#I had too much NyQuil

[dotlookstired]

Fuck Riverdale Fix it AU fanfic idea/rant!

I know this is going to sound like an angry tirade, and that’s because it is—but just hear me out, okay? I’m tired, sick, and I’ve had a lot of NyQuil.

First off, I want to say that I hate so many things about the show right now. I’ve got an idea for a fanfic, and I want to know if anyone’s interested. Basically, I’d disregard most of what happened after Betty came back home from being captured by TBK, and even some things before that—like what they did to Charles. Seriously, why? He was my favorite character! It was so unnecessary, and I plan on changing that.

Here’s the gist: Jughead would be asexual, and FP would move back in with Alice as soon as Jellybean goes off to college. The twins would get way more screen time, and the whole superpowers storyline wouldn’t happen—except for Cheryl’s witch stuff. I’m planning to add a lot of elements from The Chilling Adventures of Sabrina. (Side note: I never finished Chilling Adventures of Sabrina because I lost interest when they revealed she was part of some prophecy in that cave.)

Speaking of Sabrina, I think her cousin Ambrose would be a great boyfriend for Charles. I also kind of want to add some witch lore to the Jones bloodline, similar to the Blossoms. I don’t recall FP’s mother being mentioned, so I think she’d be a great way to introduce that storyline. FP’s relationship with Fred would also be explored more, as well as all the parents when they were younger.

Basically, I’d be changing everything people seem to complain about. Would anyone be interested?

[pingo1387]

what i want to know is what kind of cold meds are you guys taking that make you have visual hallucinations

[golden1u5t]

spencer reid m.list

❣︎- fluff ఌ- smut/suggestive ♡︎- angst

ఌ meeting the old friend | spencer brought you out to meet his old friend, ethan, but he deeply regrets it when ethan starts to flirt with you right in front of him. 

❣︎ is it that obvious? | you and spencer were closer than normal when showing up at rossi’s dinner party which causes for teasing from derek and a kiss at the end of the night.

ఌ working all day | spencer’s being a brat because you’ve been working all day, leaving you no choice but to fix his attitude for him. 

❣︎ periods and colds | being sick and on your period is never a easy thing. the symptoms that come with it are even worse but you're still determined to go to work and it's up to spencer to make sure you stay home and get taken care of.

♡︎ jj’s confession | the aftermath of jj’s fuck up.

ఌ sober enough | while out at a bar with the team the tension between you and spencer grew to be thicker until it was too much to stand. 

ఌ mean but he likes it | spencer finds that he likes it when your upset.

ఌ right here, right now | “you know, i could always get you off right here, right now”

ఌ untitled blurb | making spencer suck your strap before you fuck him.

ఌ worship you | spencer takes notice of how you react to being praised so he takes that information and runs with it. 

ఌ home remedy | spencer's a genius, he knows everything and one thing he's learned is that orgasms help with cramps.

ఌ early in the morning | spencer always wakes up before you and he usually takes time to himself to admire you. this morning is different though, he wakes up with the sudden need to bury his head between your thighs.

ఌ discovery | while being pinned down underneath you, spencer really can't think of anything other than filling you up with his cum.

ఌ one more | spencer's a munch. that's it. that's the summary.

ఌ change of plans | the arrangement you had with spencer, friends with benefits, quickly changes to more than that when he sees a cop flirting with you on the job.

ఌ book club | you can’t stop finding yourself in spencer’s bed, even after you’ve broken up.

❣︎ ఌ backwards | you and spencer never got along, with him just getting back from prison and you being the newbie, until you do and things start moving faster than expected. 

ఌ ruining him | basically just ruining spencer…

♡︎ ❣︎ ఌ addiction | spencer's working through his addiction and you hate to see him in pain. you was to try and take his mind off of things, even if it'll only last a little while.

❣︎ share the attention | having a new baby around means that majority of the attention goes to it. your daughter thinks that with all the attention your giving the baby you've forgotten about her, luckily spencer is there to explain to her that you both will never forget her.

ఌ substitution | after running out of candies to suck on, you and spencer find a different way to keep your mouth occupied.

ఌ gold chain | post-prison!spencer + gold chain + talking you through it. dangerous combination.

ఌ sativa | having sex with spencer but your both high 

ఌ date night | it’s supposed to be date night with just you and spencer but that quickly ended when a guy started to flirt with you. (including aaron hotchner)

ఌ hot tub |  after a long case you and spencer find yourselves wanting the same thing, to relax in the hotels hot tub, but the tension between you was so thick it led to doing more things than relaxing. 

ఌ I'm onto you | based on "haunted" by beyoncé

ఌ professor | you've always had eyes for your professor, always doing or wearing something that'll provoke him. one day you wear a particularly short skirt and spencer decides he can't take it anymore…

ఌ teacher of all things | spencer may be your professor but how to catch a serial killer isn't the only thing hes teaching you.

❣︎ incoming baby | you and spencer get into an argument over something as silly. while he's too busy being stubborn, you're busy going into labor.

ఌ nyquil | you fuck him so good he falls asleep immediately after you finish.

ఌ mile high | you're bored and teasing spencer seemed to be harmless and entertaining until he pops a boner, you take your chances with inviting him into the small bathroom to have a quickie.

ఌ touch starved | spencer was alone for so long before you got together and he's just so touch starved he gets hard just from looking at you, even if you had just got done having sex.

ఌ talk to me | making spencer talk to you while you jerk him off.

♡︎ mess it up | spencer hadn't been answering any of your phone calls and every time you showed up at his apartment he pretended he wasn't home. so, you go to his job, hoping to get a second chance with him. based on “mess it up” by gracie abrams 

ఌ that boy’s a munch | spencer’s a munch. that’s it.

♡ ❣︎ ︎ ఌ honeymoon | sex has always been a bad subject growing up, it was shunned upon to give into your bodies desires without being married or wanting kids. the abuse that came with this topic has caused you to hide away from it, you've never told spencer but when you do, he makes sure to make you as comfortable as he can.

❣︎ mirrorball | spencer notices how you put other people before you all the time so he decides to do something special for just you.

ఌ distract him | spencer looks amazing reading his book, his lip tucked between his teeth and his hands trailing across the page. you can't help but pull him onto your lap and distract him.

ఌ much better | pegging spencer when he gets home after a long case

ఌ a challenge | making spencer cum by just playing with his nipples 

ఌ playboy bunny | while being questioned in regards to a murder investigation, your only way of proving your innocence is the tattoo you have on your underboob.

ఌ shade of purple | spencer’s watching you paint your nails his favorite shade of purple and can’t help but let his mind wander. 

ఌ hidden freak | spencer's not very used to having to hide hickeys on his body and you had to leave before he had the chance to ask you how to hide it. doing the best he could, he threw on a shirt with a collar and hoped for the best.

♡︎ you're too sweet for me | spencer is your dad's best friend and you're fresh out of college. what happens when he's innocently picking you up from a night out with your friends turns into a heartbreak?

ఌ birthday boy | it’s spencer’s birthday and derek’s birthday gift to him is a trip to the strip club and private dance. 

ఌ next time just ask | you’ve had an attitude with spencer all day long, he finds the one thing that’ll make it go away

ఌ intelligence is attractive | spencers always had a crush on you but the way you show your intelligence does him in like nothing else. 

❣︎ hollywood star | you and spencer had been in the early stages of your relationship when lila archer came along(or her stalker to put it better). you already weren’t fond of her when she’d been giving spencer heart eyes the entire time but when gideon sent him to watch over her for the night, that really set you off. 

ఌ first timer | you’re taking spencer’s virginity and everything is just so much for him that he starts to cry. 

ఌ lingerie | you're showing spencer all the lingerie sets you got while out shopping with the girls and you knew he'd like them but you underestimated just how much he'd like them.

ఌ wait your turn | having two partners is great and very fun until you're stuck on the sidelines while they have all the fun. (including aaron hotchner)

ఌ he’s clueless | your boy is a genius but when it comes to sex, he's absolutely clueless.

ఌ patched up | spencer had gotten hurt while on a case and it was up to you to patch him back up, which wouldn’t have been an issue if the tension between you wasn’t so thick.

[its-mei-mei]

YOUNG MAN,

There's no need to feel down

I said YOUNG MAN,

Pick a bird off the ground

[netherfeildren]

Evermore

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader

Summary: Joel’s your older boyfriend who your parents had a hard time approving of, but you’re engaged now and spending your first Thanksgiving with your family, and well, it’s always fun doing things you know you shouldn’t do under the roof of your childhood home.

-OR-

The Thanksgiving AU

Rating: Explicit 18+

Content Warnings: No outbreak AU; Thanksgiving AU; Devoted Joel Miller; Established Relationship; Thanksgiving is the most boyfriend holiday and it needs to be discussed; Fucking in your childhood home shenanigans; Pretty soft and sweet; Needy behavior; Older man/Younger woman; Daddy kink; Size Difference; Unprotected PIV; Creampie; Breeding Kink; Oral sex; Fluff and Smut; Praise Kink; Come eating; PWP

A/N: Was thinking yesterday that Thanksgiving is the most boyfriendy holiday, and so this seemed entirely necessary after that epiphany. I’m sick as an old dog right now, and wrote this so quickly and just for fun. Any and all mistakes are property of my NyQuil induced high, apologies and enjoy and happy holidays :]

New Year’s Eve follow up

Word Count: 4.2K

Read on AO3

Ko-fi

“You’re doing so good.”

“You think so?”

“Yeah, baby. So, so good. It’s going so well.” You drag your nails slowly up the wide expanse of his strong back, feeling the divots and bumps of his spine, the thick padding of muscles that jump and shiver at your touch. He’d donned the nice green and red plaid button down you’d bought him for tonight, and he’s a little damp at the small of his back, giving away the nerves he’s trying to keep hidden from you, but you can tell anyways, sensed them as if they’d been your own fluttering within you. More attuned to another person than maybe is normal, perhaps, but you know this man, your man, your fiance now. You understand him. 

“You think he likes me?” And his voice goes a little gruff, sheepish, words lodging in his throat as he slowly soaps your mother’s special holiday china in the warm sink water. The two of you’d been relegated to clean up duty after you’d finished the beautiful Thanksgiving meal your mother had spent days readying in preparation for your first official visit with Joel as the man you’d soon marry. No longer just the older boyfriend who your father couldn’t stand to hear about, much less bear the sight of. And the come around had been slow going, undoubtedly, tireless work on yours and your mother’s parts trying to get him to relent, to accept the man who you’d chosen to spend the rest of your life with as a good man for his daughter. 

“Yes– yes. Absolutely. You made him laugh so many times. And he was so interested when you mentioned the house.”

You feel him suck in a shaky breath and move to wrap your arms around the strong breadth of his waist, resting your cheek against him, listening to the thud, thud of his beating heart. “Christ–” He gives a tremulous laugh that you follow suit warmly, palms splaying out over his belly. “He was, wasn’t he?” 

“So interested. Please, don’t worry anymore. My mom loves you, and dad’s on his way there too, I know he is, I promise.”

“He’s just protective,” he says, shutting off the water and pulling the plug on the drain. The both of you stand there in the silence together, listening to the little tornado of water suck away the remnants of the perfect dinner you’d just had with your parents and the man you were going to marry. It really had been perfect, and you’re telling him the truth when you say you really do think your father’s coming around. He’d been apprehensive at first, more than apprehensive, perhaps, with Joel being so much older than you, twenty years to be exact. And with a teenage daughter of his own, Sarah, who was spending the holiday with her mother. 

Your mother had always been the easy going one, and she’d taken one look at Joel, the dark, silver threaded curls, the thick shoulders and sparkly, hazel eyes, the too charming smile and had immediately understood. Your father had seen all those same things and seen nothing but trouble immediately deserving of mistrust. Things had been rocky for a time, but when Joel had gotten down on one knee and asked you to spend the rest of your life with him and Sarah, when he’d broken ground on the house he was building you with his bare hands from the dirt up out by the lake, well… your father hadn’t been able to withhold his approval for much longer after that was all said and done. 

“And for good reason,” he continues, reaching for the dish towel, drying off his hands before covering yours over his stomach with his wide palms, pulling your arms tighter around him. He brings one of your hands up to his face, cupping his own mouth with it to press a kiss to the tender cove. “The man should take me out back and drag me through the mud,” he mumbles, muffled into your skin, dragging his mouth slowly from side to side, tickling your palm with his whiskers. 

You press yourself harder against him, shoving him into the edge of the counter, dizzy with the feel of your heart beating so hard against your sternum it reverberates against the ribs in his back. “No, baby. Why? Never.” You press a kiss right over the slope of his spine. 

He gives a soft laugh at the feel of your wriggling against him, trying to find friction anywhere and anyway, not very inconspicuously rubbing your breasts against his back, and he turns slowly in the circle of your arms with that humming laugh still caught in his throat, bending slightly at the knees when he wraps his own arms around your waist to pull you up and into him so that your feet are left to dangle above his own heavy boots. He nuzzles at the warm, fragrant skin beneath the edge of your jaw, a small kiss to the tender spot behind your ear, where he whispers, “‘Cause all I could think about at the goddamn table, sittin’ next to your father, was how pretty your tits look in that dress you wore for me – how much I wish I could kiss that pretty pussy to sleep tonight.” 

You whine low, desperate, needy, wrapping your arms behind his neck to press his face tightly to your throat, breath hitching at the feel of his teeth, sharp at your pulse. “Joel–”

He shakes his head slowly, a long stream of sighing breath warm against your collarbone before he says, “I know– I know, baby. I’m telling ya– your father should kill me for the things I wanna do to his little girl. For the things I do to her already.”

The visit had so far been everything you could’ve wished for, and what you’d appreciated more than anything, more than your father’s very approval of your fiance, or your mother’s happiness for you, was that Joel had found the perfect balance between being respectful, ingratiating even, while still remaining uncowed by your father. Walking into your parents home with your hand in his, a deferential kiss to your mother’s cheek, and a strong, self assured handshake for your father while he’d handed him the bottle of his favorite fine aged whiskey and a demure, I’m glad we could make this work for our girl.

Our girl, he’d said, and it had made everything that lived inside of you with his name on it, everything that was perpetually soft and wet for him, go molten. You loved him. You belonged to him. And you’d chosen him for yourself, and he was sure as hell going to make sure everyone the two of you came across knew what that choice entailed, what it meant to him. Your father had been forced into capitulation, all with the whiskey and the self assurance in Joel’s eyes, your own unbridled elation, and your mother’s giggles and blushing smiles like every other woman who’s ever met this man, unable to resist the charm of that Southern twang and the too gorgeous smile, no other recourse had been left to your poor dad. 

You think of this as you make your way on silent tiptoes through your parent’s dark, quiet home. It had been the one concession you’d not garnered from your father, the sleeping arrangements. He’d absolutely refused to allow you and Joel to share a bed under his roof, no questions asked. And no matter how much you’d pleaded and your mother had cooed and cawed and threatened him, he’d not relented. At this point, you were worried he’d not let you sleep in the same bed as Joel even after the two of you’d been married. But what your father didn’t understand, what even you yourself barely understood sometimes was that you needed Joel. You need him. No one, no one except for Joel himself understood how desperately that ran inside of you. He understood you, he always has. 

You pause as you reach the closed door of his bedroom, splaying a palm against the fine grained wood to take a settling breath, your heart beating so fast you feel it in your throat, chock full of excitement, lust, desperate yearning. To have him here, in your childhood home, where you’d been a teenager, a girl, grown into a woman, you want him so, so badly, inside of you, around you, beneath you. You can never sleep without him anymore, no comfort to be found in the too small bed of your childhood – you turn the knob and slip inside. 

The blue darkness of the guest bedroom paints his form in shadows, big under the pretty quilt your mother has adorning the bed. You can see the heavy mass of his shoulder peeking from beneath the edge of the quilt, the ratty gray t-shirt you know has a faded longhorn stretched across the front; not able to sleep naked and wrapped only in you the way he usually does when under your parents roof. You turn the lock and step carefully on tipped toes, avoiding the creaky bits in the hardwood floor you’re so familiar with after a lifetime living in this house and lift the edge of the quilt to slip into the cocoon of warmth with him. Like a living furnace, you snake your arm over his flank slowly, enjoying the shiver and jerk of his muscles as you stroke him awake. Your palm, passing over thick ridged muscles and soft belly, digging beneath to feel the wispy scratch of hair there. 

He makes a deep sound, low in his chest, legs shifting as he comes to wakefulness, and then the gruff murmur of your name being whispered into the dark, his big, callused palm coming to wrap entirely around your fist beneath his t-shirt, keeping you from slipping it inside his sleep pants. “Baby, what’re you doin’?” He slurs, voice full of sleep and slow waking lust. 

You press your pelvis into his backside, hitching your knee up and over his hip to wrap yourself around him like vines. “I need you,” you mewl, baby voice trying to get ahead of his polite refusal before he’s able to get it out. He’d told you, before the two of you’d embarked on this weekend at your parents house, that there was to be no funny business on your part. As if he didn’t know that that was your favorite kind of business where he was concerned. You press a kiss above his scapula, then open your jaw to drag your teeth against the skin warmed cotton. You rub against him, clutching and pulling at his chest and stomach, biting and kissing as much of his back as you can reach, your foot somehow finding its way into his lap so that you can feel his quickly hardening cock against the sensitive arch of your foot. 

He groans roughly. “You’re gonna get us caught, sweet girl,” he tries to protest, but wraps his hand around the little foot in his lap anyways, pressing the arch of it into that half hard erection, rubbing against it. 

“I need you– I can’t sleep without you,” you whine, and he makes a frustrated sound, turning to face you, gripping your knee as he goes to open the cradle of your hips for himself, drawing your leg over his waist so that you’re suddenly chest to chest, sipping on each other’s warm breath. With a fist in your hair he gives you a hardly believable reprimand, little girl, and presses his lips briefly to yours, quick and damp, barely there, like he can’t help himself, like he knows that if he starts he won’t be able to stop, wandering hands already slipping up the hem of your nightgown, squeezing your panty clad ass. 

“Your parents…” he tries again, the roll of his hips against yours, coupled with a hitched whine, making his objections a little laughable.

“Don’t you miss me? Don’t you love me? Don’t you want me here with you?”

“Of course– of course I do–” You twist your fingers in his curls, the first real press of your mouths, his damp upper lip slotting between both of yours so that you can give it a little suck. Then the tip of his tongue touching yours, and you’re opening all the way for him, moaning wantonly into his mouth, letting him lick and taste behind the line of your teeth. “‘Course I want you here, baby.”

“I’ll be good. I’ll be quiet,” you promise. “Please, please, Joel. Please, just–” The hand squeezing your ass slides between your legs, finds the damp plaquet of panties. Fuckin’ soaked already, needy girl. “Please, just fuck me. I’ll be so quiet, I promise.”

“Baby…”

Please, please, please. He’s always had something about him that turns you into nothing more than a wet little girl desperate for the big, big man’s attention. The impropriety of your surroundings has no bearing on this, the desperation is as present as ever, heightened even, maybe, because of the wrongness of it, because you could be caught red handed at any second if you’re not careful, not quiet enough. 

“‘Course I love you so fuckin’ much. You even need to ask?” He rubs the flat of his palm over your pussy, the tip of his middle finger finding the nub of your clit covered by the soaked wet silk to press lightly on each pass forward.

“No, Daddy. I know,” you breathe soft and secret into his mouth, watch the slight widening of his eyes as you say it. You can picture the flush suffusing his cheeks at hearing you call him so, know the effect the sound of it has on him. 

“Fucking Christ,” he murmurs, pulling you tighter against him, tilting your head back by the grip he has on your hair so that he can deepen his kiss, taste you more thoroughly. “Better be quiet while I fuck you.” He pulls back, mock frown and a note of reprimand in his voice as his fingers dip beneath the silk of your panties to find the wet, swollen mess of you already. He moans into your open mouth, your name and I love you and wet fuckin’ pussy as he starts to pet at you slowly. His fingers swirling at your clit and then moving to your opening, dipping inside just a tiny bit, giving you almost nothing, forcing a frustrated whine up your throat. “I said quiet.”

“Please, Daddy. Please,” you beg, but he returns to your clit, ignoring your whining, pinching the bundle of nerves lightly before he’s back to teasing the mouth of your cunt, dipping the tip of a single finger in shallowly to pull your wetness from you and spread it over your mound, slicking you up for him. 

“We’re gonna go nice and slow. Gonna take my pretty cunt nice and slow, and you’re gonna be good for me, aren’t you? Gonna be quiet – not get us caught, right? Say yes.”

“Yes, Daddy,” you whisper, pressing kisses all along his face and jaw and throat, needy fingers twisting in his curls, scratching at the back of his neck and the hills of his shoulders. He make an approving groan of a sound, rolling the two of you over so that you’re on your back, splayed out beneath him, and he pulls the vee of your nightgown down, bearing your breasts to him, sucking on each nipple, first hard then soft, then with teeth and tongue, slicking you in his spit, and you try and stay quiet, you really, really do, but it’s so hard not to cry out at the sight of his jaw hinging wide, seemingly trying to take the whole heavy weight of your breast into his mouth in one go. 

He always has you like he wants you more than anything else in the whole world, like he’s never wanted anything else in his whole life more than he wants you, and nothing feels better than that, nothing makes you crazier for him than the way he wants you so desperately. 

He makes his way down the length of you with kisses to your breasts, your ribs, your belly, the mound of your pelvic bone, before he’s gathering your knees together and bending them to press against your chest, pulling the lace and silk of your panties over the curve of your bottom and diving nose first into your wet cunt, taking in a deep drag of your scent and then dragging the broad, flat of his tongue from your asshole to your clit in one long, slow swipe. The groan he ends on has you almost coming on his tongue just like that, the sound so hungry it would scare someone who doesn’t want to be wanted as badly by this man as you do. And he eats your cunt like he’s angry, like he’s in love with you, like he doesn’t care if you get caught or not. Tongue plunging into your pussy, sucking on your clit, shaking his head, quick and hard, from side to side so that the obscene sound of your wetness against his mouth is all you can hear over the cacophony sounding in your ears right before you gush for him all wet and sweet and sticky, covering his tongue and beard. His lips wrap around your swollen clit again while it still pulses for him, and you have to shove your fist into your mouth, drooling around it to stifle the sound of your cries for his cock while he sucks you into a second painfully fluttery orgasm, your womb cramping hard and tight around nothing, your cunt clutching desperately at air for the cock it’s about to gladly take. The hum of his movements, of his whines and moans, don’t match his promise for nice and slow. They tell you this is going to be hard and deep and might even hurt, and that you’ll like it all the more for that. This is, after all, what you’d snuck in here for, just exactly this. 

He pulls away from your cunt with a loud, wet suck, popping your clit from his puckered mouth like a piece of too ripe, too sweet fruit, before crawling up the length of you, pulling your soaked panties and your nightgown from your body as he goes, shucking his own sweat soaked shirt over his head and kicking his pajama bottoms away. When he takes your mouth again, his face and beard are wet and sticky with your slick, all sweet sugared musk and the angry thrust of his tongue, his fingers, too hard and too tight wrapping around your jaw, grunting into your mouth as he sucks on your tongue. His burning hot cock thrusts between your wet cleft, the sound of your leaking pussy loud enough to be heard over the sound of your mingled panting breaths. You feel him grip himself, stroking once, twice, wide, blunt head bumping against slick soaked skin, before he’s notching at your cunt and shoving in, hard and fast. Not giving you a chance to think about it before he’s bumping at the mouth of your womb, a muted bruise you never tire of; his too big cock that still pinches every time, that presses in just on this side of too deep to always be comfortable, but you don’t care. The proof is in the hurt, and you need constant reminding that he’s real, that this is real. It’s your greatest pleasure, after all, the reassurance of him, of the two of you, and he never tires of giving it to you. You know that giving you the things you need and want from him, turns Joel on more than anything else.

He groans long and low into the crook of your shoulder when he bottoms out and holds there for several drawn out moments, both of you enjoying the pulse and throb of your connection. He’s so deep and you’re so wet for him, taking him so, so well, like he always tells you that you do. You’d felt, from the first moment that you’d laid eyes on him, like you’d been made for him. Put on this earth just for him to find and keep, and doing this, having each other like this, even after all the times you’ve done it, always feels like further proof of it. He grinds against you, hips shifting from side to side, tip bumping against the deepest part of you, before he’s clutching at your ass and flipping the both of you over suddenly, cock never slipping from your tight clutch when he settles you on top of him, buried to the hilt. You feel him in your stomach like this, and you tell him so, little hand coming to rest low on your belly where you’re holding him inside of you, pressing down so that the both of you can feel your connection from the inside out, groaning in tandem all wide and sparkly eyed as you look at each other. And he’s nodding his head at you as you start to shift your hips slowly, feeling the wet slide of his length, the grind of your clit against his pelvis, one hand pressing down on your belly, the other anchoring yourself on his own stomach so that you can rock yourself on him. 

He pulls one of your knees up, resting your foot flat on the bed to open you to his gaze, so that he can watch the way the thick root of his cock splits your cunt open for him to fuck up into. The two of you find your rhythm, you rolling your hips down on his upthrust, and he’s still nodding his head at you, mouthing words made of only air at you while you gasp and gulp for breath, I love you and you’re so pretty and yeah, ride that cock, baby. All you can do in return is mumble his name at him over and over again, Joel, Joel, Joel, nonsensical. Your brain doesn't work when he’s got his cock wedged this deep inside of you, it just doesn’t.

There's sweat pooling in the divots of his collarbones, the sun grizzled notch of his throat, and you fold over forward, changing the angle, deepening it, to lick up those little pools of salt, sucking on his neck until he’ll surely have incriminating bruises tomorrow. You don’t care, not even a little bit. He’s so yours in this moment, always really, but right now, Joel feels so, so incredibly yours, and you love him so much, and he’s going to be your husband one day soon and nothing else really matters besides that. 

He wraps both arms around your back, squeezes you to himself tight and starts to fuck up into you, fast, brutal, again, nothing nice and slow about it like he’d promised, and you’re forced to dig your teeth into his shoulder so hard you’re scared for a moment you’ll taste blood on your tongue. You can feel your orgasm crawling up your spine, pooling like liquid heat in your pelvis while everything goes tight and fluttery inside of you. “How mad would he be if I knocked you up right now? If I fucked his baby girl full’a my baby under his roof?” He grunts into your ear, and there’s the dip in your restraint. As much as you want to hold off and wait for him, you clench down hard around him with a sharp cry, mouthful of his skin to muffle you only barely. “Huh? What’dya think he’d say?” He continues, changing the angle so that his pelvis bumps against your clit on every punch in, balls slapping wetly against the curve of your ass while he pets at the tight ring of muscle back there, tempting you with more than you think you can take right now. “If you go all pretty and round and soft for me before our wedding.” 

You can't speak, you’re nothing but air and sticky, sweet wet in the shape of a girl made just for him. Too tight grip in your hair, and he’s jerking your face towards him, grunting into your mouth as he starts to spill inside of you, burning hot come milked out of his cock and deep into you, and he tells you again how much he loves you, tells you that you’re his pretty little wife because it’s already felt like that for so long. A marrying of your very selves despite the lack of legal nothing that means so little to the both of you when you have all this between you already. Tells you that he can’t wait to see his baby all full of his baby. 

When he’s finished pumping you filled to the brim he turns you over again, pulls out slowly so that the both of you can appreciate the sound of his heavy cock slipping wetly from your well used pussy, and when he bends to eat your mingled come out of your puffy cunt, only to then wedge your mouth open so that he can spit your fluids onto your waiting tongue, all here, taste how good we are, the only words left when it comes to this man and this thing you have between the two of you is always simply thank you. 

New Year’s Eve follow up

Netherfeildren's Masterlist

Updates Blog!

[gloxk]

just sitting here high asf thinking about getting the sloppiest head from aot guyzzz…*HEAVY ASS SIGH* let me wish upon a star hoping someone could write about this for me…*LONG HEAVY EXTREME SIGH.*

⁺ 　 . ✦ Favorite eaters ⁺ 　 . ✦

(Eren Y. Armin A. Connie S.)

A/N: ugh yes girl ik the feeling … im to sitting here wondering how nasty eren would eat the kitty…BUT ANYWAYS TYSM FOR 600!!! NEXT STOP 700!!! AHHH!

Synopsis: Aot men as your favorite eater.

━━━━━━━⚥━━━━━━━

♡ Eren ♡

Ughh omg..Eren giving you nasty head after he pissed you off…The type of head that makes you run away in shame!!!

“Givin me an attitude ain’t gonna get you anywhere, you know better den that.” Eren scoffed, while tossing a blunt over to you.

Oh boy how he was so undeniably wrong.

You could tell Eren was unamused with your bullshit. He wasn’t taking you ignoring lightly at all.

“You gon fix it or am I, figure it out.” he whispered in your ear. You stood on what you dished out, you weren’t fixing shit.

You chuckled at him in response, how stupid he was to think you were going to pipe down.

That was until he found his way between your thighs..

One hand tangled in his brown locs and the other one holding a blunt. Best combo..

You lazily rutted against his tongue while his piercing twirled against your puffy clit.

It was so hard to look him in the eyes after he made you cum on his tongue 3 times.

“Still got an attitude baby?”

Let’s just say..you ain’t had one after that.

♡ Armin ♡

Oh..lawd. I said this once i’ll say it A FUCKING AGAIN. Armin is a pussy eater expert. He’s VERY talented in that ‘field’..

This man has no problem eating it for breakfast, lunch, or dinner. Hell, he will wake up and decide he’s hungry and start going crazy.

That’s how your morning starts..with Armin stuck between your thighs eating it so you can wake up.

Eyes barely opened and you’re already on the verge of cumming..his way of saying ‘goodmorning’.

He so eager to do it too. Sometimes yall could just be watching netflix and he will insist on eating you out.

“Well, I mean, the show is kind of boring. Just come on, it will be quick.” He’ll beg and beg, “Please, I know you’re tired, I can help you go to sleep faster!”

His contact name is NyQuil in yo phone! (If you know. you know .)

When he say fast..oh baby he mean fast. That tongue can move at speeds you didn’t even know existed.

But his favorite time to get to munching is before you go to work.

“We got 10 minutes Armin.” He don’t need even need 10 he will make you cum in 5.

♡ Connie ♡

Ex! Connie getting fucking wasted and coming back home and eating you till your cummin everywhere…

I just know he eats it with his grillz on..I just know.

You want nasty head? Connie is your man for it. He gonna make it SLOPPY SLOPPY.

“Baby whatchu mean, we supposed to be in love..” his words slightly slur, he had a fuck boy grin plastered over his face. “stop acting like you ain’t happy to see me.”

He wasn’t supposed to be there and he knew that. But you couldn’t stay mad at him for long, especially when he was telling you how much he missed you. “Cmere baby i’ve been missin you..” & “I know you mad at me lemme change that.”

if ‘Let my face be yo chair’ was a person…

Sitting on his face is a pleasure to you and him. He gets to see his (ex) girlfriend and you get some head.

A win win in your books!

You grinding against his golden grills while his hands rub your waist up and down. “You got such pretty moans, lemme hear em baby.” & “Uh-huh, let it out mama.”

He’s looking you dead in your eyes while doing it too…

“You made such a mess baby. Don’t worry go to sleep, ima clean it up.” UGH THIS MAN….

best ex ever!

━━━━━━━⚥━━━━━━━

going absolute feral for these men it don’t even make any sense.

[hotchner-edu]

Hi! I saw you take requests and I love the way you write Aaron— the runner's stamina drabble was just *chef's kiss*. I was wondering if you could write a fluffy one shot where reader falls asleep on Hotch's shoulder while on the jet ride home from a case, and he secretly kinda thinks it's adorable even though the rest of the team teases him about it? :')

Sleepy Days (Drabble) | Aaron Hotchner

A small frown tugs at your lips as you rest your eyes for a second, feeling the alluring arms of sleep wrapping themselves around you. All the noise in the jet seems to drift further and further away as you are enveloped in darkness, nestled in the comfort that slumber was tempting you with.

You've been nodding off for well over ten minutes now, head tipping forward toward the table like an unrestrained bowling ball, catching the keen attention of your unit chief.

Aaron was sitting in the chair beside yours, having noticed your fatigue since the jet took off. He made a note to slide away the open book in front of you to mark the page, knowing you'd be annoyed with yourself if you lost your spot while falling asleep.

You were on the brink of completely slipping off the edge of consciousness now, and you could only curse your own inattentiveness for your predicament. The team's latest case had them flying out to Las Vegas, but instead of ending on a high note with popping bottles and slot machines, you ended up catching a small cold while surrounded by plumes of cigarette smoke.

It was to your luck that JJ always carried around medicine and first-aid supplies in her go-bag. Unluckily, you had grabbed a deceivingly orange bottle of cough syrup from her bag thinking it was DayQuil, not realizing it was honey-flavored NyQuil until it was already too late.

As you succumb to your sleepiness, the last thing trailing across your mind is the absolute pain you're going to have in your neck when you wake up.

Aaron can tell that you're no longer awake anymore from the way your shoulders completely sag down, and how your face melts into a relaxed expression�� one that he can't help but steal another glance at. He leans over to insert your bookmark into your book, eyebrows jumping up in surprise when he feels your head tilting and falling onto his shoulder.

A hint of a smile crawls onto his face at the feeling of you leaning against him, and he has to ignore the heat creeping up his neck as he subtly scoots closer to you to let you rest easier on him.

The words on the file in front of him start to meld together as he isn't able to draw his focus away from the feeling of your warm body beside his.

"Hotch." Derek's voice grabs his attention, the other man's sharp whisper tinged with a bit of amusement. "You're a softy at heart, huh? C'mon, admit it."

Aaron raises an eyebrow and frowns at him, shaking his head. "You'd do the same."

Derek shrugs at that, still smiling as he puts his headphones back on. To Aaron's misfortune, the small exchange caught the attention of the rest of the team, and while Spencer is polite enough to just smile softly and continue playing chess with himself, the others are immediately smirking at him.

"Want me to take a picture?" Dave teases him quietly, barely suppressing a chuckle as he looks at you both fondly. "Who knows when it'll happen again."

"Yeah, I'll bet the mortification will be too much." Emily jokes softly, glancing at your slumped figure with a grin. Aaron knew she was right about that, he knew you'd be a bit embarrassed about falling asleep on your boss, and would probably be conscious about distance going forward.

JJ shakes her head and stirs her tea, chiming in with a lingering smile. "Let's not say anything about this. I already feel guilty about the whole NyQuil thing."

"Yeah, JJ, why honey?" Emily mumbles with a small snort, directing her attention to her blonde friend as they begin to engage in hushed conversation.

Dave snaps a photo of you and Aaron with a proud smile, probably already thinking of sticking it in his secret scrapbook.

"Dave." Aaron warns the older man with no actual heat. He puts his hands up and backs off with a smile, looking down to his phone again and typing on it.

Aaron has to suppress the small smile threatening to appear on his face, grateful for his team's high spirits despite their teasing. He looks back down to your peaceful face, unable to stop his eyes from tracing around your delicate features.

He's only drawn away from his gazing when his phone buzzes in his pocket. Drawing the device out from his suit pocket, he looks down at the notifications with an unimpressed frown.

Dave: *sent 1 photo*

Dave: stop drawing it out and just go get dinner together.

[chillinglyadventurous]

The Fever

Thank you so much for the request!!!

Stanford Pines x Reader

Tags: Fluff, sick

It started out with a sneeze. You didn’t think much of it. You’d been trudging through the rain with Dipper and Mabel in search of a scampfire just to prove to your boyfriend you could find one without his help. Ford had told you it wasn’t going to happen. The weather conditions weren’t right. It was about to rain and unseasonably cold for mid August.

How the kids didn’t get sick was beyond you because you felt like death. You were freezing and shaking, but hot and sweaty all at once. You couldn’t decide whether you were more comfortable in your sweatpants and one of Ford’s sweaters that you had stolen from his closet or in barely anything at all. You couldn’t tell whether the heat or the cold was worse.

Had it not been for Stan’s big mouth, Ford wouldn’t have even known you were sick. Besides the occasional sniffle, you looked okay-ish. No. You looked like hell, but makeup helped hide it. “Geez, [Y/N], quit coughin’ or you’ll get the whole house sick!”

Ford’s head had snapped in your direction, finally taking a good look at you. He’d been busy, usually only climbing into your shared bed after you had knocked yourself out cold with a shot of NyQuil syrup. “Why didn’t you tell me you were sick? I would have dropped every-“

“I’m fine,” you insisted only to be betrayed by a slurry of hacking. You resigned under his intense gaze. “Fine, I’m sick. It’s not a big deal. I just have a cold. I’ll be fine.”

Without another word, Ford’s large hand was placed to your forehead to gauge your temperature. First his palm, then the back of his hand. He moved to your flushed cheeks, bright red visible beneath the makeup you had tried to conceal it with.

Ford gave you a disappointed look, “You have a fever of 102! You most certainly are not ‘fine’, darling.”

He pulled you out of your chair only for Stan to call out as you followed Ford to your bedroom. “Yeah, get Patient 0 out of my kitchen!”

Quickly, Ford had you in his bed, stripped of your day clothes and into one his sweaters. His flannel pajama pants were on you soon after. On his bed, he slipped three pairs of socks onto your feet and bundled you up in every blanket he could get his hands on.

“You need to sweat it out,” he ordered as he tucked the blankets around your form. You were successfully burrito-d. “Once your fever breaks, the worst is over.”

You had expected him to be a bit more wary around, very cautious of whatever germs you could give him, but he kissed your forehead before leaving you in his room. After a single minute, you were bored. You tried to stand, but he had tucked you in too tightly. The most you could do was sit up, barely able to reach the book on his bedside table.

You groaned in disgust as you read the title. Statically Accurate Knowledge. With nothing better to do, you opened it only to be further disappointed. The book in your hands, all 472 pages of it, was just a run-on equation. Nerd.

Just as you were resigned yourself to counting the floorboards, Ford reappeared with a hot cup of tea. “Drink this. It should right you in a second.” He laughed as you timidly sniffed at the liquid he had given you. Of course it wasn’t chamomile or some pleasant flavor. “It’s best if you don’t smell it.”

“What is it?” You asked, voice scratchy as you spoke.

He pet over your hair which was already damp. Your shivers had mildly subsided, but he could still see your teeth trying to chatter. “Well, it will make you tired. You’ll sleep whatever is plaguing you off.”

You were already exhausted, but you held your breath and downed the steaming liquid. Your body instantly relaxed. You felt warm, so comfortably warm. Then, drowsiness overcame you.

Ford laid you down again. Before he could leave you? You grabbed the sleeve of his sweater. His eyes were kind as they landed on you. “Stay with me?” You whispered, your eyelids so, so heavy.

“Certainly.”

With the blankets curled around you, acting as a barrier, Ford held you close. He tucked your head beneath his chin as you dozed off. You hoped you’d feel better in the morning, but, maybe, you’d play this up for a little longer once you were feeling better. You loved when he took care of you.

[reiderwriter]

The Lightbulb Moment

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Genre: Fluff but a little bit suggestive at the end.

Summary: You want Spencer all to yourself for the first few months of your relationship and he's only too happy to comply. Unfortunately, you're two dumbasses who can't keep their hands off one another.

Word Count: 4.8k (I love idiots in love...)

Warnings: secret relationship, mentions of hickeys, kissing and heavy petting but no actual smut (a little suggestive and fade to black). Minor character is a misogynist prick and gets his nose broken, though.

A/N: I need everyone to know that this is absolutely inspired by the very first episode of OHSHC. I don't think I will elaborate further. This is also my first fluff, so if you want to see more like this my requests are open!~

My Masterlist✨

Walking into the BAU’s Quantico offices was a simple part of your daily schedule. You usually drove your car from your house to the parking complex, took the elevator up to your floor, put your bag down on your desk and moved immediately to the office kitchen to make yourself an appropriately large mug of coffee. Today, however, you drove your car from Spencer’s apartment, after quite the pleasant night together. The two of you had agreed weeks before to keep your relationship as private as you could.

Which meant that you were now in the office, trying your best to hide both your hickeys and your micro-expressions in a room that was about to fill up with extremely observant FBI profilers.

The turtle-neck sweater was a classic but effective aid, and when paired with the piping hot mug of coffee you were making yourself, you were hoping to feign an oncoming cold of some kind to escape any scrutiny. Spencer had left an hour earlier than you, knowing that it took him longer to commute alone on the metro than it took you in your car, which was probably the best thing for the two of you right now, as after last night, you wanted the whole undivided attention of his hands and his mouth on you.

Taking one last deep breath you walked into the office, and were greeted by the sight of two more new arrivals, your beautiful boyfriend and SSA Derek Morgan. Thankfully, the marks you’d left on Spencer's back the night before were easy to hide under his usual sweater-vest-shirt combo, as he'd probably have a harder time explaining those away. You wrapped your work blazer a little tighter around you and made your way to your desk.

“That’s a big cup of coffee you got there, angel. You have a long night?” Morgan says as you sit down in your seat, trying your best to look at anything but Spencer.

“A long night with a bottle of nyquil and three layers of blankets, if that’s what you mean, yeah.” You shoot back, praying he takes the bait.

“Aww, that sucks sweet-pea. If you need anything, let our resident Doctor know, I’m sure he’ll do his best to make sure you're in peak physical condition once again.” Morgan mocks the younger male, before walking off to his desk.

You happen a glance over at Spencer, and he’s sporting the cutest little blush you’ve ever seen, not needing to hide his embarrassment at the insinuations of his friend.

The two of you share a quick glance, but don’t have to say much else when Hotch walks out of his office announcing there’s another case.

“Meeting room in ten, wheels up immediately after, we've got a serial in Washington State that requires our attention.”

You sigh in relief knowing that a case will be a great way to distract you from somehow messing this up and you grab your stuff and head to the meeting room. Before you can get there though, Rossi cuts you off at the door.

“A word of advice, if I may,” he says, letting your other team members pass in front of him on their way into the briefing before grabbing your attention.

“Sure, why not?” You reply, curious about what the man has to say.

“I’ve never heard of a cold that causes bruising behind your ear. I’d suggest you take yourself and your make-up bag to the bathroom to cover that up.”

You feel yourself grow hot. You’d thought you’d got them all covered with the turtleneck but you had a limited range of vision. Cursing under your breath, you tried to explain to your senior coworker but again he cut off before you could.

“No, I’m not gonna say anything else. Just tell the kid to keep it classy next time, if your gonna wine and dine a lady, you don’t need to make her neck dessert.” You blanched now, all of your previous redness running out of your body.

“You know?”

“I’m very good at my job. However, whatever this is is none of my business, so please, don’t make it my business again any time soon, okay?”

“Yes, thank you. I’ll just go down now. Could you-” you gestured vaguely to the meeting room where all your close coworkers were taking their seats, and the older man smiled back at you.

“Consider it done.” You thanked your lucky stars that it was Rossi who had spotted it first, and made a mental note to send Spencer a quick message before you got on the jet.

Y/N: Busted by Rossi. Next time, don’t go full vampire on me. Okay Doc? That was like getting the talk from my dad, but somehow worse.

–X–

After a week in Washington, you wrapped up your case fairly quickly. The flight was long, so you were very much looking forward to finishing the documentation for the case and heading back to your apartment for some much needed alone time with Reid.

The entire week you’d been in the field interviewing witnesses and suspects, and he’d been stuck inside making geographical profiles and aiding Garcia with undigitized file information. It hadn’t helped things that you’d ended up stuck sharing rooms, you with Emily and JJ in one room and him sharing with Hotch, of all people, so you couldn't even sneak out at night to meet each other without arousing suspicion.

It had taken all of your strength not to climb onto the long bench next to him on the Jet and just melt into him, letting the long journey ahead lull you into some much needed sleep. You forced yourself to the other end of the jet, picking up a blanket you’d stored there previously and forcing yourself to shut your eyes.

When you landed, you practically launched yourself off the plane, so eager to get back to your car and drive all the way to your house. But fate had other ideas.

“Everyone, take the rest of the day off, but I want to see you bright and early monday morning working on the required paperwork. Reid, Y/L/N, can you stick around for an extra ten minutes? I just have some supplementary questions I need to ask you.” Hotch announced to the team and you felt your freedom escaping from you once again.

You made it calmly to Hotch’s office, following both your boss and your boyfriend, unsure of where this conversation was going to go.

You sat down on the sofa, and watched as Hotch pulled out two sets of documents.

“I’m not asking questions, and frankly I don’t want to know. But this is standard for all workplace relationships, so I need you to fill out these forms and submit them back to me ASAP.” He said the words calmly, but you felt the panic rise in your chest.

“Did Rossi say something to you?” Spencer managed to recover quicker than you could, neither confirming nor denying your entanglement to your boss.

“No, actually…” Hotch seemed to hesitate for a moment, unsure of whether to continue or not. “You talk in your sleep, Reid. You talk quite loudly in your sleep.”

Your head snapped up to your boyfriend and you came face to face with a look of mortification. You heard him mumble a curse under his breath, before he grabbed the papers from Hotch, handing you one quickly.

You filled them out in silence as quickly as possible, trying to not let the blush on your face deepen, and entirely grateful that Hotch was busy ignoring that the conversation had ever happened now, back at his desk filling out his own paperwork.

Spencer grabbed your papers from you when you were finished, put them together with his silently on the older man’s desk, grabbed your hand and swiftly walked you out of the office.

“Fuck, I’m so sorry Y/N, I’m used to sharing the room with Morgan and you know he sleeps like the dead.” He apologised, but the look on his face was so cute, you couldn’t help but tease him.

“I’ll forgive you on one condition,” you smirk up at him. “You have got to tell me exactly what that dream was about. I'm very curious”

–X–

After both Rossi and Hotchner had guessed at the nature of your relationship within the space of a week, you were a bit on edge around the office. But a month of busy cases (and thankfully no more room sharing incidents) had restored your confidence in your lying capabilities. You almost felt guilty now, hiding the best part of your life from some of the most important people in your life. But you chose to keep being selfish, knowing that the side of Spencer that you were witnessing now was yours and yours alone.

Basically, you grew over-confident, and when you grew over-confident, you grew sloppy.

After coming back from a particularly rewarding case, a stalking case that you managed to solve before the unsub could turn from attempted murderer to murderer, you went out to celebrate with the team. Hotch and Rossi had begged off again, and Morgan had excused himself because he was giving a self-defence talk the next day at Quantico and didn’t want to show up still suffering from the night before.

So, at the behest of Emily and Garcia, you found Reid was swiftly uninvited, and the team celebration turned into a Girls’ Night Out. It had been a while since you’d been able to let loose, having spent practically every weekend between yours and Reid’s apartments, so you were determined to make the most of the night.

You blame Garcia really. JJ had survived two rounds, but had retreated back to her husband and child when she saw the drinking getting out of hand. Emily had been on virgin drinks the entire night, because she’d drawn the short straw and ended up the designated driver.

Which left you and the wonderful Penelope Garcia going toe-to-toe, or more realistically, tequila-to-tequila as you not so healthily egged each other on. By 1am, Emily had to make the executive decision to put Garcia in a taxi, knowing she would at least be able to function on her own, whilst you were sat like a little mess in the other woman’s arms.

“Emillleeeee!” You giggled as the brunette helped you into her car. “You’re sooooo strong, Emileeeeeeeeee. I love you, y'know.”

“Yeah, Y/N. I gathered that the last time you told me.” She laughed back at you, knowing that she was going to absolutely let you know everything that was said and done that night in the morning.

“Wanna know whoz also realllllllly strong?” You giggled and slapped your hands over your mouth like a schoolgirl talking about her crush.

“Oh, yeah? Go ahead and tell me.”

“Ssspencer,” you said his name and your entire face flushed, “Spencie is really strong.”

Emily rolled her eyes at you, assuming for the time being that you were too drunk to understand what you were saying.

But her reaction obviously didn’t satisfy your drunk self enough, because you pouted a little and then continued.

“Sss true! He’s so strong when he lifts me up and holds me against the wall, it’s so fuckin gooood, Emilleeeeee.”

“Y/N! You're talking about Reid here, I doubt the boy could even hold a girl's hand without breaking a sweat. Let's go get you to bed." She shot back in disbelief.

“You don’t believe me? He is strong, look I can show you the bruises he left on my hips the last time we-”

“OH MY GOD, please stop talking.” Emily cut you off before she heard something she really didn’t want to hear. Still half in disbelief, thinking you were just so far into your cups you’d reached the horny level of alcoholism, she pulled into your apartment complex and quickly helped you out of the car.

“Emilleeeee, don’t leave me!!” You giggled out as she practically frog-marched you to your front door, having commandeered your keys earlier. Before she had the chance to use them however, the door was swinging open, and there was Spencer, in the door, realising he’d just made a huge mistake.

"Would you believe me if I said I were explicitly for work purposes?" He stuttered hopefully, seeing the shell-shocked look on his coworkers face.

“Oh god, she wasn’t lying, was she?” Emily managed to eke out in horror, the thought of the man who was practically her little brother doing anything sexual with anyone sending shivers down her spine.

He didn’t have to reply, however, because you chose that exact moment to launch yourself at your boyfriend wrapping your legs around his waist as he did his best not to tumble over, as your mouth started working its way down his throat.

“Shit,” he grunted out, still unsure about how to handle the situation. “Emily, let’s just pretend you never saw this, deal?”

“Yeah, okay, I think I can do that.” She turned away swiftly, but turned back to add on one final statement, looking almost impressed.

“You know I really didn’t think you were strong enough to do all of that. Huh, wonders abound.”

–X–

Your devastating hangover the next day saved you from the embarrassment of reliving the more scandalous details of your Girls’ Night adventures, but on the parts that Reid filled you in on, you were mortified to say the least.

“I fucked up so bad,” you groaned in pain the next morning in bed with Spencer.

“It wasn’t that bad,” he did his best to reassure you, but you silenced him with one look. “Okay maybe it was that bad, but Emily isn’t going to say anything. So we just continue as usual, right?”

You groaned again, but said no more and burrowed your face further into your partner's chest, hoping that the painkillers he’d bought you earlier that morning would take you out of your misery soon.

But there is no rest for the wicked and not even an hour later you find yourself in an FBI vehicle heading to a police station.

Your sour mood is noted by every single one of your coworkers, but evidently not some of the locals that you’re working with on the case in question. You notice them gawking at the female members of your team almost immediately as you walk into the precinct, and once again you wish you were back in bed away from these creeps. Can a girl not get some peace and quiet on a Saturday morning?

One of them in particular seems hellbent on making his harassment of the three of you a full time fucking job. He gives up on JJ quickly when she mentions her son (“asshole,” you think to yourself), and when he realises that Emily is a bit too dominant for him, he quickly loses interest in her too (“coward”). Which leaves him with all the time in the world to dedicate his energy to you.

“Hey, sweetcheeks, anything you need a big strong man to help you with?” The officer smiles down at you, practically begging you to punch him in the face.

Luckily, his sleeziness doesn’t go unnoticed by both Reid and Morgan, and they make sure to keep you within earshot the entire day, the three of you reading up on the victims' backgrounds whilst your other coworkers head to the crime scene.

“Sorry, chump, if I needed the help of a strong man, there's about five people I’d call before you - and two of them are women.” You shoot back, unwilling to stomach the bullshit of a uniform when you’re trying to do your job.

“Easy now, pretty lady, very high tension today, aren’t we?” He smirks down at you, hand on your chair, almost the perfect distance away for you to headbutt, but you choose to ignore him looking back down at your work. He backs off slightly before trying again.

“Come on now, I’m sure I could do something about that. Maybe fuck that tension right out of you?" And that’s your last straw.

Morgan almost prides himself on having the foresight to grab you before you can launch yourself at the man, ready to scratch his eyes out if he takes it even one step further. What he didn’t see coming at all was Reid throwing the punch first, connecting directly with the chauvinistic officer's nose and flooring him.

“Son of a bitch, I'm not sure I know any woman who'd want to touch you with a ten-foot pole, much less my fucking girlfriend." He seethes out, and Morgan is almost too stunned to speak. He releases you from his grip, and you run to Reid, making note of the way you instantly slot into Reid’s arms, like you were meant to be there.

“Damn pretty boy, nice hit,” is all he can get out, still a little shocked that the two of you had managed to hide this from him for so long.

“You bwoke my noise…” the officer rolled on the floor in pain.

“You’re lucky it was me and not her. And for the record, she's only 'high-tension' because we got interrupted this morning to come and help your sorry ass with a case,” Spencer seethed at the man, only now noticing that his knuckles weren’t faring too well either.

“As entertaining as this is, that's enough, Reid. You take your man and clean him up, Y/L/N, I got this one here, okay?” Morgan swiftly gave you orders, and you let out a sigh of gratitude, knowing that Morgan was going to make sure you got minimal reprimands for this.

“Oh and by the way you two,” he smirked at you a little as you made your way out. “Congratulations.”

–X–

In the name of keeping your relationship to yourself, the two of you had, so far, nearly gotten suspended, filled Emily in on some of the raunchier parts of your sex life, and accidentally shared some of those same details with your Unit Chief to boot. Your only saving grace was that, because you’d sworn everyone to secrecy, and they all seemed to pride themselves on smuggly keeping the information to themselves, they hadn’t started using you as an office-wide conversation started just yet.

All-in-all though you’d needed some time out of the office to relax for a bit, so when JJ came to you at the last minute with a plea for help asking for you to possibly babysit Henry the next night, you’d gladly accepted. Babysitting may seem like a lot of work, but seeing that little angel's face only brought you peace of mind, despite his mother’s protestations that he was only that well behaved for other people.

You were honestly looking forward to spending the night playing with the kid, and you decided it was about time you showed him some classic kids movies, as you packed both Toy Story and The Lion King ready for a fort film night! You were so excited, in fact, that you forgot your previous arrangement with Reid.

“Hey, Y/N, about ready to go? Thanks again for agreeing to carpool out with me tonight, you know how crowded the metro gets on friday nights.” He winks at you, using your regular cover for your biweekly date night, as your stomach drops.

“Oh god, Spencer I totally forgot. I told JJ I’d watch Henry for her tonight, so I’m heading there straight after work so I can watch him whilst she gets ready for dinner with Will.” You guiltily look up at the man whose face has fallen into the most adorable pout you’ve ever seen.

“Oh, hey, no problem, it’s okay, tell Henry I said hello.”

Overhearing this, and seeing her friend's obvious disappointment, JJ jumped into the conversation quickly.

“Hey, why don’t you come over as well, Spence? Henry’s been saying he missed his Uncle Spencer, and I was going to order a pizza for Y/N anyways, if you want that?” She suggested, looking between the two of you.

“I bought movies as well?” You added, hoping desperately that he’d say yes, even if you weren’t acting the most subtle about your feelings for him.

“Sure, thanks for that JJ. Let me just grab my jacket.”

Four hours later and the two of you were all played out. You’d entertained incessantly for the first hour, Henry desperately excited to show both of you each and every toy he’d acquired since you’d last been at his house. When the doorbell rang and the pizza arrived, he hadn’t lost steam, and it took you putting on the first of your movies of the night to get him to drop his toys and focus on the pizza and the plot.

And of course, you’d gone and promised him two movies at the beginning of the night, so after wrestling him into pyjamas and making him brush his teeth, you were finally resting again on the sofa. Reid sat at one end, you at the other, with Henry’s sleeping head in your lap, you stroking the little guy's hair.

“I think, and don’t quote me on this, that he’s asleep now, Y/N.” Spencer whispered to you over the movie.

“I know, he just looks so comfortable I don’t want to move him.” You pout at him, looking down at the sleeping angel in your arms.

“Hey, it’s not fair he’s getting all of your attention.”

“Spencer Reid, are you telling me you're jealous of a child right now?” You asked him in a mockingly shocked tone as he stood up from his side of the couch and came closer to you, placing one hand on the arm rest beside you and the other on the couch cushion behind you, effectively boxing you in.

“If I say yes, will you stroke my hair like that?” He smiled down at you, closing the distance between the two of you and giving you the softest sweetest kiss you could have asked for.

When he pulls back you find your lips following his, wanting more, but he just laughs at you and pulls Henry out of your arms, cradling him softly as he carries him upstairs to bed as you think to yourself that you’d do anything to see that scene every night of your life.

On Monday morning, JJ pulls you aside to thank you again, bringing you some of the chocolates she knows you like to show you her appreciation.

“He was a little angel, JJ. A bit energetic and excited but he was so sweet and sat with me the entire way through the movie before he fell asleep.” You gushed about the baby, happily holding your gift.

“You know that little angel did ask me something pretty interesting at breakfast the next morning.” JJ smiles at you, and you encourage her to keep going.

“He asked me if mommy and daddy kiss because they love each other, and so of course we said yes, that we love each other very much, and you know what he said after that?” She laughed a little, and you could feel your cheeks getting hot as you knew you’d been busted once again.

“He said that he was happy because that meant Uncle Spencer and Auntie Y/N must love each other a lot, too.”

You covered your blushing cheeks, not even trying to stammer out a response, knowing that JJ had probably interrogated little Henry about what he’d seen when feigning sleep the weekend before.

“Relax, Y/N, no harm done. And for what it’s worth, I think you’re good for him. He seems a lot,” she paused to think of the right word before continuing, “a lot more like himself than I’ve seen him in a long time.”

You try to hold in the tears that threaten to spill from the touching words, as you stammer out a small thank you.

Another team member knew now, but that had to have been the most successful way you'd revealed your relationship to date.

--X–

This had to have been the worst way you’d revealed your relationship to date.

It was a slow day of office work in the BAU with no consultation case coming up just yet. And with the majority of your paperwork done, you really were just trying your best to stay entertained around the office before you could clock out and go home.

So when you received a message from Spencer that read “copy room down the hall, five minutes,” your interest was piqued enough to make you run there immediately, not even waiting for the appointed time.

You opened the door slightly and a hand shot out and pulled you in so quickly that you almost lost your balance, your hands pushing up against Spencer’s chest as he slammed the door shut as quietly as possible.

“And what are we doing here, Doctor Reid?” You smirked up at him as you felt his arms tighten around your waist, his hands trailing up and down your back before coming to rest a little lower than before.

“Thought you could use a midday pick me up.” He smirked back leaning down to connect your lips, slowly at first, but gaining a feverish speed.

You were only so happy to give back just as you gave, your hands finding their way up to his hair, pushing your chest forward and up against his own, needing to feel closer to him than you had all day.

He gave your ass a swift slap and used your resulting gasp to force his tongue into your mouth, deepening the kiss. His mouth not leaving yours for even one second, he walked you backwards until your back hit the makeshift file shelving in the small storage closet. Lifting your leg around his waist he pressed closer into you, and finally removed his mouth from yours before swiftly returning it to your neck to continue his ministrations. He removed one hand from your ass, and worked his way underneath your top to your chest beginning to massage you there as he made to push your bra away from your now aching nipples.

Before he could do so however, the door swung open:

“Reid are you in here- oh holy mother of god.” As soon as the door opened to show the figure of Penelope Garcia standing in the door the two of you jumped away from each other like randy school kids just caught clumsily making out on school grounds. Which you supposed you technically were.

“Are you and your lady friend decent, Doctor, can I remove my hand from my eyes now and live a long and healthy life?” She squeaked out, in surprise, her hands firmly blocking everything from view.

She hadn’t seen you just yet, but there was no getting around this.

“Yes, Penny, you can open your eyes,” you almost winced after you straightened your clothes quickly.

“Y/N!?! With Reid?!” She quickly squeaked out, gaining the notice of a nearby Derek Morgan and Emily Prentiss who came rushing in as soon as they heard the frantic tone of their favourite tech analyst's voice.

“I can explain, Pen, please let’s just get out of this closet,” you tried to reason but she was still so shocked she wouldn’t listen.

“Derek, Y/N and Reid!” She motioned vaguely between the two of you.

“I know baby girl, I know.” He tried to reassure her but he couldn’t quite keep the amused look off of his face.

“You KNEW? That Y/N and Reid are getting all hot and heavy in the supply closets now? Emily, are you hearing the words coming from this beautiful man's mouth because I think I have walked into an alternate dimension and I need someone to please bring me back to my real one.” She gasped out.

“Actually, Penelope, I knew too. I think we all did actually.” Emily softly explained.

“You traitors!” she spun around to face the two of you again, and now that she’d calmed down a little, you’d found yourself gravitating towards Reid a little until he’d pulled you into a shy side hug.

“Look at them! They’re canoodling all happily in one of my supply closets, and they didn’t think to share the happy news with me!” She groaned out in faux anger. “Why did you tell Mister Action Man and Little Miss Faked Her Death here before me! Come on, I'm not that untrustworthy!”

“Actually, we didn’t technically tell anyone.” Reid managed to finally get out between Penelope’s moans of anguish, that stupid little smirk you loved so much playing on his face.

“Yeah,” you agreed, turning back to face your three coworkers. “I guess they all just had light bulb moments, and realised themselves, right?”

“God, stop being so cute and in love, it’s making me want to forgive you too easily.” Penelope joked, and you all let out a quiet laugh before deciding to remove yourself from the situation.

“Okay, I’m fine with being the last to know about this, but you better make Aunty Penelope the first in line to hear about any future Baby Geniuses, do you hear me?”

[alwaysmicado]

What you need

2.9k | 18+ NSFW | fwb!Joel Miller x f!reader | pt. 4

Warnings: no outbreak AU, implied age gap, facesitting, unprotected p in v, creampie, pet names, Joel is the little spoon Summary: Joel is sick and your pussy's the best medicine. A/N: This one’s just cute! 🤍 After the next two parts or so, we’ll start to get into it for real. Fucking around is fun, but it doesn’t last forever, does it…

pt. 1 ・ pt. 2 ・ pt. 3 ・ series masterlist ・ AO3

You: How was the client? Joel: I stayed home, not feeling too well You: You need anything? Joel: Just you ;) You: I’ll be there in 30. Stay in bed! Joel: No no babe, it’s okay Missed Call Missed Call Missed Call Joel: You’re unbelievable

“Oh, come on,” you groan and lift the measuring cup towards Joel’s lips. “Why are you such a stubborn baby, huh? Just drink the fuck-”

You stop yourself when you see him raise an eyebrow, a smug smirk tugging at the corners of his pale lips. He’s sitting in bed, his back supported by pillows, his head leaning against the wooden headboard panel.

Propping Joel up comfortably like this was a struggle in and of itself since this grown, successful man only sleeps with one, worn-out pillow he’s probably had since before you were born, so you also had to get two plumper ones from his couch to provide enough support for his poor back. What is it with him and refusing comfort? 

At least now you know what to get him for his birthday in September…

“Hmm, you love it,” he teases and puts his hand on your waist to pinch you lightly. 

“I would love it if you stopped fighting me and just took the damn NyQuil,” you counter and search his eyes. They’re heavy-lidded and glassy, revealing the exhaustion Joel’s been trying to fight all day.

You sigh and softly brush a strand of sweat-dampened hair from his forehead. He’s running a fever and the cool, damp washcloth you put on his forehead to alleviate at least some of his evident discomfort only did so much. 

At this point, you really just need him to listen to you for once, take the damn medicine and, most importantly, lie down and give his body the rest it so desperately needs.

You look at the collection of bottles on the nightstand next to him and shake your head. Since you didn’t know what his symptoms were before you came, you stopped at a pharmacy on your way over and bought everything : DayQuil, NyQuil, a bottle of cough syrup, peppermint tea, a bunch of pain meds, Epsom salts with eucalyptus and essential oils, fresh produce to make a smoothie - hell, even a thermometer because you weren’t sure if he has one.

The only thing missing is the patient’s cooperation. 

“I appreciate your care, darlin’,” Joel murmurs, reaching for your hand to pepper your palm with soft kisses, “but I really don’t need any of that. I’m just a bit under the weather, that’s all.” 

“You’d rather die than admit you’re sick, huh,” you state with a tilted head and raised eyebrows. 

“Now that’s a bit dramatic, isn’t it,” he murmurs and nibbles on your arm. 

“Says the grown man who gagged from the tiniest sip of green smoothie,” you scoff. 

“Yeah, well, that shit was disgusting,” he chuckles, pulling you closer by your waist so you’re straddling his lap. “C’mere, sweetheart.”

“You have a fever, Joel,” you sigh and cup his cheeks. “I’m worried, okay?” 

“About little old me?” He smiles and squeezes your hips. 

“Yeah,” you lean in to press soft kisses to his cheek. “And I need you to let me help you, so tell me what-”

“Sit on my face.” 

“Huh?” You sit back up and look into his eyes in surprise.  

“Take your slutty little pants off and sit on my face,” he repeats with a cocked eyebrow. 

“How is that-” 

“I’ll take the meds if you do,” he interrupts with a smirk, his eye crinkles giving away his genuine amusement at this genius suggestion.

You sigh deeply and look at the ceiling. How is this guy real? “And a whole smoothie,” you murmur as you get up. 

You push your shorts down together with your panties, let them fall to the floor, then climb back onto the bed to straddle Joel’s lap without the covers separating you this time. He looks at you hungrily, the fever completely forgotten as he sees and feels your naked cunt and thighs.

“Mmm, that’s it, baby,” he groans softly, his big hands on you immediately, gripping your ass and moving you up and down the length of his hardening cock. “Look at the mess you’re already making on me,” he murmurs, turned on by the wetness you’re spreading over his gray sweatpants. 

“You get off on caring for me, hm?” He taunts with a smug grin. 

“Oh, shut up,” you roll your eyes and capture his lips in a bruising kiss. He wraps his arms around you, pulling you close, as close as he possibly can, kissing you greedily. You writhe and wriggle on his lap, moaning into his mouth, your hands tangled in his hair.

He breaks the kiss to nibble and bite at the soft skin of your neck, leaving marks behind. You’re letting it slide this time, enjoying the tantalizing sensation of slight pain mixed with the soft touch of his lips and facial hair that’s causing your pussy to clench around nothing. 

You’re just going to have to wear a silk scarf or something to work.

“God, I wanna taste you so bad, baby,” Joel moans into the crook of your neck, his eyes closed. You bite your lip and hum as the friction of your movements on Joel’s pants stimulates your clit perfectly.

“You gonna be good if I let you?” You purr into his ear with a roll of your hips, eliciting a soft whimper from him. 

“You come all over my face, angel, and I’ll do whatever you want,” he whispers, his fingers digging into your sides. 

“Alright, baby,” you coo and lift your weight off his lap. “Lie down for me.”

Joel scoots down and lays his head on the pillows, looking at you intently with big eyes. You position yourself over his face, hold on to the bed’s headboard panel and lower your hips carefully. 

“Look so fucking gorgeous,” he mumbles before hooking his arms over your thighs and pulling you further down. His warm breath and facial hair tickle you as he kisses your lips softly, then drags his nose through your wet folds, inhaling your mesmerizing scent and nudging your swollen clit before repeating the movement. 

You throw your head back and moan softly as he slides his tongue between your folds, lapping at your dripping hole and pushing in ever so slightly before circling your clit. Your fingers tangle in his dark curls as the vibrations of his deep groans intensify every movement of his lips and tongue.

“Fuck, you taste divine like always,” Joel breathes as he dips his tongue into your wet heat to lap up as much of you as he can. You look down and clench around his tongue when you see his blown pupils and frenzied look. His mouth moves at a relentless pace, making you squirm and tug on his curls harder. You’re so close already. 

When your moans get louder and Joel feels you grinding your pussy on his face harder to chase your imminent high, he can’t resist biting the marks already adorning your skin. 

“Ow, fuck!” You cry out in surprise at the sudden pain shooting through you. You hadn’t even noticed the purple bruises on your inner thighs when you showered and got dressed today.

Maybe it should concern you that your body hasn’t been without bruises for a few months now. But it doesn’t, if you’re being honest with yourself. You just weren’t planning on showing someone else’s marks off to Joel this time. You really weren’t. 

“Fun night?” Joel asks with a smirk before sucking on your swollen clit hard, keeping you in place with his hands splayed over your ass.

“Can’t complain,” you bite back back, or at least try to, since your voice devolves into a soft whine at Joel’s harsh treatment of your sensitive bundle of nerves. The deliciously painful feeling is almost enough to send you over the edge. 

“Oh fuck, that’s it,” you moan as he starts lapping at your dripping hole again, his nose rubbing against your clit with every stroke. “Feels so good, baby.” 

Joel groans with each lick to your puffy folds and throbbing clit, hooking his arms over your legs again and digging his fingers into your skin. “Please, Joel,” you whine, tugging on his hair harder. 

“Use my face, angel,” he pants breathlessly, completely drunk on your pussy. You’re the sweetest thing he’s ever seen or tasted. “Take what you need from me.” 

He's bucking his hips, trying to get as much friction from his pants as possible, precum leaking out of this cock steadily. 

“I’m– oh fuck –I’m gonna come,” you moan, sliding your drenched pussy over Joel’s tongue and nose frantically. He hums blissfully, holding on to your thighs and watching your face as you arch your back and fall apart with a strangled moan. 

You come on his tongue, your hips stuttering and your whole body trembling from the intense orgasm. Joel groans as he eagerly drinks your cum and slowly licks you clean when he feels you come down again. You yelp and your hips jolt at the overstimulation when he sucks your pulsating clit into his mouth, savoring your taste. 

You lift your hips and look down at him, your chest heaving and a satisfied smile playing on your lips when you see his jaw and facial hair dripping with a mix of his saliva and your cum. He looks gorgeous like this. 

You swing your leg over Joel’s chest and lie down beside him. He turns to face you and gently traces your thigh with his warm hand, still breathing heavily. You scoot closer, so you’re flush with his body and place your bent leg between his. 

“Kiss me, Joel,” you purr as you nudge his wet nose with yours and caress his cheek with your palm. He gives you a smile before leaning in and capturing your swollen lips with his. You part your lips and allow his tongue to slip inside, feeding you your own cum. He grabs your ass to pull you closer against him, your bodies pressed together heatedly, both breathing heavily as you feel the thud of your combined heartbeat. Joel groans into your mouth softly as he rubs his throbbing cock against your hip, his hand traveling along your waist to your belly. You thrust your hips so your pussy rubs against his thigh on the bed, more than ready to come again. 

“So perfect,” Joel murmurs against your lips as he slides his hand under your shirt and palms your breast. He tweaks your hard nipple, eliciting a soft moan from you. He furrows his brow and looks into your eyes intently, his pupils even bigger than before. Every fiber of his fevered body is aching for you, to be close to you, to become one with you, to be yours.

You see something shift in his face, but can’t put your finger on what it is, so you don't say anything. 

“Can I fuck you?” He mumbles into your neck where he’s kissing and biting at you sloppily, his hand still massaging your breast and his cock screaming for release. 

“Are you sure you’re okay?” You breathe, your need for Joel to be alright still trumping your primal need to get off. You're an animal, not an asshole. 

“I’m more than okay, darlin’,” he reassures you with a tired smile.

“And you’re not gonna die on me halfway through?” 

“Don’t care,” he murmurs and takes your hand to press it against his erection. You rub up and down his length slowly as he slides his hand between your legs. You groan when he circles your sensitive clit a few times before sliding two of his fingers into your warm cunt. He pumps them in and out a few times before adding a third, the heel of his palm putting delicious pressure on your clit. 

“You want me to ride you, baby?” You pant, feeling your second orgasm build already. 

“Can we-,” Joel breathes, his cock throbbing, “can we just stay like this?”

“Of course,” you nod and help him pull down his sweatpants. He pulls his fingers out of you and wets his cock with your slick before removing his pants fully. “C’mere,” you coo as you draw him close to you and drape your leg over his hip. He strokes his length a few times before nudging your entrance with his pulsating tip and sliding in in one smooth thrust. He wraps his arm around you, splaying his hand on your back under your shirt, moaning into your hair when he bottoms out.

“Oh shit, you feel too good, baby,” he groans and holds on to your ass cheek to pull you toward him in unison with his frantic thrusts. “I– fuck –I ain’t gonna last long,” he pants. “You want me to fill you up?”

“Yeah,” you nod with a needy moan, your brow furrowed. Joel’s cock is hitting your g-spot repeatedly, causing the muscles in your thighs and lower belly to tense and your climax to approach rapidly. 

“Tell me, baby,” he breathes, his cock massaging your inner walls with every snap of his hips. 

“I-I want you to come inside me, Joel,” you whine, your nails digging into his shoulders. “Please, please fill me up.” 

He can feel your walls tightening around him and your whole body tensing, so he tilts your head up by gripping the nape of your neck. “Look at me, baby,” he breathes and grinds his pelvis against your clit. It only takes a few more of his thrusts for the tension in your belly to snap with an intensity you’re never able to achieve on your own. Or with anyone else for that matter.

You come with his name on your lips, your walls spasming and contracting around his cock as you ride out your orgasm. Seeing and hearing and feeling you in such a state of ecstasy due to his touch pushes him over the edge, emptying himself deep inside of you with a breathless groan. He stays buried inside you as his cock pulses and your pussy swallows every last drop of his warm cum. 

You stay like that for a minute, limbs intertwined, skin hot and sweaty, breathing heavily, hearts pounding, looking at each other curiously. You slowly trace Joel’s eye crinkles with your fingertips, then gently run your fingers along his perfect nose before moving further down to gently touch the bare spot on his jaw where his facial hair never grows.

“What’re you doing,” he chuckles, drawing shapes on your ass and thigh with his fingertips. 

“Nothing,” you lie with a warm smile. “Just looking at the man who most definitely just gave me all of his germs and will most definitely come and clean my apartment when I’m lying in bed with a fever."

Joel rolls his eyes in mock offense and you giggle. “Told you to stay away when you showed up here,” he murmurs and slaps your ass playfully.     

“Oh, Joel,” you sigh, “you’ve come inside me so many times that our DNA is probably the same at this point.” You kiss his forehead. “I don’t care about a few germs if I get to ride your face and hear your cute little whimpers when you almost come in your pants like a teenager.”

Joel's cheeks flush with a mix of fever and embarrassment as he catches the hint of a grin on your face. “Stop it,” he grumbles, the corner of his lips twitching involuntarily. “You’re mean.” 

“And you’re impossible,” you chuckle, your hand reaching out gently to stroke his forehead and tousled hair in a soothing gesture. His eyelids flutter at your touch and a faint sigh escapes him, a small surrender to the tenderness you’re offering.

— “Thank you, darlin’,” Joel murmurs before setting down the glass on the nightstand and laying his head on the pillow mountain you’ve built for him. “I’m just gonna lie down for a bit.” 

“Alright, baby” you coo, walking over to your bag to retrieve your phone, then sitting on the bed beside him. You play a game for a few minutes, relaxing and monitoring Joel’s rhythmic breathing. He’s lying on his belly, his head turned away from you, his left knee pulled toward his chest. It’s the same exact pose you sleep in. 

In another life you might fall asleep like this together every night, two puzzle pieces fitting together perfectly, completing each other. You smile softly at the thought and reach out to stroke his back. 

“All your fault,” Joel grumbles into the pillows.

“Huh?” You ask, startled and confused. You thought he was fast asleep. 

“Haven’t seen you in over a week,” he mumbles. “Bad for my system.” 

You chuckle and plant a soft kiss on his temple. “I’m sorry,” you whisper. “Won’t happen again.”

“Just stay for a while,” he murmurs, his voice a mere whisper. You linger for a few seconds, studying his profile, before lying down behind him. He instinctively turns from his belly onto his side, so you can drape your arm over him.  

“You can sleep now, baby,” you whisper as you nestle against his back, molding your body to his contours, your warm breath ghosting the nape of his neck.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

---

Thank you for reading! 🤍

part 3 || part 5 || series masterlist

[yuri-is-online]

Jade narrating the stuff Yuu is doing sounds funny/cute.

Dear annon, objectively you are correct. Jade narrating things sounds funny and cute in general. Unfortunately I have a cold and just took some nyquil ヽ(・∀・)ﾉ Whoops.

notes:they/them used for Yuu, this is a joke tm inspired by this meme. Please do not take this seriously and look at my masterlist for something not written on drugs.

"The humble shrimp, according to all known laws of hydrodynamics should not be able to swim. Their little legs are much too small to propel them through the ocean." Jade does not say this out loud, instead he continues to prop his head up on his hand and observe the Lounge's newest employee slaving away over the stove, signature reserved smile on his face. "The shrimp of course, swims anyway, because the shrimp does not care about what mages think is impossible."

Not that you are cooking for the lounge (yet) Jade had just invited you over for a little... he had said it was to study. What you had no idea, your patience maybe? He certainly hasn't moved since inviting you to help yourself to the Octavinelle kitchen saying something about how "humans have such interesting uses for leftovers."

"Bullshit." You think, punctuating the curse with a particularly harsh scrape to the pan. "He just didn't want to cook his dinner tonight."

"Imagine if you will, a pan of rice." Jade is idly toying with a spoon, swapping between waving it like a conductor or holding it still to speak into it like an announcer. "Truly a blessing to the hungry masses, a staple food if you will."

"Oh please no." You are tempted to spit in his plate but he would just put an unnecessary type of emphasis on thanking you for the food.

"It is presented to you fried," Jade continues, clearly deeply amused with himself "but this time, it has not been fried by a trustworthy fellow human-"

"You are an eel." You decide to settle your need to be petty by giving him the smaller fork, which does get you a regretful sigh but does not stop Jade's recapping the last episode of Twisted Wonderland.

"But by a shrimp." Jade loves it when you cook for him, not that he really wants to admit to that out loud lest you stop. Or huff and puff in embarrassment, he wants to save that for much later. Sometime when you are back in the Coral Sea and tucked neatly against his chest, safe and very much completely his and not able to run away. "The humble shrimp is proud of it's cooking."

"I am not an it, I am your partner." You are not exactly mad, you are proud of your cooking. And proud that, just like he does for his brother, he will eat all of it and then find something to complain about with a big smile on his face. Jade once again twirls his conductor's spoon, with a hum that sounds sort of like an agreement.

"The shrimp is very proud of their cooking," he amends "and the eel is very happy they want to share with him." You push your food around your plate in embarrassment much to his delight. He can't resist pushing you just a bit further, getting up as if to make for a cup but pausing to kiss your cheek before setting his kettle on the stove so it's ready to repay your favor once dinner is done. "Do be gentle with me," says the eel, heart beating horrifically hard against his chest "I am much more fragile than I look." He very much does not expect to see you darting up to kiss his lips when he turns back from the stove, the shrimp darts away with a smug giggle as the eel stands stunned, savoring the warmth of their affection before he returns to his seat.

Yes, the eel thinks he is keeping this one. Forever, ideally.

[b4mpyre-k1zz3s]

The Jackass Guys Taking Care of You while you’re Sick HCs!

Johnny Knoxville X Fem!Reader, Chris Pontius X Fem!Reader, Steve-O X Fem!Reader, Bam Margera X Fem!Reader, Ryan Dunn X Fem!Reader

Warnings: Mentions of illness, pet names (ie. darlin’), alcohol

An: While writing this, I was actually bed bound for two days to to a nasty respiratory illness, so I think you could guess where my inspiration came from XD Ironically enough, in between writing this and coming out I got sick again. Boy, what an immune system I have! I get sick frequently and one thing I can always count on making me feel better is writing about the guys :)

You had no appetite, you could barely leave your bed, and you had a temperature of 101.9. Yep, with how sick you were, there was no way you’d be able to go to work.

So you called your boyfriend to help take care of you

Johnny

“Oh, darlin’…”

You were in sore shape, and like the amazing boyfriend he was, Johnny went to helping you feel better right away!

Really, he missed his calling as a doctor or nurse with how sweet and considerate he is to you

Helping you out of bed if you’re weak on your feet and to the shower, assuring you how much better you’ll feel after you get a lil’ steam in your system <3

And after you get out, he’d sit behind you and gently comb/brush our hair for you, no matter how many times you mumbled to him that yes, you were sick, but you could take care of your basic needs yourself

But you secretly enjoyed being babied by him

If you couldn’t stomach much, he’d bring you some warm tea and fruit with a kiss on the forehead before he went to set up the humidifier

When Robitussin and NyQuill weren’t making a dent in your fever, Johnny got a little creative,

“If it doesn’t make you better, you’ll forget you were sick in the first place!” He explained, handing you the mug of hot water, lemon, and a splash of bourbon

A hot toddy, he told you it was called, something his mama used to give him when he was sick at home

And that thing worked.

Your eyes were falling close as you murmured, half asleep already,

“Thank you, Dr. Knoxville…”

Bam

“You look like shit.”

Lack of bedside manner aside, he is probably the last person you want taking care of you while you’re sick.

“Well thanks, Bam- I feel like shit.”

Feeling a little bad for you he asked if you needed anything

So you asked for something to eat- maybe soup and warm tea?

But all you received was an uncrustqble (which you bought because bam doesn’t like the crusts on his sandwiches) and a bottle of water lobbed onto your bed from the doorway.

“D’you think you could grab me some tissues too?”

With a groan, Bam disappeared into the bathroom before you heard all this thudding and an exasperated, “Fuck!”

Before he emerged with a roll of toilet paper.

Sure, maybe he wasn’t Florence Nightingale, but he did what you asked and you honestly didn’t even expect this much from him

He mumbled, disticnt affectionate tone in his voice as a smile crept onto his face as he walked by your bedside to ruffle your hair a little,

“You’re a real pain in the ass, Y/N.”

Chris

“Time for your sponge bath!”

Chris is a firm believer in the fact that laughter is the best medicine

So that’s why he walked into your room wearing one of those sexy nurse outfits.

And while you appreciated the sentiment, you didn’t really need the sponge bath

You also didn’t need the rectal thermometer he proudly offered to you,

“Time to take your temperature! Roll over!” He chuckled that sweet stoner laugh of his, “Kidding, kidding- it’s one’a the normal ones.”

Or when Chris pretended to “accidentally” drop said thermometer next to your bed and bend over to pick it up with his ass in full veiw.

Soon, you began to recognize the click clack of cherry red high heels as the sounds of Nurse Pontius,

And you’d come to anticipate his spectacular bedside manner ;)

In fact, this whole ordeal just left you more endeared to him

Yes, even when he asked to warm your boobies up because in his words, they looked really cold.

“You know, your probably the best nurse I’ve ever had.”

Steve-O

“What’s goin’ on?”

He stumbled into your room, having kind of forgotten why you called him,

Steve isn’t so much of a caregiver as he is a heating pad

But damn it if he isn’t a good heating pad

He’d just walk into the room and lay down next to you, all warm and cozy- a heaven for your shivering, sick body

Despite how nice it felt to cling to him, he isn’t much help besides that given the fact he fell asleep five minutes ago (not that you noticed)

“Hey, do you think you could grab me some-“ Yep. Out cold

So you had to tear yourself from the comfort of your bed to make yourself soup

And when you return, all shivering as you slip back under the covers,

Of course that’s when he wakes up.

You had already started eating when Steve took the bowl from where it was resting on your lap to steal a few bites himself

When you pointed out that he just used the same spoon you did (and would probably get sick too), he just shrugged,

“So what? I don’t care.”

Ryan

“Are you dead yet?”

While there was an unmistakeable tone of sarcasm in Ryan’s voice, he really was concerned

Out of all the guys, he would be the one to get worried sick (no pun intended) about his ill girlfriend :(

But he played it off well, saying that he didn’t have anything to do that weekend despite canceling plans with Bam to look over you

So he might as well sit by your bedside to make sure you’re okay!

Or that he just conveniently rented all of your favorite movies because he wanted to watch them, but you’re free to join him if you wanna watch

And, despite your warnings that you’ll get him sick, he’d have no problem with laying down next to you if you can’t sleep

Because that’s what the two of you usually do! No reason to break routine because of a stupid cold.

“C’mon! With you shiverin’ like that, how could I not? It’s like seein’ a kitten out in the rain…”

[callsign-rogueone]

under the weather

fourth wing boys* x gn!partner!reader *Aaric, Bodhi, Brennan, Dain, Garrick, Liam, Ridoc, Sawyer, Xaden! y'all seemed to like excuses, excuses, so here’s something in that style because I don’t feel good rn, but I want to write :( and I added Aaric this time too!  words: 645 🏷: no spoilers. just some thoughts on ways our boys would take care of you when you’re sick 🥰 descriptions of sickness (cough, fever, dizziness, etc.) doctors visits, medication. I've been ripping shots of nyquil all day and I’m not all there rn so I really hope these make sense lol 

Aaric lets you rest your head in his lap while he reads to you, either from a textbook (the grind never stops with this one) or whatever fiction novel he’s reading. the words go in one ear and out the other in your soft delirium, but it’s still nice to hear his voice and feel him stroking your hair as he reads. if you fall asleep on him, he won’t move until you wake up, or unless he absolutely has to — but heaven help the person who makes him move.

Bodhi insists on cuddling you back to health, curling up with you and letting you rest your aching body against his while you settle in for a long afternoon nap, because sleep is the best medicine. he completely ignores your protests that you’ll get him sick too (you do, and then it’s your turn to play nurse next week, but he swears it was worth it). 

Brennan spends as much time with you as he can, bringing his paperwork and things to your shared room so that he can be there when you need him, while still tending to his duties as a leader of the revolution. he checks your temperature and pulse etc. every hour, monitoring you carefully, but he’ll make up for it with lots of forehead kisses. 

Dain excuses you from training until you’re better, insisting that you stay in bed and devote all your energy to recovering. he frequently comes to check on you throughout the day, and you better still be in bed when he does, or you’ll be getting a gentle lecture about the importance of your caring for yourself and how much you mean to him — he needs you to be healthy, okay?

Garrick carries you around whenever you need to go somewhere, because he doesn’t want you collapsing after that dizzy spell you had. he doesn’t care if it’s only twenty feet to the showers and back; he’s scooping you up and walking over himself. he also insists on supervising your shower, but no funny business — you’re sick. once you’ve recovered, however…

Liam draws you a warm bath, letting you soothe your aching muscles for a while before washes your hair and your back for you, being incredibly gentle all the while. he’ll dry you off afterward, letting you pick any of his clothes to wear to sleep if you want, and helping you through the steps of your nightly routine — brushing your teeth, etc., before giving you your medicine and letting you fall asleep on his chest.

Ridoc goes with you to the healers, rubbing your back and making soft jokes all the while to distract you from the discomfort — apologizing when your laughs turn into a coughing fit. he also tries to make you feel normal / less gross when you’re stuck in bed, helping you with basic self-care: brushing and braiding your hair, taking your makeup off if you wear it, helping you do your skincare… 

Sawyer does all the things that you can’t do while you’re sick — goes to class and copies an extra set of notes for you, does your laundry, straightens up your room, etc. that way you can focus on recovering, but also, once you’re back on your feet, you won’t have a huge mess to deal with and you won’t be behind on your studies. he’ll help you review what you missed, as well. 

Xaden is protective to a fault, but when you’re sick, it’s a whole new level. he doesn’t leave your side unless absolutely necessary, ignoring any form of protest. follows the healer’s instructions to the letter — antibiotics every four hours? he’s waking you up at two am, glass of water in hand, helping you sit up so you can take them. he’ll also use his shadows to dim the room so you can sleep through the day. 

[withahappyrefrain]

Pad See Ew and Parking Spots

The last thing you need while sick is the equivalent of a Hangnail over.....or is it?

Another entry to the Parking Spots Universe read part 1 and part 2!

Warnings: Banter, teasing, Jake being an absolute simp, no y/n but reader's nickname is Venus

Your head felt like someone had filled it with cotton and was pressing down. Stuffed and fuzzy, the pressure on your sinuses made turning your head a labor of work.

The constant pressure on your face made it impossible to enjoy the unexpected time off from work, as watching TV was too strenuous.

Instead, you put yourself on bed rest, trying to find a comfortable spot so you could close your eyes and nap.

Just when sleep was within reach, the loud vibrations of your phone ringing pulled you out of your moment of peace.

Pushing away the used tissues and weighted blankets, you found your phone, the name of the caller lighting up.

Human Hangover.

Of course. It's like he had a sixth sense, always able to annoy you at the worst possible time.

You put the phone back in the midst of pillows, allowing it to continue to ring. Sure, you could text him, but why should you?

You were getting too close anyways.

During the last parking lesson, you actually smiled at the Men's Health poster child.

It wasn't even something you noticed yourself doing. He just looked so fucking ridiculous, blasting 'Venus' by the Bananarama in his dumb Jeep as he waited for you to walk up.

You had half a mind to turn around and shut the door. He was ridiculous, bobbing his head up and down to the music, giving you an exaggerated wink.

Had he not said anything, you wouldn't have gone the whole night not realizing what you had done.

But he was obnoxious, so naturally he had to let out a breathless wow as he leaned his head against the steering wheel with stars in those sea green eyes.

"What?" You asked, rolling your eyes as you got into the passenger seat.

"Your smile."

The worst thing was that you couldn't even muster up a sneer, an eye roll, a snarky remark.

Instead, a warm flush had overtaken your cheeks due to his statement. His stupid, corny words were having an effect on you, one that didn't give you an immediate migraine.

As fun as it was to get free dinners, have picnics on the beach, and take jabs at him, it had gone too far. You found yourself that night looking at his lips much longer than you ever intended.

So getting sick was actually perfect. You would ignore him, giving him that final push to go talk to the long list of other girls who were waiting for him. Girls that would let him into their beds, let him treat them as a hump and dump.

Sure, his patience was admirable-you truly thought after the third date-parking lesson- he would finally get the hiny. But he was just playing a long game. As soon as you'd let him in, he'd leave. Therefore, you should leave first. It was perfect.

You downed some NyQuil and put your phone on silent. A pang of guilt flared up in your chest when you saw the several missed calls.

It was for the best. The last thing you wanted, nay, the last thing you needed, was another person to remind you that you're only good enough for a fuck, not a relationship.

So you swallowed the guilt and closed your eyes, finally able to drift off to sleep.

Whether minutes or hours had gone by, you couldn't say. The loud banging on your door not only woke you up, but caused your heart rate to skyrocket and your blood to run cold.

Who the fuck…..

You had half a mind to pull the covers over your head. But something in the back of your head told you that the pounding wouldn't cease.

Using all your strength, you willed yourself out of bed, pushing away the covers and used tissues, grabbing your glasses to clear your vision. Slowly but surely, you made your way through your apartment to the entrance door.

Upon opening it, you immediately wished you had stayed in bed.

“Oh my god, you’re ok-wow, you look rough. Are you okay? Are you sick?”

“I can see why the navy kept you, your observation skills are astounding,” you deadpanned. Your reflexes were too slow, bogged down by the cold you had, allowing Hangover to prevent the door from closing on him.

“Why are you out of bed, you should be sleeping!” He said, sounding closer to your mother than his usual obnoxious self.

“I was doing that until you came,” you gritted out between your teeth.

Jake stopped dead in his tracks, “You wear glasses.”

Fuck.

Jake didn't think it was possible to find you more attractive. But you wear glasses apparently. Why don't you wear them more often?

"Yes, I also have exactly one head if you didn't know by now," you rolled your eyes, "Officer Hangover-"

"Lieutenant."

"Lieutenant Hangover, is there anything I can help you with? Because right now my priority is getting better-"

You stopped as you felt one of his hands gently press against your forehead. When did his eyes get so bright and intense? You had to look away from his stare.

"You're burning up," he murmured, his voice low and deep. God, you hated his voice. How it was smooth like whiskey, topped off with that slight drawl.

His stupidly large fingers gently grasped your chin, the cool metal of his class ring grazing your skin. Before you could comment, he titled your jaw up, forcing you to look at him and his ridiculous eyes.

"We gotta get you to bed V."

"That's what I was trying to do before you- hey!" Embarrassment flooded you as he picked you up like it was nothing. Within seconds, he was carrying you bridal style

"Put me down Seresin!" Jake couldn't help but smile at your words. Seresin. It was his last name, but you were calling him by one of his names.

Progress.

"Y-you're gonna get sick, put me down!"

"I'm in the military. I've had every vaccine known to man and then some."

You tried to jerk away from the circles his fingers were drawing on your back. Instead, your face landed right into his chest, the smell of cedar wood so strong, you could smell it faintly through your stuffed nostrils.

You pretended to gag, needing something to distract you from the fact he just picked you up so damn easily and was able to maneuver your body like it weighed nothing.

"Y'know how I can tell that you worked at Hollister? You douse yourself in that damn cologne." You mumbled against his broad chest.

Jake shrugged, "You don't complain."

He had a point, and that was the worst part.

"I-I need to sleep," you mumbled, something Jake found adorable.

"That's what I'm doing." Suddenly your back was touching your mattress. The hand Jake had on the back of your skull (when did that happen) gently guided your head to your pillow. His hands moved to your glasses, gently taking them off and placing them on your nightstand.

"How….how did you even find my bedroom? Are you stalking me?" Your weighted blanket was pulled over your chest, bringing warmth to your shivering body.

Jake chuckled, "You live in a one bedroom apartment. I'd be worried if I couldn't find your bedroom."

You knew you were ill because Crimson Chin was making sense. He needed to leave and you clearly needed more NyQuil.

A snarky comment was about to leave your lips when it was silenced by his hand gently tracing the skin on your cheek. Fuck, why was he so touchy? It was weird and you hated it, given the fluttering your stomach was currently experiencing.

"Just sleep, okay? I got ya Venus."

No, he most certainly did not. You two weren't anything, he was just some weirdo who couldn't park for shit and looked at you like he was seeing the wide open starry sky for the first time.

You were adorable sleeping. The way your lips were slightly parted, a cute little snore escaping from your mouth.

Jake could stare at you sleeping all day. He was quite tempted to, but he had other things he needed to do.

—----------------------------------------

"Hey, Venus. Wake up." When did you fall asleep? How long had it been?

Given that the sun was now setting, it couldn't have been too long, right?

Regret filled your entire being when you opened your eyes.

"What the hell are you doing here?!" The human persona of regret and annoyance was in your fucking bedroom.

"How much NyQuil did you take?" He asked, quirking an eyebrow.

"Clearly not enough, as it didn't keep me from waking up to a nightmare."

He let out that low chuckle that made you so angry, your face heated up, "A nightmare? Most folks usually refer to me as their savior."

"It's been made pretty well known that the United States government doesn't have the greatest judgment, so I don't know why you're counting them."

Jake shrugged as he sat at the edge of your bed. It was then you noticed that he had one hand behind his back.

You reached for glasses, putting them back on. It took everything in Jake to stick to his plan and not tell you how absolutely stunning you looked.

He definitely needed to come up with a plan regarding getting you to wear your glasses more often.

"Well, I think this will change your mind," He grinned as he revealed what he was hiding behind his broad, well-defined back.

Your brows knit together in confusion as you stared at his hand. You look up at his face, then back down.

A container of Pad See Ew.

The question why forms on your tongue. It dies before it can even leave your lips, as memories of your first parking lesson flood back to you.

How could he…..better yet, why would he? Why remember such a minute detail, especially one that was a rare situation?

"I'm not going to sleep with you." Tension fills your body as you shift away from him. The air in your lungs feels constricted, almost as if part of you felt regret over your words.

It was the part of you that you had tried to squash so many times; the part that still had hopeless, naive dreams about being wanted. The part of you that always led to heartbreak whenever you followed it.

"Is that all you think I want?" His voice is soft.

Jake's not angry. If anything, he's fucking concerned because he thought that within the past month, he's made it pretty dog-gone clear he was crazy about you. That he thought the world of you.

Maybe Javy was wrong and he should have shown her the list of potential baby names he had saved on his phone. Perhaps that would have convinced you-

"Why else would you remember such a stupid detail?" You wanted to believe your anger was directed at him. But deep down, you knew it was also directed at all the jerks before him, the ones who made it impossible for you to enjoy a nice gesture.

Because it was never just to be nice.

"Because it's important and I enjoy listening to you?" It comes out as a question, though Jake's more so questioning why you find it so hard to believe that he wouldn't pay attention to you.

"I-I always remember what you say-the jokes and the non-jokes," He's trying to reassure you, but all you do is move away from him.

"You're wasting your time, Hagman. Just cut your losses now and go talk to the other girls who are dying to let you into your pants."

Your words are sour, much like the cold medicine you had taken hours ago.

"Why do you think that's all I want from you?" The tone he's using is new to you; it's not just soft, but there's a sadness that hangs around his words.

You shrug, your eyes now focused on your nails, "It's all anyone wants from me."

Jake's mind is now filled with the potential scenarios that would have led you to say such a thing, to believe such a ridiculous thing about yourself.

He has to remind himself to put down the container of food so he doesn't crush it out of anger or worse, spill it on your comforter.

"Who told you that?" You ignore his words, your brain too busy scolding you.

Why did you ever say yes to him? Why did you think you could control yourself? Stupid, stupid, stupid! You get yourself hurt every damn time.

"Hey," his hand on your shoulder breaks you out of the trance, "Who the fuck told you that?"

You jerk away at his touch. Why was he making this so damn difficult?

"No one had to tell me, I was able to figure it out pretty quickly when every attempt I've made at a relationship ends with the other person leaving me after they get bored."

Your eyes refuse to look at him; you can't. Not when memories of goodbyes over text messages and it's just not working, sorry are replaying in your head, mixed with flashbacks of nights where the loneliness was so overpowering, you cried yourself to sleep, desperate for something, anyone, to make the heartache just stop.

It was why not feeling was easier.

"Just stop wasting your time and leave me alone." There's a bitterness lacing your words as you spit them out. Your knees are brought to your chest, forcing your back to straighten.

Of course you're bitter. You dreamed about love, how great it would be to find someone to spend the rest of your life with. As a child, you didn't imagine your wedding but rather being married.

The world was cruel in the "lessons" it taught you. Not that you took them to heed, as now you were using all your willpower to not cry in front of the latest mistake.

It's an attempt to make yourself look stronger, tougher, not fragile. Jake knows it because it's what he's done so many times for God knows how long.

The front you put up is like staring at his own reflection. Deflect, make a snarky comment, and then push everyone away. No one can see that you're imperfect if no one is around.

Anger fills his body. Not at you, but at the fact he wasn't able to meet you before all those idiots filled your head with the idea that you weren't good enough. Angry that he couldn't go and beat those assholes up for making you think you weren't worthy of anyone's time.

So instead, he scoots his hand closer to you; not on your skin, but close enough to feel his presence.

"Look, I recognize I can't go and beat those assholes up for being the biggest idiots I've never even met," maybe if your thoughts hadn't consumed you, you would have chuckled at his words.

Maybe.

Jake Seresin isn't the best with words. Or emotions. Always was told they were bad (thanks Dad).

But like hell if he's going to just sit there and let you think that he doesn't think the world of you.

So, he swallows all the doubt trying to creep into his mind and is honest.

"But, I can tell ya this. I like you. A lot. Everyone on base is telling me I need to go get my head checked, but I know it's just because being with you on the ground is the closest I've felt to flying."

"And yes," he sees the way you look at him, question forming on your tongue, "I did compare being with you like flying. It's my life and I don't know…..I always thought it would just be my life and then I met you in that parking lot and you're bright and passionate and always say what's on your mind and I don't know I just....I want to do shit with you. Like take you to dinner and watch movies and bake cookies."

"You can bake?" No, that wasn't what you took away from his declaration (something you thought only was a thing in movies). But you needed more time to process what he had just said.

"Every year my mom puts on a Christmas Eve dinner and goes balls to the walls with cookies. My siblings and I always got roped into helping her, so we learned all her recipes. Of course, since I was the youngest, I mainly watched and stole spoonfuls of the dough until I was sixteen. But I can make her famous snickerdoodle cookies with my eyes closed."

It was then you noticed that when he smiled, the corners of his eyes creased.

It was endearing. Absolutely, completely endearing. His smile was comforting, like a warm fire on a winter night.

"Earl gray and lavender."

His brow knitted together in confusion; was it at your statement or that there was a small sliver of a smile when you finally looked at him?

"That's my specialty cookie," you explained as you reached for a tissue to wipe your nose, "I'll show you some time. Preferably when I'm not full of mucus and snot."

Some time. As in, you wanted to see him in the future. Show him a part of you.

"I'd like that a lot," he passed you the box of tissues.

The silence isn't uncomfortable. It's nice, serene even.

The small meow of your cat, Rugleach's way of alerting you that she was about to jump on your bed broke the quietness.

"Hey girl," Jake said to her, leaning down to scratch her chin. Your eyes widened at the sight of your cat, who hated all men, who was now purring and straining her neck to receive more pets from Jake.

Well, if that wasn't a sign.

Fuck.

"So this is the girl with more kills than me?" Jake asked, a cheeky grin adorning his handsome face.

"Yup, that's Rugleach. My protector from mice and birds," You smiled, leaning over to scratch her head, her purring being heard over your sniffles.

"You know," Jake paused, "I do have a security clearance so if you were to give me the names of those asshats , I could-"

"What, do you get a free stalking pass from the NSA?" You snorted.

"Yeah, it's part of my benefits," Jake responds, not missing a beat.

The corners of your mouth turn fully upwards and the most amazing sound comes out.

A laugh.

It's beautiful and melodic, just like you. The corners of your mouth are fully turned upwards, revealing a smile so bright and big, the corners of your eyes crease and your nose scrunches up.

Jake is thankful he's sitting down, but if he wasn't, he would have gotten on one knee and asked you to marry him right then and there.

So instead, he settles for leaning over to gently adjust your glasses that had been crooked.

"With a smile like that, why on earth would anyone let you go?"

His words combined with the tender action left you speechless, realization hitting you like a freight train.

Fuck, he was being sincere.

He was sincere the whole damn time. Ever since you first yelled at him in the parking lot.

A crumbled, used tissue hit his chest.

"Sap," you said, eyeing him with a teasing grin.

"This sap just brought you your favorite sick food. Besides," He leaned in, breath hot on your ear, "You don't seem to be complaining."

"I would never complain about Pad See Ew, Jake" you turned, hoping he couldn't feel how warm your skin was from his proximity.

It's the first time you said his name correctly. He loves it, loves the way you say it, how it rolls off your tongue so naturally. How sweet it sounds coming from your lips. How it’s your way of not just acknowledging what he said, but also how you felt about it.

He’d do anything and everything to hear you say it again.

He handed you the container, along with a pair of chopsticks. In return, you handed him the remote.

"If you put on some American military propaganda film, I'm kicking you out," You told him before taking a bite out of the dish, the noodles and sauce comforting on your throat.

Jake laughed, his hand squeezing your knee, which was a little annoying because it sent more heat through your body, "I mean, I just get really hard when Apocalypse Now comes on, can ya blame me?"

Your eyes couldn't roll back any harder, "That's a movie I've never seen and I know I'm not missing out."

"Wait, you've never seen it?" Jake's emerald eyes narrowed, concern filling them, "it's actually a great movie-not that it's my favorite, I mean, I thoroughly enjoy it but I don't get hard while watching it-"

He was rambling. Gone was the cocky pilot and instead was a guy who looked downright nervous.

You loved it.

"If I weren't so sick, I'd kiss you right now," his lips parted, though no words came out, "You should ramble more often Hangover, it's a good look on you," no attempt was made to hide your smirk at his reddening cheeks.

Jake sees this and it was ridiculously hot but also somehow totally adorable, probably due to the way the tip of your nose was so red from blowing into tissues and he just couldn't help himself.

A hand cradled half of your jaw, tilting your head up, making your lips in the perfect position for Jake Hangover Hangnail Hangman Seresin to kiss you.

You moved your lips against his, as best as you could when holding chopsticks and a plastic container.

His lips were like electricity, coursing through your veins. Your body was frozen, but not due to panic (which was the usual reason).

With anyone else, you would have been pissed that they thought kissing you while you were sick was a good idea. But with Jake….you didn't just expect it, you didn't mind it?

Yeah, you….didn't mind it at all.

Unfortunately, having a stuffy nose made breathing quite difficult, which is why you had to break away.

"You taste like Pad See Ew and NyQuil," Jake commented before pressing his lips against your right cheek. It would have to suffice while air returned to your lungs.

A laugh escaped your lips, "What did you expect? Again, you really should look into suing the government for all the brain cells you lost while in-what's it called? Grid lock?"

"So you do listen to me!"

"Can you not remind me of my mistakes? Thanks," you deadpanned, not minding the chuckle he let out. His lips pressed against your forehead, bringing a small smile to your face.

"Also, if you get sick, you can't blame me. Nor will I feel as inclined to bring you Mac and Cheese," you added before taking another bite of your food.

"I don't ever get sick," He scoffed, making you roll your eyes as you adjusted your glasses.

"That is exactly what someone says before they get deathly ill. I'm not going to figure out parking in a government military base. We're not there yet."

"So what you're saying," he leaned in, his breath once again on your ear and God, he needed to stop doing that or else you will kiss him again and will double his chances of falling ill, "We will get there?"

"You still need to learn how to park, Romeo," you paused, "speaking of which, you parked in the visitor lot, right?"

"No, that's too far away from your building. I just parked in front and hung up my work tag," Jake explained, as if that was the most sensible thing in the world.

"Jake….you can't….you have to park in the visitor's lot or else your car gets towed."

"V, they're not gonna tow someone who clearly works for the military."

"How much ya wanna bet?"

-------------------------------------------

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[theidiotwhowritesthings]

I have covid (for the first time ever wtf) and I’m feeling sick and pathetic. Just thinkin’ bout how I have to take care of myself and I hate it. How do you think sugar daddy Joel would take care of our sugar baby reader without spending any money if she got Covid or the flu??

I need some fluff to get me thru. PS I love u and your writing so flipping much.

Sugar Daddy!Joel Miller x F!Reader

Word Count: 1.1k

Warnings: mentions of illness, reader can eat chicken noodle soup, reader has hair that can be brushed away from her face

Timeline: this does not fit into the current TCOY story line and is just a separate drabble in the same universe!

[a/n: first of all, OH NO. I know how bad COVID sucks. (fun fact I've had it on five separate occasions, I basically collect a new round of it every time a new strain runs through our hospital). Please please please make sure you stay hydrated above all else! Obviously I don't know your medical history, but the best general advice is to not get dehydrated. Your body needs fluids to fight the good battle. second, I love YOU and I know this isn't much and it's not that great b/c I threw it together in fifteen minutes but I hope it makes you feel a little better, my love💜]

TCOY DRABBLE:

HOMEMADE IS BETTER THAN STORE BOUGHT

"happiness is homemade."

“Baby girl, I need you to sit up for me.” Joel hummed.

You were buried in the thick comforter of his bed feeling absolutely miserable. The cold had come on suddenly. A small cough, more irritating than anything else, spiraled into full body aches, a splitting migraine, and congestion so bad that it felt like your head was filled with concrete. Joel’s heavy hand brushed aside the hair matted to your forehead with dried sweat. Your fever was lingering last Joel checked, but the Nyquil he forced you to take with a bottle of water earlier was helping some.

Joel murmured your name once more and you just moaned in response. You felt the bed dip with his weight and his hand dragged up and down your back. The motion brought with it a comfort on par with medication itself. 

“You think you can eat somethin', sugar?” Joel asked.

“Maybe later.” You mumbled. “Sleepy.”

“That’s probably the Nyquil.” Joel replied. “I sent Riley to pick up some stuff from the store.”

You felt Joel lean over and his lips brushed against your temple. You shook your head, “You’re gonna get sick. I should quarantine alone.” You buried yourself deeper into his bed. With your nose stuffed like it was, you couldn’t smell his sheets and that bothered you more than it probably should’ve. “Don’t you have that meeting today too?”

“If you think I’m leavin' you like this, sugar, then that fever’s got you delusional.” Joel snorted. You felt the covers you had bundled yourself in begin to untangle and a whine that could only be described as pathetic slipped your lips. Before you knew it though, Joel was under the thick comforter with you and you felt yourself get pulled into his warm chest. “C’mon, baby girl. Sleep it off.”

You snuggled closer into his grip and focused on the random patterns he was rubbing on your shoulder with his hand. As a human, this was obviously not the first time you had gotten sick, but something about this time felt different. With Joel’s thick arms wrapped around you it dawned on you that it was him. The last time you were sick you were forced to take care of yourself and work through it. Having your sugar daddy around made you needy as all hell it seemed, but the comfort Joel immediately showed you had you melting against his chest.

“When I wake up, can I have soup?” You blurted the words out, half asleep.

Before sleep took you completely, you heard Joel’s deep chuckle, felt it rumble against you, “Sugar, you can have anythin' you want.”

When you woke up, you did feel marginally better. Joel was no longer in bed with you and you slowly sat up to rub at your face. You craved a hot shower to wash off the sweat and open your sinuses a bit more. A groan left your lips, still feeling crummy, and you began to climb out of bed.

“Whoa, whoa, pump the brakes.” Joel called out. He came into the room holding a tray and you chuckled at the sight of him. He set the tray down on the nightstand to usher you back into bed. “Where do you think you’re goin'?”

You gave him a tired smile, “Shower. I feel icky.”

“Icky?” Joel asked and you nodded. He chuckled and leaned forward to press his lips on your forehead again. He sat back and rubbed a hand against your leg. “Think you can stomach somethin' first?” You nodded again and Joel grabbed the tray. It looked like a bowl of chicken noodle soup, but not the kind that came out of a can of Campbell’s. “Here we go.”

You tilted your head, “Where’d you buy the soup?”

“Didn’t.” Joel grinned. “Made it.”

“You made it??”

“Uh huh.” It was honestly adorable how proud he looked of it. “Homemade is better than store bought, right? Gets you better quicker.”

You laughed, “I’m not so sure about the science behind that.”

“No, no. When I googled the recipe it definitely said this would get you better faster.” Joel teased.

You picked up the spoon and carefully blew the heat away before bringing it to your lips. The first thing you tasted was salt. A lot of salt. Too much salt. You coughed in response and tried not to twist your face to reveal the reaction. You cleared your throat and smiled, “Yum.”

Joel furrowed his brow, “What’s wrong? No good?”

“No. It’s⏤ It’s good.” You said quickly. “It’s… I like the, uh, the…” 

Joel grabbed the spoon from your fingers to take a sip himself and he immediately spluttered with a cough and groan, “What the fuck is that?” Your lips twitched up into another smile. “That tastes awful. Jesus Christ. Gimme that.”

He took the tray from you and set it on the nightstand again away from you. You set a hand on the side of your face while watching his face crumple into a grumpy look of annoyance. You shook your head, “What did it taste like as you were making it?”

“What do you mean?”

“You know. While you were making it did it taste okay?” You clarified. Joel narrowed his eyes at you in thought and you tilted your head. “…Did you taste it while making it?”

“You’re supposed to eat it while you make it??”

You laughed, “Not eat. Just taste.”

“Shit.” Joel scoffed. “I ate some of the chicken and it was good.” You reached out and cupped his face. He looked annoyed with himself, but at your touch the grumpy demeanor morphed into a soft look of concern and disappointment. Joel sighed and turned his head to press a kiss to your palm before leaning into your touch again. “I’m so sorry, sugar. Just wanted to do somethin' nice for you myself rather than just buy…”

You shook your head, “This was nice. I loved it.”

“There is no way you loved that soup. It was just salt, damn it.”

“No, but I love that you tried.” You replied. “It’s the effort that counts.”

“That’s just what people say when they fuck up.” He grumbled.

You leaned forward and kissed the tip of his nose, “You said the homemade version would make me feel better, and this has definitely made me feel better, daddy.”

Joel wrapped his hand around the back of your neck and stared softly for a moment before his smile returned. “You missed my lips, sugar.”

“I already told you. I’m icky.”

“Don’t care. Still want you.”

“You are already pushing your luck.” You scoffed in amusement. “You are gonna end up sick.”

Joel pulled you closer, and even at full strength you’d never be capable of refusing this man. He paused with his lips just barely touching yours. “I’ll risk it.” Joel’s lips sealed against yours tenderly. A soft kiss of comfort rather than of passion. A wordless act of reassurance that he was there. Joel’s tongue just barely brushed against yours before he leaned back and left you wanting more. He hummed, “You taste like salt.”

“Yeah, gee, I wonder whose fault that is.”

[alltaternotot]

The Recovery Plan | N. MacKinnon

Summary: Nathan and Y/N have a date planned, but a nasty cold gets in the way.

WC: 2K

CW: Sick fic! Bad communication, slight insecure reader, so the tiniest little bit of angst. Tooth rotting fluff, Nathan is a sweetheart. Confessions, swearing, lightly proofread. Let me know if I missed anything!

A/N: Hart trophy and best boyfriend award goes to this fella!

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You let your phone ring and ring, then go silent, the third call coming through and going to voicemail.

One thing everyone knows, you, his teammates, the media, basically the whole hockey-enjoying public, is that Nathan MacKinnon is a health nut. Like, twenty-four hours a day, never shuts off kind of health nut. In the few months you had been exclusive, he had maybe three cheat days, and had never seen you sick. So when you woke up with chills, a fever, a cough, and a head stuffed to the brim with pressure, you decided to let Nate’s calls go to voicemail and curl up in your cocoon of blankets.

He was leaving in a few days for a long, important road trip, and you were not going to be the reason Nate couldn’t play. A cold was absolutely unacceptable to pass along to him. No amount of phone ringing or anything else could convince you otherwise. You would just have to instacart some NyQuil and some soup and tough it out solo. You were not going to bother him with your issues when he had much more important things to be worrying about.

The problem was, today was Nate’s off day, and the original plan was to meet up at your favorite cafe for a light lunch, then take a trip to Red Rocks. There was absolutely no way that was happening now. You hoped he would just assume you were tired and make his own rain check of the date. You didn’t let the thoughts swirl too long before falling asleep.

Nathan was completely and utterly worried.

You had never blown him off like this, not once in your year-ish long friendship or your few months of dating. He knew you always had your phone on you, and there really wasn’t a good reason to not have it. He was calling from the cafe, now 15 minutes past your arranged meet time. After dialing you about five times, he dialed Miles Wood instead, who happened to live in the same complex as you.

“Hey Dogg,” Woody answered, “what’s up man?”

“Hey, um, have you seen Y/N? I’ve called her a bunch, we were supposed to meet up but she isn’t picking up the phone.” Nate explained, hearing a faint hmm on the other end.

“I haven’t. I’m a ways out from home otherwise I would go check for you. Maybe she forgot?” Woody offered, secretly hoping it wasn’t that because of the awkwardness that would ensue if that was the case.

“Ok, I’ll go check on her. Thanks Woody.” He said, and hung up the phone after their goodbyes.

He threw on a cap and his sunglasses, making sure he had all of his essentials before locking up and getting in the car. You had given him a spare key in case of anything, so it was going to be no problem getting in. He just hoped for the best, but still assumed the worst secretly. He had a nasty habit of doing so sometimes.

Once he arrived at your complex, admittedly speeding a little to get there, he found your car still parked in its reserved spot. That was slightly relieving. He basically skidded into the guest spot and hopped out, locking up quickly. He chose to take the stairs up to your floor, deeming it faster than waiting in the lobby for the elevator. Your door was locked, understandably, the irrational thoughts slowly leaving his anxious mind. He slid the key into the lock, twisting and opening the door softly to a dark apartment.

Not a single light was on, the only light coming in from the window in the living space. It was very, very quiet, unusual for the space when you were in it. He loved how you lit up every room you graced. Things were tidy and normal, so no crazy robbery and kidnapping. He roamed around, looking for a sign from you in the kitchen, the living space, and the balcony, finding nothing.

Finally, he came to your bedroom, slowly twisting the handle in case you were inside, he didn’t want to startle you if you were. He noticed the black out curtains drawn, the room completely dark save for your salt lamp in the corner. Your floor was messy, tissues littering the ground and stacked high in the trash can. Your phone was on the nightstand, plugged in face down. Your bed was an absolute mountain of blankets unlike anything he had ever seen, just a tuft of your tangled hair sticking out the top on the pillow.

“Oh, baby.” He muttered to himself, a pang of guilt washing over him.

Now he understood. His girl was sick and sleeping while he was definitely ringing her phone off the hook. He stepped closer, trying to find you under all of that fabric. Your head was poking out onto your pillows, hair a mess and cheeks blazing red. You had a crumpled tissue in your hand. He stuck his hand out, running the back along your forehead. You were roasting under there, but he could feel your body shivering from the chills. You stirred, but didn’t wake.

He quickly stood straight, leaving you with a quiet click of the door. He locked up, dashing back down to the car and speeding to the local Walgreens. He filled his basket with all sorts of cold and flu necessities: medicine, cough drops, peppermint tea, your favorite Gatorade, a few of those crackable instant cold compresses, and a thermometer. He hoped no one would stop him in here, wanting to be as fast as he could. Luckily it didn’t appear that anyone knew or cared that he was there, shouting a thanks over his shoulder.

The next stop was Whole Foods, so he could grab some chicken noodle soup that was remarkably close to how his own mother made hers, when Nathan or his sister were sick as children. He threw in a sandwich for him to eat later, an extra couple of your favorite drinks and a chocolate croissant for you when you were feeling up to it. He checked himself out, making his way back to your apartment as quickly as he could. He walked back in with everything, trying to be as quiet as possible. He quickly set up a little tray of soup, medicine, and gatorade. He heated up some water in your kettle and steeped a couple of the tea bags. He cracked the cold compress and wrapped it in a paper towel before making his way back to your room.

He set the tray down on your desk, walking over to your window to crack it under the curtains, airing out the stuffy, overheated space. He checked the thermometer, making sure it was calibrated and working. Now he could finally sit down on the edge of your bed, and start the Nathan MacKinnon recovery plan.

He placed the thermometer on your forehead, dragging it across and down, 102.2F flashing back at him when it stopped thinking with a beep. That made him worried, more than anything else. He grabbed the cold compress, resting it on your forehead so, so softly. You stirred again, this time waking up. The throbbing pressure in your head had only gotten worse, the pain now rattling your jaw and your teeth. You were sweating under all of those blankets, but so impossibly cold at the same time. You groaned in pain before rolling over into a heavy mass that was dipping your side of the bed. Nate’s hand found your face, his thumb brushing over your cheek in feathery dashes.

“N-Nate?” Your voice coming out hoarse and patchy. “No, no you need to get out of here.”

“I’m not going anywhere, babe. You need to break this fever.” He said, his hand sliding down to brush over your shoulders.

“No, you can’t get sick because of me. You have so much to worry about right now, I’ll be fine.” You insisted, watching his face slide into a sad frown through sleepy, delirious vision. “I’m just gonna instacart s-some meds. Go home before you catch this.”

“I beat you to it already. I’m not leaving so you can stop trying to convince me.” He crouched down, “do you think you can sit up to take something?”

You nodded, gingerly sitting up, trying to keep the pain from getting any worse. The blankets slid down as you sat up against the head board, now noticing that you had slept until 3:30pm. You guys would have been enjoying the beauty of Red Rocks by now. Nate grabbed the tray of goodies from your desk, setting it down gently. He popped the two gel caps out of the package, silently asking for your hand before unscrewing the cap to the Gatorade.

“We need to keep you hydrated, so keep taking sips of that,” he mentioned, watching you weakly swallow the cold medicine. “I hope you like chicken noodle soup, it’s very good.”

He picked up the spoon, taking some and guided it to your lips, letting you take a few bites. It definitely helped to settle your stomach, but chewing was painful. You honestly had no strength for more than half of the little bowl of soup, so Nate picked it up and returned it to the desk, placing the Gatorade next to you again. This time, Nate rounded the bed, climbing in and grabbing the remote, earning little hoarse nonononono’s from you.

He didn’t listen, of course, just adjusting so your head was resting in his lap, pulling a couple of the endless blankets up over your shoulder. He laid his hand gently over the cold compress, keeping it in place, while he picked an easy watch kind of show. Finally he sent a text to Woody, letting him know you were ok and that they were going to have a sleepy day in. His hand found your head, dragging his fingers through the tangles so you wouldn’t have to brush a huge birds nest out of your hair when you were back on your feet.

“Nate, please go, I can’t even imagine getting you sick. You guys have h-hard division rival teams coming up, they need you more than-“ you tried to reason.

“I told you already that I’m not leaving. Your fever was pretty high, and you needed to eat and drink something. I’m here to support you, whatever that looks like, and today it looks like this.” He explained, calmly and softly like it was the easiest decision he had ever made, “plus, I’ve been with you the last two days, slept here, and I haven’t gotten sick. And if I do get sick, I’ll figure it out with the staff. I’ve done it before.”

“I ruined the whole day, and my body hurts, and I don’t want you to have to deal with me right now.” You said, your eyes beginning to mist up with frustrated tears, “please, I promise I can deal with it.”

He realized you had begun to cry softly, a couple of tears dripping onto his shorts, “oh baby, you didn’t ruin anything!” He turned your body so you were laying face up, his hands coming to brush away your tears, “Also, I’m not dealing with you, I want to be there for you when you’re struggling. I don’t want you to handle it by yourself. This is just what you do when you love someone.” He rambled, the words coming out quicker than he could think.

He… loves you?

That’s the first time either of you had said it. He had planned to take you on a nice date, give you flowers, wine and dine the hell out of you, before finally telling you he loved you. Of course he knew he loved you, so he gave up the momentary wave of apprehension and went with it. No time like the present, even if that present was stuck in bed with a brutal cold.

“You love me?” You asked, choking on the words a little bit.

“Yeah, I do.” He said, looking deep into your eyes for any sign of rejection, “and I want you to be ok, so rest. We can talk about it more when you’re ready to.”

You turned back towards the tv again, Nate grabbing the cold compress to put back on your head. You close your eyes, feeling sleep call you. Nate returned to carding his fingers through your hair, keeping a slow and steady pace. Every once in a while he would run the compress over your neck and shoulders, trying to cool your burning body. The meds were already helping to bring the fever down. He could feel your breath begin to even out against his leg.

“Nate?” You asked, almost too quiet to be heard.

“Hmm?” He hummed, leaning down to hear you better.

“I love you too.” You admitted, feeling his lips press into your head before sleep overtook you again.

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:)