all.

“You don’t have to wear mine, y/n. Did you bring yours?” Tom asked, making you smile.

“Yeah, actually. I did. Would someone mind going and grabbing it from my stuff? It’s just inside.”

One girl ran and brought it back in a few minutes, and Tom helped drape it over just your shoulders.

“That’s more like it,” he said, giving you a smile as he fixed the neck.

A few minutes later, the cars and floats began moving and families cheered as you passed, waving with a smile on your face.

You and Tom talked to each other quietly as you looked around both sides of the street. When you reached the end, someone had you pose for a couple pictures in the daylight before the football players headed off to get ready for the game.

This was not only homecoming, but senior night, so they all wanted to be on their A-game.

Different people came up to congratulate you and you took pictures with friends, family, and even a few little kids. You were talking with the girls when you felt a hand on your shoulder.

You turned around to find the Holland family, including Nikki’s parents and a woman you assumed to be Dominic’s mom.

“Well I sure am glad to see that people have some decent sense around here,” Grandma said, giving you a warm smile. You gave her a hug then greeted the rest of the family.

“You look beautiful, dear. Congratulations,” said Nikki as she gave you a squeeze.

“Oh, y/n, this is my mother,” Dom explained, gesturing to another elderly woman.

“Just call me Nana, dear. I’ve heard a lot about you.” You smiled as she held your hands in hers.

“Thank you! Tom’s told me about you, too.”

Nikki shot some pictures of you with their family. It felt weird to be in their photos without Tom, but also comfortable, like you’d known them your whole life. You had to hold back a laugh when you took one kissing Paddy’s cheek and making him blush.

Eventually your parents also came over and talked to them, and everyone made their ways to the stadium.

A/N: omg it's been way too long since I updated TMP! I just wanted to pre-warn that next chapter will have the heaviest themes of this story. It will have adequate warnings but I want to make everyone aware!

Thanks for reading!

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