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42-forty-two-42 · 18 days

Note

tosses the hoon man plushie at 42

WOE, PLAGUE BE UPON YE 🔥 🔥🔥

the skrunkly

4̘̉2͉͙̮͘.̞̿.̝̐.̙̘̬̈́4̘͔͂2̥͇͓̄͒͗ ̲̓̊͊4̟͆̌2̈́͒͌ͅ ̘͒͛̚4͍̈́͗2̧̍̋ ̮̽́̌4̡̅2͚̺͒ ̱͈̆͒̅4̬̹̾̄2͔̹͛͜ ̼̆͜4̛̠͇̱2̛̠͎ ̢̏̊͠4͔̯͔̈́̾̇2̗̀?̩̩͎͋

( Well...what do I do with it now? )

#that's not my neighbor #thats not my neighbor #thatsnotmyneighbor #42 #fortytwo #tnmn #tnmn rp #okay I'm too sleepy to draw #but not sleepy enough to write yet #nvm I'm too sleepy for all #gn every1

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frmisnow · 5 months

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˙✧˖ ?! — KEEPING YOU IN BED (CAUSE I'M DOWN BED). - MDNI !!!

— ‧₊˚ — 🍵 : "wonder where your colleges think you are, they'd never guess i'm balls deep into you huh"??"

summary. going to work on your boyfriends single day-off already sounds like a death sentence, things only become worse when he makes it especially hard to leave the bed.

notes. SLEEPY HORNY KOOK AASHHSSHSH my roman empire... 😭 SORRY FOR THE TITLE I HAD A LIL GIGGLE OKAY ???

warnings/includes: (NSFW) dom! jungkook x f! sub! reader, starts sleepy + wholesome, turns a lil unhinged..., pounding, overstimulation, he's just a bit mean in second half (but we love it)

you rub your eyes, the morning sunlight blinding you through the sheer curtains - soft and rhythmic breathing audible beside you when you look over you find your boyfriend's chest rising and falling slowly, one of his arms still wrapped around your waist, in pure peace still somewhere in the deep roams of sleep.

after all it was his day off, a rare sanctuary in the hectic schedule of hislife, and yet, there you were, inching away from the warmth of his embrace, preparing to face the day ahead.

but as you attempted to free yourself from the tangle of sheets and limbs, a sleepy murmur escaped him, a half-formed quiet plea, "just few more minutes" His arm instinctively tightened around your waist, drawing you back into his tight hug, nuzzling his face to your middle body. quick little peeks placed all over tummy, almost like rubbing his face over you, his hands lazily tracing circles over your sides, "just a little longer"

he shifts his position, now completly lying over you, trapping and preventing you from leaving, wrapping his arms around your neck, "love you so much" whispered into your nape.

you giggled in response, your hands hugging his back, travelling under his shirt, rubbing over the skin gently, "you're trying everything to lure me in longer huh"

kook smiled sleeply against your skin, his head moved to your shoulder so he could look at your face better, lips roaming over your collarbone, settling on them for a split second, "is it working?"

"don't know, might have to try a bit harder" you answered in a joking tone, your fingers tracing light patterns on his back.

he squints his eyes, a faint smile on his face, raising his eyebrows, "oh really?" fake innocence added into his tone.

you were stupid.

in fact very much so.

out of experience you should've known that jungkook has an unbelievable amount of sheer competitivness inside him and if you unleash that - you're pretty much fucked.

you should've recognized that familar grin, you should've recognized those wandering hands of his that would do anything just to prove you wrong, just to remind you that nobody doubts him without well- consequences!

those consequences may include: him in the beginning softly manhandling you (in his own way y'know) which turns into him throwing away any sense of tiredness or gentleness he had before, sentences like "feel me fuckin pounding, listen to it" or "so much fuckin cum" rolling over his tongue as he overstimulates you over and over again.

damn well keeping that clock on the night stand at the corner of his eyes, just to rub it into your face, "how easy it was to get you to do this" or "wonder where your colleges think you are, they'd never guess i'm balls deep into you huh"

and oh he's looking for answers from you too, "what are you gonna tell your boss now?" half mumbeled half groaned as he slams into you once more chasing that 3rd orgasm, obviously knowing you're way to brainfucked to understand think about even responding.

"should've kept your fucking mouth shut, don't you think?" and all you can do in response is whimper and moan like a little bitch.

weirdly enough that's what satisfies him - the slutty expression on your face, the way your mouth stays slightly parted, the way your pussy tightens around him, the way your tits just fit so easily in his hands like they were made for him (which he'll openly say 2!), the way you sound, the way your body looks when he fucks you senseless - everything about you like this is so endearing to him and worth repeating over and over again.

he can be real sweet after, acting like it never even happened, bringing you breakfast to bed while you were lying bare trying to regain your brain acess again, innocently saying smth along the lines of: "i called you in sick for today" then adding, "it's not like it's worth going anyway might just spend the day with me" okay whatever you say kook :3

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irisintheafterglow · 9 months

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uno wild card: stop writing for coparenting!megumi with satoru or draw 25

me, with 95 cards already in my hand:

also cw this is angst/comfort 'cause apparently i'm in the mood for pain

"shh, shh, baby. you're okay. i'm right here. you're okay." his breath is still rapidly uneven, chest heaving while you hold him in your lap on his mattress. "megs, you need to breathe. you're okay. i've got you." it wasn't often that megumi had nightmares; but, every few months, something triggered in his mind and had him seeing monsters that weren't real. as if by instinct, you felt that something was off tonight. there wasn't any time for explanation as you peeled satoru's arms from your torso, just a hyperfocus on the panicked child in the next room over.

"i don't-i don't-" his voice breaks into strangled cries and his little fingers grip tighter on your clothes, one of satoru's old pajama shirts. fat drops run down his cheeks, eyes irritated and red. you continue to hush the boy, gently running your fingers through his hair as his tears soak through the fabric of your top.

"they won't get you, megs. i promise," you whisper into his temple, pressing your lips tenderly to his forehead. "you're okay." his chokes for air have decreased slightly, but he's still trembling like you'd just pulled him from a frozen-over lake.

"where's satoru?" you sigh, chest aching at the implications of those two words. it wasn't that megumi didn't want you there. whatever woke him up must have distressed him so much that he was actually acknowledging your boyfriend. it broke your heart into a few more pieces.

"next door, fast asleep. do you want me to go get him?" he immediately tenses against you, wrapping his arms around your neck so you couldn't get up. "megs?"

"please don't leave me," he pleads. his voice is small and riddled with fear. you nod, slipping one arm under his tiny legs so that he's hanging on you like a monkey.

"can i bring you to our bed? is that okay?"

"mhmm," he hums exhaustedly into your shoulder. his breaths have evened out to a relatively calm rhythm, but he still holds on to you like you'd launch into the stratosphere if he let go. pulling back the covers with one hand, you gently set the boy down next to satoru, who sleepily blinks open a curious blue eye.

"and where might you be going?" he quietly asks in the darkness of the room, propped on an elbow as you make to go back to megumi's bed. megumi was already fast asleep, curled into himself with satoru's hand protectively on his head.

"i'll be right back; i'm gonna go grab his wolf."

"come back quickly. i miss you," he yawns and you can tell it's taking a lot out of him to not fall back asleep. still, his constant need for your presence has you chuckling under your breath.

"i've been awake for five minutes, love."

"five minutes too long, so hurry up." it's barely twenty seconds that you're gone, picking up megumi's favorite stuffie and crawling back under the blankets with your boys. his arms unconsciously wrap around the wolf and he sighs deeply in contentment. despite the calm, your chest still felt like it was aching for the boy and it was almost too much. it almost is, until satoru's hand reaches out to brush your cheek with his knuckles. "hey, beautiful."

"hi, handsome. you okay?"

"i'm great, albeit a little sleepy," he drawls, glancing down at the snoring kid between your bodies. "nightmare?" you hum in assent, pulling megumi closer when he flips over to hug you. satoru takes his chance and tugs both of you into him until his arms stretched over both you and megumi. "he say what it was about?"

"he didn't, though it must have been pretty bad since he was asking for you," you reply. you expect a lightheartedly indignant protest, but all you're met with is a deep, deep frown. "why the face?"

"poor kid shouldn't be having nightmares so bad that he forgets he hates me." you scoff, careful not to wake the kid. your kid.

"he doesn't hate you, satoru."

"okay," he concedes, "'mildly dislikes' for the sake of comedy."

"there you go," you smile at him and he gazes lovingly back at you.

"you know, i really didn't plan for you to be part of this mentorship equation," he confesses and your eyebrow raises in question of his point. "but," he continues, pressing a kiss to your nose. "i'm so glad you're in it."

"i love you, satoru."

"you promise?"

"on the moon and the stars."

#gojo x you #gojo x reader #gojo x y/n #satoru gojo x you #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo x y/n #satoru x you #satoru x reader #satoru x y/n #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #jjk angst/comfort

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buckyalpine · 9 months

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Drunk Bucky wants uppies

Fluffy crack drabble. Bucky wants uppies.

He's drank the teams entire body weight in alcohol and he's never felt happier. His flushed cheeks almost hurt from the dopey grin he has on his face. He keeps giggling to and snickering to himself, twirling around the straw of a pink fruity drink, deciding it doesn't count as alcohol when it looks so pretty. He's basically drinking water, just as Steve instructed.

After a few more glasses of his spicy water, he stands up and immediately lands face flat onto the floor with a muffled -oof

His current state is more amusing than concerning; Steve and Sam howl with laugher at the super soldier who is currently making no effort to get up.

"You good tin man?"

"wanupy" His voice is muffled, mumbling something with his face still pressed to the soft carpet of the compound living room while you go over to kneel beside him to see how he's doing.

"What is it Buck" You whisper, carding your fingers through his soft locks, smiling at the way he hums, rolling around to flop on his back instead.

"Uppies" He looks at you with outstretched grabby hands, puppy eyes wide, hoping you'd scoop him right up and take him to his room. Never mind that he's over a foot taller and probably double your weight, he wants to be carried right now.

"Uppies?"

"Uppies" He nods with confidence, blinking and waiting patiently to be picked up while you giggle.

"Did he just say uppies?" Sam stares and Steve before looking back at the 6ft+ man acting like a baby on the floor. "The former Winter Soldier, scary assassin, the man that threw me off the edge of a building just said he wants uppies?"

"Yes. Yes he did" Steve ran a hand over his face, debating on helping or watching this play out. He decided on the latter.

"I can't carry you Buck, you're too heavy" You coo, running your finger over his pouty lips pulled into a frown.

"M'not heavy" Bucky huffed in offence, throwing an adorable tantrum, refusing to move. In all fairness, at this point he wasn't able to get up himself anyway. "Uppies please"

"Alright, c'mon punk" Steve snorted, getting up from the stool he was sitting at along with Sam, both men picking Bucky off the floor and walking towards the elevator.

"Fuckin' uppies, how much do you weigh" Sam grunted while Bucky let out a sleepy yawn, his head resting on Steve's shoulder. Both men waited for you to open the door before helping him into bed.

"Wan cuddles" Bucky mumbled, reaching out for you to join him with his best pout.

"Okay I'm out, cuddles is where I draw the line" Sam playfully pushed you into Bucky's outstretched arms while Steve threw you a wink, both men softly closing the door behind them leaving you two alone.

"You want cuddles?" You whispered, squeaking when Bucky flipped you onto your back with ease, deciding to use you like a human pillow.

"Cuddles" He nodded, quickly falling asleep afterwards, blissfully unaware that Sam would never let him live this moment down.

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wasteddmoondust · 1 month

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little family || remus lupin

pairing: remus lupin x reader 1,258 words, single mom! reader, established relationship, FLUFFY FLUFF, kid fic, maybe i just crave domesticity a/n: back to back fics like who is she... (had this in the drafts for a WHILE) omfg guys this was soooo crazy indulgent I'm gong crazy no i did not proof read but i hope you like it anway

Remus is just about to leave work when he gets the call. He sees your contact name pop up on his screen, Y/N <3.

"Hello?" he says when he picks up the call.

"Hi, Re," you reply. You voice sounds rushed and anxious. "Do you happen to be free today?"

"I am, love. What is it?" he asks softly, stopping in his tracks to listen to you.

"Something came up at work today that I have to stay and handle, could you pick up Lyla from daycare?"

Lyla, a little girl equivalent to a ball of sunshine. Though you had only been dating for over a year, he sees her as his own.

"Of course I will. I'll bring her back to yours?"

"Yes please, thank you so much. I'll buy takeout for dinner when I'm done. You okay with that?"

"Yeah, sure. I'll go pick her up now."

He hears you heave a sigh of relief over the phone. "I appreciate you so much, I love you."

He smiles. "I love you, too. I'll see you later."

Remus reaches the daycare and realises he doesn't know what he's supposed to do. He walks by the window and sees Lyla colouring in her classroom. She notices the movement and looks up from her drawing. He can't hear her through the window but she's jumping around and cheering at the sight of him, waving excitedly.

He waves back at her, smiling, then notices one of her teachers gesturing to meet her at the entrance.

She gets past the gate to the classroom, leaving Lyla behind. "Hi, I know you're here for Lyla but since you're not her mum I'm going to need your ID," she says pulling out a file from one of the shelves.

He pulls out his wallet and gives it to her and watches her scan a list of what seems to be names of parents of the children.

She takes a few seconds and finally says, "Ah yes, Remus Lupin. You're on her list. I'll get her for you." He watches the teacher look into the classroom and call Lyla.

And then he realises. He's on the list. He's on the list of people who can pick Lyla up from daycare. You put him on the list of people who can pick Lyla up from daycare.

He's snapped out of his thoughts when he hears Lyla's voice. "Remoose!" she yells, running up to him.

"Hiya, angel," he says and picks her up. His heart melts as she immediately wraps her arms around his neck for a hug. "Mummy will join us later, but for now it's just you and me, okay?"

"We can watch TV?" she asks. "And then- then play toys?"

"Mhm, that sounds like a good plan," Remus replies, and they head to your home.

Later, you turn your key to your flat and open the door. You can hear the television playing a movie and the sound of your daughter's laughter. You kick off your shoes and walk into the living room.

Remus is covered in the fake makeup from Lyla's child-friendly kit. His hair is also adorned with little flower hair clips. He sits cross-legged on the floor while she sits in his lap.

"Looks like you had a lot of fun without me, hm?" you say. Lyla jumps at the sound of your voice, immediately running to you.

"Mummy! Remus fetched me today!"

"I know, darling," you kiss her cheek. "I asked him to. Did he take good care of you?"

She nods aggressively. She runs back to Remus, who is already walking up to you.

"Well don't you look pretty today," you tease. He smiles and breathes a soft laugh.

"My makeup artist is talented. She's very serious about this," he presses a kiss to your forehead. "You hungry? I can heat up dinner."

"That'd be great, and then it's time for this bug to go to bed," you pick up Lyla. "Isn't that right?"

She lays her head on your shoulder, visibly getting sleepy as it gets closer to her usual bedtime.

"Say good night to Remus?" you turn your body, so she faces him.

Remus bends down to kiss her hair, "Good night, angel."

Lyla slowly closes her eyes, "G'night..."

Putting your baby to bed goes smoothly, and she easily winds down as she is tucked into bed. She snuggles into her blanket and looks up at you.

"I like it when Remus fetches me from school," you hear her mumble.

You smile at that. "Really?"

She nods. "I really like Remus."

"I really like Remus too, darling."

"I think you get very happy around him, Mummy," she whispers. "You were not very happy last year, but now I see you be happy with him. So I'm happy."

You feel your heart do something. Jump? Lurch? Lyla was right, being a single parent comes with its challenges and you can admit a lot of late nights were spent biting your nails and wiping tears from your cheeks. You tried your best to prevent her from seeing you in that state, but you know she's observant enough for her age.

And that's why you're so thankful to have met Remus. He accepted you despite the fact you had a whole child. He saw you not only as you but also as the mother of your child. He understood that Lyla would always be a priority to you over romance (unlike most men you've met). Despite all its complications, he has been able to fit into your lives as if he's already meant to be there.

A prime example could be taken from today. Surely he could've said no to picking up Lyla from daycare, he's just her mother's boyfriend, after all. But he agreed and handled the rest.

"He does make me really happy," you say to her. "Does he make you happy too?"

"Mhm! He always plays with me and watches shows with me. He also hugs me and kisses me. He makes me happy. He's like my Daddy."

You chuckle, trying to hide the way your heart is going crazy at that. Somehow, you take the leap. "You want Remus to be your Daddy?"

"Can I call him my Daddy?" she asks, her eyes hopeful.

"You'll have to ask him tomorrow," you say, and you wonder what his reaction would be.

"Okay, I'll ask him tomorrow. Good night, Mummy."

You kiss her forehead, "Good night, darling."

You walk out of her room to see Remus placing your plate of food on the table for you. Without saying anything, you approach him and hug him. He hugs you back.

He is silent for a while, swaying your body slowly as you hug. "You were in there for a while, what were you talking about?" he mumbles into your hair.

You take a deep breath and look up at him, chin resting on your chest. "I love you," you say.

He furrows his brows but nods anyway. "I love you, too."

"Lyla wants to call you her dad."

Remus stops swaying. What is he thinking?

"Okay," he says, simply.

You jerk your head back, "Really?"

"Of course, I love her too, you know. I'd be honoured."

Chuckling, you bury your head into his chest and squeeze him. You feel him press a kiss into your hair.

"We're like a little family," he whispers to you. And you can see it too. You, your daughter, and Remus altogether as one.

And there's honestly nothing you want more than that.

a/n: SO LIKE UM this has been in the drafts about the same time as the james one like i said this is just very very indulgent brainrot i still have plans for the james series!!!!!!! ty sm for your support <3 likes and reblogs are always appreciated.

#marauders x reader #marauders imagine #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin fanfiction #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x y/n #remus lupin imagine #zee writes

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astraystayyh · 1 year

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nights with hyunjin <3

little fluffy hyunjin fic inspired by the fact he sends good night msgs on bubble at the latest hours. lowercase intended.

2 am

"where do you see yourself in twenty years?" you whisper, buried under the thick white covers with Hyunjin. You can't see his face, but your nose brushes against his and his warm hand is on your back, keeping you close.

"where will you be in twenty years?" he replies instantly and you feel your cheeks heat up at his words.

"hyune, just answer the question," you whine after a few silent beats and he giggles slightly, "i am. doesn't matter where I'll be, as long as you're there."

you draw in a deep breath, suddenly feeling as if his words were keeping you at his mercy, completely unarmed. "you mean it?" you ask, grabbing onto his arm tightly.

"i do," he reassures, bopping his nose softly against yours, "you are my present and future, angel."

3 am

"what are you drawing?" you ask as you enter hyunjin's art studio, two cups of chamomile tea in your hands. you place them down and stand behind hyunjin, who leans his back onto your chest, melting into your touch. you wrap your arms around his shoulders in response, softly kissing the top of his hair. he smells like your shampoo.

"a house," he replies. his left hand wraps around your thigh, grazing up and down the exposed skin. "our house, i hope," he adds quietly and you feel your heart skip a beat.

"ours?"

"mm. wanna buy you a house. with a little garden and a view of the beach."

"i'll plant lots and lots of flowers for us there." you smile, admiring the pastel colors blending seamlessly in his painting.

"just make sure they won't die," he teases and you fake a gasp, "are you underestimating my gardening capabilities?"

hyunjin blindly grabs your arm, spinning you around so you'd sit on his lap.

"nonsense, you are my little florist," he grins cheekily and you touch his cheeks softly.

"these are cute," you tell him, referencing to his now apparent dimples. little pools for you to drown in.

"you are cuter."

"I'm still not over your flowers comment."

"I will kiss you for every flower you plant."

"that's a lot of kisses."

"i know," he smiles at you, his eyes turning into moon crescents. yours.

5 am

"can't believe she still likes him," hyunjin huffs loudly and you laugh, your hand softly threading through his hair.

"it's just a show baby."

"i know but listen," he stands up from between your legs, eyes wide looking into yours, "he just told her he doesn't find her beautiful. who says that to their lover?"

"he's stupid, she's clearly out of his league and he's threatened by that."

"right!" he claps in agreement, "she deserves better."

"she does," you giggle as he lays down again, face now buried in your chest.

"you do know i find you the most beautiful person in the world?" he whispers and your eyes soften at him.

"you tell me."

"but do you know it?"

"i do."

"good, because if you didn't then I'm a horrible boyfriend too," he shudders and you giggle at the horrified look on his face.

"you aren't, my love."

later on that night, while you are brushing your teeth, hyunjin pops his head into the bathroom. "baby," he calls out and you hum in reply.

"you are beautiful," he says and you raise an eyebrow in question at him, mouth full of toothpaste.

"just making sure you don't forget it."

4 am

"I'm getting sleepy," you say quietly. it was nearing four am and hyunjin has been playing with your hair for what felt like an eternity. braiding small sections of it, only to open them once again.

"me too."

"let's try to sleep."

"don't want to," he mumbles against your hair and you chuckle. "why?"

"if we go to sleep then it will be morning really soon which means i have to leave you."

his words make your heart clench in your chest. nights with hyunjin were your favorite parts of your existence. there was no pressure, no expectations on the both of you. you could just be two humans in love, under the kind gaze of the moon.

"okay, baby. what do you want to do?"

"i just want to look at you," he says quietly and you nod, getting away from his hold. you lay your head on your pillow and he does the same, this way you're both facing each other.

you feel yourself relax completely under hyunjin's gaze, because it's filled with love. for you. his pointer finger traces over your features, delicately, as if he was grazing a porcelain vase. and you let him. his touch is so soft it makes something warm stir within your stomach. it wasn't untamed butterflies, fluttering their wings to escape. it was something comfortable and safe, finding its home within you.

"you are so pretty," he whispers and you smile softly at his words.

"so are you." your right hand rises gently to rest on top of his cheek, and you swipe your thumb slowly across it. hyunjin's eyes flutter closed at the contact and you feel a wave of fondness flood within you.

you'd do anything to preserve this serene look on his face.

"try to sleep. I'll be here when you wake up." you finally say.

"you promise me?"

"i promise."

#not proofread just trying to get out of a writing slump #hyunjin x reader #stray kids x reader #hyunjin fluff #skz hyunjin #skz fluff #skz x reader #stray kids fluff #stray kids hyunjin

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peachesofteal · 8 months

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That nurse au? Devoured it and it lives in my brain rent free. If Simon and Johnny notice the bruises on Nurse do they share looks? Maybe Johnny tries to gently ask about them? I loved this so much.

Anon is referencing this. The way nurse x ghoap has spread through my brain like a flesh eating bacteria is insane. And I can't actually answer this ask because I'm writing it as a fic but I'm happy to give you a little possible snippet/glimpse/ramble down below:

The tablet in your hand chimes, drawing your attention away from the vending machine and to it's far-too-bright-for-this-ungodly-hour screen, to where it displays a status change in red.

268: 38.5 degrees.

Fuck. You abandon your sub par dinner options for nearly sprinting to the room, slowing to a walk to take long, deep breaths before your knuckles are rapping on the glass. Get control of yourself. Simon is too perceptive. He will panic. It could be nothing.

You don't even bother acknowledging your thought process there, the truth that is starting to bleed from your heart, through your body like a disease. The reason why you check on them so often, the reason why you can't stop thinking about them, even when you're off shift. The reason why, when you go home in the morning to go to bed, you drift off thinking about Johnny's sleepy smile, or Simon's voice, humming in your ears.

"Hi." You whisper when you slip inside. He straightens a bit in the armchair, but you're happy to see he's using it as a recliner now, progress from last week when he wouldn't even let himself lean backwards, or fall asleep willingly.

His brow furrows above the black mask.

"Hey, everything alright?" Shit. You're not surprised, you were just in here, after all. Spending too much time sitting in the chair opposite him, next to Johnny, on your break before your patient fell asleep.

"Yeah, I ah... have to draw some blood." You really do not want to wake him up, or alarm Simon, but you also refuse to lie to either of them. You fire off a text to the attending on call, just to advise him of Johnny's temperature and the impending labs that he can expect, before sliding a drawer open as softly as possible and pulling out everything you'll need. You can feel his gaze burning a hole in your scrubs, his ever present scrutiny impossible to escape. Sometimes you think he might be reading your fucking mind.

"He just fell asleep." He protests, and you think, you imagine, that he's frowning behind the mask. You think you almost know what it looks like, strong mouth pulled downwards in consternation, wide jaw gnashed tight.

"I know, but he's running just a bit of a fever." He jolts, and you hold up a hand in caution. "It's not too high, so I'm not super worried, but we'll need to check his white cell count, just in case okay? And then we'll go from there."

"Post op fever is common." He repeats the words you told him last week, after Johnny's second surgery, the one where they went in for the pneumothorax complication, and you nod to reassure him.

"Right. So, just going to do a quick blood draw and get it downstairs so we can find out what's going on." Simon shifts uncomfortably, but nods. You squeeze Johnny's shoulder softly, before swabbing the spot on the inside of his elbow.

He blinks, eyes opening slowly, confused brow smoothing when he looks from his partner, over to you.

"There's our girl." He mumbles softly, and your face heats, eyes widening in surprise before you regulate your reaction. Simon coughs, loudly, and you shake your head with a nervous smile.

"Such a flirt, MacTavish." You tie him fast, fingers a little more clumsy than usual, off balance from hearing him say 'our girl', like you mean something to them. "I just need to get some blood and then I'll leave you in peace." He shrugs, but Simon grabs for his hand and squeezes it.

"Ah come on, Si." He slurs, but reaches to cup Simon's cheek over the mask, rubbing a thumb over the fabric.

"You're runnin’ a fever, Johnny."

"Ach. 's nothing." He brushes it off, but you watch how his eyes are slow to track Simon's movements. You casually glance at the monitor, noting his blood pressure.

"Could be." You assure him. "But can't be too sure, so we're going to check a few labs, alright?" He nods, sleepy, already falling back under, and you pull the needle, taping a small patch of gauze over the puncture in one fell swoop. “Alright. Let me run these down, and I’ll be back up to check on you in a bit.” You turn, stripping your gloves off into the trash.

“We’ll miss ye.” He whispers, and you roll your eyes playfully, even as your stomach clenches.

Simon’s eyes don’t leave you for a single second, not until the door is shut and you’re out of sight.

#nurse x ghoap #idk what we're calling this #peaches asks #peaches writes #ghoap x reader #ghost x soap x reader #ghost x soap #simon riley #john soap mactavish #simon riley x reader #john soap mactavish x reader

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mncxbe · 7 days

Text

# . ݁₊ ⊹ riding Denji in the bathtub while Aki's at home ݁˖ . ݁⭑𝒄𝒘: light nipple play, creampie, established relationship

I keep thinking about being in a secret relationship with Denji and sneaking around so that your roommates don't figure out you two are a thing. it's not an easy task especially since Power is nosy and Aki is observant, but you make it work, which sometimes means that you end up riding Denji in the bathtub.

with your hand clamped over his mouth to prevent any noises from slipping, you grind your hips against Denji's. the feeling of his tip pressed snuggly against your sweet spot and the hot vapors in the small bathroom the made you feel dizzy. "shit– Denji keep it down baby" you huffed out when he whined, his grip on your hips growing impossibly tight as he struggled to keep quiet. " 'm sorry" he mumbled into your palm, pretty brown eyes rolling in the back of his skull from the sheer pleasure he experienced.

and god he looked so pretty with his hair still damp from the bath he took, the muscles of his arms flexing as he aided your movements, bouncing you on his cock. the occasional mewls and moans he let out were music to your ears and you removed your hand from his mouth, leaning down to kiss him. Denji moaned into your mouth, a hand ghosting over your side before he cupped your tit, rolling your nipple between two fingers. the sensation made you clench around his dick, your back arching and thighs squeezing his sides.

"ya like it?" he mused, his blush deepening when he noticed the fucked out expression on your face. you looked prettiest like this and he swore he could cum just by looking at you. still, he leaned his head back against the edge of the tub, breathing in the hot air. the bathroom smelt like soap and sex– fuck, how were you two going to hide this from Aki when he came to brush his teeth in the morning?

just then, a loud knock on the door made your movements halt. Aki's sleepy voice sounded from the hallway. "Denji can you hurry up? you've been in there for an hour what on earth are you doing?"

"oh shit–" huffed your boyfriend, trying to push you off him "we're screwed if he catches us. pressing your hand back over Denji's mouth to shut him up, you sunk down on his length– you'd be damned if you were going to let Aki ruin your orgasm. Denji's eyes shot open in surprise at you actions, a weak moan spilling from his lips.

"it's me in here, Aki. i think Denji went back to his room" you spoke in a surprisingly level tone as you bounced on your boyfriend's cock. you could only hope that your roommate wouldn't hear the squelching sounds your pussy made around Denji. "oh i see, sorry y/n i didn't mean to interrupt. i just needed to use the toilet"

"okay, i'll let you know when i'm out" you huffed out, biting down on your lip as the blond's hands gripped your ass, his fingers sinking in the fat there. he picked up the pace, basically moving you up and down his length, making you writhe in pleasure. your tits bounced with every thrust, his dick abusing your sweet spot made your eyes roll back, warmth pooling in the pit of your stomach.

you were so close, barely able to form a coherent thought and being forced to keep quiet was making the whole thing so much hotter. drool seeped from the corner of your mouth as your pussy sapasmed around Denji's dick, milking the orgasm out of him. "oh shit, shit i'm cumming too" moaned the blond, his nails digging in your hips, almost drawing blood as he shot his warm seed inside you. you grabbed the sides of the tub, steadying yourself while you rode out your high.

once you managed to regain your composure you slumped against him, heaving. your breaths mingled as you placed a chaste kiss to his lips, earning a giggle from from the blond. "now that was fun" he smiled, tucking a damp strand of hair behind your ear. "god, i love ya so much baby i swear one day i'll–"

"you two are sooo royally screwed" sounded a voice from the other side of the door.

shit, Aki. you'd completely forgotten about him.

#✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡♡˚csm thirsts #csm #csm denji #denji x reader #chainsaw man #chainsaw man smut #chainsaw man denji #denji csm

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diorcities · 11 months

Text

lace teddy (ldh)

♡ pairing: haechan x reader. ♡ genre: fluff. ♡ content: parents au, established relationship, dad!hyuck, sleepy!hyuck. ♡ wc: 0,5 k an: once you enter this state you don't get to leave, huh? read second part.

you stir in your dreams as your senses stretch and intertwine in a spiral that lulls you into semi-unconsciousness before the icy touch on your arm pulls you out of the planet of dreams. because there he is, at the foot of your bed, watching you with sleepy eyes.

“mommy.” he whimpers in a whisper, pulling you out of your slumber almost immediately and shooting your body upright. “jisoo, sweetheart...” you murmur, gently removing the placid arm around your waist to take the child in your arms. he's freezing. an alarm goes off in your instinct and you panicked, thinking on repeat to protect him at all costs. “i dreamt bad things,” he confesses, rubbing his eyes as you bring him with you under the covers. “oh, baby...” you try to warm him up by stroking his back and hair. your lips leave a small kiss on the crown of his head. “don't worry, love.”

something shifts behind you as you lull jisoo to sleep. haechan's been dreaming a dream he no longer remembers because he's aware now. something's missing. without the warmth of your embrace he's getting cold, so between dreams, his hands seek for you in the dark. not awake, barely conscious, he mutters your name. is he having a dream about you?

reaching your body and drawing you to him as he gains consciousness, hearing your whispered voice saying something. completely lethargic, he nuzzles into your neck as he wakes up almost automatically; he hears you clearly now. “a monster!” the child whisper in a squeal. “oh my goodness, what makes it a monster?” he's barely awake, yet a smile flourishes on his lips the moment he hears your voices trying to stay quiet as you chuckle.

“he has tremendous teeth and it's hairy.” you patiently hear him explain. “did he harm you?” you wonder, feeling him shaking his head, “well, maybe his only crime is looking terrifying,” you observe. “maybe next time you can ask him if he's scared too.” your head lolls to one side just to see haechan peeking over your shoulder, with his cheek pressed on your skin and his eyes traveling to yours, something like love expands in your chest. “can you stay with jisoo while i check on donghyun?” you ask, watching him nodding as he lazily shakes off his dreams.

you get out of bed and walk down the hall to the half-open room. there is barely a faint light coming from the moon-shaped lamp in the outlet, which allows you to see the figure crouched in its crib. in the gloom, you approach donghyun and make sure he is okay. combing his little caramel curls out of his plump, tanned cheeks. two brown sleepy orbs blink at you. “mom... i was trying to fall asleep to fight jisoo's monster.” you stroke his hair, in awe. “were you?” you say in shock as a laugh escapes your lips. “i'm sorry, love.”

seeing that you are there, you make sure that he is well. “want to come with us?” you take him in your arms. “i'm sure you will, baby,” you assure him as he explains his scheme with slurred and sleepy words, remaking the way to your room. you're about to go inside, but suddenly stop halfway to record the intimate moment that unfolds inside the bedroom. unable to interrupt, you sharpen your ears as donghyun rests his head on your shoulder, dozing.

you barely hear your husband's melodic voice humming a song you vaguely remember hearing. savoring the name on the tip of your tongue, your heart bloom at the familiar lyrics. “the monster's gone, he's on the run. and your daddy's here...” you smile tenderly as your hand caresses donghyun's back, ultimately recognizing what he's singing.

he's there, with his eyes closed as he comforts jisoo into his arms. lyrics slipping from his lips full of love.

“beautiful, beautiful, beautiful. beautiful boy.”

#haechan imagines #haechan fluff #donghyuck fluff #haechan blurbs #haechan x reader #nct dream fluff #♡haechan #♡teddy

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alessiasfreckles · 3 months

Note

9/24 alessia kiss roulette pls xx

sweet dreams - alessia russo x reader

9. A kiss to the eyelid / 24. A sleepy kiss

-------

The bedroom door opened just enough for Alessia to step through, the hallway slightly illuminated by the streetlights outside. She quietly placed her bag on the floor, and tried to change out of her clothes without making any noise.

"You're home!" you mumbled, making her jump.

"Shit, babe, you scared me!" she said, then laughed softly. "I was trying not to wake you, I'm sorry."

You could just make out her outline in the darkness of your bedroom, your eyes still adjusting.

"No, I told you to wake me, remember? I wanted to see you," you told her.

"Still," she insisted.

"Shhh," you said, bringing a finger to your lips even though you knew she couldn't see you. "No arguing. Come cuddle."

She hesitated. "Since you're awake, is it okay if I have a really quick shower? I just feel gross from being on the plane, but I didn't want to wake you if the shower was noisy."

"Okiedokie, baby," you mumbled, eyes already half shut.

You must have drifted off, because the next thing you knew, Alessia was climbing into bed, wrapping an arm around you.

"Hi!" you said, smiling happily.

"Hi," she sighed, nuzzling her head into the crook of your head. "I missed you."

"Missed you too," you said, rolling over to face her. You opened your eyes just enough to see her face, and smiled. "Missed your face. 'nd your cuddles. 'nd your kisses."

You could feel her giggle, her breath brushing your skin. She held you tighter, drawing patterns on your back with one hand.

"Was your flight okay?" you asked, eyes shut again.

She nodded. "Yeah. Little bit bumpy but it was okay. Sat next to Ella, she kept teasing me because I was so excited about getting to see you again."

You smiled sleepily. She kept talking, knowing it wouldn't be long before you were out.

"The girls asked about you. Called you 'my girl', which I like, 'cos it's true, you are my girl. I wish you could come with me to camps, I don't like being away from you for that long."

Your breath slowed as she spoke, her voice a reassuring melody.

"I love you, y/n," she said, watching to see whether you would react or not. When you didn't, she knew you were well and truly asleep again, and she smiled. She kissed each closed eyelid, impossibly gentle, making sure she didn't wake you, and then pressed a soft kiss to your lips, making you sigh happily in your sleep.

"Goodnight, baby," she said, and held you tight underneath the covers. "Sweet dreams."

#sorry this is so short!! hope everyone still likes it #hannah writes blurbs #alessia russo #awfc #woso #woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso imagine #alessia russo x reader #alessia russo imagine #alessia russo fanfic #alessia russo fluff #alessia russo blurb #woso blurb #woso fluff

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rixsjwb · 1 month

Text

smokey geto, university au

at around 2 p.m., you wake up to the smell of smoke, specifically from a cigarette.

as you feel the sleepiness in your eyes seemingly never going away. You don't fully register what's going on until you eventually sat up. to find yourself sleeping on sugurus bed, while he sat right next to you while satoru played video games with shoko. sukuna and toji scrolling on their phones occasionally showing each other funny videos.

it was weird seeing them not throwing insults at each other and wanting to commit mass murder on one another, as you laid flat on your side, you used your arms too supporting you upright, you couldn't even full take in where to place your hands and you just put it anywhere you could, while doing so your hand lands on something solid and you hear a groan emit from the object.

it was suguru.

your hand had landed on his lower abdomen when trying to sit yourself up, "m'sorry." You say muffled tiredness still lingering in your voice. Your eyes start to see the hazey looking air, thinking your eyes are playing tricks on you, you waft the air in front of you while rubbing your eyes.

you feel yourself come crashing down when the energy you had left, left your body. your head coming in contact with the soft mattress, but you could see suguru in your view of looking up at the ceiling. you could feel his hand running in between the strands of your hair, almost lulling you back to sleep.

but the smoke in the air that starts to go down your lungs caused a violent cough to erupt out of you, drawing most of your friends to check up on you.

"You okay?" satoru asked, the cigarette limply slaying out of his mouth now, gone, as he held it between his index and middle finger. you mumble something that was intelligible, dragging the warm blanket with you too the living room to get more sleep, as the room was pretty much a widefire once the flames were put out, so much smoke.

you never liked when your friends did smoked. not only for their heath but yours too, obviously you don't want to force them too stop, I mean, shokos have been smoking since freshman year, do you really think they'll stop smoking on your request? probably not. Who knows?

as you snuggled up on the couch, the silent aura carried around the living room. You hear the soft click of a door opening and soft footsteps coming closer to you.

you grab the blanket and throw it over your entire face so not a limb is outside of the blanket, but when you feel a hand rest just above you, the blanket acting like a barrier, you start to tug and shove the person throwing their weight on you. you chuckle at their attempt to rip the blanket off you. but eventually, you remove it from your face to see who exactly it is.

"What are you doing here?" You ask tone muffled and quiet even with nothing covering your mouth, "m'wanted peace n' quiet." his baritone voice rumbles as he spoke, sounding a little more raspy than usual, probably from the smoke.

"hey ghetto, how come you always smoke?" you ask a genuine question, you wonder. you watch as he makes a face at the name you jokingly give him, but you both bath In the solitude of eachother.

silence.

"m'dont know, just do, I guess. don't like the smell of the smoke?" he said, you feel hesitant to nod your head, you don't wanna upset him because you don't like the choices he makes, but again it's his body so he can do whatever he'd like.

"yea, aren't you afraid of the lung diseases coming to get you?" You say it's a serious saying, But you can't help but chuckle a little. "You're too young and handsome to spend your days in a hospital." You say, hand stretching out to play with the ends of his long, straight, healthy looking hair. it had gotten longer than you'd remembered.

suguru stays quiet almost in Ponder about what your saying,"and plus not only are you killing you but your killing me cause I have to breath that shit whenever I'm around you, we'll be leukemia twins." Your chuckle sets a vibration in your chest.

you start to play with his hands in the silences, you start to think your words may have come off alittle aggressive and rude, but before you could say anything he beat you too it.

"Don't worry, yr'pretty mind, I promise I'll stop from now on." it takes you by surprise by how quickly it took for him to consider your words.

"You sur-" "Yes, I am. don't want you breathin' in these harmful chemicals."

you decide to joke around with him abit "can I try?" You point to the cigarette in between his fingers, " no silly, it's bad for you." You laugh at the irony of the situation

you watch as he smothers the ciggar into an ashtray, and you can already see the smoke clearing up. he opens the windows to seemingly air out the house before he makes his way back too you, laying his body weight on top of you.

"Get your sleep." he says Ina low tone, his hands drawing soft repetitive shapes on your skin, and he snuggles into your stomach enough to lul you back to sleep.

#jjk fanfic #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jjk x reader #suguru geto x you #geto suguru x you #suguru x y/n #geto suguru x reader #suguru getou x reader #suguru x you #suguru x reader #getou suguru x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #geto x reader #geto x y/n

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honestsycrets · 10 months

Text

exclusive | [miguel o'hara x reader, hobie brown x reader]

❛ pairing | fuck buddies: miguel o'hara x reader, hobie brown x reader (background pairing)

❛ type | one-shot, explicit

❛ summary | miguel learns his fuck buddy is fucking Hobie and feels some type of way about it.

❛ tags | heavy jealousy, somnophilia, fuck buddies, multiple partners, undisclosed sexual relationship, dubious consent: aggression/revenge, sloppy seconds, f!reader, lying by omission, spanish is not translated, an attempt at MLE, break ups, eating kitty, bit angsty, older hobie in this piece, break-ups.

❛ reqs fulfilled | Hey! I saw your requests were open and I wanted to know if you'd be down with writing something about Miguel x Reader who has been whining for his cock all day, crying and trying to run from it when he finally gives it to her? & where reader loves him but he doesn't, only for him to eventually fall in love but its too late because she's moved on, or vice versa

❛ sy's notes | here's for the anon that requested i release it. hope you like it, lil buddy.

Miguel wakes early in the morning.

Lyla usually woke him up with a Hey Miguel, Miguel, You have a meeting Miguel-- something teasing and aggravating all at once. That morning his room was so silent that he could nearly feel the heaving and dropping of a second heartbeat. His vision strains as his eyes take focus on the pitch-black room. He takes up the bulk of the bed with his large frame while the pillows are strewn over the floor. Your complaints of-- You never come to find me, you always ignore me. He quickly remembers what happened last night. Your legs were intertwined in his, scaling him like he was another bed in of himself.

"Lyla, what time is it?" he asks, massaging the crook in his neck. The world is quiet in his room. Out there, he knew there would be one problem after another. As soon as he peeled himself from the comfort of your warm embrace. Your legs intertwined in his, keeping him in the warmth of his bed, a spider's web of its own. He hates that he doesn't want to leave. Not yet, anyway. He knows he's in deep.

"About--" she pauses, "Nine o'clock?"

"¿Las nueve?" he shouts, pushing himself up on his thick forearms. "Damn it, Lyla!"

"I would've woken you up sooooner," she draws out in a long tease. "If you weren't too busy pounding your novía until three in the morning."

"She's not my girlfriend," not yet, he bit out, unpeeling your warm legs from his core. A brush more and he would have another type of problem to deal with that morning. As nice as it would have been to lay back down and wait until sleep released its tight grip on you, he had obligations.

"Yeah," she scoffs. "Okay, Miguel."

Lyla knew what he wanted. He wanted this. You-- to help make him forget the past and the future. To forget all the awful things that haunted him day to day. You could do that. He feels your sleepy eyes on him as he turns to sit up in his bed. Your heavy eyelids are cloaked with the ache for sleep. Or half-lidded in fervor for another round. He isn't sure which, yet.

"Te quiero, Miggy," he knows it isn't love you're talking about. Early in the morning, you need sex. He knows how insatiable you are even without your hands slinking around his muscular thigh, inching their way where they had no business going. He cups your hand and pushes away from his softness, knowing he has no time to spare getting worked up. Distracted. It's time to work.

"Manaña. Go back to sleep, I have things to do."

"Tomorrow? I'm not a tomorrow kinda girl, Miggy. " You're that kind of woman-- needy, achy, you need more from him. No matter how much he gave you with attentiveness and care, he could never give you enough. Your words are clear as you turn away, pouting. Miguel throws a look over his shoulder. "You're the only one who treats me like this."

There's the fit. Miguel ran his hand through his hair, shoving it out of his face as he gathers his bearings. You're slack against his back, lips curling into a pout at his suggestion that you'd simply have to wait for more attention.

"No empieces," he throws back. "I spent the night with you two nights in a row."

"To get off. Hobie's right about you. You'd never go to a show'a mine."

If there were ever an interloper in your relationship. It was, and would forever be, Hobie Brown. The displeasure on your face gently pulls at his heart. He's never been to one of your shows before. He's never even asked. It never seemed important to you until now.

He could do that.

"Where and when," his stomach roiled with something he'd distantly call anxiety. There was a truth to what Hobie said, he couldn't be a good boyfriend and take care of spider society all alone. He'd sure as hell try. If you thought Hobie was better, so be it. Miguel wrinkled his nose, concern lining his bushy eyebrows as he stood up, hands on his hips.

"Oh Miggy, that's just what I wanted. It's tomorrow!"

"Tomorrow, then."

Isn't that what he said earlier?

"Hobie!"

It doesn’t matter where it is, your eyes always seem to find Hobie. Ideally, Miguel would like your eyes to always find him. You spent the night in his arms yesterday and the night before that. Perhaps that was why you missed the spider punk. So when he walked into the meeting early that morning and dropped like a rock on the elevated platform you sat on, he wasn’t altogether surprised that you turned around to look at Hobie.

He was, however, surprised to see your hand slink along his plaid thigh, tugging on his lax suspenders. You're late, he heard you whisper. Yeah, what you going to do about it? Hobie reached out, letting his fingertips ghost lines up your arms. Miguel barks out your name, your fingers snapping back as if a spider bit them. They might.

“Oh my days, bruv, we gonna talk about this?” Hobie ripped off his mask, dropping it lazily by your hip. You swept it up and set it on your thighs. He suckled along the roof of his mouth, pulling his lip piercing in and out with a deliberate, slow hiss. “Or you busy watching my side ting?”

"Hobie," you willed him down. Your eyes catch and hold. "Shhh."

“Mans right pussywhipped,” Hobie balked out a laugh, bouncing at that awful word. His jaw tightened at the distinct sound of Hobie’s hands slapping your shoulder. Hobie is in a mood today. He wouldn’t mind if he wasn’t being picked on. “Look at him, is he serious? You mad, man?”

Hobie!

“I’m not.”

“I like the sound of that,” he could hear you whisper into Hobie’s ear, his senses more queued into small whispers than anyone else in the room. You rolled the word along your tongue. "Pussy whipped. You next?"

It was like he wasn’t even there. As if every moment you spent together was irrelevant. The days that the tips of your fingers grazed his shoulder blades, sweeping across his tight muscles. He remembered how it felt, your careful kisses on his neck after a long day, the drag of your nails across his muscular back as you took him so well on the desk he lectured at.

“You bugging? You know that's not happening. You ovulatin' today?”

Miguel prompts your name. You sit upright, his perfect good girl, a whole other person when you weren’t around Hobie. His brow creases and lines of worry and disappointment coalesce into a look that invites you to behave. You were listening now with a blow of a kiss at him as though that would deter him from finding out.

Miguel doesn’t like it when Hobie takes the piss out of him.

He especially doesn’t like that Hobie seems to know the intimate details about your body, like your cycle. That near the end of the month, every month, your sex drive ran wild. He thought it was a myth. None of the other women he had in his bed acted this way. You, however, were insatiable. If he didn’t know better… He flicked his fingers across amber screens, doing something he never did because he had no reason not to trust you. He skimmed your file.

Hobie was a consistent fixture in your life. Always at his damn concerts, clapping wildly at his old runway shows, drinking at the pub. You were an outlier dolled up in soft white, sparkling glitter makeup and darling strawberry blush next to a group of grungy anarchists and foul punks. On any given day, you might hold his head in your lap as your fingers coursed through his wicks. On special days, you buy new jewelry to change out the old. Every weekend, you like to sit on his lap in the pub of the week.

The others were negligible. He could excuse them. Hobie was something more. All it took was one offensive recording of sitting on Hobie’s lap in a seedy bar for his mind to turn red hot.

Despite being populated with many patrons, it didn’t stop you two from fucking in the bar after one of Hobie's loud shows. Others did the same exact shit. The ringing strumming, the shouting, fighting. It wasn't a scene he could see you at.

"Right there, papi, Hobie, there," your hips ground down, sultry moans puffing against his spiked choker while Hobie’s urged you up and down his cock, groping and slapping your ass around his dick. Your pink ballerina flats willing the movement by using the footrest to help guide your motion.

"Good, innit?" You didn't just like it, he realized, you loved it. Your huffy moans, the stares from strangers, the way Hobie commanded the scene. The bartender even threw Hobie a beer. Miguel wasn’t sure if it was Hobie's arrogance that no one was a threat or arrogance that no one would protest, but it pissed him off the same. He fucked you like it was nothing-- like fucking you in front of a host of sleazy men wasn’t a risk in and of itself.

He was too informal with you. He didn't treasure what he had. It was not the same, not like him. He heard your gentle footsteps in the lab. He shifted his weight between his feet, turning to see you hop up the platform. You fluttered your lashes angelically at him. Mi rey, you trilled. Your king. As though he hadn’t just watched you get railed by Hobie only days ago.

It was a fucking trap. A trap he was buying into, drinking you in. You looked pretty without your suit, clothed in a white, fluttery dress that barely kissed your thighs and nothing more. Like a fly to a spider web, he found himself gaping with his lips slightly apart. He brought his hand to his slight mouth, wiping away all inkling of his interest. You pout.

Miguel snapped back to his monitor. It was your scent lingering in the air, hypnotizing his dumb ass, your body eager and ready for him to pound full of his cum. Why else would you be in his lab? When you were strung out on his bed, properly bred, and leaking his cum, he was happy. He was happy with the tremors that wracked through your pathetic legs, that you were finally quiet for once in your damn--

“Oh? What's that?”

Miguel’s attention snapped to your figure, sliding along the edge of his desk, moving his hand without fear. You replaced it on your upper thigh, driving it between your legs. Horny again. His blown pupils followed the motion of your hand. He cursed his body for growing warm at the sight and smell of you. He hardening up as if his body had learned what to expect in the many days of experience fucking you. Most would have reconsidered what they were doing to him. Not you. You had no fear of men. You wanted him. Were you that insatiable?

“Hobie n' me?” you shimmied your shoulders with a knowing grin. The screen paused on a wet, sloppy kiss, Hobie's teeth nipping your lower lip. He was a biter. How had he missed his bites on your neck? Your soft, perfumed hand cradled Miguel's cheek, peppered in stubble. Your lips shifted up, tracing his sharp cheekbones. “Aw. I missed you too, Miggy. I always miss you. You're my big man.”

Yours. He might as well have been yours because you sure as damn weren't his. You led him on your little fingers with words like honey. A soothing honey that threatened to suffocate him in the weight of the words. If he listened long enough, he might fall in. Guilting him about his lack of time for you, Hobie Brown, the relationship you had, the kisses you exchanged, the sex-- the lies you omitted.

Miguel glides the clip away, bringing another to inspect. You remember it-- the day Hobie found out you fucked Miguel after a few hours of reconnaissance went south. You hadn't meant to piss him off. You only meant to take care of your needs. Needs that included sex. He was a means to an end, a brute that could fill what you needed. That much was becoming real clear, real fast.

"It go that bad? He got you in a fit," Hobie says. He can't help but notice you wringing out your suit, flinging it in your half-filled hamper by your bra, standing in nothing but a pair of soiled panties. Bruto, murmured under your breath-- a brute. He was. Hobie flickered his fingers off his guitar, a stray note irritating your hypersensitive ears. You cupped your ears in protest. "Oi, why are you airing me?"

"I'm not ignoring you. I just--" you bit the words, warm dread filling your chest with the next lie you told. You twirled your hands one over another. "I have a sore throat."

"A sore throat."

He wasn't buying that either.

"It's minor. Just a-- tú sabes, a little thing," you turned your hand over, whirling your bra drawer open with enough force to rip it out. Another growl rolled free from your lips, picking a powdery pink set and shoving it promptly back in. The drawer sat off-kilter. Hobie flipped his guitar over his shoulder and met you halfway, his hand warm on your mid back. It should have been comforting. Something in his eyes, even now, felt off. He recovered before you could answer.

"You fucked that man? Are you mad or what, wifey?"

You couldn't help feeling like you cheated on Hobie.

He stood upright, ripping himself away from your body, and brought his hand to his face to focus his thoughts. He had been fucking you for months-- and for months, he missed it. Miguel searched your eyes for a hint of shame or embarrassment. You had none, not even a lick. You were a kid in a panadería. Not only could you have Hobie, with his slender figure and exhibitionist qualities, but Miguel too-- with his big dick and need for love at the end of a long day’s work.

You played him.

His breath hitched as you turned around, shifting your hips back on his. It was enough. He had enough. His hand slammed over the rim, locking you in place against his muscular body. There was nowhere to run, even if you wanted to. You were happy to be there. Miguel wasn’t. His fingers trembled violently, forming a fist. You knew he wouldn't hit you. For all his rumble and roar, Miguel couldn't hurt you nearly as much as you could hurt him.

“You’re fucking Hobie,” he breathed into your ear.

“Mmm.”

A slight, noncommittal noise slipped out from your lips. It was not a denial, but not an agreement either. Irritation rippled across his skin with every damn swish of your round hips against his, shifting weight from one ball of your foot to the other. His body was alight with your soft body drawing trying to draw his pleasure to the surface. You were trying to distract him. Miguel wasn't about to let you.

"Answer me," he bucked his slender hips into yours, forcing you to catch yourself on the desk. You groaned. He had half the mind to fuck you right there, break in your pussy and leave you drooling over his desk. That would be easy. That was what you wanted.

"It's just sex."

“Are you dating him?”

“We don't do labels,” you said.

Miguel wracked your head back by your hair. A strangled moan slipped free from your lips, pleasure rushing to your cunt. You liked it. There were important details he had to know. Like-- if you used protection, or if you were safe when you weren't with him, or how you rid Hobie in raunchy pubs, and if you made out with Hobie until it was time to sleep. You know, important details.

“I do. I don’t share my women.”

“Yours? Fucking a woman ain’t keeping her, Miguel. You never asked me out on a date, put a ring on my finger, nada. It’s sex. Don't pretend like it's anything more."

"Is that all we are?"

"I've been fucking Hobie for months, Miguel. You want me to drop him-- for you? You don't even have time for me in the mornings."

His hand uncurled from your scalp, shoving you into the desk. He leaped off the platform, trudging somewhere, anywhere away from your body. He feared what he might do next if he kept hearing Hobie's damn name on your lips.

He could have done it-- let you have Hobie if you wanted Hobie so badly.

But it bothered him. Of all the women he could have had, he picked you. You were the only one he let grab him, shove him into hallways, suck him off under his desk, and be thankful for the strands of cum painting your nose and cheeks. You were the only one who slept with him at night.

Did Hobie need you the same way? Did he want you the same way Miguel did-- when he was inside of you, clambering over your body like a hungry beast, making you lay there and take him as he laid his brutal thrusts into your pussy. The way he battered your cunt, filled it up with his seed. Watched you heave heavy breaths-- because you were his to fuck and fill. The prospect of filling you up with his cum while Hobie was doing the same thing… ticked him off.

You were his, a territory that Hobie had no business entering. You had none allowing him to. Hobie didn’t claim ownership of anybody or anything at any time. It went against all he stood for. Miguel was inexorable. He wasn’t so bothered about the details. So long as the result was to his satisfaction.

“She’s at home, Miguel,” Lyla squeaked.

“Alone?”

“If you mean with Hobie,” she popped over his shoulder, sitting as if on a cloud in her fluffy jacket. His eyes rolled. “Then yes, he's there.”

"Show me."

"Nah, nah, nah, he's gassing you. How that man not know about us?"

You sat on your kitchen table, plopped with a hunk of pizza between your fingertips from the pizzeria below your house. Hobie's boots were thrown beside your mini-skirt. His chew was lazy and long. You sighed through it. You nipped the last bits of crust and grease off your fingertips.

"No sé. We never been a secret," you wiped off the rest of the grease between your thighs, ignoring the thought of your very first time with Hobie. But it was persistent, tickling the back of your mind, raging havoc on your unsettled heart.

White was your favorite shade. It was light, airy, like the sky. The sensation of falling through tufts of clouds. But it also made the consistent British rainstorms all the more irksome. The way water dribbled down your wet suit, your nipples perked as you rushed into his flat begging for something else to wear, Hobie's laughter dying out into that deep, low hum. His band shirt was ruined with the sticky stains of his cum.

"You thinking about it again?" Hobie read the way your eyes glazed over in an instant. His feet thumped onto the floor, swiveling in his chair and parting your legs. He leaned forward, his hands on either side of your tiny miniskirt. Your eyes tracked his gloved fingers peeking underneath your skirt. Not to pull down your thin panties, but caress small, consoling circles. "Yeah. You are. We just fucked. You're insatiable, wifey. You wet already? Want me again?"

"Hobie," you breathed. "What if he don't come tomorrow?"

"Then he don't," Hobie outstretched his finger, rubbing your soft chin to look up. "You don't need that wasteman."

"I got you?" you slid your fingers down to his slender palm, gliding over the tops of his knuckles. Hobie's lip pulled into a one-sided smirk, nodding to the side.

"Yeah, you got me."

By the time Hobie left, all thoughts of Miguel were non-existent. Mostly, because Hobie fucked you into exhaustion. You were out cold, strewn among fluffy sheets that wreaked of his musk of cigarettes and the sandalwood oil Pavitr gifted him. Hobie’s scent was here, there, everywhere it shouldn’t be as Miguel slunk into your slightly parted window.

Most offensively, Hobie’s cum was dripping out of your cunt. He suppressed the urge to roll his eyes. If you wanted him so badly all day, you easily replaced him with Hobie’s dick. He climbed the foot of the bed, watching your face twitch, almost trying to wake up from your sex-fueled haze.

“Mmm,” the small, ineffectual noise caused him to drift his eyes across your silky legs to your lips. There was a gentle pleasure in watching you sleep. He had seen it many times when he crept in the shadows when you were most beautiful. When you were half asleep, your hands draped among fluffy pillows. To be the first sight in the morning, and if possible, the last thing you thought of at night.

If he weren’t so angry with you, you would have been a vision for his sore eyes. His fingertips swerved up and down your inner thigh, curling around until he found your vulva, still swollen and wet from sex with Hobie. Miguel urged his thumb over your swollen clit, zig-zagging along to separate your folds.

As he suspected-- you had fucked him. Miguel urged the cum out of your system with a squeeze of your folds, rolling his fingers along the outer lips. His dilated eyes flickered up, catching a soft sigh in your chest. His fingers breached your wetness, easing the cum free from your body with small sweeps of his fingers.

“Mmm?” you breathed. His fingers slipped away, dragging your hips to his waiting mouth. Caked in the allure of sleep, your moan went without a response. Miguel’s pink tongue separated your folds, small mincing suckles coursing from your entrance to weave around your folds, deliberately avoiding your waiting clitoris.

"Who's it?" The pressure caused your lids to spread apart, lifting your hand from the lush silk pillow under your head to the top of his head. His tongue languidly coursed back down, poking at your entrance. The coziness of your sleep faded away. You dropped a hand to the top of his head to run through his thick dark brown hair, his sharp eyes flicking up to meet yours. Miguel could definitely have been a dream, but he wasn't.

“Miggy… I missed you,” you complained, reaching for the soft pink strawberry he won you once upon a time at a carnival. You had to beg, and beg, and blow his cock under his desk to get him to go. You looked so damn cute. Innocent. You were neither. “You should have come earlier--”

“To see you fuck Hobie?” he blew warm air against your cunt. Your hips shuttered against his face, thighs knocking his sharp cheekbones.

"You're still mad at me." This time, shame surely caught in your chest, a tremor of mean pleasure was minced with the pain of letting Miguel down. He knew it did. You wouldn't look him in the eye again but gripped the comforting strawberry a little harder.

“Considering you fucked him after we spoke, it’ll stay that way.” Miguel rose his hand to caress the outside folds as he worked, slurping the inner ones between his lips. You winced when his wet finger slid inside your hole. It squished obscenely, hungry and wet for his touch after such a tiresome day of longing.

“It’s-- it’s still sensitive.”

“I don’t care. You lied to me.” A brief glance at any watch would reveal that you’d barely slept at all. Miguel wouldn’t let you have rest, not if he could hold you accountable for your games with his heart and dick. His lush lips closed over your clit, flickering and sucking sloppily, drawing shocks of pleasure down your spine. You dug the heel of your palm into the sheets, struggling to slide out from under him. It was too much to wake up to after a fuck with Hobie who, from his files, apparently just loved to edge you.

"No, you don't. Come here." Miguel lurched his arm around your waist, dragging you back onto his face. Ah! Your hand shot to his forearm, battling out with his upper body strength to push him off. You couldn’t. Miguel was too strong. He was going to make you cum.

Pressure welled up in your stomach, forming a blinding burst of pleasure that threatened to let go. You knew it was coming. You knew there was nothing you could do about it but let him force another orgasm out of your cunt, twirling his fingers against your sensitive bundle of nerves. In place of a sweet, soothing orgasm, hard pleasure ripped down your spine. It nearly hurt, forced out by his flicking tongue. Your legs tremored around his head, cupping him in place until you couldn’t give him any more of your sweet love.

“Miguel, Miguel please--” Warm tears pricked your cheeks, sliding down to your jaw. He kept his eye on you. Your skin was warm, mind dizzy, wracked with his complaints. “I didn't mean to lie to you. I promise. You-- you never asked.”

“Shut up,” Miguel forced your hips off his face with a sharp shove. Your hips bounced on the bed, a broken cry slipping from your lips at his abuse. He came for one thing, one thing only, and fuck more foreplay. Somedays he had the temperament for it. Today, with your daring admission that you had been fucking Hobie, he had none. "I don't want more pretty lies."

"They aren't lies," you bit out, scrambling underneath him, legs tightening shut. You just needed a moment to explain-- and if holding sex back would do it, you'd try. Miguel pulled himself free of his suit and pulled you back into place. Overstimulated tears pricked your eyes, "Miggy please-- Not yet--"

He looked down at you, eyes unfeeling, unreceptive to your pleas. His cock bobbed over the top of your vulva, thick and hard, dribbling with anticipation to replace Hobie’s cum with his. You bit hard on your lower lip, sucking your tongue over the loose cuts. “If you would have asked--”

“Since you’re so insatiable, you’re going to take this dick next,” Miguel gave a few lax jerks at the base, lining up his cock with your tense entrance. He felt you clench your walls, some piteous attempt to keep him out, to allow you to explain.

“I'm still sensitive, Miggy, please. Slow down, you're too big--”

“Think about this next time you fuck that punk.”

Despite your protests, Miguel pushed the head of his cock into your entrance. A moan wracked free from your lips. He knew it was your favorite part, the way he split you wide on his cock, pulling your walls apart. He bottomed out balls deep in your cunt, finally looking so full-- so full of Miguel after a long, arduous day of teasing him for just this. Your hand came to your stomach, buried so deep you swore you could feel him in your guts. Your lashes fluttered, recognizing that this Miguel-- this Miguel wasn’t the man you knew. Not the one who was cold out there, patient in your bedroom. Something snapped. You cracked him.

“¡Ay!” you exclaimed, then clamped your mouth shut. He wasn't going to accept any complaints. Miguel’s hands clasped over your lower ribs, the slide of tears down your soft cheeks biting your skin raw. “Miggy, Miggy.”

“After all that teasing today, you can’t take my dick?”

“You’re too-- you’re too thick.”

“Tragedy, you’ll have to take me anyway,” he mocked, sliding his forearm underneath your head to keep you stable. Your skin prickled, wanting to believe the closeness he forced was as much for you as him. Your hands came to his chest, bundling up his suit between your fingertips. You needed something to anchor to. Your legs bobbed around his hips as he drew his smooth thrusts into you. Long, punctuated sweeps of his cock filled the deepest parts of your body over and over, stretching your sweet cunt full of him. “What? Am I not enough?”

“No, you are! I just, I love him--” your legs pathetically clung to his hips, trying to force Miguel’s full, sweeping thrusts to slow. Between the two men, you would be sore the next morning. Love him-- the words earned an intensity of his thrusts that you could only try to slow down by squeezing your walls around him. All this time he thought it was him, his inability to bend to your every need when you wanted it done. Your whines drifted off, melding into sweet, gentle moans of approval with every deep swipe of his hips knocking into your cervix. Wet, sloppy kisses marked your neck-- and if you weren't mistaken, the soft tickle of his own tears. The sensation of his liquid need, the hiss of his breath, bounced against your neck. “I’m sorry.”

“You’re going to be.” His other hand jammed between your legs, flicking at your already pulsing clit once again. It hurt how badly you needed it. You pulsed over his dick, a flurry of frantic perdóname slipping free from your lips over and over, a disc stuck on repeat. Miguel’s moans ripped through the room, the desire for air a secondary thought. You never heard him so loud, so enraged, even earlier today.

You came, wet and sweet over his swollen dick, for the second time since he showed up. A fourth since Hobie was here. You couldn't breathe, pinned between his chest and the bed. Your thighs tremored piteously around him, searing with pleasurable heat. You accepted his last frantic thrusts, marked by a sharp grunt. His wet cum spilled into you, hips snapping to your core to ensure you took every last bit of his seed. You buried your head between pillows and his fist under your neck, tightening and loosening. Your head was thumping, sweat cloaking his suit. When Miguel was finally spent, he pulled free, gloops of cum slipping free along with him. He threw you a look, recording the memory of your ruined body in his mind.

“Miguel--” you reached out. Or tried to. He jerked to the edge of your fluffy bed, his hands wrangling sweat out of his long hair.

“Let's stop seeing each other."

Seconds passed before you could articulate the right words, watching his chest rise and fall with the tension. He fit himself back into his suit, throwing a glance over his muscular shoulders when you cried his name. For a moment, you didn’t know what to say. Only…

“I… I didn’t know you would care.”

He steeled himself to your words from the gentle touch of your fingers on his elbow, trying to reason with him to lay in bed. He wouldn’t. Not this time. You crawled over, trying again. Realistically, you held little hope that he'd let you touch him. Not if he was banishing you from his life. Optimistically, all he could do was throw you off again. You considered yourself lucky that he allowed your arms to slide about his waist and press your breasts against his rising and falling back.

“I did.” But he acted as though he didn't. The words felt small as if they didn't fit in your mouth. He cared. Miguel ran his hand down, then up his head again, exhaling a wilting breath. "Mira… let me go," he sighed, loathing the words on his tongue. He wasn't enough. He knew he wasn't. "I'm in the way."

"In the way? Miguel, you're never in my way."

You couldn't be this dull. Miguel loosened your hands around his waist, glancing toward Hobie's miscellaneous shoes at the foot of your bed. Your intermingled jewelry in ceramic little pots. Maybe he did see it. Maybe he wanted to ignore it, to convince you he was enough. Maybe he was the one that appeared every time you two were alone, not the other way around. And maybe he was the interloper.

"In Hobie's way. You can’t believe that he isn’t jealous.”

“Hobie doesn’t get jealous.”

“You're blind. Everyone gets jealous,” he scoffed. “Even him.”

“Even you?”

That shuts him up. You watched as he pushed himself off the bed, stretching out his neck and heading out your bedroom window. This time, you wouldn’t follow him to the lab, slink into his bed. This time, you knew he wouldn’t come back. It was better, this way, your lives playing out apart from one another. Some lives can't be pieced back together once their web breaks.

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