#damien haas fic

[pedropascallme]

After The After Party

Pairing: Damien Haas x f!Reader

Summary: “‘Have you ever noticed,’ Courtney popped her lips together, spreading the gloss, ‘That Damien only ever offers to host when he knows you’re going to come?’ She turned to you again, leaning back, elbows on the sink. ‘Almost like he just wants an excuse to have you over.’”

Warnings: SMUT (18+ MINORS DNI) p in v sex, oral (f & m receiving), fingering, dom/sub dynamics, praise, creampie, soft!dom Damien who is also incredibly needy, mentions of drinking/alcohol, brief mention of gambling. If I missed anything please let me know!

AN: This is so dialogue heavy and I won't even apologize for it. Dedicated to the idiots to lovers mfs out there <3 part 2 here!!

Long shoot blocks, you’d learned, usually devolved into long nights out. The cast and crew—or, at least, those of whom had the time and the desire to let loose—often found themselves in bars with high ceilings, with music playing too loud, and drinks that were just strong enough. There were nights when you lost Arasha and Amanda to the grimy dancefloor as soon as you passed the threshold, and nights when you watched from afar as Chanse cozied up to a beautiful stranger.

You liked listening to your friends talk and laugh as if you weren’t all exhausted after the grueling work week.

You liked feeling like part of something.

Some nights, though, when Shayne and Spencer got tired of hugging the wall, and when you’d all realized how expensive it was to go out as often as you did, someone would offer their house as a respite from the outside world. It was a chance to avoid prying eyes and the same top 40 hits that seemed to play at every bar.

Now, you found yourself at Damien’s house; someone had dimmed the lights, and from your spot on the couch you could hear glasses clinking in the kitchen as Tommy poured various liquids into a makeshift mixer. Your friends held mugs of alcohol, pretending to be above the culture of red solo cups.

You watched Amanda and Angela play a card game you didn’t know on the coffee table in front of you.

“Your pile is huge—your pile is huge, oh my god!” Amanda’s voice carried over the other noises around you. You leaned against Angela’s shoulder.

“Because you’re playing wrong! You’re cheating! You’re literally cheating and it’s so uncool.” Angela tried to grab Amanda’s cards, and you smiled at their back and forth. You were admittedly distracted, but trying to play it cool, pretending your mind wasn’t elsewhere as Angela jostled your head.

You watched Damien out of the corner of your eye. He stood across the room, toying with one of his rings, nodding along to something Alex was saying.

You tried not to stare, but there was something so attractive about the way he looked in a space all his own; he didn’t command attention—Damien hated being the center of attention, especially when it was easily avoidable—but he had a way about him tonight that just seemed so relaxed, and it was hard to ignore. Especially when he was already taking up most of your thoughts as it was.

For as long as you’d worked with Damien, he was someone you looked forward to seeing. He wasn’t the only reason you got out of bed, but he was certainly up there on the list. Thoughtful, considerate; he was a generally good-natured person. He made the days go faster, making jokes and ensuring you felt included as a newer member of the cast.

And you liked his laugh, and the way he listened, and the soft color of his hazel eyes that looked somewhere close to green in the light.

It was no secret that you found him alluring, but you felt that it was better to keep those thoughts out of his orbit. If not for your sake, for his. It just seemed unfair to come onto him after you’d spent so much time together as friends, especially when he had given you no reason to think that he felt anything for you beyond camraderie.

You sat up from your position on Angela's shoulder, moving your head to get a better look at Damien. He noticed, shooting you a smile. You reciprocated it, offering a small wave, keeping your elbow low and fingers folded near your palm. He waved back, and you both quickly returned to your respective conversations.

Amanda and Angela had gone back to playing their game, light-hearted fighting words replaced by laughs as they smacked cards down.

There was a tap on your shoulder, and Courtney pulled you up from the couch.

“Come to the bathroom with me.” She set a cup of something that smelled strong on the table.

The rules of the bar still applied to house parties, and you had no problem tagging along on trips to the bathroom, sitting pretty while your friends fixed whatever makeup was still left of that morning’s full beat. You followed Courtney down the hallway and into the bathroom.

“You’re bright red, you know,” They wasted no time in grilling you, running the water and dabbing it under their eyes to wipe away streaks of mascara that had rubbed off.

“I had a Tommy special.” You sat on the edge of the bathtub.

“That’s not—you can handle your liquor.” Courtney turned, combing through their hair with her fingers, “You’re not blushing just because Tommy gave you one vodka cran.”

“It wasn’t a vodka cran. It was a vodka soda.” You could tell where the conversation was headed, and you tried to veer it off track.

“You’re not as slick as you think you are.” Courtney raised a brow.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. He hasn’t even spoken to me tonight.” You contradicted yourself, markedly aware of what she was referring to and feeding into the topic, but disputing what you could.

“You’re oblivious.” Courtney laughed, fishing lip gloss from her pocket and turning back to the mirror.

“What do you mean?” You stood behind them, watching her reapply the color to their lips.

“Have you ever noticed,” Courtney popped her lips together, spreading the gloss, “That Damien only ever offers to host when he knows you’re going to come?” She turned to you again, leaning back, elbows on the sink. “Almost like he just wants an excuse to have you over.”

“He doesn’t do that. Damien is always offering to host. Doesn’t matter if I’m here or not.” You retorted.

“Not true,” they shook their head, “On days that you're not around and we don’t feel like going to the bar, Tommy always hosts. Or Amanda. Or Ian.”

“Tommy has more alcohol at his place.” You ignored the rest of the list, still trying to change the subject.

“Dude,” Courtney was laughing now, “It’s like you don’t want to see it.”

“See what?” Your ears began to feel hot.

“That he likes you as much as you like him.” The words had a tone of finality. “Why are you so nervous?”

“Bec—are you serious? Why wouldn’t I be nervous? Why would I run the risk of ruining a perfectly good friendship? Or, you know, whatever it is—however you might describe what it is!” You started to ramble, digging yourself into a hole, “What happens if something happens and then—it could ruin work, Court. It could ruin everything!” You suddenly became aware that you were whisper-yelling. You cleared your throat, returning to a normal tone of voice. “It could ruin everything. That’s why people don’t fuck their coworkers.”

Courtney said nothing, just held up their hand and made a point of showing you the wedding band around their ring finger. She cleared her throat.

“That’s different.” You tried to backpedal.

“How?” Courtney looked amused, eager to hear your half-baked reasoning.

“Cause of course that worked out. Look at how Shayne looks at you. Look at how obvious of a pairing you two are.”

“Same way Damien looks at you.” Courtney smirked.

“You’re reading into this more than I am.” You shook your head at them. “He would’ve made a point to do something by now.”

“Are we…talking about the same Damien?” Courtney laughed, and you responded with a tight-lipped scowl. “In what world would he ever make a first move?”

“The ideal one. Where everything goes my way.” You scoffed, folding your arms.

“Right,” Courtney put a hand on your waist, and you looked at each other. “Approach this with more confidence, is all I’m saying. Give yourself—give him—the opportunity to make something happen.”

“Yeah,” you sighed, unfolding your arms and rubbing the bridge of your nose. “Yeah, no, you’re right.” She gave you a cocky look, and you slapped their arm gently, “Don’t rub it in.”

“You’re hot,” Courtney rubbed her thumb over the exposed skin of your waist, “And sweet. You deserve the world. And I love the both of you more than words, but you act like you’ve never had a crush before.”

“Not like this.” You admitted, and they smiled.

“I know. But you have nothing to lose.” They looked around as if they were afraid someone might be listening from behind the shower curtain, “I have it on good authority that he feels just as strongly about this thing—” she gesticulated vaguely, “as you do.” She smiled, turning to open the door. You grabbed her by the arm.

“What did Shayne tell you—what did Damien tell Shayne?” You tried to pull them back as they turned the door handle, but she wiggled from your grasp.

“You didn’t hear it from me!” She called back to you, leaving you alone in the bathroom to ruminate on the conversation. 

~~~

It was still early when people started to trickle out. You knew when Shayne and Courtney left that the party was over.

“Do you guys need a ride?” You sidled up to Courtney where she stood in the foyer with Shayne, “I don’t mind driving you home. I’m sober. Stone cold.”

“Oh my god—Steve Austin, I love your work!” Spencer called over to you while he herded a cheerfully inebriated Tommy through the door. Shayne let out a quick, barking laugh.

“No, don’t worry about it. We’re ubering.” Courtney moved hair from your face, and you saw something dubious hidden in her smile. She leaned further into your space, lowering their voice, “And you’re not going anywhere.”

“What?” You made a face.

“Give yourself,” they pressed a finger to your chest, “an opportunity.”

You grasped her hand, squeezing her fingers. Shayne looked on, and if he knew what you were talking about, he kept it to himself.

“I’m leaving. I’ll be gone—out the door right after you.” You argued, and Courtney raised her eyebrows, waving you off before exiting. Shayne followed close behind her.

You didn’t leave right after them. As it turned out, you didn’t really want to leave at all.

You liked Damien’s house. It was spooky year-round, warm in both temperature and color palette, and his couch was cozy.

It wasn’t just the furniture; Damien’s presence was equally as, if not more, comforting. He walked around picking up whatever had been misplaced during the night, trying to find the right spot for it all. He hummed quietly to himself, shooing the cats away with his feet.

“I’m sorry for not helping,” you shifted on the couch, lying on your side.

“Don’t be sorry,” he smiled, “It’s fun to organize.”

“That is such a you thing to say, you know that?”

“What is?”

“That organizing is fun.”

“It is. Especially when I have company while I do it.” He looked pointedly at you. You held eye contact.

“You can tell me to leave. If you’re done for the night.”

“Why would I want you to leave?” He looked genuinely curious as to why you would think he’d want you gone.

“If you’re tired, or something. I get it.”

“No,” he shook his head, grabbing a cup that had been left half-full on a bookshelf, “I like having you around.”

“Can I get that as a written statement? Signed, dated…” You sat up a bit, positioning your head on the armrest of the sofa.

“Absolutely not. Nobody can ever know.” He laughed, and you couldn’t help but laugh along with him.

“Come sit with me.” You leaned over to pat a cushion before returning to your reclined position.

It could’ve just been the liquid courage you’d ingested, but you’d only had one drink. It was hardly enough to make you feel a buzz, let alone get you drunk. Maybe you were just thinking too much about what Courtney had said, about giving yourself a chance, finding an opening to let him in. Or maybe you were just really, really comfortable where you were spread out on the couch. For once, though, the confidence seemed to be your own doing.

Damien put down the cup in his hand and settled on the couch. You rested your feet on his thigh, and he placed a hand on your shin.

You’d always felt that any one-on-one time you got with him had a deadline, like you were on a time crunch based off of when the next video needed to be filmed or when your friends would join the conversation. It made the moments alone with him all the more enjoyable.

You liked being here, alone with him.

You liked it a lot.

“You wanna do something?” Damien leaned his head back on the couch, stretching his arms out beside him. You tried not to pay too much attention to the way the fabric of his t-shirt hugged his arms and the broad expanse of his chest.

“Like what?” You quirked a brow.

"Something low energy that makes us feel like we’re doing something…” He mulled over the possibilities, “Smash Bros?”

You nodded. “Wanna make it interesting?”

“I’m not putting money down.”

“Because you’re scared?”

“Yeah,” he smiled, “Scared you’ll lose. Wouldn’t wanna take a chunk out of your day rate.”

“You fucking wish,” you kicked at him gently. “I wasn’t thinking the gambling route.”

“So what were you thinking?”

“You ever played strip poker?”

Damien looked taken aback, and you regretted your proposal almost instantly. “Are you suggesting we play strip Smash?” He broke into a fit of laughter.

“We don’t—it was just a thought.” You tried to retract your suggestion.

“I didn’t say no.” He held your gaze, and you felt a tug in your stomach. “But if you get cold, tell me.”

“You say that like I’m going to lose.”

“Oh, is that what that sounded like?” He tossed you a controller, “Good. Cause that’s what I meant.”

You kicked at him again.

You lost your socks first. Then your shirt. You didn’t know whether or not to thank or chastise yourself for remembering to wear a bra. Your pants quickly followed, and though it was far from a matching set, you were relieved that your undergarments were at least presentable.

You were acutely aware of your own body now; the rise and fall of your chest and the way you moved your legs when you got caught up in the game. You didn’t notice Damien: how he bit the inside of his cheek so hard when you took off your shirt that he flinched; how he nearly lost his grip on the controller when your jeans came off; how he kept shifting in his seat.

You especially didn’t notice the way he looked at you. His eyes flicked over your face with a combination of pride and adoration, and they darkened significantly when his gaze dropped below your collar and took in your half-naked form.

“How far are you gonna take this?” Damien was grinning, his voice the only other sound against the backdrop of in-game blasts and the click of thumbs on controllers.

“Down to my skin.” You shot him a glance and he cleared his throat.

“Won’t be long, then.”

“Yeah?” You bumped your shoulder against his lightly.

“You’re oh-for-three.” He pointed out, and you pushed against him again, harder this time, in an attempt to throw him off his rhythm.

“Let me choose a different character.” You tried to reach for his hands to grab at the controller. He held it up and away from his body.

“I don’t think the character is the problem,” he laughed, face lighting up at the way you sneered in frustration. “I’m not pausing just so you can be Kirby.”

“Who said I wanted to be Kirby?” You chastised him.

“Did you want to be Kirby?” He looked smug when he turned to face you, his hands still out of reach. You realized how close you’d gotten to him over the course of your teasing exchange, and suddenly recognized that the opportunity Courtney had been alluding to was right in front of you.

You moved to straddle his waist, legs framing his body and tits inches from his face as you stretched out to grab his hands, removing the controller from his grasp. You tossed it to the side and Damien was frozen as you shifted to look behind you at the screen, your victory now swift thanks to the lack of any opponent.

You turned back to him with a smile. “Did you want to be Kirby,” you imitated him, echoing his taunt. “Lose the shirt, Dames.”

Damien looked up at you, frozen. The tension was almost visible, like fogged glass, and you had no idea how to clear the air. You were nearly certain that you had made a terrible mistake, that everything about tonight was about to go wrong.

You were unable to make eye contact with him—afraid that by looking at him you would completely fall apart and lose the edge you’d only just found. Throughout your mental battle with yourself, Damien still hadn't moved, his gaze fixed on your face.

You tried to make your fear dissipate by breaking the silence.

“What?” You laughed, a little awkwardly.

Damien swallowed. “I...sorry,” His eyes were wide as he spoke, “I just got…very nervous and—and really turned on.”

Oh.

He let out a small, huffed laugh, smiling up at you in a moment of awe. He blinked hard a few times before moving his arm to rest behind his head.

“That…that makes two of us, then,” you stayed where you were, placing your hands on your thighs. You licked your lips, exhaling, before finding the nerve to continue. “You still have to take your shirt off, though. You lost. Rules are rules.”

“Didn't you get to take your socks off first?” He narrowed his eyes playfully.

“You can take them off," your words were coy. "You want me to move?”

“I never said that.” He shook his head, leaning forward just enough to grant him the space to remove his t-shirt. He tossed it to the side, and you felt your whole body flood with nerves and anticipation when he leaned back against the couch on full display for you.

“Are you cold?” Damien brought his hand up to cup your elbow, and it was only then that you became aware of the goosebumps that had broken out over your flesh.

“No…No. Just…” You swallowed, moving slightly on his lap. “Just nervous.”

He let out a small laugh. “Do you—I mean…” He was entranced, unable to remove his eyes from your face for the fear that if he looked at any more of you, you’d be able to feel his reaction. You reached out to trace a hand over his chest, admiring him and letting the heat of his skin warm your palm. “Would you mind if…” He bit his lip, closing his eyes while your fingers grazed his flesh. He took a deep breath. “Can I kiss you?”

You stopped your hand, letting it linger on the center of his chest, just above his stomach. Damien gingerly placed a hand on your waist, and for just a moment you wondered if he could feel the desperation seeping through your skin.

“Yeah. Yeah, you can kiss me.” you nodded, maybe a little overzealous, “Please.”

You leaned forward into him. You could feel the weight of his hand on your body and the thrum of your own heartbeat in your chest as it threatened to break through your ribcage. You watched him suck in a sharp, deep breath before his other hand cupped your face. You closed your eyes, letting him guide you into the kiss.

It was tender. You moved slowly, in tandem with him. You wrapped your arms around his neck, letting yourself settle into him as you got lost in the way his mouth felt on yours. You let your lips part, making space for his tongue to dip between them and explore you further. You let out a quiet moan when he licked into you, and you let your own tongue delve beyond his lips to take a taste of what you’d been craving so urgently. His grip on your waist tightened in response to your sounds, and you took it upon yourself to test the waters, rolling your hips against him. You were rewarded with the feeling of his stiffening cock between your legs, and a gruff sound that caught in his throat. His hand moved from your face to the back of your head, applying light pressure to keep you steady as the kiss became hungrier, and he bit at your bottom lip.

When you parted, both of you pausing to catch your breath, he looked up at you, quietly chuckling to himself.

“What?” You let your hands wander over his shoulders, “Was it that bad?”

“What? No—god, no. No, I’ve just…I’ve always wanted to do that.” Damien smiled, moving his thumb in a soothing pattern over your hip, “I’ve always wanted to do that…” He trailed off, raking his eyes over you and letting both hands move up and down your sides.

“Really?” You posed the question with your eyes closed, lost in his touch. You let yourself fall forward on his chest.

“Really.” He sighed dreamily, “I can’t begin to explain to you how much space you take up in my head. The real thing is a lot better than the imaginary version.” 

“But you can do whatever you want in your imagination.” You pointed out, pressed against him and tracing lines over his collar with one finger.

“Yeah. Sure. But nothing I think up could ever beat this.” His fingers grazed the clasp of your bra, “And, full transparency, I’ve thought up a lot.”

You laughed, pushing yourself up with both hands on his chest to really look at him; his hair was messy, and his cheeks were flushed pink.

He looked flawless. You felt flawless.

“Damien,” your tone was saccharine, still tinged with a shy edge but steadily coming into your own with help from Damien’s clear reciprocation of your feelings, “Do you wanna show me all the thoughts you’ve had?” You watched his face go stern at your words, still hinting his amusement with a small, nearly hidden smile. “Do you wanna act on them?”

He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you flush against him; somehow the feeling of your tits pressed against his bare chest was almost more intimate than the kiss you’d just shared. You squealed, tossing your head back, which he took as an opportunity to leave dainty kisses on your throat, muttering against your skin.

“I don’t think you’ve ever seen my room.” His voice was gravelly, parched from the kisses he left on your skin as he picked you up. You gasped, suddenly off the ground and in his arms as he carried you down the hall; one of his hands trailed down your body, and you felt his fingers dig into the flesh of your upper thigh to keep his hold on you. You hid your face in the crook of his neck, letting him overwhelm your senses.

You got lost momentarily, like time had paused or sped up or stopped completely, but then you were in his room. The lights were dim, just as they were in the rest of the house, and the shelves stacked with various tchotchkes and books that you were too distracted to care about in the moment.

You realized that a person could look like their home, in a way, and you recalled the moment earlier in the evening when you had found yourself so attracted to how Damien carried himself in his own space. It’s because the space was just as welcoming, just as comforting and soothing as he was.

He let his grip on you loosen, and you landed on his bed, hands still wrapped around him and tentative of letting go. But you didn’t have to; he lay next to you, rolling onto his side and pulling you against him in a swift maneuver that placed you comfortably on his chest.

He didn’t kiss you, maybe out of anxiety that he was moving too fast for your taste, or just because he felt the moment didn’t call for it, but he brushed his nose against yours and let his hands linger on your waist.

“Is this what you thought about?” You whispered, letting him continue his quiet ministrations, “Taking me to bed and touching me like this?”

“And so much more,” he breathed, hands moving up your back, trying to commit your entire body to memory. “I hope you—I didn’t mean for it to come off like I’ve only ever thought about fucking you.”

You moved to rub your thumb over his cheek. “What did you mean?”

“That I don’t want you to be my friend,” he smiled, and your heart dropped for a second before he continued, “That I think about you all the time in ways that friends don’t think about each other. And I…” He searched for the right words, “Even after a night like this, even after, you know, seeing everybody and having everybody over—even when a place is full of people, and noise…You’re still the only person I can pay attention to. Or think about.”

You couldn’t help but let out a laugh, and he pulled away from you to meet your gaze.

“Does that sound really stupid?”

“No,” you reassured him, pulling him back towards you, “No, it’s…you put it into words, Damien.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean I get it. I’ve been trying to figure out how to describe what you mean to me, and you just,” you laughed again, trying to collect yourself, “You did the work for me.” You smiled, tilting your head back with your chest still pressed against him, making sure he paid attention to what you were saying. “I love you.”

You watched his face change, something in his eyes and the curl of his lips looked different in a way you couldn’t pinpoint. You couldn’t look for long, because he was on you again in a flash, arms wrapping around you, engulfing you with his body and tugging you into him. His lips crashed against yours, and it was hungry, and messy, and passionate, so much so that you couldn’t be bothered to care about the clack of teeth or the small bead of spit that fell from the corner of your lip.

“I love you,” Damien’s voice sounded tight, higher than it had been all night, “I love you.” He freely explored your body now, big hands reaching over your ass and offering soft squeezes before grazing your sides and the swell of your breasts.

“You know how,” you managed to get a few words in between heated kisses, “you said you didn’t want it to come off as if you only wanted to fuck me?” You let out a small moan when he licked a stripe up your neck and to your earlobe, mumbling quiet curses to yourself at the feel of his tongue on your body.

“Mhm,” Damien acknowledged your words without breaking away from you, still nipping at your neck while you let your breathing mellow so that you could continue speaking.

“Want you to fuck me,” you put a hand in his hair, forming a fist in the silver strands and pulling him up to make eye contact. “Damien, I want you to fuck me.”

He looked almost surprised, like he had forgotten physical intimacy beyond kissing you was even an option. The look of mild shock was replaced with clear enthusiasm as he moved to get off of the bed. “I’d hate to make you ask twice.”

He shed his jeans, and you realized this was more of him than you had ever seen before; standing next to you was the man that took up all your thoughts, ready and willing to give you what you wanted, his eyes like pools of reverence as they trailed over your form.

You couldn’t help but feel excited, uncaring if you came off as desperate. You sat up and moved to the edge of the bed, situating yourself on your knees. Your hands found purchase on his chest and slowly moved down his stomach until you reached the waistband of his boxers.

“Eager,” he let your hands wander, watching on as you explored. You paused, looking up at him to wordlessly ask if you were allowed to go further. “Don’t be shy, baby,” something about his tone had changed, and the cheerful voice you’d come to know and love was replaced with a deeper, rasping sound that you thought you might like even more. “You can touch. Take what you need.”

The words reached your core before they fully hit your ears, and you shifted on your knees, pressing your thighs together to give yourself some relief. Sliding your hand under his waistband, you were met with the solid, smooth skin of his cock. He helped you pull his boxers down and over his length, letting it spring free, and you felt your mouth water.

He was big, thick, and while not surprising in the slightest, you couldn’t help but whine at the sight before you. You looked up at him, your hand wrapped around his cock, thumb brushing the reddened tip; you expected him to look smug, proud of himself, maybe, but he looked dumbstruck, in awe of the way your hand looked wrapped around him—in awe of the fact that it was you.

“Damien,” you prompted, and it broke him out of his haze. He nodded. “Can I…”

“Please,” he took a deep breath, “God, yes, please.”

You smiled. “Well, I’d hate to make you ask twice.” He laughed at your mimicry before quickly silencing himself with a shaky moan when you licked an experimental stripe up the bottom of his cock. He tilted his head to the side, unable to decide whether to get lost in the pleasure or to enjoy the view he had of you, bent over yourself on your knees and using your mouth in a way he’d only ever dreamed of.

You spit in your hand, gliding it over him and appreciating the way he felt in your hands; the warmth, the pliant weight. You made sure he was looking when you finally took his tip in your mouth, circling your tongue over him. You moved your hand in sync with the way you bobbed your head. He groaned, hand flying to rake his fingers through your hair, and the way he sighed out your name spurred you on more.

His other hand caressed your back, tugging cautiously at the straps of your bra.

“Take it off,” you pumped him in your hand, letting your tongue flick out to deliver barely-there licks to the tip of his cock. “Take it off for me.”

“Fuck.” He huffed, hypnotized by the way you used your mouth on him. He undid the clasp with one hand, and you let the straps hang off your body. You didn’t want to pause your movements, didn’t even want to slow down at the risk of having to go for even a second without hearing him moan your name; you shook the constricting material from yourself, taking him deeper in your mouth until tears pricked your eyes so that you could slip your bra off your arms. Damien let out a low groan, tightening the grip he still had on your hair. 

You took him deeper still, hand working what you couldn’t fit down your throat. When you gagged on him, he let out an absolutely filthy sound.

“You like that?” He was smiling with his mouth open, chest heaving with every breath, “You like choking on me?” You answered with a garbled “yes,” his cock still pressed against the back of your throat, one hand on his hip to keep yourself stable as your other hand stroked the base of him. He moaned. “You look so pretty. Always knew you’d look so good with my cock down your throat, baby.”

You couldn’t help the noise that you let out, something between a gasp and a moan that sent vibrations up Damien’s spine. You continued to move up and down over his cock before removing your mouth from him, spit dripping down your chin and a dopey smile on your lips.

Damien grabbed your face in one hand, fingers pressing hard against your cheeks as he pulled you up to his level. “You really are just so fucking perfect.” He kissed you, letting the drool that coated your chin drip onto his face. “Can I taste you? Can I taste how sweet you are?”

You nodded, the hand he still had on your face moving with you.

“Yeah? Say it.” He demanded, and you whimpered, enjoying the look of dominance on him.

“Want you to taste me, Damien.” When you spoke, his fingers pressed the inside of your cheeks against your teeth. “Want you to taste how sweet I am.”

He growled, moving his jaw in a circle as if to stretch the muscles in preparation for what he planned on doing to you. “How do you ask nicely?”

You felt an adrenaline rush deep in your stomach. It was one thing to be here with your pleasure in his hands, but to hear Damien say the things you’d fantasized about for so long made your head swim.

“Please…” One of your hands grabbed impatiently at his arm, “Please, Damien…want…want you to fuck me with your tongue. Please.”

He kissed you again, smiling against your mouth and removing his hand from your face to push softly against your chest so that you fell back onto the bed. He knelt on the mattress, holding your calves and pulling your legs open. You sank into the pillows at the head of the bed, letting them cradle and support you at an angle that allowed you to look down at Damien, whose face hovered over your core. His fingers danced over the waistband of your panties, and you wondered if he had felt the same tingly sensation when you toyed with his boxers as you did right now with his hands running over your hips and stomach.

He pressed his face against your clothed cunt, impatient and greedy for you. You moaned, one hand fisting the sheets under you while the other came to rest on your thigh, holding your legs open for him when your muscles threatened to snap them closed following the sudden contact.

“Fuck, Damien, that feels—that’s so good.” You squirmed under him as he licked over your panties, tongue brushing your clit through the fabric. You tried to push the material down, wiggling your hips to ease your panties off your body, but Damien caught your hands in his.

“Let me play, baby.” His doe eyes stared up at you from between your legs with a devious glint. You didn't listen, and instead continued to move your hips in an attempt to wriggle out of the fabric that kept his mouth from making direct contact with you. He pressed down on your hips, forcing you to cease your fidgeting. “Be patient.”

He licked a stripe from where your panties threatened to reveal your hole and up to your clit, and you arched your back in an attempt to encourage him further.

“God, Damien, please!” You pleaded, begging for him to touch you without the obstacle of the fabric that remained on your body. “Want it—said you wanted to taste me, you can taste me—you can taste me, I need it. Please, let me feel your tongue, please—”

Damien snapped your waistband and you yelped, effectively ending your rambling.

“You’re pretty when you beg," he kissed your stomach, and you let out a whimper. "But if you don’t shut your mouth, I’ll fuck it.” Damien’s words weren’t harsh, you could hear the joviality buried under the severity in his voice, and somehow that made it even sexier.

Your arousal was heightened when, as you moaned at his words, you felt two thick fingers plunge into your cunt. Your breath caught in your throat, and you choked out his name.

“Oh my god!” You cried out, looking down to see that he had moved your panties to the side to give himself access to your entrance. His fingers pumped in and out of you, curling to hit your more delicate spots, and the sound was utterly indecent.

“You’re soaked,” Damien was smiling with his top teeth, watching his fingers as they disappeared inside of you. “What got you so wet, baby?”

“Because…s’cause…” You didn’t have the energy to talk, too focused on the way his fingers pushed against the walls of your cunt, forcing your body to make space for him.

“Because why?” He goaded, thumb rubbing circles on your clit as he pushed his fingers deeper, “Because you like the way I touch you? Hm? Because you’ve been thinking about this as much as I have? For as long as I have?”

You nodded, mouth agape and eyes threatening to roll back; maybe you looked pathetic, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care, completely content with his fingers thrusting into you.

“Aw, come on. If you still want my mouth, you’re gonna have to do better than that.” He removed his fingers from inside of you, using the slick that coated them as lubricant to massage your clit.

“Wanted this for so long—so fucking long, Damien.” Your words came out rushed and breathy, “Thought about you like this all the time. Thought about—about you when I came, every time I came.” You couldn’t stop yourself from telling him the truth, the words tumbled from your lips as easily as taking a breath.

Your admission made him pause his movements, and for a moment the dominance in his face faded into something more tender. But he gathered himself, finally pulling off your panties in one fell swoop, then taking one of your legs and hooking your knee over his shoulder while you continued to babble to him.

“Keep talking, princess,” the nickname made you dizzy with desire, and you whined out for him, your eyes wide and watery when his breath fanned over your now bare, slick coated center. “Keep talking. Tell me all about it while I taste you.”

The first swipe of his tongue against your clit sent shockwaves through you, and you whimpered before recollecting your train of thought.

“Th—oh!” You quickly lost your words again when Damien began to ease his tongue into your entrance, toying with your hole before plunging into you with a purpose. He squeezed your thigh, and you took it as encouragement to continue. “Thought about this all the time—about your mouth against me. Using your mouth on me until my legs got sore from the way you’d hold me open.” He groaned against your cunt, and you extended a hand to comb your fingers through his hair. “Thought about all the ways you could use me. All the ways I would let you use me—fuck, like that, please!”

He had his face buried in you, your slick dripping down his chin and his nose pressed against your clit. You could feel the movement of his tongue inside of you, and you tugged on his hair as the sensation spread over your body.

“Thought about getting on my knees for you. I would let you have me whenever you wanted—wherever you wanted.”

Damien growled. “Yeah?” His brow quirked and he looked up at you momentarily before diving back into your heat, “Have to take you up on that.”

You whimpered, the muscles in your thighs and abdomen tensing from the onslaught of pleasure, and the feeling let you know that you were approaching your peak.

“Knew you would make me feel so amazing, Damien, knew you’d make me cum like nobody else ever could.” You were stringing words together faster than your brain could think them up. But even if they came out jumbled, every last word was true.

“Want you to cum on my mouth,” Damien was grinding his hips against the mattress, the relief he got from the fabric of the sheets dulled his intense arousal only momentarily, but he chased the feeling. “Please, baby, give it to me.”

You pulled his hair, admittedly harder than you had intended, but with the moan he let out, it seemed he didn’t mind. His tongue worked wonders as he extended it over and into you. Right when you thought you were already done for, limbs going slack and the pleasant tingle in your core reaching a fever pitch, Damien wrapped his lips around your clit and sucked hard, letting his tongue flick against the sensitive bud.

It felt good to scream out for him, to let his name fall repeatedly from your lips as you yanked on his hair, but it felt better to hear his voice and the words that rang out from between your legs.

“Beautiful,” he was mumbling, still licking into you, trying to savor the tangy flavor of your cum. “So fucking beautiful, baby. Look at the pretty fucking mess you made. Did such a good job.”

You tugged again on his hair and he let you guide him up to face level. When he leaned in to kiss you, you opened your mouth instantly, and he slid his tongue between your lips. You sucked on it happily, eager to taste yourself on him, eager to experience everything you'd always imagined being able to do with him.

In turn, he held you close, so you wouldn’t slip away like you did when he woke up from his dreams.

You let the kiss linger, leisurely grasping at each other and appreciating the newfound lack of constraint. You curled yourself into him, lying on your side and tangling your legs with his in an effort to get as close to him as you could.

“You look so pretty when you cum,” Damien mumbled, lips grazing your pulse point, dipping down and sucking faint bruises onto your collar. “I want to see it again.”

“You can see it whenever you want,” you closed your eyes, relishing the gentle pressure he was putting on your skin so that the marks would form in small spots across your chest. You cupped his cheek in your hand, and he reluctantly stopped licking the bruises that had begun to pop up. Your thumb stroked the skin under his eye. “I want you to see it again now.”

Damien leaned into you, trailing kisses over your jaw. “You want me to fuck you?” He licked a stripe up your neck and over your chin. When his tongue reached your mouth, you opened for him, letting him lick between your lips, kissing him fervidly and moaning softly. “Yeah? You want me to fuck you? Want me to fuck you even though I just made you cum?" He growled into your mouth. "You need more already?"

“Yeah,” you smiled shyly, rubbing your face against the stubble on his cheek.

“Needy thing.” He removed his hands from you, then snaked his arms through the gap in your bodies and put his hands on your shoulders, pushing you against the mattress and onto your back.

He straddled your legs, keeping you immobile on the bed and kissing down your chest. He nipped at the plush flesh of your breasts, unable to contain himself, unable to hide the obvious pleasure he took in seeing you this way.

“Damien—” You sighed when he circled his tongue around one of your nipples, your fingers wrapping around his bicep.

“I know. I know. Sorry, I just—God, you’re beautiful.” He smiled, more to himself than to you, but the joy on his face was palpable, and you were sure he could detect the pride you felt at being the one to make him feel this way.

He used his knee to spread your legs, opening you up for him, moving his own legs to situate himself between your thighs. One of his hands ran up and down your leg as he stroked himself, lining his cock up with your entrance. When the tip of him rubbed between your folds, you whimpered, moving your hands down his arm and squeezing his forearm.

“Is this what you want?” Damien was looking down, examining how perfectly his body meshed with yours. “You want me to fuck you?”

“Yeah,” your words were barely above a whisper, “Want you to fuck me.”

He moved his hand further up your body and squeezed your hip. “Where are your manners, princess?” He smirked, “Say please.”

“Please, Damien,” you stared up at him wide-eyed, captivated. “Please.”

“There you go.” He squeezed your hip again in recognition of your obedience. Slowly, as if he was worried he’d break you, he pushed into you, watching your eager, waiting cunt swallow every inch he offered you. You moaned, squeezing his arm and leaving small, curved marks where your nails dug into his skin. You watched his eyelids flutter, head tilting back with his mouth ajar, letting out a deep groan as he squeezed his eyes shut before opening them again to meet your heavy-lidded gaze.

“Big.” It was all you said, stretched and full of him in a way nobody had ever filled you up before.

Damien swallowed a laugh, flashing a domineering smile. “Big?”

“Too big.” You clarified, not entirely meaning it; you were thrilled to be this packed with him, but it had been so long since you’d felt a satisfying sting like this that it would take you a moment to get accustomed to it.

“You can take it, baby. I know you can.” He pressed his palm over your stomach, brushing his thumb across your skin soothingly. “You tell me if it’s too much, ok? Use your words, say it’s too much, and I’ll stop.”

“Don’t want you to stop.” Your voice came out strong momentarily, so eager for him that the possibility of him leaving you empty made you tense. “Waited so long…” You said, mellowing slightly, “Want you. Want you to…to use me.”

Damien made a throaty noise, something between a laugh and a moan that both relaxed and lit a fire inside you. Unhurried, he pulled out of you, his hands on your hips to give himself proper leverage. You exhaled slowly, mind set adrift by the feeling of his cock dragging against your walls; his rounded tip, every vein that ran up his length—you were certain you could feel it all.

You whimpered when he had pulled out enough so that nothing but the head of his cock penetrated you. You swayed your hips, trying to spur him on, but even with just the tip you felt you had ample stimulation.

He didn’t stop you, just watched on as you tried to fuck yourself with the tip of his cock just barely inside of you.

“You need some help?” He raised an eyebrow at.

“Please—fuck me, please.” You nodded excitedly, aching for him.

He smiled, eyes fixed on your face as he rammed back into you, watching your mouth contort and your tits bounce as your body absorbed the force. You screamed out for him, arching your back, which gave him the ability to push the remainder of his cock as far into you as he could.

“Fuck Damien! So—feel…so full!” You felt a tear fall over your cheek, overwhelmed by the bliss of having his cock buried inside of you and the rough way in which he made it happen. He leaned over you, supporting himself on his forearms as he caged you between them, and met you at face level. He thrust in and out of you shallowly, bringing his lips to your cheek and kissing the path of the delighted tears you had shed.

“Yeah? Feel full?” He whispered, still moving his hips, his cheek pressed against yours so he could speak directly into your ear.

“Yes, Damien—God, yes!” You wrapped your arms around his neck, trying to immerse yourself in all of him. You searched for any part of him that you could reach with your mouth, planting sloppy kisses on his collar, his shoulder, the crook of his neck.

“Good.” He kissed your cheek again, before licking the wet, salty trail that your tears had left behind. “Want you to feel me for days after this.” He found your lips and kissed you, the pace and intensity of his thrusts increasing. “And when you can finally walk straight, I’m gonna do it to you all over again.”

You scraped your nails up his back, moaning for him and desperate to have him follow through on his threat. He buried his face in your neck, and you could feel the tug of his stubble on your skin as he panted against you, fucking into you aggressively in a way you’d always dreamed he would.

Each thrust felt deeper, and there came a point where you felt a pleasant pain in your side as his cock brushed your cervix.

“Damien—Christ, you’re so fucking deep,” Your nails jabbed harder into the skin of his back and he let out a hiss. “Please, like that. Just like that, don’t stop. B-bruise me, please, please!”

“I won’t stop, princess,” Damien’s words were snarled, gruff in your ear as his lips grazed just below your earlobe. “I promise. Wanna leave this pretty pussy so nice and sore.” He sucked a mark under your jawline, "Wanna ruin you."

You moved one hand, fingers lacing through his silver hair and yanking at the brown roots to pull him from his spot in the crook of your neck. He took the hint, rising up to meet you, his mouth finding yours and biting at your bottom lip.

“I love you,” you couldn’t bite back the words, not even if you tried; not when his cock was hitting spots you didn’t even know were there, not when he was using all his upper body strength to stay above you just so he could gaze down upon your tear-streaked, fucked out face, not when it was something you’d been dying to tell him in this capacity for as long as you could remember. “I love you, Damien—I love you.”

“I love you,” he echoed your words, voice softening and face relaxing. “I love you so much. I do, I love you so much.”

You raised your hips to meet his thrusts, and Damien moaned out your name, muscle in his jaw tensing before he let his mouth fall slack. He paused momentarily, sitting up while still buried inside you, to take your legs in his hands and press your knees back to your chest. You were bent in half, completely at his mercy and loving it. You yelped, the new angle giving him the ability to drive harder and deeper into you; the control he had over your body made your head swim and your cunt squeeze around him. He leaned over you, smiling through the pleasure that clouded his mind to jeer at you affectionately as he continued to escalate the manner in which he fucked you.

“What’s wrong, baby?” He watched you, your head lolling to the side and practically drooling as you looked back up at him, pitiful moans and gibberish the only way you could communicate. “Lose your voice?”

You swallowed hard, gasping for air and overcome with the feeling of him. You searched for the right words.

“Make me—oh!—feel so good,” you panted, “so fucking good.”

“Who makes you feel so good?” Damien pressed, plunging his cock as deep as he could, his hips firm against the back of your thighs.

“You do!” You felt all of him, and still, somehow, you craved more. “You do—you, you!”

“Yeah? Say it princess. Say Damien you make me feel so good.” He grabbed your chin, forcing you to stare up at him with your lust-blown eyes. “Say it.”

“Da—Damien,” you whimpered as he fucked you in quick bursts while waiting for you to speak. “Damien, you—you make m-me feel so good.”

He pressed his lips to yours, further enhancing the way your body was already contorted, and you moaned into his mouth at the feeling of being used like a toy by him.

“That’s right,” Damien licked into your mouth, “You make me feel so good, princess.”

He pulled back from your face, straightening once more; he grabbed your legs and threw them over his shoulders, gripping your thighs close to his body and using them to pull you onto his cock. The sounds you made were high pitched and pathetic, eyes rolling back while he placed kisses on your calves where they were slung over his shoulders; he nipped at you, teeth just barely grazing the flesh of your legs as his lips did a bulk of the work. The tickle of his five o’clock shadow was a welcome match to the gentle pressure you felt in your abdomen brought on by the way his cock stretched you.

He wrapped one arm around your legs, leaving you powerless to his movements as your head pushed back into the pillows from the sheer delight of feeling him inside of you, heightened by the depth and momentum with which he fucked you. He let his other hand drop to hold your hips, thumb caressing your skin with unidentifiable shapes.

You couldn’t remember getting fucked like this before—if you ever even had been fucked like this before. Somehow Damien knew you inside and out better than anybody else did, maybe even better than you knew yourself. This was proven by the way he drove his hips into you, hauling you over his cock and making you feel the delicious drag of his length in a way that made you feel full to the point of near discomfort. The electrified jolts of satisfaction when the tip of his cock pressed up against your more delicate, hidden spots, were eased by the soft way he touched you. The feeling wasn’t confined to your walls; his fingers brushed your clit, the ghost of a touch sending shockwaves through your system. You wriggled your body, unable to contain yourself and responding physically to the way his digits teased you while he ruined you with his cock.

He was rough, wild, and everything you needed. When you looked up at him, you could still see the kindness in his features, hear the compassion with which he moaned your name, feel the romantic way he squeezed at your body even while he was fucking you stupid. His groaned words of praise, of affirmation, when he managed to gasp your name between panting thrusts brought you to the edge just as much as his physical prowess did, and you let it be known how you were feeling.

“Damien—” You reached out, grasping at his arm where it wrapped around your legs, his other hand kneading your clit in slow circles. You felt your cunt tighten around him, walls fluttering in preparation for your oncoming orgasm, hips bucking on their own accord as you chased the ecstasy he brought you.

“Give me another, princess,” he grunted, pounding into you, his fingers deftly tracing over your clit. “Doing so good, give me one more.”

You turned your face to the side and buried it into the pillow under you, biting into the cloth to silence your increasingly loud screams. He reached down to grab your face, once again pushing your knees to your chest and earning a loud gasp of his name as you wiggled your hips against him, relishing the feel of his cock throbbing deep inside of you.

“Show me that pretty face,” he cooed, sweat lining his temples from exertion, “Let me hear those pretty sounds.” He pressed hard against your clit, and your body responded explosively; you screamed for him, reaching for his shoulders to pull him to your chest and kiss him as a warm feeling spread from your center and out to your limbs. You could feel it in your chest, the fulfillment traveling over every inch of your body, muscles responding in kind with small twitches as your cunt squeezed him tight.

Your legs squirmed free from underneath him, and you wrapped them around his waist, keeping him close to you while you rode out your high, circling your hips over his cock. He moaned into your mouth, the kiss devolving into a messy exchange of spit and sweat and teeth, lips chapped and swollen with passion. You bit his lip and he growled, leisurely swaying his hips and punctuating his thrusts with eager whines.

“Where,” he was breathing heavily, once again finding solace in the crook of your neck. “Where do you want it, baby. Tell me. Please.” He was practically whimpering, begging you for permission to finish by communicating where it was you wanted his cum.

“Inside,” you moaned, the aftershocks of your orgasm lulling you into a sleepy heap of oversensitivity and devotion.

Damien growled as he took in your request. “You’re—fucking christ, you’re sure?”

“Please,” it was all you could say, desperate to feel the culmination of his pleasure inside of you. “Pill. Need it, Damien. Cum inside me. Let me feel it, please.”

Damien groaned at your words, brow knit and mouth open. He sped up his pace, pushing himself up from you and supporting himself on his hands. You whined, content and aching for him.

“Fuck, I'm gonna fill this pussy up so deep.” Damien squeezed his eyes shut momentarily before opening them and looking down at you, “Fuck—gonna cum, baby, I'm—fuck!” His hips stuttered, and you wrapped your legs around him tighter, keeping him secure against you. He dropped down onto you, still providing shallow thrusts, though much gentler than before. “I love you,” he whispered, lips pressing against your neck as he engulfed you with his own body, cock spent and twitching inside of you, “I love you.”

“I love you,” you repeated quietly, and when he kissed you, you could feel that he meant it; the words echoed in your mind as he eased his lips against yours, taking time now to really savor the way you moved against him and enjoy how perfectly you fit together.

You focused on catching your breath, and he removed himself from atop you as he collected himself. When he slipped his cock from you, you whimpered at the new emptiness, and he kissed your temple.

You both stayed there, lying in bed together while you came down from the high-energy tryst. You still couldn't remove yourselves from each other completely, limbs tangling together and hands gliding over sweaty skin as you appreciated the tranquility together.

“Do you want water?” He asked, nose rubbing against your cheek.

“Yeah,” you gulped a breath, “Yeah. Thanks.”

He got up on shaky legs and found a pair of sweatpants, walking to the kitchen only to return seconds later with a glass of water. His face was radiant and his cheeks dusted pink as he beamed at you.

“Thank you, baby,” you guzzled the cool liquid, mouth dry from the way he'd made you scream.

“Say—” Damien looked down at you, giddy, “Will you say it again?”

You smiled, tired eyes taking in his form. “Thank you, baby.”

He sat down next to you. The mattress shifted with his weight, and you inched yourself towards him.

“I like hearing you say it.” He seemed timid, like after all that had happened, he was still worried you’d reject him.

“I like saying it,” you nuzzled your face into his stomach, resting on his thigh. His hand came down to pet your hair, thumb occasionally brushing over your temple.

“Will you stay here tonight?” He asked, “Only if you want to, I mean—but, I’d like it if you did.” He laughed to himself, “And then, you know…if you wanted to stay every night—I’d like that, too.”

“Well, good, cause the U-Haul is on its way over.” You turned your head to look up at him from your spot on his leg.

“Wow, those guys work fast,” he smirked down at you. “And then, when you, uh—when you finish moving in…could I take you out on a real date?” His face looked so gentle, “You know, away from everybody we know. Just…just us?”

“I would like that.” You smiled, turning to place a kiss on his stomach. He examined your face, still stroking your hair.

“I’m sorry if anything I said was…if you think I was moving too fast—or if I said something you want to pretend I didn’t say yet. Or at all.” He winced, nervous.

“Damien,” you sat up, shuffling to kneel in front of him and cupping his cheek, “I love you. I don’t want to pretend you never said it.” You placed a kiss on his nose, and he tackled you back onto the mattress, kissing your face.

“Thank god,” he breathed a sigh of relief, “Because I don’t think I could ever take it back.”  

“You’ve said it before,” you laughed when his head dipped under your chin to suck new marks onto your neck to match the ones that he had made prior.

“I know,” he mumbled against your skin, “But it’s—this is different. I mean it…different…” He smiled, sharp teeth on display, and you laughed again, enamored.

“Good,” you played with the hair that curled against the back of his neck, “I mean it different, too.”

Damien pulled you against his chest and rolled over, leaving you to straddle his waist and rest your head on his shoulder.

“I love you,” he sighed happily.

“I love you, too.” You left kisses on his collar bone before pressing your face against his neck.

~~~

You didn’t remember falling asleep, but when you awoke the next morning you momentarily feared that it had all been a dream; that you were back in your own bed, alone, hungover and suffering from the memories of some distant fantasy.

But you were still with Damien. His arm draped over your waist and his face pressed between your shoulder blades as he snored quietly.

You could get used to this.

You leaned back against him, eager to tell him that you loved him when he woke up.

The sun was just barely up, and the minuscule amount of light that made its way through the window illuminated tiny bits of dust that passed through the rays. Zelda had made her way into the room at some point in the night, and her soft purring sent tiny vibrations over the blanket, her body nestled into the curve of Damien’s knee behind you.

You stretched, aimlessly reaching out and inevitably grabbing hold of your phone. You dimmed the brightness, scrolling through notifications you had missed the night before; tagged pictures, drunken Instagram stories, a few Venmo requests and a few more Venmo payments.

Courtney had texted you only about 20 minutes before you had woken up.

Court: How was the rest of your night 👀

Court: Does Shayne owe me $10

Court: Or did you end up going home

You let out a silent laugh, rolling your eyes a little at the betting pool that seemed to have erupted over your love life. You twisted in bed, opening your camera and zooming in on Zelda where she sat comfortably against Damien’s knee, the backdrop of his bedroom on full display. You took a picture and sent it to Courtney with no explanation, amused by your own vague confirmation that you had spent the night with Damien—and planned to do it again. Often.

You put your phone down and it started to buzz on the nightstand, lighting up with Courtney's contact picture. You considered picking it up, but then Damien’s arm tightened around you, pulling you to him while his hand spread out over your ribcage just under your breast. He kissed your back, still half-asleep, before he resumed snoring.

You decided that you would talk to Courtney later, turning over to bury your face in Damien’s chest, letting his breathing lull you back to sleep.

#damien haas #damien haas smut #damien haas fanfiction #damien haas fic #damien haas x reader #damien haas x you #smosh #smosh fanfiction #smosh fic #smosh smut #smosh games #smosh pit #smosh mouth #smosh squad #smoshblr

[feral-teeth]

A sound is still a sound around no one

(I’ve been waiting for you to love me)

by Arrow Valentine feral_tooth on archiveofourown.org

Explicit - minors DNI!

Link to fic on ao3

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Rating: Explicit No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: Other Fandom: Smosh Relationship: Damien Haas x Reader

Summary: You're in bed, trying to enjoy yourself. A man appears in front of you. Not just in front of you, but between your legs, fingers pumping in and out of you, just as you were imagining him to do to you only moments before. Not just any man, but the man of your dreams appears when you’re masturbating. but you know exactly what you want to do, because you’ve dreamed of this before so many times with the man whose fingers were now inside of you. So you move your hips, your head falling back. And you let it happen.

Tags: Smut, Dirty Thoughts, Masturbation, Masturbation Interruptus, Choking, Light Bondage, Oral Sex, RPF, Penis In Vagina Sex, Creampie, Come Eating, Come Swallowing, Come Marking, Come Shot, Come Sharing, Come play, Come as Lube, Explicit Sexual Content, Succubi & Incubi, Alternate Universe - Succubi & Incubi, Breathing Play

read under the cut <3

Imagining him between your legs, licking, fingering passionately and moving fast, rubbing and slickly moving across your clit, rubbing his cheek against it and sighing in bliss.

It’s like he revealed himself as a mirage whenever you played with yourself, dyed silver hair attached to a scruff black beard in a crisp, white button-up shirt and striking black tie, appearing between your legs or behind you when you were bent over a counter, fingers reaching down to touch your slick folds as he quickly moved from different positions in your mind, from bent over licking your clit to fingering you, hips bucking against the air then your hips, then his hips slamming against your ass, his cock filling your pussy with so much cum it dripped onto the floor.

Fuck.

You couldn’t get him out of your head, especially when you were in bed. 

You couldn’t get the image of him out of your head.

Until it became real.

but for now, he was just an image in your bed, inside you, flipping positions whenever you got bored of the current one and he switched as fast as a camera shutter to the next position in your mind.

It was normal until the fingers you felt were real.

Like some sort of mirage, the man that was only ever in your dreams was right in front of you, fingers pumping in and out of you just like you were imagining him to do moments before.

You should have been scared, should’ve been shocked and pulled away and told him to stop.

But you didn’t. 

You pushed down and closed yourself over his fingers, your pussy twitching and tightening around them. Hands flying back to grab on the pillows behind you, already close with the work you were doing to yourself just moments before.

You didn’t want him to stop because if this was real, your biggest dream was happening right in front of you and you were so close, oh fuck you were close so you let the stranger finger and lick your cunt until you came on his tongue.

You grab his hair, softer than you could have ever imagined.

Pushing the hair aside to look at his dark roots that were growing out as you rode out your orgasm, a thin line between the lightness of the bleached hair and the virgin brown hair that peeked out underneath. Holding onto these small little details, something to look back on to go back to the memory, this moment. This passion and bliss.

Tightening your grip, you are so so close again and as your hips bucked and moved against his tongue.

It was like he was born to fuck you.

And to do this.

Just. For. You.

“Fuck! Damien, yes right there!” You scream, closer and closer to the edge.

His voice was gravely when you were finally done, breathing hard and gasping for breath.

and when he finally spoke it was one curt sentence.

His voice deeper than you expected.

“I’m not done yet.”

Damien unbuckled his pants, opening his shirt to show off the hair on his chest.

You touch it and he lets you.

He lined himself up with your entrance and looked at you, slowly rubbing your clit in circles with the tip of his dick. You watch him through hooded eyes, waiting.

He enters you slowly, watching you the whole time.

He tentatively pumps into you, grabbing your waist and pulling your ass to be closer to you.

He then reached up to hold your legs by your feet up in the air.

You grab the tie around his neck, pulling it tight. He moans, enjoying the new tightness around his neck.

Grunting and breathless, he fucks you, his thumb rubbing circles around your clit, just the way you liked it, as his other hand rubbed up and down the bottom of your legs, scratching your thighs with his fingernails, leaving red marks as he grips and grabs at whatever he could hold.

His head leans back, revealing the red and purple veins on his neck, the colour popping out against his pale skin and the bulge of his Adam’s Apple, that you reach up and stroke and prod at with the hand not holding the tie, pulling his skin taught with you fingers. You observe the pinkness of his neck, the tie making it grow a deeper red that lined his neck, rubbing your fingers over the lines.

He was too in it to care, growling and snapping at your touch.

You put your hands around his neck lightly and watch him in awe as he was getting closer to his climax.

You are too distracted by the beautiful man in front of you, and he was too busy in the throes of bliss and was so, so close to climax to say anything to you.

Your hand moves to the side of his cheek, feeling the bristles of his beard.

You wipe your thumb over his mouth, feeling the wet that was just between your legs, feeling the cum that was from you. It was on him, something that marked him as yours, even if it was just for today. Even when he would go to wipe it off, the memory of your wetness on his lips and tongue will always be embedded in his memory, on his tongue, on his lips, on his face, wetting that memory with love.

He came inside you , filling you up with everything that he had.

After a moment of groaning, his face scrunched up in his bliss, He pulled out, pumping his cock with his hand and you stuck your tongue out, tasting his cum on your tongue.

You will never forget the taste.

He lay forward, breathing heavily into your pussy and licked a stripe from the bottom of it to the top, tasting himself on you. 

He places a finger inside you, making you flinch with the touch and gathers up his cum, brings it to your mouth, sticking his two fingers into your mouth, slowly pumping it in and out and in and out, making you taste him, the mix of both of your juices.

He grins at you, satisfied. He was finally satisfied with your thoughts that nagged him. He finally got to do what he always wanted to do, what you had always dreamed of.

And as fast as he had come, just like that he was gone.

His orgasming face, his black tie contrasting against his white shirt, against his pale pink and red marked skin. his sexy hair and face and the way he would grunt and moan still echoing in your mind, locked somewhere in the back of your memory. Locked away for safe keeping for when you would touch yourself again. Only thinking about him and his cum and him filling you to the brim that you almost couldn’t stand it, and that night. Oh *god* that night.

You finger yourself, rubbing the cum into your folds, trying to hold onto that moment more. You bring the cum up to your lips, sucking on your fingers and rubbing them into your mouth, thinking of him.

Rubbing it against your lips to maybe, just maybe taste him again.

And you would never feel him in you again, you would never get to taste him on your lips again. Just the memory of that night and the man of your dreams that entered your reality and then left just as quickly.

It was real, not your imagination, or a dream. Because it was just too real, and the cum that he left inside you mixed with yours that was now on a vial on your bedside table as a reminder of the best sex you ever had and will ever have.

*

And you would still feel him between your legs every night, but you knew nothing would top what you felt that night.

And you would have sex with others, trying to fill the hole that him not being there beside you in bed , between your legs, left in you.

But none of them ever did.

The cum that filled you that night was the only cum that could fill you so deeply, that changed you for good.

A flash of silver would appear between your legs every night and you would think of how well he filled you, so perfectly lining up to the inside of your pussy.

But it would never be the same like that one night, with no one else.

It was only him.

It would always be him.

He was the only one that would ever satisfy you to your fullest.

And you knew that. 

#damien haas #damien haas x reader #smoshblr #smosh smut #damien haas smut #smosh #feral-teeth fics #feral-teeth fic #feral teeth fics #feral teeth fic #damien haas fic #smosh fic #smosh fanfiction #my fics #i hope those who haven’t read this eats this up like i do every time i read it #eat up damien babies #eat up 😈

[hedoublehell]

BITE

Damien Haas x f!reader

You wake up from a dream about Damien, only to find out reality may be better than anything your imagination could come up with.

SMUT -- 18+ ONLY!!!

Warnings: p in v, oral (both male + female receiving), degradation kink (slut + whore is used a lot), praise kink, spanking, dom/sub, dom!Damien, sir/master kink

Note: this is my first fic in about 5 years, so it may be a little rusty. but i hope you all enjoy!!

Tags: @agnewbones, @pedropascallme

“You’re this wet for me already?” 

Cold sweat dripped down the middle of your back outlining the edges of your spine. Reality came back as the pitch black darkness engulfed your vision, replacing the blurs of skin, purple hair, and that one smile that seemingly haunts your every moment whether you’re asleep or awake.

Fuck. Another dream about Damien.

You shifted from underneath your duvet, cold air freezing the damp spot between your legs that was not there when you originally settled in for the night. While you loved living with Damien, your body could not handle the consistent proximity of your bodies. Whenever you wanted food, he was already in the kitchen preparing something that he was going to surprise you and your fellow roommates with. If you needed to shower first thing in the morning, you would come out of your room only to hear Damien’s singing over the monotonous rain of the water pressure. Even at work, you could not shake him, often going out for coffee runs together in between shoots. The only aspect of your life that he was void from was the one that your subconscious craved him in the most. 

A sigh escaped your lips as you slid up your silk sheets into a sitting position. A subtle blink of baby blue light emitted from the digital clock that rested just off to the right of your bed. 3:47 am. 

The ache of need still pulsed in your core, even as real-life came creeping back in. It pounded against the inside of your thighs as the slickness of your excitement dribbled down your panties. Whatever Dream Damien did,  your body wanted more, and knowing that Real Damien was only two doors away made it even worse. Thankfully the room just before his was the bathroom. A cold shower was desperately needed, no matter the time.

You stumbled out of bed, your ragged graphic tee hitting just above your waist leaving your baby pink boy shorts exposed. Considering it was 4 am, you didn’t see a reason to bring a change of clothes, or even a pair of pants, to the bathroom. It was literally the next door down the hall, and no one else should be up.

The house was eerily still, something that you weren’t used to while living with half of the Smosh cast. That, along with the fact that you were always the first one asleep, quiet was never something that you were able to fully experience. The only thing that interrupted it was the soft padding of your bare feet against the wooden floor, the coldness of it sent shivers up your shins. This silence continued until you got closer to Damien’s room.

A faint mumble of voices emitted from the other side of the door. You tiptoed closer, trying to decipher which anime he had decided to throw on as background noise. However, as quickly as you heard it, it stopped. The stillness returned.

Damien’s door swung open. His purple hair was illuminated by the fluorescents behind him, which created a lavender halo around his head. All he had on was a ratty grey undershirt and a pair of thin black and white plaid pyjama bottoms. Your eyes immediately darted to his biceps, admiring the way they flexed as he held the frame. The muscle rippled against the taut skin that encased it. Hair trailed down to his armpit, leaving speckles of black on the underside. A moan threatened to spill out of your lips at the sight, but you held it in. 

“What are you doing up?” His 4 am voice was rasper than you anticipated. Genuine concern spread across his face, knotting his eyebrows. 

“I- I couldn’t sleep, so I thought I might have a shower to try to relax.” Which wasn’t a lie, but it sure as hell wasn’t the full truth. Dream Damien’s doing ghosted your memory, the stickiness of your desire still glued between the crook of your thighs.

His eyes wandered down your frame, stopping a second longer at the heam of your shirt before continuing onto your naked thighs. Shit. Heat spread across your bare skin as his eyes fluttered across the nudeness that defined your lower half. A similar warming sensation welcomed itself across your cheeks as he returned to your face. 

“I didn’t think anyone else would be up…” You trail off.

“I’m surprised you’re up,” he whispered, not daring to look away from you. “I was just watching Demon Slayer, I only got up ‘cause I had to pee. Do you want to join me before you go back to bed? Totally cool if not. I get how hard insomnia can be, though.” 

Before you could stop yourself you were nodding. You knew it was a terrible idea, going into his room right after waking up gasping for him, but you didn’t care. Damien slid out from the doorway, allowing you to tiptoe into his space. Behind you he shut the door, followed by the patter of his feet descending down the hall.

Alone in Damien’s room, you were able to notice more than you ever had. The muted light of his lamp in the far corner illuminated the grey walls which were littered with posters from various projects he had worked on over the years. A television was mounted directly across from you; it was still on Netflix, but it had resorted to playing a slideshow of upcoming titles while it waited for the show to be resumed. His sheets were softer than you remember, the fabric of his duvet caressed the back of your legs as you pushed yourself up against his headboard. His Snorlax plush leaned against your torso as it reacted to the new weight on the mattress. Everything smelt like him. Everything was him. 

Moments later a creak echoed throughout the space as Damien returned. Silently, he walked to his bed and let himself flop beside you. As soon as he hit the mattress, a visceral craving for skin contact twisted your gut. Whether it was from lingering lust or exhaustion, you didn’t know. However, you remained composed, your fingers interlacing with themselves in an attempt to prevent yourself from reaching out and running the tips of them along his exposed skin. As if he could hear your inner dilemma, he cleared his throat.

“Are you okay? Did you have a bad day, or a rough dream?”

Dream? Your cheeks flushed with warmth as the word came out of his mouth just above a whisper. Did he know? Your heart pounded at the thought of him hearing you moan his name in your sleep moments earlier. Flashes of Dream Damien created a mosaic of colour inside your mind as your pulse began to creep its way down to your core. Your eyes remain glued to the ceiling, afraid that if you looked at Damien it would undo you right then and there. He couldn’t know. 

“Yeah, you could say that.” You manage to choke out. 

Weight shifted on the mattress, Damien’s dip coming closer to yours. His hand ghosted the inside of your arm, goosebumps erecting in its wake. His fingertips stilled in the crook of your elbow, lingering for a second before Damien retracted them back and shoved them underneath his head, interlocking them with the other set. As the coldness returned to the skin, a subconscious exhale escaped your lips. 

You glanced over at the purple-haired man beside you. The dull light softened his features, blurring them with the wall behind him. A 5 o’clock shadow speckled across his jawline and his chin, which emphasized the natural pout in his lips. Both the top and the bottom were baby pink and seemed extra kissable with the rest of the world asleep. A piece of dead skin hung from the top, slightly sticking beyond the rest of the pink surface. Your hands found their way to your knees and gripped them tightly, knuckles turning white. No one would have to know, right? 

“Hey Damien?” You whispered.

“Yeah?” 

“Why are you awake?”

Silence spread across the room once again. You could hear his breathing- somehow deep, yet ragged. Hesitation lingered in the air as Damien shifted in his spot, readjusting the position of his arms behind his head.

“It’s stupid, but I can’t stop thinking about how many takes it took me to do the intro to the new video properly. I tried so hard to be funny, but it felt like it kept on falling flat. I don’t know, maybe I had an off-day.” Damien sighs, keeping his eyes on the roof. You could feel his body tense up in fear of what your next words might be. 

“If it’s any consolation, I think you’re the funniest person on Smosh. In fact, you’re probably the funniest person I know. It’s so fucking hard to not ruin takes when you’re around, but I wouldn’t want it any other way. I promise you your humour lands. It at least does with me.” You shift down his headboard to lie down, turning onto your right to fully face Damien. A wave of his cologne hits your nose while you do so, leaving traces of pine, cherry blossom, and something spicy that you can’t quite place. The whiff of the scent subconsciously causes you to lean closer into him, in search of more. Notes of aftershave joined the mix while wetness began to dampen your panties once again, but you fought to ignore it.

His face brightened at the creation of eye contact. A smile erupted on his lips as he let himself take you in for a second. You could feel the movement of his eyes across your bare face while he attempted to memorize every detail of you, from the way sleepiness smoothed your features to the pimple patch that covered an outbreak on your cheek. Very rarely did he get to see you like this, in your most authentic form, and the sparkle that flickered in his eye let you know that he wanted to absorb every moment.

“Thank you, it means a lot to hear you say that.” He chuckled, a blush settling onto his cheeks. You reached out your hand subconsciously, letting it rest on his bare forearm. The heat of his skin seeped into yours.

“Sounds like we’re just two overthinkers tonight. I was so worried that you would���ve somehow known that I woke up because I had a dream about you.” 

Panic sets in as soon as it slipped out of your lips, the hand that was resting on Damien’s arm immediately flying to cover your mouth. Fuck. Damien automatically pulled himself closer to you, his eyes darkening with an unfamiliar cloud. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. 

“What kind of dream?” He growled into your ear. 

Need shot to your cunt as Damien moved himself on top of you, one arm on each side of your frame. His knee inched between your legs, the fabric of his pyjama pants rubbing against the thin layer of cotton that covered your core. A groan fell out of your mouth. 

“I think you already know the answer to that, Damien.” You purred needily. Your pulse erupted at the thought of what was about to happen— whatever it was. 

“Are you okay with this?” He murmured. 

For the second time within 20 minutes, you were nodding before you could give it a second thought. Desire dizzied around your thoughts and coated the space between your thighs. All you knew was that Real Damien was here and that he wanted you. That’s all you could ever need.

However, he didn’t move. You were pinned between his two arms, his biceps brushing against yours, sending electricity down your spine. His eyes seemed to consume you as he took you in, letting himself fully linger on the tightness of the grey shirt around your breasts before lowering his gaze to your baby pink boy shorts. 

“Tell me about your dream. Please.” He whined, want dripping in each syllable of his ask. 

“Y-you and I were fucking, Damien,” you groaned, “you had me on a table, legs open and I was dripping. So wet. So wet for you. I needed- no- need, you. Please.”

Your legs wrapped around the knee that rested between them, attempting to gain any form of friction, any form of relief. Damien sat up, shooting his hands around your thighs to prevent you from getting any satisfaction. He shook his head, eyes darkening even further. 

“Not yet, needy girl. I need to know more. I want to know exactly how you imagined it. Don’t you want your dreams to come true?” He cooed, his mouth curled into a smirk. Your eyes widened as you became delirious with excitement at the fact that Damien was in front of you- that he wanted you just as bad as you’ve been craving him.

”I don’t remember a lot, but- but you were fingering me. God, they were so filling. I was naked, marks everywhere on my chest from your lips. I woke up needing you more than I have ever needed anything, please. Please, Damien.” You whined, jutting your lower lip out. Damien’s eyes remained locked with yours as he leaned in closer, his hands dragging up your thighs.

“Don’t you want to see a man up close?” He whispered, his breath dancing along the nape of your neck. 

All you managed to get out was a “please ki-,” before Damien’s lips were against yours, devouring every inch of your mouth. Hints of toothpaste and mouthwash lingered on your tastebuds with every swipe of his tongue. His hands moved from your thighs to your shoulders, gently pushing you to lay down while he remained on top of you. He shifted around, moving his knees on either side of your legs. The hardness of his growing cock grazed against your inner thigh, causing wetness to begin to re-dampen the spot that Dream Damien left. 

The new position allowed him to let his lips explore, a trail of kisses left along your neck in his wake. Once he hit your collarbone, he began to suck ever so slightly. His teeth nipped at your skin, leaving a light purple mark in the middle of the skin stretched around the bone. A breathy moan escaped your lips as he sucked a new spot at the crook of your neck. Your fingers laced into his purple locks, gently tugging at them. In response, he looked up, concern painted across his face.

“Are you okay, am I being too rough?” He said, frozen in place. You shook your head.

“I promise I’m fine,” you breathed, “I just- please. Please use me, Damien. I need you to fuck me, use me like a toy. Let me make you feel good.” 

Darkness returned to his eyes immediately at the sound of your begging. His hands shot to the hem of your shirt while you arched your back, helping him take it off of you. 

“Oh my poor little thing,” he cooed while bending down to lick a stripe between your tits. “You need my cock more than you want to admit, don’t you?” 

Want surged through your core at the sound of his raspy voice mentioning the thing you’ve been wanting. You nodded, shivering at the thought. Gently he raised your ass, letting you shimmy out of your underwear. Wetness coated the inside of your thighs, droplets hitting the mattress underneath you as the cold air hit your cunt. Damien’s fingers tiptoed down your stomach, landing right above the dip towards your pussy. His other hand grabbed hold of your chin, jerking it toward him. 

“Say please,” Damien barked. 

“Please. Pl—”

His middle and ring finger plunged into your cunt. You let out a yelp at the sudden fullness. Slowly, he rocked them back and forth, letting the tips of his fingers brush against the spongy spot at your core. Moans spilled out of you as your fingers dug into his shoulders. As fast as it had started, he pulled his digits out of you, leaving you stretched and wanting more. A frown knotted your eyebrows in frustration while Damien was on the other side of the emotional spectrum, excitement lighting his features as he inspected his two fingers. 

“You’re this wet for me already?” He groaned, bringing his ring finger into his mouth and twirling his tongue around it, attempting to get every speck of your sweetness onto his taste buds. 

You squirmed in response, your eyes stuck to his digits in his mouth. Hearing Real Damien say the only words you remember from your dream overwhelmed your senses– this was a dream coming true.

He hollowed his cheeks against them, moaning as the tanginess of your desire flooded his tongue. After thoroughly sucking on them, he slipped them out of his mouth, creating a V shape with them. Bringing them back to his lips, his tongue darted out, tasting the last bits of you between his fingers. A hum of satisfaction escaped his lips as he looked up mid-swipe, catching you stare, mouth agape. 

“You like what you see, baby? You like watching me suck your juices off of my fingers?” He smiled, a mischievous glint sparkling in his eyes. 

“Yes sir,” you whispered, unable to look away from the man in front of you. 

Nothing else seemed to matter but the way his every motion affected your heart rate. All you wanted was him, any and all of him that he gave to you. Damien leaned down again, pressing kisses to your mound. 

“You’re not the only one who dreamed of this,” he muttered between nibbles, “I’ve been dreaming about having you since you moved in. Finding you not only outside of my room at 4am, but half-naked outside of my room at 4am almost made me to cum on the spot, baby.” He pushed your thighs apart before he dropped to kiss the inside of each, gently sucking up the stickiness that lined them. “I’ll worship this pussy as long as you let me. God knows how badly I’ve been needing it.”

His words shot straight to your cunt right as he dove in, parting your lips to connect his tongue with your clit. He slowly began swirling it around the spot, sending shockwaves down your spine. Curses spilled from your lips as he picked up the pace, your hands resuming their grip on his purple hair. Two fingers nudged at your entrance, still damp from the combination of your want and Damien’s saliva. He easily slid them in before starting to pump them in and out, matching the pace of his mouth. His digits hit the spot that you desperately craved, destroying the last bit of self-preservation that you had within you. Your walls tightened around them, desperately trying to get every inch of satisfaction possible from his mouth and hands. Nonsensical strings of words tumbled out of the slight part of your lips as the familiar swirl of pleasure circled around your core. Tiny sparks began to electrocute your clit with each flick of Damien’s tongue, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. However, as soon as your orgasm was about to spill, his fingers and lips were gone.

“You don’t think I’m really going to let you cum this fast, do you baby?” He smirked. “I’m not even undressed yet, and here you are, whimpering for my touch like the whore you are.” 

Your hands moved from his hair, letting him stretch straight up from between your legs. Your fingers reached for the hem of his tanktop at once, trying to get the fabric off of his torso. Damien took the hint and tugged each strap of the shirt before yanking it over his head and throwing it behind him onto the wooden floor. Without thinking, a gasp exited you. You’d seen Damien shirtless many times, whether in the dressing room or while grabbing your morning coffee from the kitchen, but this was different. Specks of black hair sprinkled his chest, concentrating in the middle of his two pecs. Lust surged through your veins as you devoured the sight in front of you, taking in every inch of Damien. Never had you seen a man be so easily beautiful, and it nauseated you how badly your body ached for him. 

Without breaking eye contact, Damien shuffled to the end of the bed. His thumbs dipped underneath the waistband of his pyjama pants and pushed them down to the floor, taking his boxers with them. 

“Holy shit.” You mumbled, your eyes surging down to the new part of him exposed.

His cock stuck out from between his legs, the tip of it glistening with excitement. All you could think about was how to get it between your legs as fast as possible, and how its girth would fill you so perfectly. 

“Damien, I need it. Pl-please sir.” You whined, glancing back up at his face. 

He stumbled back onto the bed, reclaiming his spot between your thighs. However, this time he remained sitting. His shaft rested on your lower stomach, causing your mind to short circuit with how close it was to where you had dreamed of it being for months. Heart pounding, you reached out, letting the tip of your index finger brush against the head. He visibly shivered in response, goosebumps spreading down his arms as a tinge of pleasure shot down his shaft. 

“I know you can touch my cock better than that, baby girl. Don’t be afraid.” Damien grunted, his eyes slightly closed in anticipation. Without a second thought, you sat up and spit in your hands. Greedily you grabbed his cock, fisting it. Your hands glided over the smooth, taut skin in a steady motion, occasionally flicking the tip with your thumb. A melody of grunts dripped from Damien’s lips as his hips matched your rhythm. 

Slowly you leaned forward, lining up your mouth with his shaft. You darted your tongue out between your lips, gingerly flattening it against the tip. 

“Is this okay?” You whispered, pulling back.

“God, yes.” Damien interlaced his fingers in your hair, encouraging you to continue what you had started.

Eagerly you wrapped your mouth around his shaft, hollowing your cheeks around it after it hit the back of your throat. You pushed it back out with a pop, a strand of drool attaching his head to your bottom lip. A smile crept onto your lips momentarily. This was not a dream, this was real. Damien’s cock was twitching with desire for you, nobody else. He was muttering your name under his breath as you licked a line from the base of his shaft to the very tip. Paying extra attention to the sensitive strip of skin at the connection point between the base and the head, you traced every inch of his cock with your tongue before returning it to the inside of your mouth. 

“You’re doing so good, baby. What a good little whore you are.” He sighed, grinding his hips into your face. 

Lightheaded with happiness, you gulped up the salty pre-cum that was dripping out of Damien’s cock. Momentarily forgetting about your own pleasure, all you could fathom was the feeling of his erection in your mouth and how pornographic the slurps were as you took as much of him as you could with each of his thrusts. Your cunt leaked with heat while you glanced up at Damien to see him slack-jawed, his eyes stuck on how your tits bounced in sync with his pushes. If you could frame moments, this would be your first choice.

Damien pulled his cock out of your reach, rotating his hips away from your mouth. 

“I think your pussy deserves to be used properly now, do you?” He asked, putting his hands under your armpits and shoving you back onto the bed behind you. 

“Yes, sir! I promise I-I’ve been so good,” You begged, subconsciously spreading your legs as you settled into the far side of the bed. 

Damien reached out with his right hand, letting it caress your cheek. Tears welled up in your eyes while excitement, desire, and anticipation danced through your mind. Damien leaned over to your left, fidgeting through his nightstand to find a tinfoil packet. He held the corner with his teeth and used his index and thumb to rip it open. Returning to the bed, Damien kneeled directly in front of you, lining up the condom with his cock. Slowly, he began to roll it on, letting the latex surround his stiffened shaft.

“L-lemme help, sir. I can help.” Your hand reached out, brushing his knuckles with the tip of your middle finger. With his free hand, he swatted your attempt at help away. 

“I don’t think so, baby. Master can handle it himself,” he chuckled, finishing the job. 

Leisurely, he thrust the tip of his cock into your cunt. With every centimetre of him, your brain flooded with fog, nothing else seemed to matter but the way his cock fit so perfectly inside, as if you were made to please him. Each muscle in your abdomen adjusted to the welcomed fullness that came with Damien, the pressure of satisfaction immediately building as he situated himself in you. 

A deep groan erupted from Damien as he flicked his hips back, fully taking his shaft out. As soon as the tip exited, he slammed his cock back in, letting himself bottom out in your pussy. 

“Fuck- Damien!” You cried. A pleasurable pain rippled through your cervix, sending shockwaves to your clit. Damien’s right-hand shot to your mouth, cupping it over your lips.

“You have to be quiet, whore. We can’t wake up the whole house with the noises you make while I fuck you.” 

His words shot right to your core, your whimpers muffled by the palm of his hand. Saltiness flowed down your cheeks as Damien continued to push and pull himself fully in and out of your heat. His presence was simply overstimulating, and all you wanted was more. The way his chest heaved as he plowed you was memorizing, its rhythm matched his thrusts inside you. Your fingers found their way to his ass, squeezing it tightly as he plummeted into your pussy. His shaft pushed deeper in response to your movements, causing both of you to hiss in satisfaction. 

“Oh fuck, you feel so good, baby. Fit me so perfectly.” Damien growled, throwing his head back, eyes glazing over. 

The vibrations of his voice darted to your clit, increasing the speed of your demise. The stubble of his pubes rubbed against your sweet spot, hitting it at a perfect angle. Damien’s hands wandered to your tits, giving your nipples gentle squeezes with his middle and thumb before rolling them. Mumbles of his title repeatedly spilled from your lips as you arched your back, letting his cock reach the soft spot inside. Sparks flashed in your vision while you came crashing down. Your cunt pulsed around Damien’s cock, extracting every ounce of pleasure from his force. Simultaneously, nothingness spread throughout your mind as you rode out your orgasm– the only thing that grounded you were the whines of pleasure escaping the man fucking you into oblivion. 

As you came back to reality, the only thing that you managed to get out was “more.” 

Without letting his cock leave your dripping pussy Damien immediately grabbed your waist, flipping you onto your stomach. With one hand he shoved your face into his mattress, the other looping around your hips to arch your back. 

“Good girl, knowing we’ve only just started.” His breath tickled your cheek, causing you to tremble. “I’m just getting warmed up.”

Without warning, his cock nestled deeper into your aching heat before fucking you with fervour. The mattress underneath squeaked with each rapid thrust, harmonizing with the slapping of skin against skin. Loudness no longer seemed to be an issue as Damien slapped your ass, the noise echoing throughout his bedroom. He continued to rub the reddened spot, circling the rough skin with the pad of his thumb. Your brain shortcircuited with each jolt of his cock, the way it was still managing to stretch you was all you could focus on. 

“S-so good, sir. Know how to fuck me so good. Love your cock.” 

With another smack on your behind he bowed down, his head now behind yours. 

“I know, ” he kissed your hair before tangling his fingers in it, pulling your head to become parallel with his. “Needed it so bad you couldn’t go a night without dreaming about how well I’d feel, huh? You’re that much of a greedy slut?” 

A whine fell from your lips as you brought your eyes to his. Through your lashes, you could see a wild smile painted across his lips, happiness radiating from his dilated pupils. Never had you seen a man look so beautiful while doing something so inherently filthy, and your cunt throbbed at the realization of it all. 

“I can’t be-believe this is real. I’ve been wanting this so bad, Damien.” More tears dampened your cheeks, the familiar tightness in your core forming once again.

In response, Damien leaned down, sloppily pressing his lips to yours. A mixture of saliva, spit, and tears smeared across your chin as he deepened the kiss, his tongue rushing out to collect traces of the salty combination. Damien’s free hand wandered down to the front of you, pressing his index finger to your sweet spot. 

Sobs fell out of you between each breath while a woozy wave of lust swept over you. The rewarding drop of the pit in your stomach broke through the dizziness. Deepening the arch in your back, the swirling sensation in your clit hit its breaking point. Your hands gripped the sheets in front of you in a frenzy as gratification washed over you. The walls of your pussy clenched around Damien’s shaft, the pulse of his cock hitting your g-spot as your body convulsed. 

“You’re such a good slut for your master, baby. G-gonna make me cum.” 

As your orgasm fizzled out, Damien continued to haphazardly rock himself in and out of your aching heat. Overstimulation stung your core, but you pushed it aside. The only thing that would stop you from riding this out would be if the world ended. All that existed at this moment was Damien, who was behind you, smacking his hips into yours as he chased his high. His grunts filled the empty air between you. With one last nudge, a rush of warmth spread through your cunt as Damien cried out in relief. His head hit the middle of your back as he crumpled, letting his orgasm take over. 

“Jesus, that was amazing.” He whispered, pulling out of you. Your pussy ached with both fulfillment and emptiness as you adjusted to the lack of him. 

You rotated onto your back, craving the view of Damien’s post-O face. He looked hazy, a dopey grin plastered to his face as he gently pulled the condom off before tying it and placing it on his nightstand. Immediately he reached down to you, enveloping you in his arms as he lay beside you. His scent had slightly altered from when you first entered his room, the smell of sex and sweat now intertwining with the notes of his cologne. If you could bottle that, you would without hesitation. 

“Thank you so much, really,” you smiled. “It wasn’t my intention to have this happen when I walked by your room, but I’m glad it did.” 

Damien placed a soft kiss on your lips. Unlike the previous ones you had shared, this one had a pureness to it. Your heart jumped a beat at the romantic undertones as the moment overtook you completely. Your head buzzed with contentment as the past 45 minutes settled in your brain.

“Me too, baby,” he mumbled against your lips. “I hope I made your dreams come true.” 

“You did, I promise,” you giggled, “but now I definitely need to shower.”

#damien #damien haas #smosh #damien haas fan fiction #damien haas smut #smosh rpf #damien haas rpf #damien haas oneshot #damien haas one shot #smoshblr #rpf #smosh fic #smosh fanfiction #smoshblr fic

[sassylegshayne]

simp notes

this is a bonus chapter for 'support your local caffeine dealer'

okay that being said AHHHHH!!!!! I've had this written for so long and ik chapter three of mmi is taking a bit so I wanted to post this now!! I love it, it's a peak into their relationship past the fic w lots of introspection from shayne, it's adorable! 2.8 words! enjoy xx mwah 💓

series masterlist

Shayne woke up much earlier than he planned to, so he found himself sat in silence at your shared dining table, staring at his mug of coffee. He unintentionally mirrored your actions in the exact moment that brought him to this point today.

The start of your relationship was a bit rocky, filled with pining and misunderstandings, but Shayne wouldn't change a thing about it.

Four and a half years, one shared apartment, and two cats later, everything felt right. Not perfect yet, but close. Your lives meshed together perfectly in every little way he never imagined it would.

You had similar food tastes, but neither of you liked the other person's favorite snacks or cereals, so no arguments about stealing. You like opposing chores, making it easily to share the weight. You showered at night, him in the morning. You liked the same books, so you shared your libraries now.

You'd been promoted recently, the position allowing a bit more flexibility with your schedule; so you and Shayne often woke up together in the morning and arrived around the same time at night.

The welcome addition of you to his friend group even meant that making plans was extremely easy. Shayne was also immensely thankful to have you with him at pretty much ever group outting.

He felt like you two knew every small thing about each other, so the secret he was keeping weighed heavy. For three months and twelve days he has been keeping the biggest secret from you, and everyone else.

The small velvet box sat in the bottom drawer of your dresser, stuffed between a pair of jeans that were actually too short for Shayne and a pair of Halloween themed sweatpants that matched a pair of your own. He could find it blindfolded at this point with how often he took it from it's spot, almost four times a day, contemplating when it would be the right time. It didn't feel right until earlier in the morning.

Just at 7:39AM, Shayne shot out of his sleep, his heart fluttering as he glanced over his shoulder, finding you softly snoring. His alarm hadn't gone off yet, the two of you didn't need to be up until around ten.

You had the day off and Shayne only had one shoot on his schedule, one you were going to be apart of.

You had been in a couple of shoots in the few years since your relationship had been known to the internet. Some fans had recognized you from the crew and casts personal accounts, especially Kimmy and Damien's.

You were very well received in your first appearance at Shayne's graduation, your speech bringing him and most of your friends to tears. After that you had been brought into an 'Eat It Or Yeet It" video, getting your first chance to witness your boyfriend's grave mouth first hand. After all of the love for you came in, you appeared on a Board AF' episode and began making memes for 'Who Meme'd It?'

You kept your privacy and boundaries still, your social medias were all still set to private, making it clear that you'd appear on occasions, but wouldn't join.

Shayne was fully supportive when you told him this after he mentioned the idea of you coming in for a video. You loved your job, having moved up into management of the shop, the promotion coming as a huge surprise to you, but not to Shayne.

Today you and Shayne were do on set at 2PM, shooting another TNTL episode, as per request of the other's lined up in the shoot. Damien and Courtney were quick to shoot Kimmy the idea, which wasn't hard to greenlight when the producer was your best friend. The easy part was over, convincing you was much more difficult. It tooka lot of coaxing from your friends, but Shayne remained neutral. It almost pissed you off that each time you asked him for advice on whether or not you should do it, he'd say it's up to you. Shayne couldn't help it, he still finds himself not wanting to push you too far, he still wants to protect you from anything he can. Most fans loved you, but what if it stops? He was still in shock of how much everyone seemed to like you. His heart couldn't help but flutter with pride and joy each time he read a comment that spoke highly of you.

It couldn't compare to the love Shayne has for you. He writes every small, tender thought he has about you down in his phone. He isn't sure when they started now, but it was definitely before you had started dating.

He started off using it to get things off of his chest, to write down the words of admiration that he wished he could tell you. Overtime it'd had begun to be every thought he'd had about you.

"I told the stars about you"

"you're the only one want to wake up next to"

"I wonder what goes through your mind when someone says my name"

Damien and Spencer have heard almost all of them, extremely supportive of him, always quick to call it sweet. That's then followed with different ways to call Shayne a simp. It turned into a joke between them, dubbing them Shayne's Simp Notes.

Gears were turning as Shayne shuffled from your bed quietly, grabbing his phone from the night stand before wandering into the living area, brewing coffee.

He took a deep breath, unlocking his phone as he finished replaying his morning in his head before noting the time. 8:17AM is when the perfect idea strikes, apparently.

Shayne was quick to open the notes app and begin writing out everything. He's loosely planned sketches for the show before but this was much bigger, he wrote out every detail to make sure it'd go right.

After about an hour of nonstop writing with Shayne's eyes glued to his screen, his coffee long gone cold, your yawn echos down the hall.

A smile stretches across his face as he finishes his last line, closing out of the app before setting his phone on the tabletop. You enter the room rubbing your eyes as yOu mile softly at Shayne. His ASU shirt covered your top half, an old pair of gym shorts covered your bottom.

Without a word, you made your way over to Shayne's lap, straddling him as you rest your head on his shoulder while he rubs your back gently.

The two of you tend to lay in bed together and cuddle if you're up before your alarms, enjoying the peace of being together before beginning your respective days. On the off days where that doesn't happen, you tend to make up for that lost time whenever you can, like right now.

"Ditch me on my day off, I see how it is." You chuckled as you sat up, rubbing your fingers lightly through Shayne's hair as he groaned playfully.

"I'm sorry, you're just dating an absolute genius, and I had a breakthrough, baby." Shayne laughed softly as you rolled your eyes; he moved to cup your cheeks pressing his lips to yours softly.

The two of you sat there for a bit longer, chatting until your alarms rang in your distant bedroom. You sullenly removed yourself from Shayne's lap, snagging his mug of coffee before disappearing down the same halway you'd wandered out of earlier.

"Ew, Shayne this is so old! How long have you been up?!" You shouted as your turned off the ringing, prompting a laugh from Shayne.

He makes sure to bring you a fresh mug, prepared just how you like as you're busy getting ready later. Your heart swelled at the small action.

It wasn't anything out of the ordinary from Shayne, he loved using small, subtle ways to show his affection. You always had fresh flowers from the very beginning of your relationship, sometimes you'd have more than one bouquet at a time. He's been a big fan of ordering things to you while he's away, off on shoots or even while hest at work.

He once ordered groceries to your apartment and video called you to cook together when he was on a trip to visit his parents.

You adored him so much. This relationship had far exceeded what you thought it could be, and you couldn't be happier. You're heart swells at just the thought of your boyfriend and everything he means to you.

The two of you arrived on set a bit early, giving you time to mingle with everyone. You were quick to dart from Shayne, heading toward Kimmy and Courtney across the room.

Shayne stood off to the side, staring at his phone screen once more. He felt like he was gonna scream, throw up, and cry all at once. He just needed to get through this. It's just an episode with his friends, he's gonna tell jokes and do his characters, his girlfriends gonna be there, it's gonna be amazing.

The box sat heavy on his thigh in the front pocket of his jeans, the outline barely concealed by the flannel he had buttoned over his white tee in an attempt to hide it.

Shayne eyed Kimmy, chewing his lip as she finally departed from her conversation with you. He was quick to grab her, requesting something weird of her. He needed you to go last, this wasn't something he wanted to have as the opening bit.

He kept the reasoning to himself, and Kimmy didn't seem too concerned about it so she happily agreed.

Once the others had arrived, Noah only setting the shoot back half an hour, they began rolling. You did great, getting Damien out quickly with an inside joke the three of you had shared after a trip to Universal one night.

Shayne was so nervous he found himself laughing his way through his joke, which eventually got Damien after it had become evident that Shayne wouldn't be able to stop his laughter.

His nerves had settled a bit, his arms wrapped around your shoulders, small kissed placed on your forehead between your bits, hidden by the divider.

You grinned as the end of the video neared, you being called to the yellow stool last. You filled your mouth with water and gave a thumbs up as you heard rustling from behind the divider.

"Okay, this isn't my turn but just wanna do this real quick" Shayne called out, peering around the corner as you shrugged.

After a few seconds, a toy crow flew over the clothing rack as Shayne belted out a purposefully bad impression of Train. You spewed instantly as cackling sounded from your boyfriend.

"I hate you!" You called out as you refilled your mouth, shaking your head.

"No, you don't." He called back, laughing.

The others' bits flew by as Shayne stood behind the divider, his wig and phone clutched tightly in his hands as he took deep breaths.

Shayne told you to close your eyes as he pulled on the curly, bob wig from a character of his.

You had a hate/love relationship of Shayne's simp character, Sir Phillip Simpne, so he felt it was right for this occasion. He had his phone hidden behind an open book as he moved to stand beside you on the stool. He cleared his throat, offering you a smile as your opened your eyes.

You groaned, keeping your mouth shut as you shook your head, determined to hold it over Shayne that he couldn't make you laugh with this bit.

"I haven't a poem for you today, m'lady," Shayne begun, trying his best not to laugh as you stared at him blankly. "I offer you something better. I bring love notes that I have written about the fair maiden before me today."

Shayne's palms felt sweaty as he looked down at his phone, deciding to drop the accent as he read to you, the giggles from others were silent to him.

"l'm gonna start from the beginning, kind of," He smiled, nodding as he looked up at you, removing the wig. "I wrote 'I never planned to like you this much and never planned to think about you this often' right before we started dating."

Shayne couldn't look at you as he felt tears prickle at his eyes, his throat running dry as he knew he'd run out of time.

Nobody in the room was counting anymore. Once Shayne had gotten more serious, the air in the room shifted and everyone grew quiet.

You sat in the chair, head tilted in confusion when Shayne had dropped the character, the game leaving your mind all together as you tried to process what was happening.

"Uh, 'I wonder if we ever think about each other at the same time.'" He kept his eyes on his phone, a bit scared to meet your eyes. You stared at him in perplexion.

"Okay, on my birthday I wrote 'of all the things my hands have held, the best by far is you', then the next day wrote 'there's been a place for you in my heart since we first met.'" Shayne sniffled, looking to you with teary eyes, chuckling a bit.

You took in his appearance with your brows furrowed, his cheeks were bright red, his blue eyes glistening.

"So, yeah, those are some of my Simp Notes." Shayne spoke softly as he caught sight of you laughing, some water dribbling from your lips.

You stood from the stool, taking a few steps away as you swallowed, wiping your mouth. You were still clueless as to what exactly was happening, but the name had caught you off guard and made you laugh.

Shayne felt like time slowed down, everything was going too perfectly as he removed the box from his pocket, your back still to him as you laughed.

He found himself grateful for your unwillingness to laugh at him, you allowed him to tell you some of the things he hadn't been able to before.

The energy had come back to the room, everyone laughing as soon as you broke, the assumptions previously made now leaving everyone's mind until Shayne drops to one knee.

A few gasps are heard as you turn back toward Shayne. small shriek leaves you as your eyes widden quickly at the sight.

You two had talked about marriage before, and you both wanted to get married, but you didn't expect this. Nothing could've given this away for you.

"I wanna spend the rest of my life making you laugh." Shayne chuckled as you laughed a rolled your eyes as the purposely bad joke.

"Y/N, will you marry me?" Shayne's voice barely audible, the crew further back hadn't even heard him ask.

"Yes, Shayne!" You squeal, your boyf- no.

Your fiance is quick to grab you, wrapping his arms around your waist as he lifts you up. The two of you are a mess of tears, smiles, sniffles, kisses, and whispers as the room is filled with cheers.

You and Shayne are quickly enveloped with loads of your friends, the shock and excitement evident throughout the room.

After a few minutes, Kimmy hugs you and Shayne tightly, congratulating the two of you continuously, quickly gasping as she looks up.

"I can't believe you didn't tell anyone!" Kimmy sniffles, smacking Shayne's chest lightly as he laughed. You looked to him with wide eyes, quickly looking to Damien in confusion as he shook his head.

"Yeah, I've had the ring for... uh, some time now" Shayne laughed, blushing brightly as you at him in awe. "I wanted to surprise you, and| wanted to have a bunch of people we care about with us to celebrate, it just felt right."

Shayne couldn't hide his embarrassment as you wrapped him into another hug, the two of you embracing each other for a few moments, happy tears falling from and for the couple.

"Oh my god, we're still doing a video, holy shit." She laughs, wiping her own tears as she quickly moved out of frame, the rest of the crew following suit. The cast quickly surrounded you once more, each with bright smiles and tear stained cheeks.

You sit back on the stool, grinning as Shayne stands beside you, his arm draped over your shoulders.

"Pst." Damien called loudly from Shayne's other side. "You should give her the ring, Shayne." He whisper-yelled, causing a fit of giggles to ripple through everyone, both you and Shayne blushing deeply.

He fumbles a bit as he opens it again, pulling the delicate, ornate ring from the box before sliding it on to your finger.

You pressed your hand on to your lap, grinning as you stared at the accessory that fit you perfectly in every way.

"I could not imagine being a comedian and having to go on after this guy." Spencer called from out of frame, causing Shayne to cackle.

You guys were quick to wrap up your outro, Shayne still wrapped around you the whole time, placing a kiss to your forehead as they called for a wrap on the shoot.

This was the perfect he was looking for.

#AHHHHHH #i love this so much #i started writing this before i finished chapter four #this fic is my favorite #its my baby #this is my pride and joy #shayne topp au #shayne topp smut #shayne topp x reader #smosh shayne #shayne topp #shayne topp imagine #shayne #smosh #damien haas #kimmy jimenez #Spencer agnew #sylcd tag #mine #smosh au #smosh games #damien haas imagine

[jovenshires]

endless au edits: smosh theatre's seasonal lineup (1/4)

SMOSH'S SEASONAL LINEUP: A COMPLETE GUIDE by mac kahey smosh theatre, a musical theater company known for its diverse and inclusive productions, has just announced its show lineup for the year, and it is safe to say that fans are far from disappointed. starting off strong, the company kicked off its announcement with its winter showcase: a production of hadestown, led by stars damien haas and jacklyn uweh, and directed by none other than returning smosh co-founder, anthony padilla. padilla made his comeback to smosh a little over six months ago to collaborate with his fellow co-owner on their spring and summer musicals. this will be padilla's first solo show at the playhouse in nearly six years - and what a show to start off on. coupling this tragic tale of love lost with padilla's edgy direction style is a bold move, and fans are, rightfully, excited. the casting choices are also impeccable. the star-studded lineup includes previously-mentioned damien haas, an openly neurodivergent and queer actor making waves for representation everywhere. he'll be taking on the role of orpheus, a hopeless romantic, poet, and musician, and as someone who had the pleasure of sitting down with him for an interview last spring, all of these qualities describe haas to a t. this will be his first time leading a show with smosh in his near-six-year run at the company, and his first time working with padilla as a director. the actor shared the show to his instagram and expressed his excitement for the production, saying, "anthony is such a great director. it's been an honor to work with him and my amazing castmates." speaking of his castmates - his leading lady is none other than superstar jacklyn uweh. returning from her recent stint touring with the cast of spring awakening, she has rejoined the smosh cast for another performance that's sure to be amazing. the actress is known for advocating for women of color in theater spaces and never being afraid to speak her mind. she also, notably, has one of the most incredible singing voices of our generation. taking on the mysterious yet powerful role of eurydice will be no easy feat, but somehow, i think she has the power to manage it. just with this one casting, smosh has shown that when the perfect cast falls into their lap, they aren't foolish enough not to utilize it. the stacked cast doesn't stop there, though. playing hermes, the play's narrator and father figure to young orpheus, is ify nwadiwe, a booming comedic actor who has been known to feature in smosh productions. his fun-loving demeanor and natural swagger are sure to bring a natural carefree energy to this rendition of hadestown. he, too, spoke of the production fondly on social media, posting on x: "this is one of the greatest things i've ever been a part of. come see us next december to february at the smosh playhouse for one of the most incredible, f***ed up things we've ever done." long-time smosh player keith leak jr is taking on the role of hades, the rich, powerful, and egotistical king of the underworld, and his friend and partner in all things theater, olivia sui, will be beside him once more as persephone, hades's free-spirited yet suffering wife. watching these two together is always a delight, and i cannot wait for their dynamic to shine through the characters that they play. as far as the winter production is concerned, the community's shared high hopes for padilla's return may very well turn out to be grounded in reality. with an all-star cast and an incredible crew, such as returning stage head erin dougal, it is easy to see that padilla knows what he's doing. though only time will tell, i am confident that this production will be a huge success, and very well may be my favorite show of the year - although, i must mention the other productions first - because they all have incredible potential.

#smosh #damien haas #jackie uweh #anthony padilla #rpf #fic #edit #smosh au #mine* #aued* #au #anthony #erin #keith #olivia #ify #jackie #damien #theatre au #mOOOOOOOM katie's making a convoluted au again!!! #i needed to see them in musicals okay. sue me. also this was Too Good not to do you can fight me on it #i believe in queue! spring break!

[ourheartofthecards]

#i need someone to write a damangela apocalypse fic #please! #damangela #damien haas #angela giarratana #smosh games #mygifs #ourqueueofqueues

[zilaphone]

Smosh fic writers + readers I have a question: when you write/read characters like the Chosen, Augustus, Brianna, JDB etc- do you picture their exact cast member as you write them? a younger them (a good chunk of fics have them in high school)? cartoons? I'm genuinely so curious

#this sparked bc so many writers mention that they're writing about the character not the cast member #so i wonder if that distinction carries over to how you see them too #me personally it's like I'm watching a nickelodeon sitcom with all the traditional actor blocking for the camera's sake #notably i don't see them as their 30 y/o actors somehow my brain has hazily deaged them to about so random age but like. edgy ofc #smosh #shayne topp #the chosen #damien haas #ausgustus st cloud #courtney miller #Brianna Boho #spencer agnew #john d. bad #john down bad #smosh fic #smosh fanfiction

[smoshpvnk]

moodboard for no place i’d rather be 🍁☕️📔

#i forgot to post this when i published the fic #shaymien #moodboard #my fics #fics #my writing #smosh fics #smosh fanfiction #smosh rpf #rpf #shipping #shayne topp #damien haas #shaymien fanfiction #shaymien fic #p

[supremecourtwitch]

Lex Foster: You have two choices, abandon your god or burn here with him.

Mr. Grub: Abandon both your god and your dreams.

Angela: It felt like it went everywhere but it's nowhere.

Mr. Grub: You are ready to open yourself up to the arcane arts.

#lex foster #mr grub #smosh #let's do this #damien haas #angela giarratana #starkid #black friday #i am THIS close to writing a fic where instead of the general mr grub appears

[girl-with-an-orange-cat]

First EVER fanfiction. Long time reader though. This came out of a joke on a group chat about a person posing without underwear on.

Please note this is COMPLETELY FICTIONAL and is taking a lot of liberties with personas portrayed on camera.

Anyway enjoy. Pt.2 coming soon.

You're on set as a PA and you're one of the few crew members who have yet to be shown on camera. You're slightly relieved at this and the cast all know it.

Shayne has made it his running joke with you to make seem like you've been caught on camera doing something ridiculous, "oooooh you'll NEVER guess what we found on the last edit session!" was usually followed by something you had done on set that day which caused your anxiety to flare.

Thankfully he was usually distracted by something Courtney said or Damien interrupting to grab your attention. They both knew you wouldn't be able to handle much more of Shaynes jokes and didn't want to see you get embarrassed at work.

Today you're on set because it's the promo shoot for Smosh's sleep over. You know a lot of vlogs are happening behind the scenes and you're doing your best to stay hidden while getting work done. "Hey! Uh, can I get a dressing gown or something?" You hear from Damien inside the bathroom. You're the only one nearby so you knock on the door and ask what's up?

"Oh, uh *name* nothing, nothing's up. I just feel a little exposed" he swings open the door to show his sleepover attire. Nothing exposed or showing from what you can see, but Damien has a slight blush growing up his neck to his cheeks.

"You look fine to me, uh great even, very sleep appropriate."

He nods and makes his way to the stage where it's been dressed to look like the sleepover set. While his back is turned you take a moment to look him over. To make sure everything is where it is meant to be, only to see he has his mic pack on the back of his pants and its weight is dragging the flannel down a little.

"Damien, wait! Your package!" You say, admittedly a little louder than normal. He stops to look at you confused as you rush to him and grab at the pack.

"You won't need this and it'll mess up the shot" you say, pulling at the cord. While you do this your hand is brushing his hip and tummy, not the first time this has happened. However, his flannel pants aren't sturdy enough to take the weight of the pack and the movement causes you to see that he has gone without his underwear.

You're doing everything to keep your breath steady and remain professional as you try and lighten the tension you suddenly feel with a joke. "Is this, uh, is this why you wanted a robe?"

#damien haas #smosh #smosh games #jesus fucking fuck #damien haas imagine #damien haas x reader #damien haas photoshoot #imagine #smosh games imagine #smosh fic #smosh fanfiction

[fanbynature]

concept: them starring in a period drama as a couple in a lavender marriage

#should i write a fic abt this? #hmmm idk #smosh #smosh games #board af #smosh gifs #smoshblr #smoshedit #damien haas #courtney miller #youtube #gifs #mygifssmosh #fanbynaturegifs

[pedropascallme]

Lessons in Patience

Pairing: Damien Haas x f!Reader

Summary: "You fled back to the comfort of the bed, eyes fixed on the back of Damien’s head as you let your hands roam your body. You’d have to work to get his attention, but that was where the fun began, and from there it was a game you both knew well and enjoyed playing."

Warnings: SMUT (18+ MINORS DNI) p in v, spanking, biting, multiple orgasms, oral (f receiving), very brief mention of bondage, brattamer!Damien, dom/sub dynamics, creampie, cum play, daddy kink, praise, degradation (use of the word slut. Like, a lot), if I missed anything please let me know!!

AN: Guys I might be a whore. And also I don't know how Elden Ring works.

The room was still. Only soft background noise reminded you of your surroundings; the dishwasher churned across the house, loud enough to hear it from behind the closed door of the bedroom. In the far corner, Damien sat at the computer, and you listened to the inconsistent clicks of the keyboard and brush-like strokes of the mouse. The TV at the foot of the bed where you lounged played reruns of shows you’d never watched when they were originally airing, and the lull of voices and laugh tracks roused you from an otherwise silent repose.

You liked the lazy days; the days when you had nothing to do, when Damien had nothing to do, when neither of you had anywhere to be, and neither of you had anything to get done; you could just take up space in the house together without the fear of being late to something, or worrying about whether you’d be home for dinner.

Really, beyond that, it was about the love you had for him even in the stillness; the way his presence soothed you from across the room, the occasional moments where he’d disconnect himself from whatever he was messing with on the computer to grab at your leg lazily and squeeze your thigh—like he was relieved to feel you still there next to him.

It was a relief to have an unhurried day, where you could dawdle and stay in bed and do nothing. But days like this always gave you the time to let your mind wander—allowed you to fantasize about all the things that could take up the quiet space of the bedroom. And Damien was always at the center of your thoughts, always in the foreground of your daydreams, making you feel warm and fuzzy.

And who could blame you? He sat with his back to you in the desk chair, long-sleeved shirt hugging his biceps, and you could make out the faint lines of his shoulder blades when he stretched. His hair, grown out enough now that his brown roots were visible under the silver dye, fell over his ears and eyes, and curled inwards at the nape of his neck. When he pushed his bands from his face, you could see small tan lines that had formed on the fingers he usually wore rings on. You bit your lip, recalling the contrasting feel of the cold metal and his warm hands against you. Inside you.

His nail polish was chipped, maybe you’d paint them for him tonight.

Still half-dressed in just a shirt, fabric barely hitting your thighs, you stretched yourself out of bed; your feet hit the floor before you actually stood up, back still resting on the mattress before you found the motivation to push yourself off with your elbows and stand up straight.

You padded over to Damien and wrapped your arms around his neck, hands falling over his front and nails scraping gently at his chest and stomach. He reached behind the chair, trying to pull you forward and allow himself to get a better grip on your waist.

“Hi, baby,” He turned the chair slightly and encouraged you to face him.

“Hi,” You followed his lead, situating yourself to stand between his knees, hands on his shoulders as you leaned down to kiss him. “I want you, Damien.”

“Me, Damien?” He laughed up at you, and you made a face in jest.

“Please?” You tugged on his shirt, bunching the fabric over his chest and pulling. He held your wrist limply in his hand.

“I gotta finish here,” he removed your grip from his shirt and kissed your knuckles, “Then I’ll give you anything you want, princess.”

“You have to finish playing Elden Ring?” You ribbed his professional tone, “That’s a must right now?”

“Just need to—I’m running through it so that I know what to expect on stream. I'll be at a save point soon.” He reached out to trail his fingers over the exposed part of your thigh. You hummed at the contact, the heat from his fingers leaving a gentle path over your skin. You wanted so desperately to have him, to feel all of his body against you, but you respected that he was in the middle of something.

Still. That respect only went so far; if it had been emails, Smosh related or otherwise, or editing, maybe you would’ve exercised more patience. Would’ve crawled back into bed and turned up the volume on the TV a bit to keep yourself occupied. But both of you knew Twitch streams were of a more minor importance to him than something like voice acting calls with his agent or zoom calls with coworkers; you considered his transparency about what he was doing as him giving you permission to play dirty.

Especially since you could tell he was nearly done with this run through—you recognized the save point as it approached.

“Ok,” you purred, the picture of innocence despite the thoughts running through your mind, “I’ll just start by myself.”

“Yeah?” Damien looked up at you, turning his chair back to face the computer with his brow raised, amused. “Good luck.” He resumed the game.

You fled back to the comfort of the bed, eyes fixed on the back of Damien’s head as you let your hands roam your body. You’d have to work to get his attention, but that was where the fun began, and from there it was a game you both knew well and enjoyed playing.

You lifted the hem of your shirt, fingers gliding over the skin of your stomach and downward to your cunt. You pressed two fingers to your clit, working up the courage to make a sound, give him a signal that you had followed through on your threat. Your body responded in kind to the feather light touches you gave yourself, and without having to try, a breathy moan escaped your throat.

You watched Damien square his shoulders.

“Better not be doing what I think you’re doing.” He didn’t turn around, still moving the mouse.

“Just making good on my promise." You whispered, sweet and quiet. You continued rubbing circles over your clit, exciting the nerves throughout your body, the natural lubricant of your slick becoming more apparent as your arousal grew.

Damien turned the chair around, still sitting as he watched you touch yourself. You paused your movements to make eye contact with him, and you could see the way his eyes darkened when he lowered his gaze and saw your hand connected to your bare cunt.

“Well keep going, then,” his voice was like gravel, “You want to do it yourself? I won’t stop you.” He folded his arms, nodding at you, “Let me see you struggle to make yourself cum, baby. Want to see how hard it is for you to do what I do.”

His words ignited something inside you; fueled by playful spite and an urge to continue your bratty show, you plunged two fingers into your heat. You took a sharp breath, lips parted as you curled your fingers to press against the soft flesh within you. The muscle in Damien’s jaw tensed and his nostrils flared just enough for you to notice. You just smiled.

“Feels good, daddy.” You squirmed slightly around the intrusion of your own fingers. In truth, your own hands could never provide the type of bliss his could; yours were smaller, shorter, all-around inferior to his when it came to providing you satisfaction.

But that wouldn’t stop you from trying. Not when you had a show to put on.

Damien shifted in his seat, bottom lip between his teeth while he watched you fuck yourself open as best you could. “I bet.”

You lifted your hips from the mattress, supporting yourself with your back, feet planted firmly on the bed. This new angle was a godsend; you could reach deeper within yourself, the crevices of your walls shifting around your fingers and showing you the hidden spots that knocked wind from your lungs. “Fuck—oh my god.”

“I’d have gotten you there by now, you know.” Damien seethed in his chair, unmoving, teeth gritted. “Would’ve been so much better if you let daddy do it for you.”

He knew you were struggling to find the tipping point, knew you had to stretch your fingers to reach the spots that required stimulation, knew you were imagining his hand instead of yours.

“Don’t need—don’t need daddy to do it for me,” your smile was absolutely devious, and the moans that fell from your mouth downright filthy. “I can do it by myself. I can…so close...”

“Show me, then.” He demanded, standing and making his way to the bed, “You don’t need my help?” He settled in the spot next to you, crowding you on the mattress while you drove your fingers in and out of your entrance, his lips brushing your temple when he spoke. “You don’t need my fingers? Hm? Don’t want my cock?”

Your façade faltered, but you managed to keep yourself distracted from his words with the way your fingertips grazed your most delicate spot. “I can—do it,” you reassured him, mocking tone coming across more stilted than you had intended as you wrestled with your own body.

“No you can’t, baby.” He smiled, hand coming to sit on top of your own, moving with you, “And if you do, you’ll be in so much more trouble than you already are.”

Something about his voice, the deep vibrations you felt in his chest combined with the soft touch of his big hand over yours; the mock frustration you had with him, and the real frustration you had with yourself as you tried desperately to cum; the way his eyes pierced through your own, it all worked together to spur you on. With the encroaching weightlessness you felt in your limbs, and his breath against your cheek, you finally reached the edge.

You let your head fall back against his shoulder, grinning wide as you pumped your fingers in and out for the last time, letting the heel of your palm push against your clit. You were breathless, tired, but not as satisfied as you knew he would’ve made you.

You turned to him, and he already had his gaze fixed on you.

“Couldn’t help it,” you mumbled, “Felt good.”

“Just good?” Damien stared you down, removing his hand from yours. “We both know that good isn’t good enough for you.”

“You’re just jealous that you didn’t get to do it.”

“Yeah. I am.” He stood again. Before you could ask where he was going or what he was planning, he wrapped his hands around your ankles and pulled you sideways over the mattress until your legs hung over the side of the bed. He flipped you onto your stomach, raising the hem of the shirt you still wore to expose your slick-coated cunt.

“You’re so impatient, baby. If you wanted to cum, you could’ve just asked.” You could feel the fan of his breath, cold against your wet cunt, as he kneeled behind you, face centimeters from your entrance. “But since you put on such a nice show, I think I’ll do you one better.” He admired the sight before him, one finger trailing over your slit to collect your wet. He pulled back and sucked the gathered moisture from his hand.

“Oh, I bet,” you goaded him, even despite the position you were in and the punishment you knew you deserved. “This isn’t much of a punishment, daddy.” You giggled into the blankets, bunching the comforter against your face to cushion you and hold the noises you made.

“We’ll see.” He straightened out slightly and delivered a hard smack to your ass. You yelped, moaning at the sting and suddenly ready to obey his every word. “Count them.”

“Was that—does that count as one?” You questioned, sticking your ass out for him and waiting for his hand to come down again.

“Princess, you really think that all you’re getting is a spanking?” Damien soothed the skin he had just slapped, rubbing his palm in circles over your ass. “Didn’t say I wanted you to count the spanks, baby.”

“So wh—Oh, my god—” You couldn’t form the question, and as it turned out, you didn’t have to ask at all—he was one step ahead of you. His fingers plunged deep into your entrance and immediately sought out the spot you’d had so much trouble finding just minutes ago.

“You’re gonna count how many times I make you cum." He bit into the flesh of your ass before trailing his tongue down and over the skin of your thigh, eager to sample every inch of you, undeniably turned on after watching you fight so hard to make yourself cum. “And you’re going to tell me how good daddy makes you feel. And you’re going to say thank you every time.” You let out a low moan of his name, and his hand connected in a sharp smack with your ass once more. “What'd you say?”

“Yes, daddy,” Your words were muffled by the blankets you bunched in your fists, but that did nothing to hide the excitement in your voice.

“There you go,” he removed his fingers, licking a stripe from your clit to your hole, “Knew my good girl was still in there somewhere.” He spread you open, spitting, and watching the strand of saliva drip down from your asshole and over your cunt. He leaned forward, giving in to temptation and tasting you.

“I am good! I can be good…” You whined, squirming at the feel of his stubble against your skin as he ate you like a man starved.

“Prove it,” strands of spit connected his mouth to your cunt as he spoke. He licked another stripe over you, biting your thigh, “Prove it, baby.” He returned to your core, licking into you and occasionally brushing over your clit. He bit into the skin of your other thigh before he again took to fucking you with his tongue.

You moaned at the feel of his teeth on your skin, and moaned louder when his tongue pushed into you. You reached behind your body, trying to find the leverage to push him further against you, but he grabbed your hand before you could lace your fingers through his hair.

“I don’t think so,” he pushed your hand away and smiled at your frustrated moan. “I kept my hands to myself when you were playing, didn’t I?” You let out a quiet sound and he pinched your clit between his thumb and forefinger, making you gasp. “Words.”

“Yes, daddy.”

“Yes what?” He rolled your clit in between his fingers, torturously slow and forcing you to buck your hips into nothing, so desperate for more.

“You kept your hands to yourself.”

“So…?”

“So, I need to keep my hands to myself.” You whimpered when he removed his grasp on your clit, opting now to massage it with two fingers.

“Good, baby,” he praised, keeping his fingers steady on your clit. He spit onto your cunt again. “Remember that. Don’t make me tie you down.”

You whimpered at his words, hoping that he’d follow through on that threat—if not now, later.

“Oh, you like that?” He pushed three fingers into you, relishing how you arched your back and moaned his title. “You know, for someone who claims to be so good, you act like a slut.” He moved his hands in sync, fingers punching into you, his opposite hand kneading your clit. “Are you a slut, baby?”

You nodded vehemently, gripping the comforter, so close to the edge you could taste it. “Yes—yes, daddy!”

“Yeah?” He curled his fingers, letting them brush repeatedly over your g-spot until he saw your legs tremble. “You like being a slut?”

“O—nly for you,” you had to think hard to form any words, your brain clouded with pleasure, “Only for daddy.” You tried, and failed, to support yourself on your hands, then your forearms; the sensation became too much, and your arms gave out under you, leaving you to tilt your head back so that he could hear your cries without the comforter muting them.

“I know. I know, baby. Only for daddy.” He cooed, hands working in tandem to help you reach your high. “Let me see how pretty my princess looks when she cums for me. Show me, baby, show me what a good little slut you are.”

You didn’t need to be told twice; you felt your abs tighten, panting as your walls clenched around his thick fingers, and you let your head fall flat onto the mattress. Your thighs twitched, and there were stars behind your eyes when Damien curled his fingers inside you one last time, stroking the delicate spot within you in time with the patterns he rubbed over your clit.

You felt heavenly, satisfied now more than you had been after your own attempt; you were fully capable of making yourself feel good, but he was capable of making you feel absolutely wonderful, and following the orgasm you’d forced from yourself, the one he gave you was so much better—positively perfect.

Damien stood behind you, leaning over you to move the hair that had fallen across your face during your squirmier moments, and to kiss your head. You could feel his stiff length pressing against you, and despite the exhaustion you already felt in your bones, your eagerness far outweighed any fatigue you had.

“Remember to count, princess.” He whispered in your ear between soft kisses pressed to your sweaty skin.

“One,” you mumbled, “That was one. Thank you, daddy.”

“Good girl.” He licked a stripe up your neck, and you mewled for him. He flipped you onto your back, and you looked up at him through your lashes. “You’re gonna keep being good for me, right?” He trailed his fingers down your thighs, moving back up to ghost over your sensitive cunt. You nodded, and he smiled, sharp teeth threatening to poke over his bottom lip.

“Gonna be so good,” You stretched your arms out, and he pulled you up to him with his hands on your biceps. You let him take your shirt off, collapsing back onto the bed with your hands above your head and your wrists crossed, giddy. He remained fully clothed, the silver chain tucked under his shirt only given away by the shine that circled the back of his neck. You couldn’t help but stare.

How could a man be just as sexy fully clothed as he was when he was undressed? You didn’t know how he managed, but you ogled him all the same, even in your post-orgasm haze.

His hands continued to trail your now completely naked body; thumbs brushing over your nipples while his hands groped at your breasts leisurely, dipping down to squeeze your hips and waist before returning to your heat to tease you where you were already overstimulated. He leaned over you, taking one nipple in his mouth and alternating between rolling it between his teeth and sucking on the pebbled skin. You grabbed at the blankets, anchoring yourself under him.

He undid his zipper, removing his now painfully hard cock from his jeans and letting it rest over your cunt. You gasped, moaning at the weight and feel of him. You wanted so desperately to touch him, and as if he read your mind, he took your hand and guided it over his length, effectively ending the "hands to yourself" rule he had been enforcing.

“You’re being so good, princess,” he let go of your hand and you hesitated, waiting for further instruction. “Go ahead. You’re allowed.”

You hummed, fingers sliding over the soft skin of his shaft. You teased his tip with your thumb, and he bit back a quiet hiss.

“This is what patient girls get, see?” He stroked your thigh while you ran your hand up his length, “This is what good girls get when they wait.”

“Thank you, daddy.” You were muttering, craning your neck to see how your hand looked wrapped around him. You clenched around nothing.

He gently removed your hand, guiding the tip of his cock to your entrance and rocking into you slowly. You felt the familiar, welcome pressure in your lower half; the way your body made space for him, let him stretch you out until you were a perfect fit.

“God, you take me so well,” He groaned, pushing more of himself into you and reveling in the way your warmth sheathed him. “So pretty, letting me get you ready with my fingers. This is what you wanted, hm? Needed attention?”

“Yes, daddy,” you couldn’t hide the slack-jawed look of scatterbrained bliss on your face even if you wanted to. “Needed you to make me feel good.”

“Cause you can’t do it yourself, isn’t that right?” He bottomed out with a low moan. His hands rested on your hips, forcing his cock to stay buried inside of you.

“Only daddy,” you arched your back, legs coming to wrap around his hips and let him sit even further within you, “Only daddy can make me feel good.”

“That’s fucking right." He smiled, grip on your hips tightening as he pulled out and drove back into you, pistoning his hips at a pace that he had clearly set in his mind prior to even getting his cock out. His bottom lip sat trapped between his teeth.

Damien alternated between the perfect views he had; your face, contorting in pleasure, pleas falling from your lips, begging him to go faster, harder, do anything to you, whatever he wanted, as your eyes rolled back; and your cunt, wrapped tight around him, taking what he gave you, your thighs soaked with your slick.

You were the only person he ever wanted to look at.

“Oh—fuck, that’s s-so deep,” Your head fell back, pushing against the mattress, as the feeling of his cock brushing your cervix made your lip tremble. “Daddy, just like that.”

He watched your hands roam over your abdomen, situating atop your lower stomach and pressing against the bulge of his cock inside you. He growled, reaching to grab your legs and pull them up so that your feet were resting on his shoulders. Your lower half lifted slightly off the bed, big hands moving under the curve of your ass to keep you there.

“Look at you, baby,” he admired the way you let him throw you around, “Getting fucked out like the pretty slut you are.” He could feel your walls fluttering around him.

“I’m goi—I’m so fucking—” You searched for the words, not caring when you couldn’t find them; you were certain he could take the hint from your frenzied moans and repeated cries.

“Are you gonna give me another one, princess? You gonna let daddy feel you cum?” His brow was furrowed, and he looked almost empathetic through his colder, dominant bearing. He leaned forward, pushing your legs towards your chest with your ass still in the air, and the shift in angle made you scream, forgetting every other word you’d ever known and replacing them with his name. You clawed at his back, nails slipping over the fabric of his shirt, and he laughed through groans while he ground his hips against you.

And then you were cumming again, his name and his title falling repeatedly from your lips, a messy amalgamation of curses and whimpers that you cried over, and over, and over again. He let your legs fall to the side, and you wrapped them around his hips again. He stayed inside you, cock still hard, twitching with the pulse of your cunt as you faced the aftershock of your orgasm. He thrust into you shallowly, letting you reacquaint yourself with your surroundings. He bent over you, holding your chin between his fingers.

“What number was that?”

“T-two,” you felt loopy, and you giggled against his mouth when he pressed his lips to yours. The kiss he gave you felt chaste, almost shy, in comparison to the way he fucked you, but you liked it; it encapsulated perfectly what it was like to be his—safe and taken care of—and you loved it. You loved him. “Thank you.”

“Good job.” He whispered against your lips before returning to the kiss. “Knew you could do it. Knew you’d be good for me—just needed a little reminder, right? Needed me to put you in your place.”

You nodded, officially lost to the submissive fog of your mind, focused only on being obedient for him. “Need daddy.”

“You have me, baby. I’m all yours.” He straightened, taking off his shirt and tossing it haphazardly somewhere on the floor. His jeans and boxers followed, joining the heap of discarded clothing in the corner.

You stayed in the spot where he left you, sticky between your legs and entranced by every movement Damien made.

He refocused his attention on you, his smile almost serene despite the fact that you both knew he wasn’t done yet. He once again found himself next to you on the bed, situating himself facing you and admiring the fucked-out look on your face. You reached out for him lazily, and he grabbed your wrists, holding your hands and kissing over your knuckles just as he had earlier.

“C’mere,” His hands found purchase on your waist, and he rolled over with you in his arms, prompting you to straddle him. “Gonna give me another one?”

“Please,” You squeaked, hands trailing down the expanse of his chest and over his stomach, grazing his soft skin with a hungry urgency. “I want more.” You looped a finger through the chain on his neck before letting it unravel and going back to your exploration of his chest. "Make me take it until I can't anymore, daddy, please."

“Slut.” Damien shook his head, laughing to himself about the bright-eyed way you took your punishment. He pulled you forward onto him, and you sighed dreamily; the warmth of his body pressed against yours like pieces of a puzzle, flesh to flesh.

He snaked his arm over your thigh and under your body, pumping himself in his hand. His other hand pushed up against your ass, encouraging you to raise yourself up to give him the room to push into you. You obliged, and though he’d already fucked you, made you cum twice, and overstimulated all of your senses, the first shove of his hips still made you gasp, astonished by the stretch and feel of having all of him inside of you.

“Fuck,” He leaned back, hands rubbing over the flesh of your hips in a show of affection and power, keeping you steady as he bottomed out. “Greedy fucking pussy.”

You had your hands on his shoulders, muscles sensitive from your prior orgasms and unable to sit upright. But you were both content this way, with your tits accessible for him to toy with while he used you. He sucked on the plush flesh, watching as purple bruises formed and nipping at them before turning his head to make another.

The familiar tug of some hidden chord inside you grew steadily. Damien raised his hips off the bed, simultaneously pushing you down onto him by your hips, resulting in his cock driving into you as far as he could possibly go at this angle. You gave up on trying to support yourself, collapsing onto his chest and wrapping your arms around his neck.

“What’s wrong princess?” He was taunting you, “Too much? Are you too sensitive to take what daddy gives you?” He wrapped both arms around your body, keeping you pressed against him as he thrust into you, hard and fast.

“N—o,” you moaned, unable to hide the satisfaction you got from his playful ridicule, “Feels—shit, I want—please, please, it’s so nice, daddy, feels fucking amazing.”  

“Yeah?” He moved one hand up to tug on your hair, easing you from your hideaway in the crook of his neck and forcing you to look down at him, “Tell me, baby, tell me how it feels when daddy fucks you.”

He kept his hand in your hair, the pull forcing your back to arch and letting him hit the best spots inside you. You weren't shy about the pleasure he was granting you.

“Amazing!” You clawed at his shoulders, shallow red marks that would fade within the hour painting the skin on his upper arm and over his chest. “Feels amazing!”

“What feels amazing?” He was smiling, taking great pride in hearing all the ways you responded to his movements and the way your mouth twisted to get the words out.

“Daddy—daddy feels so perfect inside me!” You practically sobbed it, overcome with the bliss of being full of him.

“That’s right. Tell daddy you love him.” He had to fight to hide the pleading cadence in his voice; somehow the strongest desire he had, even balls deep inside you, was hearing those three words fall from your lips.

“I love you,” You gasped, nails carving crescent shapes into his skin, “I fucking love you.”

He went slack jawed, the glee behind your words pairing perfectly with the way your cunt squeezed him. “I love you, princess,” He moaned it, “I love you so much.”

“Want—want you inside me all the time like this. Wanna feel you all the time, daddy.” Your legs hurt and your skin felt raw and tender, but, god, if you didn’t love moments like this.

At that, Damien let out a low growl, removing his grip on your hair and letting you rest your head on his shoulder once more. “God, you’re fucking needy,” he was fucking into you wildly, and the sound of skin on skin and the slick leaking from you created a chorus you could listen to for hours on end. “You want this cock all the time? Is that what you want?”

You nodded against him. “Please, daddy.”

“You just want to be all sore and sensitive for me? Let me fuck you all the time?”

“Yes! Ye—es!” You were drooling, the puddle of your spit mixing with the tears of elation that slipped from your eyes. Your clit dragged over him perfectly in this position, sending jolts through your already overstimulated body. You could feel yourself squeezing around his cock with every harsh ram of his hips.

“There you go, princess,” he felt it too, his excitement building alongside yours . “Give it to me, baby. C’mon and cum for me again.” He slowed his thrusts, letting you take what you needed; one of his hands found its way between your bodies and offered your sore clit a boost of stimulation.

That was what sent you over the edge—that, and hearing the way he praised you, the repetition of his moans and the way he called you so pretty, so good for him, an eager little slut who follows directions so well. You thought you might black out, so exhausted and spent, but still so desperate for him as you clung to his body through your orgasm.

“Thank you, thank you, thankyouthankyouthankyou!” You slurred your words together, high off the pleasure that fanned out from your core and across your entirety.

"Good, princess, that's right. Such good manners." Damien stroked your hair. "Gonna fucking cum for you, baby. Give you a reward for being so good for me, fill you up nice and deep." His long, unhurried thrusts led him to his own high, which he greeted with a groan and a drawn-out sigh of your name. You moaned, feeling the warmth spread over you, and you lifted your head to connect your lips to his.

He took his time, licking into your mouth and savoring the way you whimpered into him; it was messy and sleepy, and paired well with the tacky feeling between your thighs as his cum dripped from you, mixed with your own.

Damien flipped you over, supporting himself on his forearms as he looked down at you. Your eyes were glassy, miles away, hair sticking to your forehead with sweat and tears and spit, and he thought you were the most beautiful thing in that moment, and in every other.

He pulled out of you slowly, and you whined at the loss.

“Shh, princess, I know. It’s ok.” He ran his hands over your torso when he removed himself from you. “Hi, baby.” He ran his knuckles soothingly over your cheek, and you closed your eyes, humming. “What number was that?”

“Three.”

“Think you can give me one more?”

Your eyes went wide, and you bit your lip, unable to hide the dopey smile you got upon hearing his question. “Make me.”

“Fucking bratty—even after all this?” He laughed, kissing your nose before moving down your body and putting your legs over his shoulders. “You tell me if it’s too much now, alright?”

“I know, daddy.” Your words were defiant despite how limp and weary you felt. You stretched your arm down to stroke his cheek with the tips of your fingers.

“Think I would’ve fucked the attitude out of you by now.” He grinned, and you bit your tongue, giggling.

You watched him lower his face to your core, his breath catching on the sticky mixture that seeped from your hole and making you shiver. Damien savored the image before swiping his tongue through your folds, collecting the blend of your cum and groaning at the taste. You let your hands wander, one fondling your own chest, the other buried in his hair. Damien's hands roamed up and down your legs, brushing over your stomach and hips in an effort to ground you, to make sure you were comfortable and knew you were safe despite your current state of fragility.

Every movement of his tongue made you flinch, overly sensitive but loving every second you got to watch him between the V of your thighs. The light swipes of his tongue made the hair across your body stand up on goose flesh.

“Oh—” You let out a small gasp when he nudged your clit with his nose, tongue exploring your entrance. “Right there.” Your grip on his hair tightened, and he moaned against you; the vibrations made you tremble, and with little warning you were cumming again, whispering his name and words of praise and appreciation.

Damien rubbed your thigh, moving to lie down next to you. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into him. One of his hands pressed against your back, feeling your ribcage expand as you caught your breath.

“That was four.” You spoke after a few moments of silence, and he squeezed you against his chest. "Thank you, daddy."

“Didn’t even have to ask you that time.” He brushed the hair from your face and peppered kisses over your forehead.

“I know,” you leaned back slightly to smile up at him, proud of yourself, “I’m just that good.”

“So good. You’re so good for me.” He emphasized every word with a soft peck on your lips, and you laughed. "Always so good. So beautiful, so sweet, baby, and you’re all mine." His praise helped you come back down to earth, the haziness in your head caused by repeated stimulation easing up and being replaced by pure contentedness and tired eyes.

You realized the scratches you left on his chest were deeper than you’d intended for them to be, still stark against his pale skin, and you trailed your fingers over them.

“I’m sorry, baby. I didn’t mean to mark you up like that.” You lay your head against a pillow, intertwining your legs with Damien’s and looking up at him. You kept your hands curled over his chest, basking in the security you felt in the heat of his body.

“Don’t worry about it, princess,” he ran his thumb over your lips, and you kissed it, “You should see the other guy.”

“Bet the other guy is really hot…” You countered. “Probably really obedient, too.”

“Really hot,” he laughed, “But between you and me…kind of a brat.”

“Am not!” You pushed against his chest, and he caught your wrists, leaning forward to engulf you again and kiss your face.

“Oh, yeah?” He raised his eyebrows, “How’d we end up in bed like this?”

“No idea. I thought you knew…” You giggled at your own faux perplexity. Damien rolled his eyes, smiling.

“Do you want ice, baby? Or heat?” He nudged your nose with his. "I can run you a bath—or do you want me to get you the heating pad?"

“Ice.” You grabbed his arm when he moved to stand, “Later, though. Now I just want you. Please.”

“You’re not sick of me yet?” He returned to your side, letting your hands wander over him.

“You know, after four orgasms, you might think that,” Your hand came to rest on his stomach, tracing shapes over him, “But you’re just so enticing.” You toyed with his silver necklace. “Tell me, baby: was this worth the time you spent apart from your beloved game?” You teased, and he pulled you on top of him again, letting you sink lazily against him.

“Funny,” he smiled, one arm under his head to allow himself the full view of you on top of him. He ran his hand through your hair, lazy kisses landing on the top of your head, “Don’t tempt me to make it five.”

#damien haas #damien haas fanfiction #damien haas fic #damien haas smut #damien haas x reader #damien haas x you #smosh #smosh fanfiction #smosh fic #smosh games #smosh mouth #smosh pit #smosh squad #smoshblr

[hedoublehell]

does anyone want a snippet of my new damien fic…

#dove rambling #dove fics #damien #damien haas #smosh #damien haas rpf

[sassylegshayne]

support your local caffeine dealer: chapter 3

okay, okay I really feel like this is where the story starts to pick up, I hope y'all like it 💗 message me any thoughts about it!! this one is finally 2k words long!!

series masterlist🫶

texts will be bold and italicized like this

Shayne kept his word, even taking a different route home as to avoid passing by the shop. He almost couldn't bring himself to do it, but let's not dwel on that too much. He caught himself setting his alarms a bit earlier, hopefully giving himself the time to see you.

He's got a smile on his face as the familiar bell rings above his head at the start of the next morning, his eyes already searching for you behind the counte.

"Hey, getting the usual?"

He felt bad that he wasn't indulging in the lives of the employees, as he usually does, not wanting to put forth the effort for his small friendships today.

The man nods, relatively quiet as he pays and waits.

A small laugh from behind him catches his attention, turning to glance over his shoulder. You sat a few tables away, tugging your headphones off as you grin at him. Bite the bullet, you thought to yourself, you should enjoy these small moments with your favorite, pretty stranger.

"Come here often?" You chirp, chuckling as Shayne grabs his drink, shaking his head. You nod, motioning him over to you. You couldn't help but take in his outfit, his dark green shirt looks soft, fitting him well. Very well. As did his blue jeans, the small rips showing peeks of skin from beneath.

Shayne checks his watch, noting he could probably make it to work on time, he should take a few minutes to talk with you. He feels his heart racing in the best way possible, his palms begin to sweat again. The ability you held, making him more nervous than he thought anyone could, was something he hoped would never change.

"Ya know, I came here yesterday and the service was terrible, I don't know why I came back." Shayne chuckles, sipping his drink as he seats himself in the chair across from you, eyeing you over the edge of his cup.

You scoff, placing a hand to your chest as you shake your head softly.

"What a shame, you should talk to the manager about it," you shrug, leaning your arms onto the table.

"Not to pry into your life or anything but, what do you do for a living, Shayne? You seem to have quite a bit of free time to spend here."

Shayne nods, chuckling, it's only fair to share that information, obviously he knows where you work. Maybe this could be fun, sharing small parts of your lives with each other. This felt safe to him, this felt like a budding friendship, and he should allow it to happen.

"I'm an actor," he answers, waiting for any sort of eye roll or comment he's used to, but all he gets is an expectant look, you were encouraging him to continue. You wanted to hear mnore.

He allows himself to indulge, explaining that Damien works with him too, the both acting and staring as personalities on the internet. You thought it was cute, but didnt quite grasp the scale of how large their company was, and Shayne enjoyed that.

Itd been quite sometime since he'd met anyone who didn't have the same job as him, or didn't know him for his career. The two of you continued on for a while, lost in the small talk of getting to know each other. Small questions, where you were from, what brought you here; Shayne felt much more comfortable than he expected to when he satwith you.

He managed to speak to you, have a full conversation, he was proud of himself. And you were proud of yourself; you shared little, yes, but this was a beginning, this was a start for you two. Less strangers now, and that's what you wanted.

Shayne trailed off as his phone buzzes repeatedly, drawing his attention to the time. Forty-five minutes past the call time.

"Fuck.." The man muttered under his breath, running a hand through his hair and chuckling. "I'm sorry, I.. I really enjoyed this, Y/N, but am pretty late for a shoot.."

You looked to him with wide eyes, shaking your head.

"I'm so sorry, I really didn't mean to keep you here, butI had fun, this was nice." You offer, smiling brightly as he stands.

You chew your lip, grabbing a pen before taking his hand, quickly sprawling your number across his palm before you had the time to second-guess yourself.

"Text me or call me, if you want to." Your heart was pounding, a blush evident on your cheeks. What did you have to lose? If he texts you, that's great, if not, then you will continue on like it never even happened. Just two strangers whơve talked a time or two, nothing more.

Shayne looked from his hand, admiring your name scribbled beneath your number, back to you with a bright grin. He felt lighter, like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. You liked this, you enjoyed this enough to want to continue it. You wanted to text, to call, to give him more of your time, more of yourself.

"I will, I promise. I-I hope you have a good day, and, hey, maybe I'll see you tomorrow." He punctuates with a wink, spurring a small giggle from you, pink tinging your cheeks once more.

"Maybe I'll see you tomorrow, Shayne."

The man quickly exits the shop, stealing a look over his shoulder to find you meeting his eyes already, both of your faces plastered with small, shy smiles.

He makes quick work of texting lan that he'd overslept, he'd make it in a few minutes. He pocketed his phone as he entered the building, after adding you to his contacts.

"y/n☕" his screen read as he looked to the empty text thread.

His mind races with what to say, nothing seeming quite good enough, so he settles for sipping his drink. He'll figure it out later.

As he enters the set, his eyes meet Damien's, a smirk on his friends lips. Shayne shoots the man a confused look as he settles into his seat beside him.

"Late because you overslept but you still took the time to get coffee, hm."

Damien teased, prompting Shayne to tuck his drink beside his chair, under the table. He shrugged, wringing his hands together a bit nervously.

"I was already late, a few minutes wasn't gonna make it much worse."

Damien's eyes dart to Shayne's hand, his mouth agape as he breathlessly chuckles.

"ls that a phone number?"

Shayne shifts in his seat, hoping Damien hadn't caught your name inked into his skin as well. "Yeah, need to call about a casting for something, didn't wanna forget the number."

His chest burned as he spoke. He knew he didn't have to lie, he could've told his best friend the truth, and he wouldn't keep lying forever. He just wanted this to be his for now; wanted you to be his.

He knew his friends would love you, he knew you'd fit in, but for now, he was allowed to be selfish; keeping you to himself. You were special, he didn't want to rush anything. Shayne wanted you to be his, to share your light with his friends. But for now, you'd remain in his mind constantly.

You didn't want to admit it to yourself, but you were definitely waiting for a text from Shayne.

He's at work, he's probably just busy, he's probably with his friends, probably.. at lunch.

It sucked that you couldn't help your anxiety from putting you on edge, your mind running with every terrible possibility to explain why you hadn't heard from him.

As if Shayne knew, he finally got a free minute in his busy shooting schedule.

"hi"

He was already beating himself up, don't worry. He'd spent all this time dwelling on what he should say; maybe something funny, something flirty. But no, he settled for a simple hello.

"it took you that long to type two letters? very underwhelming"

Fuck, why would she say that? What has possessed her to immediately message him so rudely.

"Imfao, okay, that's fair. should start over? we can act like that never even happened"

He audibly chuckled, a bit surprised that she was so quick to poke fun at him. He liked a little bit of push and pull like that, the ability to bounce off of someone else.

"no, no, I'll take it, just try better next time"

She unknowingly brought another smile to his face.

"I gotta run back to a shoot, but talk to you later"

"maybe"

She was a bit giddy seeing him give her back a bit of the attitude she was giving him.

"ttyl maybe x"

His heart fluttered just a smidge when he reads the x. A hug? Cute.

Was he seriously overthinking a single letter in a text message from his favorite barista? He never thought he'd have a favorite barista, but here he stood, grinning at his phone.

Damien coughed a bit as he slid on to the couch beside his friend.

"You ready to tell me about it yet?"

Shayne mulled over his options yet again, still not certain what he should say, if anything at all.

"Well, I got her number this morning."

The brunette broke into a grin, eyebrows raised. Damien wouldn't have thought that he'd get that far, at least not yet. Shayne had been single for quite a bit now, unless you count a few unsuccessful dates. He'd seen Shayne do some shameless flirting with a stranger before, but something about this time felt different.

Damien nudges his shoulder into his friend's, nodding his head.

"I'm proud of you."

"She gave it to me."

This made him shrug,

"You still got it, you put forth the effort for it, didn't you?"

Shayne shrugged back, unsure of what exactly convinced you to give him your number, but he must've done something right.

Damien nodded, knowing exactly how Shayne's mind works, pretty much spot on for guessing his friends thoughts.

As you finish up your shift, your phone buzzes oftly in your pocket.

"no espresso now I'm depresso"

You coughed, caught off guard by the message, a bit of laughter spilling from you.

"that was terrible, I'm sorry about your lack of caffeine, but that was very, very bad"

She chewed her lip again, humming in thought before deciding she liked these small changes to see him much more than she thought she did.

"i can bring you some coffee if you want? can grab it before my shift ends"

Is he having a heart attack? Heart palpitations? All of the above? He tried to calm his breaths, his mind racing before he quickly moved through the office, heading straight for the games room.

He burst in as quietly as he could before heading toward Damien, who sat with headphones on, humming softly as he loaded into a game.

Shayne set his phone on the desk, the text thread lighting up his screen, allowing Damien to read over them.

As soon as the last message was read, Damien took off his headphones, spinning spinning his seat to face Shayne.

"Say yes, this is another opportunity to see her, and she'll learn some more about you." Damien encouraged, Shayne nodding his head softly.

Shayne didn't think he could speak, he might throw up. Why was he so nervous? She's just bringing coffee to his office, that's a very normal, very friendly thing to do.

"i'd love that, actually, but you don't have to, I can survive"

Shayne sat at his desk, his leg shaking in anticipation of a response.

"😇 send me the address, be there asap to help cure your depresso"

#AHHHHHHGGGGHHGSHAGAGGWWJHEHWJWJEHEJSHWHW #THIS CHAPTER OH NY GOODGSGGSGWGGAA #im in love w my own fic that's all i need tbh #anyways #tag time ig #smosh #mine #shayne topp #smosh au #damien haas #smosh games #damien haas imagine #shayne #shayne topp imagine #sylcd #shayne topp au #shayne topp x reader #shayne topp smut #Damien haas au #damien haas x reader

[jaxthejester]

i have returned from hell with a short Shaymien fic! 950 words, pure fluff, yeah! i wrote this instead of sleeping so please disregard any issues ok thank you love you bye <3

#shayne topp #damien haas #shaymien #smosh #cross posted on ao3 #if you like my fics pls leave kudos there!

[asexualasshat]

There are two wolves inside of me

One wants to write my It Reddie fic

The other wants to return to the Smosh shaymien fic I abandoned

#I just had a scene idea for the Smosh fic and I want to write it #but man the reddie fic is just getting good #and I don’t think I really have the ability to make progress on 2 fics at once rn #Smosh #shaymien #Shayne topp #damien haas #reddie #it movie #it chapter 2 #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak