MATT DILLONas Rusty James In Rumble Fish(1983) Dir. Francis Ford Coppola

MATT DILLON as Rusty James in Rumble Fish (1983) dir. Francis Ford Coppola

i wish men were real

Christian Bale as Theodore "Laurie" Laurence in

Little Women (1994) dir Gillian Armstrong

And every night I just sleep, imagining you beside me and your arms around me.

Nyquil [18+]

You have trouble sleeping without your boyfriend’s help.

Warning! NSFW content in an established relationship. Reader likes to get eaten out as she goes to sleep - consensual somnophilia adjacent behavior occurs. Hobie Brown/F!Reader.

••●────── 🕸️⋅🕷⋅🕸️ ────────●••

“Can’t sleep huh, doll?”

He’s such a sweet boyfriend, sweet enough you thank your lucky stars every night that you found a boy like him to accompany you through life. Insomnia had been a long prevailing problem in your night routine, evident in your behavior at HQ where you were noted for being the Spiderwoman who often looked groggy and shuffled about. Your “nonchalant” nature initially enticed him - you really stuck it to the man by making it clear you didn’t care.

It took two months for him to realize you weren’t nonchalant. You were tired.

He’d made it a point to be the best help he could about it: it’s why he was over almost every night he could be now. Hobie does a great job to soothe you. The rough pads of his fingers tracing circles on your bare back. His lips pressing soft kisses to your head, your face buried in the pillow breathing the linen smell in with even breaths. “Hnng…” you mumbled in the pillow, feeling your consciousness slowly tettering but never falling to rest. It was exhausting, the endless sleepless nights before Hobie.

Only he could put you to sleep.

“Almost there? Does my doll need me to put her to bed?” he breathes, hot breath fanning your hairline. Aahh, that offer fans the heat in your core and the excitement of being close to him and being lulled to sleep keep your eyes twitching behind your closed lids - you might as well simulate REM sleep if you couldn’t get there.

“Yeah…” you huff, words soft as air and fanning over the fabric of your pillow’s cotton casing. His hot hand dipping lower under the thin jersey sheet to the small of your back.

His voice hot and raspy, a whisper on the shell of your ear, “Yeah?”

Nodding into the pillow, hands taut under it and your head, his body next to you and curving onto your body like a crescent moon with the way he was propped on one arm and the other starting to palm the fat of your ass.

“Wanna stay like that or you wanna turn a little so I can lap you up ‘fore I put you to bed, dolly?” You mumble something before rolling onto your back, tits coming to meet the air from the movement of the jersey blanket and spreading your legs in a lazy movement that gets him chuckling. He’s too giving, too concerned with getting you to sleep all cozy.

“Thank you,” he laughs lowly, pressing a kiss on your temple before wandering lower under the sheet, “I’ll put you to sleep, don’t you worry…”

He always presses soft pecks to your thighs first, hands around your thighs with his thumb grazing the skin.

He kisses the mound next, pecking the lips with sickeningly sweet gentleness; like pecking your cheek. He does it so gently, careful to not make you cum because it keeps you up longer, and instead sufficing with making out with the area. Suckling at the nub, lazily licking at it with slow big licks with a flat tongue.

You buck a little, sighing, your breaths slow as he hears your heartbeat settle. Both heartbeats. Your hips buck once more, before settling on the sheets - a small snore fills the air. The rumble of cars coming and going in the late night, some honks and some reving engines. Your fan in the corner purring as it washed your naked bodies in cool air. Window only slightly ajar. The dark room illuminated only by the lights of the billboards and advertisements in your universe’s big city.

Hobie comes up, ignoring the ache in his cock to settle on staring. No bodily function or lust could surpass the warmth in his mind. Even if the nonchalance was mistaken at first, the way your face glows a little brighter at HQ when your well-rested is more rewarding. Especially knowing how well you sleep because of him.

Your eyes twitch behind your lids and he can’t help but grin, hoping you’re dreaming of him. The cars rumble twenty stories below.

Hobie knows you’ll never need melatonin, chamomile tea, or nyquil ever again - not so long as he can soothe you.

🕸️𓆩♡𓆪🕸️

thanks for reading! smthng short n sweet - its only smutty for a second but idk I j thought it was a lil silly dynamic/habit for them to have :) feel free to request or chat abt hobie and miguel in my inbox <33

i love him dearly

underrated todd anderson moment

can’t fucking sleep without you - elliot

Pairing: elliot x reader

Summary: when elliot can’t sleep, you come up with a new idea to make him relax

Warnings: smutt, handjob, mutual pining, cute elliot

Words: 1,2k

A/N: idk just wanna sleep next to him

——🕊

It’s a Sunday night, end of spring break. You are at Elliot’s as usual, both of you bitching about how awful school is gonna be once you get back.

His hand rakes through the bleached curls on his head, looking intently at your features while you babble about some drama he doesn’t really care about. Despite that, he nods continuously and raises his brows in surprise whenever you tell him something new. Your voice is soothing to him, that plus the weed helps calm down his racing thoughts.

The rain is pouring down, tapping softly against the windows in his room, the sky painted a dull gray with a splash of moonlight shining through.

You eventually stop talking, checking your phone to see the time. “Shit, it’s getting late, gotta catch some sleep before school,” you say, ending it with a tired sigh.

“You could just stay over,” he suggests casually, a plectrum balanced between his teeth afterwards.

“I need my stuff to get ready and shit,” you snicker, thinking he was mostly joking.

“Yeah forget it,” he mutters, tilting his head while simultaneously averting your eyes. Is he disappointed?

You and Elli have been having sleepovers through most of the break. It always ends in a heated make-out session, but you always retreat when it turns into more. You aren’t the most experienced, and the thought of doing something wrong or embarrassing yourself in front of Elliot is enough to make you back out, despite how much you want it. Want him.

“I just mean like clothes n’ makeup you know.” You shrug, automatically defending yourself because of his tone.

“You can borrow my clothes. You don’t need that makeup shit,” he says, eyes still averting and shoulders slack like he’s purposefully trying to look like he doesn’t really care.

It makes you bite the inside of your cheek. He wants you to stay. “Okay. Cool.” You reply, a soft smile playing on your lips.

“Cool.”

He’s smiling up at the ceiling.

——🕊

You are laying next to him on the bed, wrapped in three different coloured blankets and one of his t-shirts. Hugging it close to yourself, you lett his scent invade your mind. It’s dead silent except for Elliot’s tossing and turning. You had said goodnight around 15 minutes ago but he hasn’t stayed still for more than a second. The bud is wearing off, and you aren’t really there to distract him anymore. It’s just him, his thoughts and the dim table light in his room. The wind is howling outside, making the corners and crevices of the house creak. Every sound is amplified, he felt constricted in his skin and he wants to touch yours. The rain is infinitely crescendoing into nothing; he feels like he’s going mad.

You turn around, looking through hooded, tired eyes at the boy before you. Legs are kicking around to adjust the blanket, arm under his head for support. His jaw clenches and unclenches in a rythm, and you figure he’s playing a song in his head.

Maybe this is the moment. Your opportunity to do what you’ve wanted, without doing it wrong. He could use a little wind down to sleep, you think.

Subtly, your body moves closer to his and slender fingers touch his bare stomach, feeling the muscles convulse under your unexpected touch. His head snap to yours, distracted brown eyes looking right at you. Without moving your gaze from his, you slide a hand downwards, feeling the ridges of his muscles and the dust of dark hair that leads underneath his sweatpants.

“What are you doing?” He whispers, craning his neck to look down at where your hand is toying with the hem of his pants. His tongue darts out to lick his lips quickly, pupils blown at your actions.

“Wanna help you sleep,” you say gently, as to not break whatever spell of confidence that has washed over you. He breathes out heavily in a near gasp as your hand slips under his sweatpants. You wait a minute there, hovering over him. In response, his hips buck up into you, trying to feel your grip around him.

Smiling softly at that, it silently confirms that he wants you, and so you grasp his dick carefully. He lets out a breath through his nose, throwing his head back into the pillow. Squeezing him slightly, you feel him hot and heavy in your hand. Never have you touched like this, but the scenario plays like a movie in your head everytime you try to sleep. Pulling him out of his confines, you quickly retract to spit into your hand. You stroke him experimentally, feeling the veins and ridges in your palm.

His moan is low and vulnerable, eyes closed in concentration. “Need this. N-need you” he mutters, feeling the pleasure spike through him as your nimble hand wraps around his dick. He needs nothing more and nothing less than this.

Your lips find his chest, gently pecking the skin there and nibbling on it while you swipe your thumb over his head, dragging the pre-cum with you to make it wetter. He bucks his hips again at the feeling, and you hear the sheets crinkle as he grabs them tightly in his fists.

“Is this good?” You ask almost nervously, continuing to move your hand up and down, twisting your palm around the tip.

“Uhuh” is all he can say, too focused on finally feeling you on him, the friction of your wet hand around his dick.

“Can’t fucking sleep without you” he says, voice cracking into a moan when you squeeze him harder. He doesn’t know it’s involuntary though, but his words sends a shiver down your spine, a heat consuming your skin.

“M’ right here” you say to comfort him, lips a whisper over his collarbone before you lick along it, your hand speeding up. He curses, running a hand over his face before reaching back to grip the pillow behind his head tightly. Sensing that he’s close, you sit up to use both your hands, working him faster and faster.

His stomach tenses, body arching into you as he lets out a ragged, exhausted moan, releasing over your hand. His hot, sticky cum coats your skin, as you keep stroking him through it.

You take your hand up to your lips, tongue darting out to taste what’s running over your fingers. With wide eyes, he observes you tasting him, his chest sinking and rising heavily at the sight. ‘Fuck’ he sighs. Sighs at the way you always manage to amaze him in some way. You fumble for a tissue to wipe your hand and his skin.

He stays silent as you crawl up next to him, pulling the blankets with you to cover both your bodies. He stretches out his hand for you to lay on, and you gratefully accept the offer to cuddle into him. He’s burning hot, still calming down from his orgasm. Your head rests on his chest.

“Always wanted to do that” you admit, biting your lip. When he doesn’t reply, a cold feeling settles in your gut. Was that too much?

But when you look at him, you chuckle.

His eyes are closed, only the two x’s on his eyelids showing, his plumb lips are softly parted and his breathing is slow.

“Goodnight, pretty boy.”