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#then they complain when it’s low quality
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Sometimes I’ll be having a nice time talking to my friends and then they mention something like „oh yea my new dress from Shein (or Aliexpress/Temu) came in, want to see it??“
And then I’m just like. Oh.
Like it ruins the whole mood. We were chilling. Having a nice time. But now it’s like this uncomfortable air because they brought up one of those companies.
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hassianlovebot · 8 months
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i know the rare and epic bugs are supposed to be yknow,, rare and epic so it wouldn't make sense if they spawned all the time. that being said, it's bad enough that the game has time limits on certain bugs, adding super low spawn rates just makes it worse. imo players should never feel like they have to spend hours playing to catch one bug
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vicontheinternet · 2 months
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The rant I could go one about black Houston transplant and black gentrifies in Houston
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slicksquid · 2 years
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aggressively spams the b button
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thedevilsrain · 1 year
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ok kind of a silly rant coming
#about fewl. of course#it rly frustrates me to no end how none of the fans who have the full official translations bothered to scan their manga#i know there are many factors involved as to the why (time; fear of copyright etc etc)#but really what cmx translated is almost the entire run before the series was 'over' (the hiatus i mean)#and their translations are 1. much less offensive than the fansubs 2. overall funnier and 3. in higher quality#bc mind you all of the fansubs are either literal xeroxes or are in very low resolutions#and you can find very little of the official translation online and when you do you hit a dead end#mostly having to do with posters inactive since literally 2010#and now its 2023 and everyone who reads eroica complain about the goddawful quality thats on mangadex#and im like legitmately trying to get my hands on those cmx volumes to scan them because i know theyre good and i WILL scan them#in a higher quality#but theyre all very hard to find and most importantly ridiculously expensive#especially for someone like me who lives in brazil#so yeah im very frustrated the older fans didnt take into consideration that at some point after cmx closed down#those volumes would only become harder and harder to find#and like im trying to buy them and i have to count my cents every time i make a purchase because again theyre so expensive and ebay sellers#arent willing to bargain with you#its very frustrating#this is just a vent but yeah its been bothering me for a while
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dovely-raincandy · 2 years
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blehh i should go to bed bc its almost 1am but….. getting comfortable at night has been so hard recently so ive been staying up rly late. but that has also been making it hard to get up in the morning…… and i have work tomorrow…… i regret asking for a futon i wish i had a mattress
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crashthegates · 10 months
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awoijrgdfbvgsheriljkdfzxcmn vjgklsrek;dfxmcnbkgfdsjizxcjgkfvc nmigdfkjlcvxm,
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snowballseal · 1 month
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Sleepy Affection
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Sylus X Reader
Summary: You're tired. Sylus is the best cuddle partner. Lots of soft love here. That's it.
Word Count: 1061
Note: Self indulgent really, I have a hard time with burnout and sleeping in general, but I know cuddling with this man would solve all of that. Sorry if I overused adjectives.
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Days as a hunter are long. It’s a part of the job, always being alert, always willing to help when the need arises. And you love it. You love being awake before the sun rises, and the exhaustion in your limbs as you walk home. It satisfies the restlessness in your bones.
But still, it’s hard to not hit burnout eventually.
You can feel it weighing down your body as you step out of headquarters. The sun is just rising over Linkon, and you narrow your eyes up at the sky. Of course you worked through the night. It was that or let your paperwork drag into your weekend. Maybe not the best decision. You sigh, rolling your shoulders. Every muscle in your body aches for sleep.
You don’t want to go home, though. It would be too quiet, too empty. If anything, you would probably end up staring at your ceiling, impossibly restless despite how tired you are. And that sounds absolutely awful.
Before you can think too hard about it, your feet are carrying you towards the transit center. To the one place where you feel safe, despite all the reasons you shouldn’t.
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The N109 Zone is strangely quiet in the early morning gloom. The streets are nearly empty, the only sound coming from the electric buzz of the overhead wires and the snuffling of a stray dog on the corner. For a fleeting moment, you wonder if being a criminal makes you allergic to the day. Or maybe they’re all vampires. An amused hum dances past your lips at the thought. Perhaps they’re not after the aether core in your heart, but your blood.
One man seems to be at least.
By the time you reach Sylus’ place, it feels like you're walking through a light fog. Or stepping into a dream. The home greets you with a pleasant warmth that eases the tension in your muscles. Music drifts through the halls, distant and fuzzy with that old quality that vinyl has. Like a siren song, it draws you deeper into the dark comfort of the manor.
Right to your sleeping dragon.
Even while he’s sleeping, Sylus looks…dignified. Ethereal even. The soft light peaking through his curtains casts a glow on his features, dancing across his white lashes, making them almost look like snowflakes. Your eyes trail over the relaxed line of his jaw, the contours of his chest and shoulders. He lies so still, you could almost believe he’s a statue, if not for the gentle rise and fall of his chest. He just looks so…perfect.
It’s hard to believe that this is Onychinus’ feared leader. 
Toeing off your boots, you tread carefully to the edge of the bed. The mattress dips under your weight, the sheets soft and silky under your fingers. Sylus lets out a low sigh at the movement, red eyes flickering open ever so slightly before falling back shut. Without a word, he shifts and lifts the sheets for you to crawl in next to him.
His warmth draws you in, just like his wispy, old music. You can’t resist it, not that you want to. It’s all the invitation you need to tuck yourself as close as possible, like an exhausted little kitten looking for a safe place to sleep. Sylus immediately draws your leg over his hip, long fingers kneading lazily at your thigh. Every part of you presses against his addicting warmth, drawing a content hum from your lips, completely pliant under his touch. He could do anything to you right now and you wouldn’t complain. But there’s an almost reverent feeling to the way he holds you, the way he traces shapes along your skin and presses gingerly into your wound up muscles.
It’s a rare moment of pure gentleness. No teasing quips. No haughty smirk. Just you and Sylus, the air between you thick with something so incredibly tender. You stay like that for what feels like forever, time lost to soft touches and quiet sighs. Neither of you are willing to break whatever spell has fallen over the room. 
Soon enough, though, the weight of your eyelids becomes too difficult to fight. You tuck your face into the curve of his throat, the scent of his cologne washing over your senses. It’s spicy and warm, like worn leather and rum, just so perfectly Sylus.
You wish you could stay like this forever, floating pleasantly on the edge of sleep with him. Just with him. An indescribable fondness curls somewhere deep in your chest.
“I missed you,” you admit into the crook of his neck, your voice thick with sleep and something vulnerable.
“Mmmm, I was wondering why you crawled into my bed in the middle of the morning.” 
He wasn’t, really. You both feel it whenever you can’t see each other for too long. It’s like the worst feeling of homesickness. He won’t admit to it, but you can feel it in the way his arms curl possessively around your waist, like he never wants to let you go. You slide a hand up to his chest, savoring the warmth of his skin, the steady thrum of his heart under your palm. You’ve missed this. Sylus shivers at your teasing touch, those red eyes finally flickering open again to look down at you, half-lidded and unfocused. You hold his gaze, trying to memorize every detail, every fleck of color, the dark gleam of fondness in their depths, matching your own. This is the real Sylus. Gentle and kind, passion burning just below the surface. The one only you get to see. And you love him more than you’ll ever be able to explain.
You curl your arms around his narrow waist, forehead pressing against his chest, “Is it okay that I came?”
You already know the answer. Still, Sylus humors you.
“I would have it no other way,” he rumbles lowly, lips brushing against your hair. “Now rest, sweetheart, I can tell how tired you are. We can talk in the evening.”
You hum, eyes finally falling shut, “Promise?”
“I promise.”
And just like that, you find it impossible to stay awake any longer, lulled by his words and the sound of his breathing. Every nerve, every worry, washes away, leaving you to fall into the darkness you’ve been craving, dreaming of the weekend you can spend together.
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Honestly took so long to write. I wanted to moment to feel soft and more drawn out, don't know if it worked. But I hope y'all liked it :)
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glitterhoof · 1 year
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fighting the war on jaded pokémon fans on the side of jaded pokémon fans
#awn the intercom#you know what i am proud to be if this is now the group i am pushed into . YES IM STILL MAD LEAVE ME ALONE WAAH#MODERN POKEMON ENJOYERS WHEN THE BRILLIANT DIAMOND REMAKES ENTER THE CHAT :#im becoming yomiel. three long years of the same damn animations. three long years of the story repeating and becoming duller#isn’t it funny how a Zelda game can give you the same damn plotline fourteen thousand times and still be unique and somehow. SOMEHOW#POKÉMON JUST . JUST … is this an apple and orange comparison. maybe.#this isn’t about scarlet and violet I’ve never played it I am in the mindset of pre scarlet violet .#Oh also legends arceus makes no sense . Never played it but commercials and pictures alone uhmmmmm#That’s now how …. Ancestors …. And genetics…. Work …..#I’m pretty sure it’s non canon so I’m not worried. BUT IF IT IS CANON IM WALKING MY ASS OVER TO GAMEFREQK HQ AND [ legal joke here ]#maybe im jaded for not liking the stagnant animations . maybe im a little silly for complaining about a pokémon story.#BUT U KNOW WHAT. FOR SIXTY FUCKING DOLLARS I WILL BE !!#WE ARE NOT IMMUNE TO GAME CRITISISCM! WHEN WILL WE STOP SHIELDING FLAWS IN OUR PRECIOUS GAMES AND BRINGING LIGHT TO ITS MISTAKES#THE MORE WE SUCK ON TRIPLE A DEVLOPERS DICK THE MORE THEY PRODUCE MEDIOCRE CONTENT#THE BAR OF EXPECTATIONS FOR POKÉMON FANS ARE SO LOW . IS IT WRONG 2 DEMAND SOMETHING LOOK ALIVE#AUHHHHHHGHGGGHGHGHGG [ explodes ]#and to be clear. this is not to shit on underpaid workers.#BUT IT IS TO SHIT ON MULTI MILLION DOLLAR GAME COMPANIES WHO KNOW THERE WILL BE PEOPLE TO SPEND MONEY ON THEM REGARDLESS OF QUALITY !#REVOLUTIONIZE!!!!!!!!! WE MUST NOT STAY SILENCED!!!!#[ steps off podium ] tag rant over. sorry im really frustrated still actually.
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euthymiya · 3 months
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camera roll — ft. ryomen sukuna
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sukuna doesn’t appreciate how often his annoying little nephew comes over and takes up your time—until you share a few pictures of you and him to little yuuji. maybe the runt’s starting to grow on him
before you read: fem reader ; non curse au/modern au ; established relationship ; uncle sukuna and nephew yuuji ; mentions of itadori jin and kaori ; mentions of reader wearing heels and being carried by sukuna ; sukuna being a terrible influence to children (and being a softie on the low)
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Sukuna doesn’t like children. They’re little troublemakers. They’re nuisances. They take up space and cause chaos. They whine. They cry and kick and scream. They don’t pay bills and eat away at your wallet. They’re clingy and talk a lot. They don’t have jobs and never contribute to the economy. The list goes on.
(You like to point out this mindset is just a byproduct of his upbringing, and that he should heal. He thinks that’s a load of bullshit. He grew up just fine. He doesn’t need to heal from anything—he’s just right. Kids are weird and unsettling).
Yuuji is no exception. The kid is an irritating spawn of his brother—they even have the same smile. Too happy, too nice, too talkative, and too bubbly. So what if Yuuji is his nephew? He doesn’t have to enjoy the runt’s company just because he’s family. (You like to really put emphasis on the family part).
And you’re persistent. You invite the little runt over every chance you get. You always agree to babysitting so his brother can have his date nights and spend quality time with that equally as annoying wife of his. (It’s Jin’s fault for not thinking things through. If he just kept it in his pants, he could easily find time to have dates and spend time with his lousy wife, but no. He decided to knock up the woman and make it Sukuna’s problem too).
It’s an eyesore to say the least to walk into his living room and see a small, useless child curled up in your lap, taking his place where he should be resting his head, and giggling to yourselves.
Irritating. Nauseating. So outright infuriating.
Sukuna hates kids.
“And that’s uncle ‘Kuna and me at the beach,” you grin, “see that castle? He helped me build it. Don’t tell him I told you that, though or he’ll eat me.”
“Woah,” Yuuji gasps, staring in awe at the photo in your phone. Sukuna’s eye twitches. You promised not to tell anyone he helped you build that stupid sand castle. He just wanted you to be quiet when you kept whining for his help. “Uncle ‘Kuna’s got big muscles!”
“Yeah, he does,” you nod, grinning. You swipe through a few more photos before stopping at another one. Yuuji’s eyes bulge even wider. “See? That’s him at the gym. Sometimes I go and watch him. Doesn’t he look so strong?”
“Uh huh,” the kid nods furiously. “He’s so cool,” he adds, voice laced in admiration.
Well, at least the runt has a brain. He definitely didn’t get it from his father, but it’s there. That’s a start.
“And that’s us on our first anniversary. See how sweet your uncle is? He’s carrying me to the car because my feet were hurting.”
Sukuna rolls his eyes. He told you those shoes would hurt your feet, and then your whining would make it his problem. Evidently everyone he surrounds himself with likes to make things his issue to deal with. And he was right—you did end up whining about those damn heels. (They did make your legs look good, he’ll admit that much. But still, you didn’t need to go through the trouble of wearing them only to bugging him with your complaining. He finds your legs hot regardless of what shoes you wear).
“Uncle ‘Kuna’s so nice,” Yuuji nods, giggling before he looks up at you, poking a chubby finger into your cheek and says, “so pretty!”
“Aw Yuuji,” you grin, “aren’t you the sweetest little man?”
You lean in and press an attack of kisses to the brat’s cheeks. Sukuna crosses his arms and glares at the way the runt laughs in glee at your affection. Who does he think he is, feeling your lips on his skin?
Once you settle down, you pull him flush against your chest again, back pressed to you as an arm wraps around his tiny frame, holding him close.
“Look, this is when we went on our first vacation! See how your uncle likes to sleep on my chest? He says he hates cuddling but he’s a liar.”
“Lies are bad!” Yuuji gasps, looking up at you with wide eyes.
“Yeah,” you nod seriously, “super bad. You’ll always tell the truth right Yuuji? Don’t be like your mean uncle, okay?”
“Okay,” he agrees, nodding like he means it.
If it was up to him, Sukuna would grab the kid off your lap and set him out on the streets to find his own way home. How dare the brat sit on his couch with his girlfriend and act holier than him?
And it’s not a lie. Sukuna thinks cuddling is stupid. Using your chest is a pillow isn’t cuddling, it’s getting comfortable. You’re the liar.
“And see this one? That’s us having a picnic. You know your uncle ‘Kuna surprised me with that? He can be really sweet, y’know. He just likes to pretend he’s all tough.”
Yuuji giggles again—and then his eyes land on Sukuna at the entrance of the living room, brightening at the sight of him.
Great. He’s been spotted. Just want Sukuna needed after a long day of work. More annoying people.
“It’s uncle ‘Kuna!” Yuuji points his pudgy little finger at him before waving a tiny hand. “You’re back!”
“And you’re still here,” Sukuna’s eyes narrow, “why?”
“That’s no way to greet your nephew, Sukuna,” you scold, earning an eye roll from your boyfriend.
He trudges over, (carefully) pushing Yuuji to scoot over on your lap so he can lay his head where it rightfully belongs on your legs and settle on the couch. He sighs and closes his eyes as your fingers gently weave through his hair.
“Had a long day at work, I don’t need this brat still taking up my space. Tell ‘im to pay bills if he wants to stay so bad.”
“Oh c’mon, he’s been waiting for you all day,” you grin, “haven’t you Yuuji?”
“Uh huh!” The runt nods, leaning down to hover over Sukuna’s face. He opens an eye, peering up at the kid as Yuuji pokes a finger at his cheek. “Wanna play?”
“No,” he grumbles, pretending to bite at the finger.
Yuuji shrieks, pulling it away quickly and earning a low chuckle from Sukuna while you glare.
“Hey!” You scold, “you be nice to—”
“Again! Again!” Yuuji laughs brightly, holding a finger to hover over Sukuna’s lips. You blink and so does he, staring at the child before Sukuna’s lips curl into a small, smug grin.
“If you say so, ya runt.”
He snaps at the tiny finger Yuuji holds over his lips again, this time getting in a (gentle) nibble that makes the child squeal and laugh brightly.
“Uncle ‘Kuna’s gonna eat me,” he laughs.
“S’right, I’ll eat ya like you’re dinner. So quit comin’ over, you wretched brat.”
Yuuji, as innocent and hopeful as a little child is supposed to be, takes Sukuna’s smirk as a sign his uncle is happy to play. So he crawls off your lap, plopping himself to sit on Sukuna’s chest and smile happily down at him while you coo at the sight.
“Oh my gosh, he’s too cute! Sukuna don’t even think about moving—I’m getting a picture. Jin will love it!”
“Don’t take a fuckin’ pic—”
“Do not curse in front of a child!” You follow your scolding with a smack at his head, making him grunt angrily.
“I swear if you get a damn photo of—”
Click.
The sound of your phone’s camera going off cuts him off, silencing him with a wicked glare he sends up at you from your lap. It’s not so menacing when you take in the fact that his hand has securely planted itself at the base of Yuuji’s back, keeping him from falling over.
Sukuna hates children—he reminds you of this fact constantly. He has a soft spot for his little nephew, though. You don’t point it out so he can keep his facade up for his sense of dignity, but you know the facts.
Yuuji’s favorite snacks are stocked up in the cabinets for his arrival today—and you certainly haven’t had a chance to grocery shop this week. A small, tiny little inkling tells you that your boyfriend is developing something of a soft spot for his nephew.
“Look Yuuji,” you grin at the small child, ruffling his hair as you turn your phone to face him, “it’s you and uncle ‘Kuna! Your very own picture together! Isn’t that nice?”
“Yay!” He claps, eyes crinkling excitedly as he smiles happily at the picture.
Sukuna’s eyes soften just a bit before he’s back to frowning, a grumpy crease of his forehead as he huffs.
“I’m sick of this darn brat.”
————— bonus —————
“Fuck!” Yuuji says as he drops his sippy cup.
Sukuna freezes, eyes quickly darting over to you from the sink where he’s washing the dishes. You stop, stilling where you’re clearing the table. Your hand pauses mid air from its path to pick up glass, head slowly turning to look over at the child.
“Yuuji,” you say slowly, “where did you learn that word?”
He better not—Sukuna stares holes into the kid’s head. The runt better not rat him out or he really will eat him. Maybe even do worse. He’d better keep his annoying little mouth shut before—
“Uncle ‘Kuna!” Yuuji points to Sukuna, as if he wants the man to die.
Your eyes instantly glare over at him. Sukuna tenses, clenching his jaw as he shoots a dirty look at his nephew.
“You damn snitch! They ought to teach you about tattling at that fancy day care of yours—”
“Quit yelling at him for your doing! Just you wait till he’s home,” you glower, “I’ll deal with you later.”
Sukuna scowls, returning to washing the dishes with a sulky frown on his face as you bend down and gather Yuuji into your arms.
“Is that awful man being a bad influence on you?” You coo, “he is, isn’t he? Don’t worry, I’ll teach that terrible uncle of yours a lesson, okay? But don’t use that word, Yuuji. Only non self respecting people use that language.”
Yuuji doesn’t even understand what that means, he wants to say. He holds his tongue, though, just to save himself from even a little of your wrath—but the runt is never welcome back to his home again, Sukuna thinks, grumbling to himself under his breath as you offer Yuuji the last of his ice cream.
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High key I don’t know how to write children so Yuuji’s parts might be cringe but just look away OKAY
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rafeandonlyrafe · 6 months
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twinkle twinkle little star
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words: 700
warnings: 18+ only, smut, dom/sub undertones, fluffy <3, reader is called kid and stupid, clit rubbing
“rafeyyy.” you whine, squirming underneath the thin blanket covering the two of your bodies.
“baby.” rafe grunts out, his voice deep with what he wishes was sleep. “go to bed.”
“i can't! im trying really!” you complain. 
rafe sighs, tugging you closer, back into his grip that you wiggled away from trying to find a comfortable position.
“just close your eyes, kid.” 
you try. you really do. you shut your eyes, pray for your body to relax, but to no avail as you squirm again, causing rafe to sigh.
“alright. hold on.” he moves, sitting himself up against the headboards, arms open as you crawl into his lap, letting him cradle you in his big arms.
“this better you big baby?” he coos, rocking you softly from side to side, letting out a small groan as your bum moves against his lap.
“mhm.” you nod, resting your head against rafes chest. you close your eyes, sleep is so close, but yet when rafe tries to move you back so he can lay down, your eyes blink open.
“fuck, you're still not asleep?” rafe groans.
“im sorry!” you whine. “im trying, really. just can’t.”
“alright, shit.” rafe moves your body for you, laying your head into the crook between his chest and shoulder, arm caging your body close.
his free hand moves to your chest, massaging your tits through your silk nightgown.
you let out a low moan, eyes fluttering closed as rafe switches back and forth between your breasts, rubbing and massaging them gently enough to allow it to be relaxing instead of just turning you on.
“stupid baby, didn't even realize she couldn't sleep just because she was horny.” rafe coos, pressing a kiss to your forehead. your eyelashes flutter open, looking up at rafe.
“it's okay, kiddo.” he says. “im gonna take care of you.”
his hand moves lower to dive between your thighs, smirking to himself when he feels your flimsy underwear. he has a habit of ripping them off whenever he wants access to you, so you've given up on buying high quality material just for it to be destroyed.
“gonna rub your little cunnie for you, mkay?” rafe makes sure you nod.
his finger strokes over your underwear, right through your center. you try not to squirm around, opening your legs up slightly to give rafe more access. he presses a kiss to your head when you spread your thighs, muttering out a quiet affirmation.
“thats my good girl.”
“i-”
“shh.” rafe pets his finger over your clit before dipping lower, feeling how the wet spot has formed on your underwear.
rafe pushes your underwear to the side, unable to restrict himself any longer from feeling your bare skin. he lets out a hum of approval as he moves his fingertip through your slick.
he continues to hum, soft familiar melodies. rafe is no singer, but if he was he'd be cooing you gentle lullabies as he continues to gently rock you, two fingers now gliding through your folds.
“ohhh, thats it.” rafe hums as your eyes close, unable to keep them open any longer. you're sure to be out as soon as his fingers bring you to orgasm.
he moves up to your clit, wanting to get you off quickly so he can get to sleep himself.
“big day tomorrow, bunny.” he presses more kisses to your forehead and hairline. “gonna take you shopping.”
if this was the first you'd heard of the news, you'd certainly be wide awake and excited, but rafe has been promising you a whole day just the two of you for a while now. shopping, dinner, walk on the beach, anything you decide.
“mmm love you.” you whisper as rafe rubs his two fingers over your clit, your thighs squeezing in closer to his hand as your high builds.
“love you too baby. cum for me then we can get some sleep, yeah?” rafe resumes his humming with twinkle twinkle little star.
you let out soft mewls and moans that are the perfect accompaniment to his song, rafe playing you like an instrument with his fingers on your clit.
you don't need to tell him that you're close, you're certain he knows from the rush of wetness, the way your clit pulses as he rubs faster until your entire body stiffens, then your back arches as you let out a moan.
rafe rubs you through your orgasm until you slump in his arms, high replaced by pure exhaustion, falling asleep before rafe even lays you back down.
“mmm, that's my girl.” rafe kisses your head once more as he readjusts you in bed, eyes sliding closed now that you're content and asleep in his arms.
taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @forstarkey @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog @outerbankspov @drewstarkeyswifehoe @cutielando @kamninaries @rafeyslove @rafeinterlude @bellbottombaby @deeaardiary @rubixgsworld @wearemadeofstardust0 @leighbronk @starkeysheart @pradabambie @tobesolovelysstuff @alexiskirkland @rafestar @brioffthegrid @juniebugg @magicalyoura @cokepewpsii @mysticallystilinski @luvdella @aerangi @vogueprincess @yourenogoodforme @auryyz @mayhem-72 @thestarlithideout @marvelfanfics1recs @rafesgiirl @ditzyzombiesblog @chiaraanatra
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arlertwhore · 1 month
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pairing: paige bueckers x fem! reader
warning(s): nsfw/18+, fighting (verbal/physical), toxic relationship stuff, fingering, thigh riding, pussy eating, squirting,
synopsis: the bitchy, possessive, and temperamental gf who paige thinks she can handle proves her right!
word count: 2.4k
Author Note: got my first lil hate comment the other day 😜 i feel like an actual writer now lmao! here goes draft #6, comin’ in lit 🔥
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Fuck knows what you're complaining about this time. She's straight from practice — from a rigorous, exhausting, and intense practice, frustrated with her own performance, only to find you waiting at the door, already irritated about something entirely. Perhaps it was how she didn’t answer you at all today—or how you saw her looking too close for comfort to another 'fan' as she claimed, though you never trusted it—or maybe she even fucking sighed at you the wrong way upon entering through the door because the littlest of things ticked you off—you—her bitchy, demanding, and infuriatingly sexy girlfriend, whom Paige has to constantly remind herself she willingly got involved with, knowing full well she was signing up for the being the figurative property of the brattiest, bossiest, most high-maintenance girl on campus.
"Are you even listening to me?!" you fume as Paige storms past you, stripping a trail of her clothes all the way to the bathroom, letting her hair fall loose from its low bun as she saunters away from your chaos, massaging her temples.
"Seriously, Y/N, now's not the time, I gotta-" - "I don't give a fuck!" you explode, chasing after her and grabbing her arm to spin her back around. "I don't care about your shitty day or your shitty excuses. Why the fuck didn't you text me back, hm?" Paige sighs, avoiding your eyes with an air of exasperation, her gaze shifting to the ceiling in an attempt to not roll them. At her silence, you feel your anger boil over, frustration evident in the clenched fist at your sides and the tense set of your jaw. "You're the fucking worst, Paige!" you snap, "You think just because I'm understanding that means you can take pictures with all these other bitches, post all on your Instagram, but then NOT text me back!"
Paige knew she was the man, the kind of person who could handle any challenge, which is why she thought dating someone like you—a real piece of work—would be a good match. She believed you could keep her on her toes, pushing her to become mentally stronger, more confident, and dominant—qualities she hoped would shine on the court, but on days like this, when you demanded drama and chaos, she wondered if she was truly cut out for it. Her honest, no-bullshitting, no-pretense attitude of: My girlfriend is so sexy opinion? Nah. And she promptly proved that stance when she spat out, “Alright, I’m sorry, baby… Is that what you want me to say? That I’m sorry I have things to do and you act like a bitch about it?” her voice venomous and defensive, stunning you. “Man, get the fuck out of my way right now. I don’t feel like fighting with you, for real,” she demanded, trying to brush past you. You couldn’t believe she actually spoke to you like that—she was usually so considerate of your feelings. In a fit of rage, you squared up to her and pushed her back by her shoulders with a strength you didn’t know you had over the 6ft wall of strength she was. Growling, you commanded, “You’re gonna stand here until WE’RE done talking!”
Paige stands with her hands on her hips, clenching at her sides with such restraint that her basketball shorts ride up, revealing her boxers underneath. She warns, "Stop playin' with me, yo. Step aside." and as she advances again, trying to get to the bathroom door behind you, you block her path, arms crossed and eyes flashing. Sneering, you challenge defiantly, "No. What are you gonna do if I don’t step aside, P? Hm? You gonna hit me?"
She takes a deep breath, drops her head, and shakes it exasperatedly before a light chuckle escapes her, broad shoulders bouncing. “Whatever, ma,” she mutters, turning around and picking up the clothes she’d left scattered on the floor. “I’m gonna go shower at Mikayla’s — forget this.”
You don’t have enough time to be angry about her saying she’s visiting Mikayla’s house—the slut you’d warned her to stay away from. Instead, you sprint to the front door, grab her keys off the rack, and hide them behind your back. Coldly, you say, “You’re mine, Paige. Turn around and get your ass in bed, NOW! You ain’t goin’ nowhere.”
Paige knows you and your past well enough to recognize that you aren’t joking about this possessiveness. However, she’s far from intimidated at the moment. Instead of backing down or appeasing you like she usually does for her princess, she glares at you with a fiery defiance. Her voice is firm as she refutes, “Give me my keys, Y/N.”
You gaze at her, a smirk forming on your face as you watch her façade of nonchalance crumble. Her face turns a subtle red, veins bulging in her hands as she holds them open, waiting for the keys, her lips curled inward and cheeks hollowed. She stands there expectantly, like a statue, until you bristle as she seizes your wrist, slamming it against the door while reaching for the keys with her other hand. Instinctively, you counter with your free hand, pushing her away. She’s lost her calm and collected demeanor. It’s scarier how she doesn’t run but still chases you with the relentlessness of a predator. Her eyes blaze with determination as she follows your running with a steady, purposeful stride. You taunt, “Come and get it, doggy! Yeah, you little bitch!” luring her toward the bathroom, the only room in the house with a lock, and Paige knows exactly what you’re up doing. Just before you can slam the door in her face, Paige lunges for it and forces it open, stepping inside and backing you against the door. This time, she tries a different approach to get the keys—she clasps your waist, holding you in place with her knees pressed against your smaller legs, effectively immobilizing you. As she tussles with you for the keys, you keep a tight grip on them. The struggle is fierce, and you're both panting in each other’s faces, exchanging only ragged breaths. You finally manage to break free from the bathroom and run for the bedroom with Paige hot on your heels. As you glance over your shoulder to see where she’s at, you realize too late that she’s no longer focused on reclaiming her keys. With a swift tackle, she takes you down onto the bed, pinning you there and forcing you into submission. The keys fall out of your hand, but Paige remains on top of you, her anger unrepairable as she growls, “Wanna bitch at me like that when I’m tired?” Her big hands begin to untie your nightrobe. “Wanna piss me off when I’m trying to be nice about things?”
She moves with an almost animalistic quality, yanking you down the bed by your legs and sending your clothes flying off with the force of her pull, baring your body to her hungry blue eyes. She hisses against your neck, “Little bitch?” and you nod rebelliously, “Yeah..fuck,” you heave, “look at you, so pissed, hm?” Her words are unbearably sexy when she vows, “I’ll show you a little bitch.” Mere moments later, she’s seated on the edge of the bed, with you draped over her lap like a ragdoll. You’re writhing, still trying to resist, biting and clawing at her thighs, but Paige’s grip is unyielding. Under her strength, you’re completely powerless.
Her hands spread your ass open, giving her a clear view of your dripping pussy. She chuckles cockily, the smirk evident in her voice even though you're not looking at her when she drawls, “This is why you’re really bitchin’ out, huh, ma?”
You whine at her words, stuttering and squirming, “Let me go, Paige, f-fuck!”
She tuts dismissively. “Aw, but that’s not what you really want, baby... you just need this pussy fucked, don’t you? To get fucked back to your senses—make you my good girl again, my princess...” she purrs, her fingers sliding through your slick and teasing your asshole. Then you hear the dirtiest, most sinful suck of fingers in her mouth you’ve ever heard.
Hips arched high with her strong arm restraining you from running, pressed firmly into your lower back, punching pressure deep within and outside of you, all aligning on the inside, she works her fingers into your soaking wet cunt with precision. She curls and bruises against your walls, relentlessly hitting that spot that makes you squirm like a torture puppet and cry out, "Ah!" for your dear life.
Her smarmy, taunting response? “I know, baby, I know, fuck… too tight for it, I know,” she bellows, feeding off your whimpers and whines with a sadistic delight. That smirk on her face—the one you wish you hadn't turned back to see—tells you she's savoring this victory a little too much and has no intention of letting you go anytime soon, even if you've clearly accepted that you're the little bitch. “Please,” you plead, sinking your nails into her thigh, but it doesn’t seem to perturb her in the slightest—if anything, it only eggs her on, makes her devilishly speed up. “It won’t happen again—I-I won’t act like a bitch anymore, daddy, I’m sorry,” you submit, hoping for some mercy, but she’s unforgiving. She chuckles darkly, yanking you up by your hair so you’re forced to look her in the eye, even if hers aren’t fully focused on yours, watching how your tits bounce as she fucks you senseless. “One more time,” she stares at them, biting her bottom lip with a smirk before she refocuses and demands it sternly. Without hesitation, you repeat it louder before she even finishes her command: “I won’t act like a bitch anymore, daddy, I’m sorry!” She smirks, her grip tightening. "I know you won't. Not after I'm done with you." She releases your head, and you fall forward hard, your back arching under what feels like tons of weight as she drives into you overwhelmingly, making you cry out in shock. "Shit!" you gasp, involuntarily pushing back against her long fingers to soften the blow and the jam, so forcefully that your ass claps with each thrust as she fucks into you.
“Say my name, baby, who’s fucking you,” Paige demands. You groan, clenching around her thick, long fingers and spilling spurts of slick arousal as you pant, “You, Daddy!” Paige tilts her head, unsatisfied. “Nah.” Her hand, once forcing down your back, quickly wraps around your throat, clasping firmly as she whispers, “Tell me, Ma.” With the blonde holding you tightly, despite your attempts to escape, with no leverage, she easily grips you by the throat like a puppet, forcing you back onto her fingers with insane speed and force. She thrusts into you even faster, your clit now grinding against her thigh. You hike a leg up in a desperate attempt to run or crawl away, but she's got you firmly in place.
“Paige! Paige, Paige, Paige, you’re fucking me!” you cry out.
“And you like it, baby? Like how my fingers feel fucking that tight pussy?” she taunts, flexing her leg muscles and increasing the friction.
“Aww shit,” you moan strainedly, feeling the familiar coil in your stomach emerge. Your body still tries to crawl away, but your brain forces you to stay put, losing all the air inside you.
“Stop fucking running, ma, take it,” she commands. “Take it, baby, just cum for me, kay? Cum for me, give me your cum.”
You listen to the sound of your cunt, feel it pulsing and clenching around her fingers before you give up and stop fighting and allow all the pleasure crash over you, your body convulsing as your orgasm hits. You gasp and cry out, surrendering to the intense sensation as your cunt tightens rhythmically around her fingers, your clit throbbing against her thigh. She fucks you through your orgasm, continuing even after that, giving you no recovery time, no chance to catch your breath before she has you on your back, legs still spread and a wet mess beneath you. Leaning in, she murmurs, “Be good for me, be still, kay? Let me clean you up—jus' lemme taste you, baby.”
Your hand comes up to cover your face, crying out as you feel her tongue glide through your folds. Gripping onto her hair tightly, you sob—a genuine cry from the overstimulation. Through your tears, you manage to gasp, “Fuck, baby, it hurts so good, ugh!”
You shout and clamp your legs shut, burying her with a guttural scream once her fingers scissor your folds and hold them open, her tongue flicking exactly against your clit, making direct contact.
She pries your legs open inhumanly, like an uncaring monster, her voice resounding and vibrating in your cunt, "Hold your ankles in the air." a command.
You obey, and she’s even nice enough to help, her strong arms holding your legs apart as she laps and slurps up all your cum like she’s parched, her swallows audible and incredibly sexy.
You look down at her and watch her head shake around wildly, losing herself in the abyss, entranced. You try to push her away by bucking into her face, hands occupied, but you end up unintentionally pushing her closer instead. You whine out desperately, your toes, nipples, and cunt especially on fire. "Pl-PLEASE!" you gasp, "I c-can't, I’m gonna—" Her fingers replace her tongue on your clit, while her tongue dips inside you as she murmurs, "Mhm," You cover your face, and the last thing you hear before you pass out is the frantic noise of her tongue fighting to slip even deeper inside you. There’s the sound of a leak, then the subsequent opening of your eyes after what feels like days. You look down at your girlfriend to find her face glistening in a pool of arousal, juices smeared everywhere. Her first instinct? To lick around her mouth, trying to savor the taste as she smiles at you smugly, knowing she’s clearly gotten her point across to your fucked-out self.
Needless to say, Paige has proven herself to you as she knew she would always: she is NOT someone to be underestimated.
MASTERLIST
AUTHOR NOTE #2: uhh so i reread this and i just wanna know if anybody else reading this who writes, is it crazy i reread my own work and blush at it like a viewer 😅 am i a freak guys 😅😅😅 do you do that too?? ANYWAY GUYS PLS INTERACT WITH ME ILY ALL MWAH!
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jarofstyles · 14 days
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Haze
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Hi bestie babes, here is a best-friends-to-best-friends-with-benefits piece! I am unsure if I'm doing a second part but if I did it'll be later on down the line.
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WC- 8k
warnings- use of marijuana, friends with benefits, biting, daddy kink, soft Dom H hehe
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“H? Do you really think I’m pretty?” Y/N’s voice was slightly slurred, a mix of both tired and high as a kite from the joint they’d finished just a bit ago. The cool air flowed in from the window they’d cracked in order for her landlord not to get a call to complain, but she welcomed the chill. She always got a bit hot in her skin when the high hit her. “Don’t lie to me. Give it to me straight.
She loved smoking, sure, but she hated how it made her mind think about things she had purposely been putting off. Like her awful fucking dating life and how stupidly lonely she was.
Harry sat next to her on the sofa, his legs spread in an obnoxious manspread, his fingers messing with the Rubik’s cube. It wasn’t uncommon for them to smoke together- he was her best friend- but she wanted his opinion. The poor man was going to be subject to her insecurity.
Her string of bad dating experiences lately had made it hard to believe it wasn’t a her problem.
"Pretty? Babe, you're beautiful. Come off it." he mumbled, eyes still on the puzzle game. He was in that fluid mindset, neither here nor there. His reassurance felt nice but at the same time, a little vague. Her face contorted in a frown as she looked over at him. He was still baked, so she got it, but still. A little more would be nice.
“You have to say that. You’re my best friend. Tell me honestly, H. What is.. what is wrong with me? Because I don’t know how someone can go on so many bad dates and it not be a them problem.” It had been plaguing her the whole time and harshing the high. The words needed to come out. “I’m the common denominator.”
Finally, he put the Rubik's cube down and turned to face her fully, his gaze locked on hers. Sure, he was dazed from the weed, but he wanted to be sincere with her once he had heard how she had actually been a bit torn up from it. As hard as she tried, it wasn’t easy for her to hide her emotions from him. Even high Harry could see past the playful quips she had made lately. It had only been a matter of time before she had asked him about it and in his opinion, it was bullshit. There was nothing wrong with her at all. Y/N was amazing, but it was only natural to become a little insecure when someone had the string of bad luck like she had.
"Y/N, there's absolutely nothing wrong with you. I'm being completely honest with you, I swear. It's not you, it's them.” He winced knowing how cheesy it sounded but it couldn’t really be helped at the moment. “You're a fuckin’ amazing, smart, beautiful, funny, talented, kind person... I could list off all your good qualities cause there’s loads of ‘em, but m’high and can't think straight enough right now t’give you the fancier words like… exuberant? Pretty sure that one’s right ."
Y/N let out a little laugh. She could hear it in the low tone of his voice and how it seemed to take him longer than normal to say things when he was stoned and trying his absolute hardest to get that out, but it was a little cute. Too bad it wasn’t enough to get her out of her wallowing.
“Then I’m doomed.” She groaned, sinking into the couch. Her hands came up to cover her face, a tired sound leaving her as she tried to reset. “Dude, do you know how entirely and overwhelmingly exhausting it is? And don’t you dare call me dramatic.” Her eye peeped up at him before she fell back into a huff. “I know you get sex on tap but for the rest of us normal folks, it’s like a war zone out there.”
Harry snickefed at her little quip as he watched her sink into the couch. Letting out a sigh as he really thought about it though, a flicker of understanding crossing his face. "I understand how you feel, trust me. It's not easy for anyone. Although I have to admit, I can't exactly relate to your dating struggles, not really. I just happen to be lucky enough to have a very dedicated fanbase."
He was joking but… not really. He always teased her about this. The women who tended to hang out around the garage or try to get near him after hours to ride him in the cars that he just fixed… It wasn't hard for him to get what he wanted. Being good looking, tattooed, solid and single, it got you a lot of places, and a lot of ass. If only she could relate.
“Yeah, yeah. Slut.” She grumbled lightheartedly, kicking her foot against his thigh. It wasn’t fair it was as toned as it was. “You’re a mechanic and you’ve got all the rich soccer moms throwing themselves at you for a romp in the backseat while their husbands are at work. That’s nice and all, but the dating pool for us commoners is abysmal at best.”
Shooting him a glare, she grabbed the bag of goldfish shaped crackers and popped some into her mouth. “At this point I’d be fine with a friends-with-benefits sorta thing- but god damn it, I just want someone to love me at some point.” There was a moment of silence before she cleared her throat. They didn’t really discuss their sex lives and stuff often so she took his silence as one of not knowing what to say- which was fair. She was sorta dumping this all on him. In the grand scheme of things it wasn’t that insane. Everyone went through shit like this. “Sorry. I don’t mean to actually be dramatic this time.”
Harry shook his head at her remark, giving her a reassuring smile that had his eyes crinkling at the corners. He locked his gaze on her face as he listened to her speak, his expression softening with understanding instead of the smug joking he was giving off before. "Hey, s’alright babe. You're not being dramatic. It's how you feel, and I understand that. Everyone deserves love, and I have no doubt you'll find it."
He paused for a moment, considering his next words carefully. When he spoke again, his voice low and sincere as he knocked his hand against her thigh to get her to look at him.
"Y/N... can I ask you somethin’? And don’t make it weird.” He warned, making her unsure what the hell he could be asking.
Brushing the hair out of her eyes, she turned to look back at him with a questioning look on her face. “Sure. What’s up?”
Harry seemed to hesitate for a moment, unsure whether he should ask or not. It would most definitely change their dynamic if she was offended or freaked out by it, but regardless he felt like it it was something he knew he had to ask. He shifted on the couch, turning to face her fully, taking a deep breath and letting his gaze lock on hers before speaking.
"Y’know how you were saying how you're open to a friends with benefits thing? And how you're tired of being alone?"
“Yeah…. I literally said it like, two second ago.” She replied, voice slow and drawn out. She knew she was foggy, but damn. Of course she didn’t want to draw conclusions but she had to wonder why he would be bringing that up again. Her heart beat a little harder as she narrowed her eyes at him. “Why?”
His gaze remained steady on hers, his expression unreadable. He took a moment before speaking again, his voice low and slightly hoarse. Of course he wanted to be careful with his words, in the off chance this could offend her but he knew that he’d kick himself for not asking if he avoided it. He took a deep breath before asking the question.
"I was wondering... if you'd be interested in having an arrangement like that... with me."
Blinking rapidly, she had to be sure she wasn’t just hearing things. Usually she wasn’t the type to have hallucinations when high, but she didn’t know if he would ever actually suggest that. “Uh.. can you repeat that?”
Harry smiled softly as he saw her surprise. He knew it was a big ask, but he was committed to the idea now.
Leaning forward, his voice was smooth and deliberate as he repeated his question, this time with more confidence considering she hadn’t completely looked disgusted at the idea.
"I was asking if you'd be interested in having a friend's with benefits arrangement with me. No strings attached, just a... way to fulfill certain needs without the commitment. What would you say to something like that?"
“Yeah, that’s what I thought you said.” The nod was casual, as if that hadn’t just completely freaked her out. Not in a bad way! But in a…. What-the-fuck-my-best-friend-just-asked-me to-casually-hook-up-on-the-regular, sort of way.
“Uh… I’m not saying no, but I have to ask why you’d suggest that? I didn’t think you were attracted to me in the slightest.” It had completely come out of left field. The intent behind complaining wasn’t for him to offer but to get genuine advice from him considering he never seemed to struggle in the dating department.
"Who the hell said I wasn't attracted to you? I’ve always thought you were stunning.” It wasn’t supposed to come off defensively but he had to wonder in the moment if maybe it did. Harry had never once thought of her as anything but mind blowingly gorgeous.
“Okay, but you have to say that. You’re my best friend, like I said before. I just….” Hesitance grew on her face, looking over his own for any sign of joking. If he was, her ego really couldn’t handle another blow. “I really don’t want to be a pity fuck. And I also don’t want to like… no offense to you, I don’t want to sleep with someone who isn’t exclusive with me? Not like in the dating sense but like, I’d ask you not to sleep with anyone else for safety and I don’t know how you’d feel about that.” Maybe she was rambling but thoughts were running rampant in her already overcrowded brain. Asking him not to fuck anyone else felt like an overstep for some reason.
As she spoke, Harry nodded along, listening intently. He understood her hesitation and appreciated the honesty; it was one of the things he had always loved about her- But he certainly didn't want her to feel like a “pity-fuck” either. That was the furthest thing she could be. He could respect her wanting a certain degree of exclusivity, especially for safety. He knew he was a bit of a whore and he wasn’t ashamed of it, but he had full ability and sometimes the wish to be monogamous- more than he expressed. Granted, if it were anyone else he’d probably feel a little suffocated in an ask like that but… It didn’t sound so bad when it came to Y/N.
"I get it," he said, nodding in agreement. Reaching out and placing a hand on her knee, his touch warm and gentle, he tried his best to reassure her. "I wouldn't suggest it if I didn't find you attractive, Y/N. It's not about pity, it's about wanting a connection with someone I know and trust. And it’s not like it isn’t a convenience for me, too. No awkward leaving afterward, no like… ‘here I’ll get you a cab’ or saying no to a sleepover. We’ve slept in the same bed loads of times and you know I love a cuddle..”
Sharpening her gaze on him, she tilted her head. “Is this because you wanna do some crazy kinky stuff? Cause I’m open but I dunno how crazy I’ll get.” She was kind of kidding…. But kinda not. There were her own things she wanted to explore, but she didn’t want to be a lab rat.
Harry's eyebrows raised at her question, slightly taken aback. He couldn't help but laugh lightly at her tone, but there was also a hint of genuine interest in his reply.
"You really think I'm into kink, huh? Some sort of freak in the sheets?” Wiggling his brows, he teased her. It wasn’t as if it wasn’t obvious that he was a bit of a frequent fucker, but he didn’t have much shame in that. It wasn’t a kiss and tell sort of situation, but he wasn’t shy about letting her know he’d had a lovely night the day prior when need be. “Well, maybe. But no, that's not the only reason..." He let out a breath, a smirk on his lips. "But I'd loveeee to find out what you'd be open to, if we did this."
“Nope, you first, casanova.” She bounced in her seat, getting closer. Her nosy tendencies took precedence over everything else, it appeared. Getting to know more about him that was was enticing and she couldn’t hold herself back. “What's the crazy stuff you’re into? C’mon, we never talk about this stuff.”
Harry was open about the fact he had a healthy supply of offers and hookups but she had stopped him a few times from giving details. Mostly for her sake, so she didn’t see him as some sort of deviant- even if he was. Now, though, knowing she was potentially someone who could experience said things? Her curiosity was killing the cat. Her cat. Metaphorically speaking.
The man’s lips curled into a small smile as he saw her eager expression. He leaned back on the sofa, his arm stretched out behind her. He was throughly enjoying her nosiness- maybe for the first time- considering it gave him the perfect opportunity to tease her a bit more. "Oh, where do I even start... I have quite a few kinks, darling. But I have a feeling you'd like to hear about a certain one..."
“Okay… so tell me.” She rolled her hand to motion to him to continue. Patience really wasn’t Y/N’s strong suit and it was beginning to show, even if the smoking had initially relaxed her. “Let’s hear it. I want to know what I’d be getting myself into, besides greasy hands and the smell of motor oil.” Though she’d never admit how she’d learned to enjoy it, too.
He couldn’t lie and say he wasn't enjoying how intently she was looking at him, how her gaze was fixed on his every move. He leaned forward just a bit, his voice dropping lower as he continued* "Alright, y’wanted to know, you'll get to know like the princess y’are. But keep in mind, I've got a few of these, not just one." The taunting made her give him that impatient look he was used to, snickering under his breath as she bore her eyes into him.
“Okay. Lay them on me, tell me!” She huffed, knocking his knee. “You’re edging for no reason. I already know that one because you’re gross. Tell me the real stuff.”
Raising a brow at her eagerness, he leaned back again with his arm still draped behind her. He began speaking again, letting his voice drop a bit. "Alright, just a little tiny taste then… See if you can handle it. I've got a thing for power dynamics, darling. Particularly, I like to be in control."
“Mm… I could have guessed that. You’ve got the whole smolder thing, and you do the…” Y/N put her hand behind his neck before pulling it off. “Then you do the neck holding thing when we go out. You like to control where people go. Boss me around. So I had a clue. Give me one I wouldn’t expect.”
The perceptive observations hadn’t been something he expected, but it did amuse him. He reached up to brush a strand of her hair away from her face, his fingers lingering against her skin.
"You know me too well, little dove." He muttered, his eyes sparkling with mischief. This was a conversation he was enjoying. Not one he anticipated tonight, no, but one that had him on the edge of his metaphorical seat. His real seat was leaned against the back of the couch. "Okay then... how about this? I also enjoy a bit of exhibitionism. Kinky enough for you?"
“Oh?” She sat with it for a moment. “Actually… that makes sense too. You’re understated in public but you still get a lot of attention. Behind the scenes you’re an attention whore and stuff, which I know first hand but… yeah.” She huffed. “Damn. Can’t believe I didn’t guess that sorta stuff.” Another question popped into her mind. “Wait… what have you done with that? Are you talking like. Dressing rooms, cars? Or in front of people for real?”
Harry grinned as she continued to analyze his kinks, watching her as she went through it in her head. Had she thought about it before on her own? That wasn’t something he’d mind, in all honest. He chortled at her question and leaned back, his arm wrapped behind her. He didn't want to reveal too much but he was enjoying this back and forth. Maybe a tad bit more than he should be.
"You've got good instincts, darling. Yes, I enjoy exhibitionism. And yeah, both dressing rooms and cars are on the list. But not just that... I like a bit more of an audience sometimes. But that’s a different conversation. I can explain why I like it, though. Since you seem to be so curious.”
“Do tell.” Yes, maybe she was a little nosy but… it was slightly arousing. Harry was interesting to her before but now, with the idea of her being in those scenarios, she felt an elevated desperation to know.
Harry noticed how her eyes darkened with excitement as she listened to him and it made a feeling of satisfaction twist in his gut. Having an effect on her was something he hadn’t realized he’d enjoy so much, but now that he had a taste he wanted to see more of it. He shifted a bit closer, his voice dropping into a low whisper. "I like the thrill of being caught. The danger of it, y’know? I love that it’s risky, that your adrenaline pump and you’ve got t’be quiet. Or you don’t, and you have people see- when it’s appropriate.” That was something he’d experienced a few times. “I’ve had it happen before. Maybe I could arrange that, if that’s something you’d want. People watching, not touching, just watching me touch you... and I’d touch you plenty, darling."
“I think um, I’d like it” It was hard to talk with how her tongue felt tied. “I’ve not done a lot of it but I think I’d be open to seeing and doing more of it.” Her voice weakened, feeling him close to her. His cologne was warm and slightly spiced, his fingertips brushing her arm. Y/N had never experienced the sort of thing he was describing. The most she had done was fuck in a car. “Y-Yeah. I think that’s something we could um… try.” She cleared her throat, trying not to show how affected she actually was. It was hard not to. “What other kinks? Anything I wouldn’t guess?”
Harry saw right through her attempts to seem unbothered and he grinned, his hand continuing to lightly brush against her shoulder. He was enjoying the effect he had on her, the more the minutes passed by. It was a brand new side of her that he hadn’t been privy too prior, but now that he had a chance to? He was going to indulge.
"Glad you're up for trying it, darling. And as for other kinks..." He paused for a moment, his gaze trailing over her body before he spoke again in a deeper voice.
"I'm also into a bit of rope bondage, but that’s for another day too. The typical things you’d expect in kink too, the rougher stuff sometimes, but I really like working you up until you can’t take it anymore. Making you desperate, y’know?"
“Ropes?” She swallowed the shock. “Oh. Hm…” it made sense given the other things but for some reason she hadn’t expected him to be into actual ropes. “I’d have thought maybe more handcuffs but you do like being difficult, don’t you?”
It was a joke but it slightly intimidated her. Nothing she wouldn’t try, though. She trusted him to do that sort of thing with her, if they got to it.
Harry hummed at her surprise and leaned a little closer, his hand coming up to her chin to tilt her face towards him. His eyes locked with hers, his tone serious. It was hard to ignore how beautiful she was now that he was allowed to think that way. It was something he’d tried to limit his brain from indulging in before, but knowing he’d have all the rights to be the one to stare and touch her, he felt like a layer had been peeled back.
"Yeah, darling, I like being difficult. And I like being in control. But we'll take it slow, alright?" He saw the hint of intimidation on her face and the small act of rebellion he liked to see in her. He ran his thumb over her bottom lip, her skin hot and soft under his touch. “Nothin’ you don’t want t’do. I’ll make sure you're comfortable. Even if you’re a miserable little brat sometimes.”
“I…” her train of thought was stalled by the tender touch. Harry was… he was being a lot more liberal with his touches. Sometimes he was when he was high in general but this itself had her feeling hot under her skin. There was that intention now that this was slightly more than what friends do. “I can’t lie and say I’m not slightly intimidated by the thought of us doing stuff together. You’ve done a lot more than me.” She admitted meekly.
Harry simpered as he heard her confession and gently tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. He appreciated her honesty, understanding her intimidation. It would be the same for him in her position, but luckily he was going to use his advantage for good. "I know I've done more than you, but that's not a good nor a bad thing. Everyone is experienced in their own way, darling. And that's the point of us doing this... to explore each other, to learn what the other likes." He ran his hand down her arm, his fingers lightly tracing her skin, sending chills across her body.
His fingers curled around her wrist, lightly pulling her up and leading her to straddle his lap. This wasn’t at all where she had expected this night to go but… she couldn’t complain. With her nerves aside, Harry was by far one of the most attractive people she had ever met. There was no way she could turn away the opportunity to feel the way he touched someone romantically.
“You’re really okay not sleeping with anyone else in order to do stuff with me?”
Harry gazed up at her as she straddled his lap, his hands sliding up her thighs, pulling her closer against him. He looked up at her with a mix of desire and affection, appreciating her concern for his boundaries. "I'm absolutely fine with it," he assured her, his voice a low rumble. "I don't want anyone else." His hand came up, gently cupping her jaw. "I want to make you feel good, Y/N. I want to give you all the pleasure you deserve, and I want to be the only one doing it."
Y/N let out a weak sound as his lips pressed against the corner of her mouth. Having him so close was making her feel lightheaded, placing her hands on his shoulders as he tugged her closer to him, chest to chest.
“What do you want to do tonight?” She mumbled, eyes dropping to his lips back up to his eyes. “We don’t have to do like, everything and stuff but… I dunno.” The weed definitely made her aroused.
Harry chuckled softly, his lips just barely grazing the corner of her mouth, teasing her again. Feeling her body against his, her hands on his shoulders, it sent a wave of heat through his body. He doubted she knew that he’d started getting aroused when she started talking about what he’d be into.
"You're cute when you're bashful, darling. And high." He teased, his lips curving into a smirk as he spoke against her skin. "As for what I want to do... I just want to enjoy this moment. Maybe smoke a bit more, later. But mostly I just want to touch you."
“O-okay. You can touch me however you want.” Giving him that opening was bold, but she also knew she needed to just let him take charge. He said he liked to dom, so he would take care of her. Her eyes fluttered closed as she felt soft presses of his lips over her cheek, down to her jaw.
“You smell really good.”
Harry could feel himself holding back the pleased noise. The little compliment was a welcomed one, but he didn’t get them often from her. It was a new part of their dynamic but he couldn’t find himself upset with it. In fact, he was going to do everything he could to get some more out of her. He glanced at her, enjoying the way her eyes closed in response to his touch. Running his nose down the column of her neck, he took a little inhale of her scent. Sugary Sweet. Just like her.
"So do you, darling." He spoke against her skin.
In a test of how she’d react, he let his hands slid under her shirt, his fingers tracing along her bare skin. There was no stiffening, so he continued slowly moving closer to the hem of her bra. His lips continued their path down, leaving behind a trail of tingling sensations and wet marks on her skin.
The shaky exhale was louder than she had wanted, his hot fingertips burning a trail over her skin. He took the permission to heart, tracing the bottom of her bra as his lips moved down her collarbone.
Her breathing hitched as she felt his teeth sink into the skin lightly, a firm sucking making her fingers grip his shoulders tightly and nails dig into him just a bit. “Oh, shit… why does that feel good?”
Harry giggled against her skin as he felt her nails digging into his shoulders, enjoying the fact he was already getting a reaction out of her. He continued to kiss and bite her skin, occasionally sucking on the sensitive parts, marking his territory and drawing out more sounds from her.
"Cause I know what I'm doing, darling." He murmured against her skin before biting her collarbone again, this time a bit rougher.
“Oh my god.” She keened, head falling back as her hand came up to cup the back of his head. Fingers curled in his hair, feeling his mouth mark her up while his hand went under her bra, cupping her in his palms. “Fuck.”
Y/N felt the pulsing between her slick thighs, her sleep shorts riding up as she shuffled closer and pressed his mouth harder against her skin. It had been a while since she’d gotten laid but it was a little embarrassing how quickly he managed to get her to feel completely insane.
The sounds of her keening and breathing and the feeling of her arching into his touch was making his own need for her grow. His lips continued to work her her skin, marking and kissing and doing all the things he wanted because it felt like heaven to have this on tap. He could only imagine how much better their smoking sessions would be, how much more fun sleepovers would be if he got to love her up like this without a second thought.
“H…” she whimpered. Rocking her hips slightly, she rubbed against his bulge she could feel clearly between her thighs. “You’re h-hard already?”
Harry hummed quietly, feeling a thrill as she rubbed against him. His lips curled into a smirk against her skin before he lifted his head up, looking at her with darkened eyes. "Yeah, 'course I am, darling. You have no idea what you do to me, do you?"
Moving his hands back down to her hips, he gripped them tightly to grind himself against her. Give her a taste of just how hard his cock got for her. There was no reason for her to doubt. “You did this, sweet girl. S’all your fault.”
“Oh, shit.” She groaned, giggling at the end as she felt his mouth fall onto her chest. Wet, sloppy kisses were placed on the tender skin as she felt him guide her back and forth, setting a pace for the friction. “I can’t tell if it’s been a long time or if uh… if you’re just really good at this.”
Both. It was absolutely both.
Harry chuckled against her chest, his breath hot against her skin before his smirk widened.
"Mm, I would like to think it's because I'm really good at this," his hands guided her hips, setting a slow, torturous pace. "But maybe also a bit of both. It's been a while, hasn't it?"
“Uh-huh.” She nodded. “9 months.”
Harry raised an eyebrow at her response and tilted his head to the side.
"Nine months? Damn, babe." He murmured, his hands going under her shirt, his fingers tracing up her sides, making her shiver. Getting the reactions from her felt almost as good as her rubbing over his cock. "That's a long time."
“Just didn’t find anyone good enough to let in my bed.” She retorted, using her grip on his head to guide him back to her chest. “Take my shirt off.”
Harry didn't need to be told twice. He quickly pulled her shirt off, throwing it over his shoulder, before his hands came back up to her body, slowly tracing up her stomach, his fingers brushing over her skin. The thought had been there quite a few times over what she’d look like bare, but this was a brand new vision for him. One he absolutely adored.
"Beautiful." He murmured, his gaze wandering over her chest as he took in the sight of her bare skin, his breathing growing a bit heavier.
Her voice interrupted his inspection of her body. “Bra, too, please. Have to bite the bullet.” Despite her nerves that maybe he wouldn’t like what he saw, she felt comfortable with him. Harry wouldn’t ever make her feel bad. That much she knew for certain.
Plus… she wanted to feel more of his mouth.
Harry chuckled softly and nodded, his gaze locking with hers for a moment as he ran his fingers over the straps of her bra, pulling them down over her shoulders.
"You're so beautiful, darling. Don't ever feel nervous around me," his reassurance grounded her, his voice gentle but firm.
He reached behind her back, quickly unclasping her bra and pulling it off, tossing it away. Taking a moment to appreciate the sight in front of him, his eyes lit with desire. “God. You don’t even understand how phenomenal you are, do you? M’a lucky son of a bitch that you’re letting me touch you at all.”
Y/N continued to rub herself against him, feeling flushed at the praise. It was embarrassing that she had a pretty good idea that her sleep shorts were getting soaked, but she was swollen and wet and the motions itself of him between her legs were getting her embarrassing close.
Feeling his mouth kiss over the naked skin, she let out a moan that she hadn’t expected to. He was delicate but demanding, taking what he wanted.
Harry groaned as he felt her rubbing herself harder against him, his hands gripping her hips tightly to guide her movements. He couldn't resist the need building up inside him, the need to make her moan and whimper and squirm beneath him.
"You sound so pretty, darling," The compliment murmured against her skin, his lips traveling down her chest, stopping every so often to leave wet kisses, claiming every inch of skin he could. Selfish, possessive, needy. He wouldn’t deny any three of those allegations should she so choose to label him.
“It’s gonna feel so good when you’re inside of me.” She whispered, almost in awe. He was thick and long and she could feel every inch under her. It was almost intimidating to feel it and know that was going to be inside of her at some point. “But I… we have to wait for that. Wanna do that when we aren’t all… you know.” High. At least the first time they fucked, she wanted to be sober completely. “I think I could get off just like this, though. I feel so good right now.”
Harry nodded, his lips continuing to leave wet kisses on her skin, his hands roaming up her sides as he continued to grind himself against her.
"Impatient, aren't you, darling?" He teased, nipping at her neck before moving his mouth to her ear, whispering in it. "You'll just have to wait for that, though. But...there's always other ways to get us both off, hm?"
“Which way?” She breathed, eager to hear any and all suggestions he had.
Harry held her gaze, his eyes dark and full of desire as he spoke in a low, husky tone.
"Let me show you."
He gently pushed her back until she was laying down, his hands running down her thighs, pushing them apart slowly. Shifting his position, he hovered over her, his body fitting perfectly between her legs. His weight rested on his forearms as he looked down at her, she felt her world right itself from how it had been tipped over.
Y/N hadn’t expected the shift of direction but she liked it. Feeling him on top of her, she felt… delicate. Protected. Even if his gaze was predatory and hot, she knew he was good hands to be in.
She also hadn’t expected his hands to grab her shorts, pulling them off and tossing them to the side- but as soon as her panties were exposed, he settled back between her thighs. It was less of a barrier between them.
Harry hummed in approval as he got a glimpse of her panties, taking a moment to admire the sight before him. "You're so fucking wet, darling. Made a mess of those useless shorts. Panties aren’t much better." He murmured, his eyes roaming over her body before they went back up to her face. "And I fuckin’ love that you're all mine right now."
Y/N couldn’t take it anymore. Grabbing his face, she pulled it back up to her own and kissed him. Taking matters into her own hands, she felt him reciprocate immediately. And god, could the man fucking kiss.
Harry let out a soft curse at her sudden action but didn't hesitate to kiss her back through it all, his lips moving against hers hungrily. He pressed his body closer against hers, trapping her beneath him as his tongue delved into her mouth, greedily tasting and claiming her like he had been teasing the whole time.
“I wish you could fuck me right now.” She whimpered, feeling him rock against her. His cock perfectly pressed against her cunt and their mouths lapping against one another’s, it was heated and desperate. They couldn’t, not right now, but the idea of it had her slick and throbbing. It was unfair how her body was so primed and ready for him but she had to do the right thing. He’d feel so perfect inside of her and she’d be so full and they both knew it. “I wish you were inside me.”
Harry groaned at her words, the sound almost like a growl as he buried his face against her neck, his breathing getting heavier as he heard her whimper. He rocked his hips against her, his own need growing stronger with every second that passed.
"You have no idea how badly I want that, darling. But we can't...not yet." He whispered against her skin, his hands gripping her hips tightly. “I’m plenty patient, though. I’ll wait for you to want it, and then…” the pause was heavy. “Then I’ll give you every fucking thing you’ve ever wanted out of a fuck. Can promise you that.”
“I know. I know.” There was no doubt that he was fully and utterly capable. She swallowed back her desperation, wrapping her legs around his hips to pull them closer. “You just feel so good against me. I never expected this…” she whispered against his mouth. “But I’m so happy you decided to be horny and suggest it.”
Harry laughed, leaning down to press his lips against her neck again, licking at the skin as he continued to move his hips against hers, his body hot and heavy against hers. He lifted his head up slightly, looking down at her with darkened eyes as he took in how she had started to look a little blissed out. Just how he wanted her.
"I didn't expect it either, darling. But... I'm glad I did." He murmured, his fingers caressing her skin as he settled into a slow, steady rhythm. Rubbing back and forth, rocking his clothed cock into the sticky heat of her ruined panties, he knew her scent would be on them and that just sort of did something to him. Her own mark left on him.
Y/N felt the bubbling pleasure in her tummy. Feeling him rutting against her, the softness of his tongue as it brushed against her own, his hand curled around the back of her neck in such a possessive and firm grip, she felt controlled in the best way. Her eyes rolled back as she felt him grind harder against her.
“Fuck, Daddy. That feels so fucking good, feeling you against my cunt.” She purred, keeping herself glued to him. There was a pause of moment but she could feel him twitch against her, the sharp intake of breath as he tried to catch himself. It had been a shot in the dark, but one that hit the bullseye. “You like when I call you that? Does it make you feel good too?”
The reaction was visible. The man liked it more than she could even seem but that didn’t mean she wasn’t going to play into it to see just how far it went. “Daddy… daddy…. Dadddy.” She taunted, whispering it against his skin. “You’ll make me cum like this. Just keep grinding into me…. Just like this.”
Harry groaned at her response, his lips moving down to her neck, leaving biting kisses in his path. The honorific had him weak, even more worked up than he had thought he could be in this scenario. Little Y/N was getting bolder by the minute and he fucking adored it. It made him wonder what else he could get out of her.
"You're gonna get it, darling. Jus’ be patient and let me make you feel nice, the way you’ve been wantin’ too." he murmured against her skin, his hips continuing to move against hers, keeping a steady pace. His hand cupped her chin, forcing her to look up at him, his eyes dark and intense as he looked down at her. "Daddy's gonna take such good care of you, Y/N. Don’t ever doubt it."
Harry was hot to the touch, her fingers guiding his face back to kiss her as he ground his cock into her. She could feel how it twitched against her, her legs keeping him close so they could stay glued together. “That feels…” she babbled. “S’good. So good, H. I feel so hot and I’m so fucking wet and I wish there wasn’t anything between us but we gotta be good. So good.” She rambled. It was hard to control what left her mouth. She would call it temporary insanity if he brought it up again outside of their arrangement, but the simple movements were making her lose her goddamn head.
Harry's breathing was getting heavier by the minute, his heart pounding against his chest like they wanted to escape his ribcage as he continued to rock his hips against hers. He felt hot and needy, every fiber of his being screaming to be closer to her, but he held himself back, knowing that they had to at least try to be good. He’d get to sink his cock into that hot cunt another day, make her cum around it and squeeze and milk every drop from his balls into her. That was something he was going to look forward to. But for right now they were testing the waters, and he liked it way more than he thought he would.
"Y’feel so good, darling. So, so fuckin’ good, can barely stand it." He murmured against her lips, letting the praise flow easily off his tongue. It’s what the woman deserved. All these shitty hookups and no one knew how to get to those little itches she couldn’t scratch- but he could read her so easily. Harry knew what she needed. "You're doing so well for me, being so good. Daddy's proud of you."
The last sentence made her whine out loud. Pleasure flowed through her at his praise, wanting more of it. All of it. It had been so long since she had been touched by someone else, and while the last person she had expected to do it was her best friend, she had also never felt this level of desperation.
Harry could feel her body responding to his words, her whimpers and whines making his own desire for her grow even more. He loved knowing that his praise was making her feel good, that she needed to hear his words. He continued to murmur sweet, filthy things in her ear as his body moved against hers, his need for her growing more and more intense with every second.
"That’s my girl, sweetheart. You're doing so well for me, letting me take care of you like this."
He knew it had been a long time for her, felt it in how she kissed. Selfishly he would be glad to be the one she got to take care of her. No one else really deserved it. Maybe he didn’t either, but he cared for her genuinely. He liked her and he wanted the best for her- so that’s what he was going to do.
“M’gonna cum, daddy.” She whispered. “I feel it. You’re getting my clit so perfect each time you move… god, s’so embarrassing to cum dry humping but I forgot how good it feels.” Or maybe it just hadn’t ever felt this good with anyone else. It had been a while, sure, but she hadn’t actually had dry sex with someone since she was sneaking around with her boyfriends back home. Something about it made her know that it had to be a Harry thing, though. That he’s the reason it felt this fucking good and why she was desperate for it.
Harry could feel her words shooting straight to his core, his body growing hotter in response. He could tell that she was close before she had even said so, by the way her body trembled against him, by the way her words got breathier and more desperate. Hearing her say so only made him more eager to get there.
"That's it, sweetheart. Let daddy make you feel good, darling." Harry murmured in her ear, his hands gripping her tighter, his body moving against hers more frantically now as he chased his own release alongside hers. She was going to cum, she was going to cum because of him and fuck if that wasn’t the sweetest reward he could think of- he wasn’t sure what was. "You're doing so perfect for me. Just let go for me. You can do it. I've got you, sweet girl."
Y/N felt it approach quicker than she had wanted. It was no wonder, though. Harry was giving her everything she didn’t know she needed in the simplest way, and he wasn’t even inside of her yet. She felt safe and appreciated as his fingers held her and his lips cooed encouragement to her, the rhythmic back and forth of his cock rutting against her poor, soaked panties, the heat boiling over.
“I’m gonna- m’cumming, m’cumming, I’m cumming Daddy- Harry.” She babbled as her eyes welled up with pleasured tears, nails digging into his skin as she came.
Harry's breathing hitched as he felt her grip on him, her hands digging into his skin and her body trembling against his as she came. “There you go baby, there you fuckin’ go. Yes.” He gasped, feeling himself tip over the edge. His name leaving her lips in a strangled whimper had been the final straw, his own release hitting him like a wave, his body shuddering against hers as he followed her over the edge. Shooting right into his briefs, he felt the hot and sticky load and momentarily mourned the loss of it not being inside of her, but it was quickly passed over as the orgasm washed over him.
"God, darling," the man groaned, his voice low and rough as he buried his face against her neck. Mouthing over the skin as he tried to gather his bearings, he mumbled sweetness into her. "You did so well for me, sweetheart. You're so perfect. So good for me. Sweetest fuckin’ peach."
The loud groan that followed her own had caught her off guard, the sharp thrusts of his hips making her cry out in overstimulation but she did little to stop it, keeping her legs around his hips. “What the fuck was that?” She laughed, head falling back on the sofa with her eyes blurry and wet. It was hard to think.
Harry couldn’t say anything, his own brain fuzzy and his body in overload after that climax. He was breathing heavily, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath, his forehead resting on her shoulder. His curls brushed her skin, scalp slightly damp as her fingers settled in the mess of hair and brushed through it without a second thought.
"Bloody fuckin’ hell, babe." Harry finally managed to say, his voice a bit shaky. "That was… incredible." He lifted his head up, looking down at her disheveled and flushed form, his eyes roaming over her.
It was just dry sex, but it had been better than some of the full on stuff he’d had. Maybe it was just their connection, their vibe, maybe even being high, but he knew it felt impeccable. This was something he wanted to revisit- and he would, especially when he was all alone with his hand on his cock.
“If it feels good like that, what the hell are we gonna do when we do the real thing?” Y/N blinked up at him, the flush of her orgasm glowing on her skin. She felt her body shivering slightly, her poor panties a complete mess she’d need to change into, but there was no regret so far. It took her by surprise considering she had been anticipating a bit of awkwardness between the both of them but there was no hint of it as they recovered, a light kiss pressed over her cheek as his hazy eyes looked down at her.
Harry let out a half-laugh, his body still feeling heavy and spent after that intense release- one that had been a welcomed surprise. There had been no prior indication that would be happening tonight but for as insane as it was that it happened, he was more than happy that it did. Getting to experience this side of Y/N had been something he liked far more than he could have ever anticipated.
Leaning down, his forearms rested on either side of her head as his eyes locked with hers while he spoke. "I have a feeling that the real thing will be earth-shattering." He said, his voice low and slightly hoarse. "The wait might kill me, though."
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jamilynfx · 18 days
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Stuck Again
Summary: You're stuck between your boyfriends in what seems to be the hottest night of the year.
Pairings: Logan Howlett x Wade Wilson x Fem!Reader
Word Count: 1.4K
Inspired by this post made by @dorkszn 💖
Warnings: implied sexual content, mentions of stabbing and biting, FLUFF ALL OVER
Part 2
It’s hot.
You don’t mean the usual, July kind of hot in New York when everything seems to melt like a neglected ice-cream cone. You also don’t mean yourself or your companions, even though they have a lot of hot qualities going on.
It’s the place that you’ve found yourself in, or, more accurately, a nest that one of your boyfriends insists on creating each night, no matter the high temperatures outside. With the AC unit barely working and a half-damaged fan, which was almost destroyed on purpose by Logan during one of his daily fights with Wade, tonight’s heat is unbearable.
And it’s not that you don’t like being warm. You’re more of a summer girl, enjoying extreme heat and the sun kissing your skin, your wardrobe full of dresses and skirts to catch a light breeze when outside, always the first one on a lounge chair to sunbathe and bask in the heavenly white heat of long, summer days. Your worst nightmare is deep winter, with agonizingly cold temperatures and activities like ice-skating or building a snowman, hands half-frozen and teeth clattering uncontrollably.
But tonight?
Tonight everything is too much, even for you. The heat is overwhelming and unpleasant, surrounding you from every possible angle.
The fan sounds as if it’s its last night on earth, definitely working overtime and below its paygrade. You can’t see Mary but her light snores fill the room accompanying Logan’s casual growling, deep and insistent in your ear. Wade is silent for once, his breath steadily brushing the skin of your upper arm and neck, the constant sleep talking temporarily simmered down.
It’s your usual sleep arrangement, Logan comfortably situated behind you, your naked back flush with his bare chest, his arms hooped around your belly and mid-section like a vine, his large hands on your waist, leaving you literally no space to move or escape without waking him up. Wade is glued to the front of your body, your legs tangled together like roots of a crazy tree, your head resting on his shoulder with your face hidden in the crook of his neck, and Wade’s other arm slung over you and Logan, to have you both within an arm’s reach.
Logan isn’t a fan of Wade stealing you all for himself, especially if he does it in that obnoxious, you won’t do shit about it, peanut way, which causes low, unamused grumbling on better days and scratching or outright stabbing Wade on not so good ones. It’s more of expressing difficult feelings through violence than real hatred but Logan wouldn’t be caught dead saying out loud that he secretly enjoys when Wade hugs you both the way he’s doing it now.
Sure, there are nights where Wade is the one to squish you from behind like a sponge but, most of the time, he prefers to be in front, chest to chest or tits to tits,if you were to quote the man himself, leaving your behind to Logan’s exclusive use. Too bad Wade ain’t ever really tits to tits, it’s more of his head resting on your shoulder or right between your cleavage, which dangerously overlaps with him drooling all over your breasts every other time. It isn’t that unpleasant but you fake-complain in the mornings when it happens, just to see Wade be slightly embarrassed for once. Your legs always end up entangled, little Mary resting somewhere in between the three of you.
And while having two private heaters is heavenly during the cold, winter months of the year, now it seems to be a not-so-funny joke. Both Wade and Logan love to sleep naked or with just one item of clothing on them, Wade sometimes choosing to sleep only in Logan’s t-shirt. Yes, it doesn’t cover anything, and on days like this you’re grateful that Al is actually blind. Sleeping naked isn’t a downside per se, but now it makes you feel oven-hot, the heat that radiates from everyone suddenly too overwhelming to enjoy it.  
To make matters worse, you’re sticky. Sticky with multiple layers of sweat, droplets of it actively trickling down your side and back, your hair plastered all over your neck and forehead making you even hotter, especially with Logan’s beard buried in the crook of your neck. The place where Wade’s arm rests on yours is soaking wet, little beads of sweat running down to drip, drip, drip right onto your hip and sheets. On the top of it all, you’re sticky like that, too, a mixture of bodily fluids splashed all over your thighs, lower belly, and chest, a rather messy testament to your before-bedtime activities, which made you delirious with pleasure and forced you to fall asleep right after Logan’s hushed ‘night, princess.
You’re stuck.
You try to focus on falling back to sleep but it doesn’t work. There’s no way you’re not going to wake up Logan if you start moving but you can’t stay like that, feeling like a lobster being thrown into boiling water. The final straw is Mary, who changes her position mid-sleep and covers your feet with her little body, making your temperature skyrocket.
You grunt, wiggling carefully to free yourself of Logan’s arms. Wade is still asleep when he slightly turns away from you both, leaving you a bit shocked that he dressed into his Hello Kitty boxers for once.
You’re in the middle of sliding down Logan’s chest, his arms level with your tits, when Logan’s hoarse voice makes you stop all your abrupt movements.
“What is it that you’re doing, bub?”
Fuck.
“It’s too hot in here. I need out,” you whisper quickly, your hands coming to rest on his huge arms. You’d think he’d let you go but it’s not that easy. Logan slightly loosens his grip on you, only to slide you back up and hide his face in your sweaty hair. You manage to twist your body towards his face. “I’m serious, Lo. I need a cold shower, right now.”
The urgency in your tone gets his attention. He lets you go with an unhappy growl that makes Mary perk up.  
“Want me to go wit’ ya?”
You kiss him on the lips, just a little peck but that seems to do the trick.
“No, I’ll be quick. Sorry about waking you up.”
His only answer is another low growl but the crease between Logan’s brows straightens, then completely disappears, right when you’re kissing Wade’s sweaty forehead.
Your visit to the bathroom is quick but Mary follows you anyway. She sits right in front of the shower curtain, yawning a total of six times before you finish showering. The water is cold on your skin, a bit of a shock after being surrounded with extreme warmth, all stickiness and hotness going down the drain in a matter of minutes. Dry and ready to go, you pick the dog up with one hand, placing her under your left arm.
“Look at you, standing guard and all,” you whisper words of praise as you go back into your small, stuffy room, Mary wagging her tail happily.
Ten minutes are enough for Wade to force himself into Logan’s personal space, now that you’re not their buffer. His hello kitty cladded hips are perfectly aligned with Logan’s naked ones, his hand fondling Logan’s tits, his face halfway in Logan’s hair.
“Come quick, baby girl, and save me,” squeaks Wade when you put Mary down on the edge of the bed. That’s when you see it, Logan’s teeth buried in Wade’s arm, the same one which Wade used to feel Logan up. It’s nothing serious if there’s no blood, so you lie down in between them, forcing Logan to let go of Wade’s flesh.
“Gods’sake, behave, both of you.”
You put your head on Wade’s chest, finding your way back into a comfortable position, Logan’s hands immediately on your hips. Wade makes a big stretch, “accidentally” extending his arm to embrace you both.
“Thought he’d bite it off but I’m safe when you’re here.”
Logan buries his nose in your neck, growling lowly behind your ear, probably something about slicing Wade’s arm off, but it’s too incoherent to know for sure. He doesn’t move away from Wade’s embrace, though, which is enough for you to smile happily, watching as Mary finds her spot in between Logan’s feet.
Stuck again.
Exactly the way it should be.
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More random Nimona headcanons
Bal is one of those people who isn’t allergic to anything except one random medication that no one uses 
Ambrosius calls him a lucky bastard every time it’s brought up because he’s allergic to everything 
His allergy list is at least three pages long and he doesn’t remember a single thing on that list 
Whenever they go out to eat Bal has to remind him “No you can’t eat that it has olives” “Not that either love it’s got lemon” and so on 
Most of his allergic reactions are pretty tame so he’ll eat it anyway
And it gives Bal and Nimona so much fucking anxiety 
One time Bal walked in on Nimona chasing Ambrosius around the kitchen yelling “Spit out the carrots Nemesis you don’t even like them that much!!” 
Whenever he eats alone he refers to it as a game of Russian roulette 
Bal refers to it as the reason he has high blood pressure
Because Bal and Ambrosius grew up in the limelight (for very different reasons) there are a million pictures of them through the years 
And they use those videos to bully the hell out of each other 
Bal can quote the video from the beginning of the movie not because it was an important moment in his childhood 
But because Ambrosius will quote it at the most random times throughout the day
Bal will do something small like kill a bug or chase out an animal that Nimona brought in
And he’ll hear Ambrosius mumble “I’m here to slay monsters and protect our kingdom”
He was a little worried Nimona would react badly to this habit but he started joining in 
One time he killed a spider and Ambrosius asks “Are you slaying monsters moonbeam?” Nimona yells from the other room “I’m so proud of him he’s truly protecting our kingdom” 
There are a million photos of baby Ambrosius on the internet 
And Bal made a PowerPoint presentation ranking their cuteness factor out of 10 (100 was the lowest score he got and it was a picture of him with the ugliest bowl cut you’ve ever seen)
And made Ambrosius sit through it 
That was the most loved and mortified he had felt in a long time
Nimona uses low-quality pictures of them as reaction photos 
There have been times when Nimona asks “Can we eat out tonight” and Bal tells her no and she sends him this 
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He’ll text back “Is that my fucking wanted poster?!” 
She asked Ambrosius if there was any ice cream left and he said no he expected her to call him and complain he didn’t expect this 
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He calls her yelling “When the fuck did that happen?!” 
And she hangs up immediately to let Bal deal with it
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familyabolisher · 1 year
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I do think being a waitress has done one great thing with respect to writing: it has made me understand deeply and fundamentally how many writers are full of shit. It has altered my view of privilege and money and the ways that people complain that mask the fact that in their world, they would never have to do a job that equates to basic manual labor, because their intelligence is worth more than waiting on others. (Side note: Sweetbitter was an overrated waitressing book, Love Me Back is underrated.)
Maybe by accident, maybe on purpose, I fell in to a social group in New York City with many people who consider themselves to be intellectuals. I’ve been privy to countless conversations about how intellectual labor is labor, about how someone needs to do the sitting around and thinking and theorizing, with the thought underlying this being: and it certainly wouldn’t be the people who carry things for a living.
Why don’t websites hire service people to write about food? How do ‘restaurant journalists’ exist, when servers who are also artists are standing right here? A book critic once told me, “a website could never be staffed by service people, the quality of the writing would be too low,” and I wanted to laugh. I suspect it’s easier to teach a waitress to be a writer than an intellectual to be a waiter.
Becca Schuh, Bad Waitress
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