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tarjapearce · 6 months

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Mi Dulce Cereza (Pt. 8)

Ranchero! Miguel O'Hara x Reader

WARNINGS: Telenovela coded drama towards the end, Not so subtle hints of jealousy, fluff.

Summary: New truths are revealed, while you and Miguel’s bond strengthens.

Intro:

As the days advanced in Hacienda O'Hara, so did the renovations. He main house, Miguel and your sanctuary, had the windows and water system installed, the floors freshly done and ready to be moped in. There was little details that could be added within the following days.

Such as the stair's handles, and the hot tub in the main bedroom. An initial petition of Miguel that proved to be useful and perfect for you. He knew pregnancy would get more difficult as it grew on you.

Today's day was dedicated to the fencing around the property. A step closer to increase the security, which got him thinking.

Your parents had been quiet enough, and that meant no good. However, his mind focused on the now and how good things had advanced.

He got new contacts through town, a new cattle and horses supplier, some seeds and orchard expert, a veterinary specialized in livestock, a coffee supplier and a security company that would install the cameras once the place was fenced.

Your pregnancy was going great, twelve weeks and counting. The first trimester and a bit more were the most delicate months during the gestation, and you were almost out of danger. Baby bump was prominent enough for people realize your condition.

Many or most women would have a smaller and barely noticeable bump, but it was Miguel’s child you were growing within. He was a big man, so it was obvious for his child to be big and take a bit more of room.

It concerned him you'd have a c section or any sort of complication that would prove Vicky a bit too much for her knowledge. But things were too soon to be flooded with negative thinking.

You were alright, and that's all that he needed to know.

Miguel would often find himself stroking your belly to sleep, smiling in his sleep, happy to witness first hand the miracle of life growing alongside with you. Even though he had no idea of parenting, he knew Victoria would help him and you. Guiding you both towards the ABC's of parenthood.

He'd often fantasized with a girl. He always wanted one, to call her his little princess. He already had a queen. His queen.

The owner of his heart that was unable to sleep if he wasn't around. His one and only that curled in his chest every night and played with his hair if he wasn't feeling good. His beloved and caring wife that always asked him about the favorite part of his day, his meal, his fears to ease them later, and if he was drinking enough water cause you had caught him drinking around six cups of coffee.

His sex drive had taken a better turn, he felt younger and happier. But there was always a little hair in his soup to ruin his mood.

---

Paco was in charge to measure some of the fence and the height of the cameras.

"No te vayas a caer, hold on tight! " (Watch your fall)

"I've got this, tío! Just gotta measure that post lamp."

"I'm telling you to hold on! you're not gonna reach that-"

Miguel's eyes widened as Paco fell on the floor with a loud thud. His nephew's arm split at the forearm and held tightly by a sobbing and groaning Paco.

"Puta madre, Paco!"

Miguel rushed to him and helped him, the younger man clenched his teeth upon the pained waves that ran deep through his body.

Vicky received them with a horrified gasp. Miguel reprimanded him.

"I told you to listen! Why didn't you listen?!"

"Miguel, cálmate! Yelling him won't resolve anything. He needs a doctor!"

He gave a deep sigh and held his hands up, trying to appease Victoria.

"Joseph!" Miguel called and the young man came.

"Take him to town, go to the doctor."

Joseph nodded but cringed at the way Paco's arm was broken.

You arrived after the initial fight. Miguel told you everything and you squeezed his hands trying to reassure him.

"He didn't listen and look what happened."

"He's young, Miguel. You know how young people is. He'll be fine."

You had to pull him down to kiss his cheek.

"I'll be doing some errands today. Gotta go to the bank to check up some stuff."

"Want me to go with you?"

"Ah don't worry, it's a quick thing. Gotta make sure I've got a separate account from my parents."

He nodded with a little smile.

"Should I send Vicky with you?"

"I appreciate your concern, sweetie but I'll be fine. Can I take the truck with me?"

"Of course. Just wait until Paco returns."

He twirled you and pushed you closer to his chest, his lips delivered kisses ontop of your head, in the meantime Joseph and Paco returned.

And once they did, you left for the bank.

You gotta thank Miguel for the pregnancy glow. Cheeks didn't need any more blush, neither the lips, skin took a day off from breaking out and be radiant as if making you the prettiest pregnant woman in the bank.

Rural life had started to rub on you and your fashion choices, since you now wore a pair of black jeans, leather boots, a tank top and a flannel, and a staple, your own Stetson hat.

As you arrived to the bank, you waited in line, there wasn't much people around, a couple of elderly ladies, and around six people in line. three women including you, and three men.

Knowing that the elder would take their time, you waited in the regular line. A man, a gorgeous looking one waited right behind you. He was tall, fair skinned, well kept beard and someone that overall screamed I breath money.

Yet had decided to await his turn in like like the rest of you. Hazel eyes met with yours before diverting his eyes discretely towards your body.

He smiled at the sight of the plump ass, but his smile faltered upon seeing the golden band around your ring finger and the baby bump that made you look so radiant and beautiful.

Your name was called by the lady in the window. Hazel eyes followed you.

Transaction was completed within some minutes, thankfully way before Miguel showed up in your life you had saved a good chunk of money through the years without your parents knowing, and it had paid off.

You then made a new account with Miguel's last name. A little victory for you. You then went to the customer service section to finish the whole thing.

The same man from before sat a few steps from you.

"Glad to see you're back, Mr. Kravinoff."

He smirked upon your eyes resting on him, studying and taking in his features. Learning his face.

Sergei Kravinoff, owner of the biggest exotic animal collection in town, millionaire, avid hunter and a businessman. He was always up to invest.

You were dispatched at the same time. Boots clicked after him. Jame's words of him being the one that Agustín was sold off to, rang in your head.

"Mr. Kravinoff?" You called and he turned to face you. Even though he was even more handsome up close, your mind was set into getting Agustín back.

You introduced yourself, and his pupils were blown for a second. Hand warm and delicate against his. Touch was just as he had imagined, the picture Rosaura had shown him didn't made you justice.

"Could we have a word?"

He nodded with enthusiasm. He gestured to one of the vacant near tables and sat across you.

"Thanks. I was told that you are familiar with Pastor William's business."

"Yes, I am. Why?"

"I'm aware that you had recently bought a horse from them."

Sergei's eyes widened softly at your words. Gossip sure spread fast. But what truly amused him, was you knowing the punctual details.

Little little town.

"I did, yes." His accent heavy as he leaned on to you.

"I'd like to buy that horse from you."

His mouth gaped softly at your words while blinking.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"I'd like to buy Agustín back from you, Mr. Kravinoff."

The way his name rolled off your tongue sent shivers down his spine.

"Oh? The horse had a name?"

"And an owner. Well, more like someone that rescued him."

"Ah, the friesian horse. May I know who this person was?"

"My husband, sir. Agustín was quite neglected and aggressive, he nearly injured the other horses. But my husband rehabilitated him."

"I see."

"Is... the horse sick?"

"No, I've kept him fed and groomed."

You smiled at his words. It sent a little jolt in his heart. You were married. And were set into buying an expensive horse from him as a gift. He wanted to put your patience and love to test.

"You must understand, Mrs...?"

"O'Hara."

A mental note to search him up later popped in Sergei's mind.

"Right. Mrs. O'Hara, you must understand that a friesian purebred is everything but cheap. I could sell a different and cheaper horse if you wish to-."

"No. I want Agustín."

Your spoiled side was slowly coming out, but it made him smile and his heart to beat at such determination.

"Whoever your husband is, must be a lucky man."

"I'm the lucky one. But, let's talk business."

"Twenty five grand. That's my price. I've had to invest in vitamins, a new trainer and new hooves."

"I see"

"If the price is too much I could-"

"No, no. Its fine. Could you send it over to our estate?"

Sergei chuckled, you didn't back down. In fact, you seemed thrilled. But he'd also have the chance to see what kind of husband you had married, that had you writing him a check for twenty five thousand. You were either too inlove or too spoiled to let that sum of money go without much thought.

"Of course."

You gave him a check, his fingers brushed on yours.

"Thanks." He tucked the check in and you stood. Baby bump in full display on him.

"How far are you?"

"Hm? Uh, I'm twelve weeks now."

"Are you excited?"

"Very."

You nodded with a beam.

"Mrs. O'Hara?"

"Yes?"

"The address. For the delivery."

"Oh! right. Sorry."

You scribbled your address in a piece of paper, his eyes didn't leave you. You were excited, happily married to another man he'd have the experience to meet.

He wanted to see who was the man that had snatched you from him. He'd definitely talk to Rosaura later. He wasn't one to be fooled, nor one to leave with empty hands after being promised something.

"There. Thanks for your time."

"Thanks to you, Mrs. O'Hara. "

He nodded with a smile to then watch you leave.

You were over the moon, your luck was on a hight tab today. Things had been rough back at home, and Miguel had been stressing over the littlest things. And to have the chance of getting Agustín back to make him smile, was a chance you weren't letting escape.

You returned to the estate. Marveling at what you were building alongside Miguel. Susprises didn't sit too well in your mouth cause as soon as you saw Miguel, you hugged him from behind and squealed.

"Mind to share what's gotten you like this?"

"I've got you a surprise."

"Do you?"

"Yes. But you will have to wait until tomorrow."

"Alright."

His arms secured around you. Nose tickled with a foreign smell. A man's cologne. His brows furrowed.

"Have I told you how much I'd love to take you right now? With that hat on?"

Your cheeks flushed deeply as you snorted.

"Like, right now now?"

"Missed you."

"I was gone for just a few hours."

"So? Am I not allowed to miss my wife?"

He carried you in his arms like your weight was nothing. In other times he'd throw you over his shoulder and walk away, but since his child was now growing inside, he was careful while carried you bridal style to your bedroom. Vicky only rolled her eyes with a tired smile.

"There is so much to do still, Miguel!"

"Ya regreso." (I'll be back)

His smile was childish, relaxed, and only you could provoke it.

"You haven't even got one kid yet and are already trying for more."

"You'll love them anyways, Ma."

Miguel mumbled with a chuckle before closing the door. He was set into making that scent to go away from you. The only smell he wanted to feel on you was your perfume, his, your sweat or his. To have another besides those, irked him.

Dinner came in a blur. Mary and Susan helped Vicky, her guard towards her was still up but less obvious. She showed them their duties. Susan would remain in the cleaning and crop area, Mary would help in the kitchen and with the animals feeding. Everyone had their new schedules, as everyone participated in different activities.

"Miss Rosaura always arranged dates for la patrona."

Mary attempted her best into not butchering the word, it was a catchy one. Cerecita was reserved only for Miguel and Vicky.

"But the horses always went crazy and they eventually stopped."

Susan giggled upon remembering the last date your mother made you go through. And how Luis ended up chasing away the man.

"That's sounds like Miguel's doing"

"It was."

You joined the conversation with a impish smile. Hair damp, freshly out the shower, just like Miguel that went to supervise the fence. The foreign smell no longer lingered in you.

"He told me that he had trained the horses to not allow anyone but him to ride them."

Vicky couldn't help but shake her head with a smile.

"Ese muchacho..." (That boy)

"Let's serve up."

You and nauseas had a rocky relationship, sometimes they were good and let you have a normal day, other times they were there to make sure you were annoyed enough to sour your mood, ending up in tears over the dumbest things.

Miguel sometimes was truly at lost on how to calm you or make you feel less uncomfortable. But Vicky always helped him out. Without her he'd be at lost on what to do regarding you.

So far she kept you and his baby healthy, even though thanking her was unavoidable, Vicky batted him away. She was as excited as you both were. Sometimes Miguel would talk through the day with Vicky, looking for names.

Only to end up laughing at the ridiculous names some people named their babies. You on the other hand seemed at ease.

"I wanna know what is it gonna be before breaking my head in looking for names."

You've told him, he couldn't wait to have his baby in his arms. Have his family complete, and his dream fulfilled at last.

Sometimes he felt the train of getting a family left him, the thirties were hard enough since he got people reminding him of getting himself one.

Unlike Gabriel, his mind was to settle down and have something he called his, instead of juggling between deciding or not to settle down. But what to do, Gabriel was still young barely passing the twenty seven. You were a year younger than him.

Your tears however made him snap his attention towards you.

"You okay, mi amor?"

"I can't tie my shoes."

He couldn't help but snort at your words while kissing your forehead.

"Let me help you with that."

He put your boots and laced them up to then kiss you and wipe your eyes.

"Better?"

You nodded in between hiccups.

"Let's get you some food."

Morning wasn't as hectic as it used to be, ever since Susan, Mary and James arrived the work load had been evenly distributed. Mostly to be a bit more lenient on you.

The orchard was flourishing, the first herbs were sprouting, and the cattle was on the weekly checkup.

You went to greet Miguel, and Paco called you to the entrance.

"Miss? There is a man looking for you."

"A man? Oh! Right! Let him in."

Paco looked at Miguel that nodded at him, he was already crossing his arms.

"Cerecita?"

"Yes?" Your smile turned wider upon seeing the horse car, passing through the luxurious car leading the small caravan.

"What did you do?"

You giggled and kissed his cheek.

"Your surprise."

"My... My surprise?"

You nodded and pulled him by the hand towards the car. Sergei stepped out, just as his helpers, eyes scrutinizing the place, it'd make a perfect hidden spot he'd use to get away from everything. His attention focused on you once more. The same cologne his nose detected on you, was now impregnated on him.

But Miguel’s eyes forced his eyes to focus on him. Sergei couldn't hide the surprise on his face, he was tall, but your husband taller, beefier and meaner looking.

And for you to handle him like putty made him chuckle. But what man wouldn't fall under your sweetness? Or at least be tempted enough to fall?

Miguel loomed behind you, like a shadow, hands on both of your shoulders, his golden ring shining a bit too bright for Sergei's likings. But this was not his territory, and the man behind you wouldn't hesitate to put him in his place if needed.

"Mrs. O'Hara."

He greeted with a brief and polite nod, along a smile that didn't set right in Miguel's eyes.

"Mr. Kravinoff."

"Please, call me Sergei."

"Right. This is my husband, Miguel."

The handshake was a terrible display of subtleness between both. Miguel had to give the man credit for squeezing as hard as he was. Eyes locked on eachother for a second, devoid of emotion, even though Sergei understood he wasn't the boss, he didn't let Miguel intimidate him.

"A pleasure to meet you at last, Mr. O'Hara."

Miguel nodded and let his hand go.

"I must say, your wife and her offer took me by surprise. But now, I understand the why."

Sergei smiled, a bit of defeat etched in his face but he quickly turned away and motioned both to follow him. Once more you pulled Miguel closer and guided him to face his surprise.

Sergei's helpers pulled with utmost care the ever familiar horse. The reason why you both had met in the first place. Agustín.

Sergei watched you and Miguel from the shadow the car offered and so far he hadn't find anything that dictated you were unhappy. All the opposite, your moonstruck look over the gigantic man just deepened until it morphed into a dashing beam upon seeing his reaction.

Miguel's expression was something he couldn't compete with. He looked genuinely surprised, and he was unable to resist the urge to kiss you, nearly knocking your hat off your pretty head.

And your laugh at seeing your husband happy, had the millionaire casting his eyes down. He was no match for the man right next to you. Even the horse seemed to like him a bit too much. While Agustín had given him cooperation, he didn't go past that. But with Miguel, there was a bond. A precedent, and it showed as the stallion flared and pawed at the floor as soon as Miguel touched him.

All thanks to you. His wife.

Big arms held you so gently and lovingly as he kissed your temple and your heart was melting. You loved eachother, only fools would think otherwise.

Sergei delivered a little presentation card to you, which Miguel took a peek from.

"Are you satisfied, Mrs. O'Hara?"

"Pretty much. Thanks. Thanks for keeping Agustín in great conditions."

"Any animal that goes under my care is treated with respect. As it should."

You smiled at Sergei's words.

"If it's alright, I'd like to give you something."

His eyes looked at Miguel, asking for permission to grant you something else.

"What is it?"

Miguel spoke. His voice deep and borderline raspy.

"Relax, husband." He chuckled while another horse was pulled away from the carriage. A pinto friesian mare.

"You see, since Agustín came under my wing, he took a like to Nina."

The mare immediately trotted over Agustín's side giving a little neigh.

"Oh, but... I only paid for Agustín, Sergei."

Miguel couldn't help but harden his features over his name and the underlying intentions behind his actions.

"I know. But it's a gift. You see, Agustín had been under alot of stress, new place, new routine, and having him separated from Nina would definitely cause a setback into his progress."

"You seem to know alot about animal behaviors, Mr. Kravinoff."

Miguel's tone wasn't mocking or derisive, a bit jealous perhaps but also curious and cautious.

"I'm a collector, sir. And a hunter. Understanding them must be a must for me. Besides, Nina is foaling."

"I see."

"And also, a potential investor if you're willing."

"Property is not on sale."

"Sorry if my words have offended you, but no. Even though is tempting, I can tell it holds unmeasurable value for you. I respect that."

You hand rubbed on Miguel's lower back, appeasing his rising temper.

"I'm always for the look in business, cattle and horses are my specialty. I will recommend your training services to my friends, if you allow me."

"That would be great, new contacts are always welcomed."

Your chirped as the mare nuzzled your hand. Joseph and James took the horses to the stable.

Sergei shook hands with you and Miguel, and once he left he cupped your cheeks to give you a breathtaking kiss that had you panting and gasping for air.

"You..."

"Me?"

You giggled and kissed again.

"How... much you paid for Agustín, Cerecita?"

"I won't tell. Just needed to get him back for you."

"It's not that I'm not being grateful, but-"

"I know they're not cheap, Miguel. But I wanted to, ok?"

"Don't splurge your money on me, Mi reina."

"You kidding, right?, I know you aren't that comfortable in me splurging. I know things have changed. But I wanted to."

"I'm not mad, ok? I am not angry, just-"

"What?"

"How come you approached him first?"

You couldn't help but giggle, he frowned even though you kissed his cheek.

"Are you jealous?"

"No"

"You're a terrible liar, Miguel."

You smooched him

"I could smell him on you."

"Ah yeah, his cologne was killing me. Had to retch as soon as I saw a bathroom"

He chuckled and fixed the hat on your head.

"I approached him cause James told us his name, and of course I wouldn't let a chance to get Agustín back go. He's your horse."

"An expensive horse, that is"

"But yours again, completely. It's my wedding gift."

He squeezed you in his arms and showered your face with kisses.

"Canija. No sabes cuanto te amo." (You imp, you don't know how much I love you.)

"I think I do have an idea."

"Let me show you."

Sergei steps were heavy the more he ventured in your parent's home. Rosaura's smile faded upon watching his sour expression.

"You never told me your daughter was already married and pregnant, Mrs. Anderton."

Rosaura's eyes widened in discomfort, unable to hold the lie anymore.

"W-What do you mean. She's-"

"I don't like liars."

"Where did you see her?"

"At the bank. Bought me the horse you sold me."

"That brat."

"Brat?" His brows raised on the term, "I saw nothing but a happy couple back there."

"You went to their home?!"

"Why do I feel you're not giving me a true complete picture of what is going on?"

"Sergei, son. Look. That man she is married to used to work here. He was the stable boy. He seduced my daughter and stole her away from-"

Sergei's hand halted her from speaking further.

"I think I will do business elsewhere, Mrs. Anderton. I like my business partners to be sincere in all sense of the word."

"Just give me time, Sergei , I promise to bring her back-"

"It's Mr. Kravinoff for you, madam. And my decision is final. Will communicate with your husband later. Have a good day."

Despite Rosaura's protest, Sergei left. Leaving a fuming and fearful mother behind. She was in trouble with Pastor William. Business were to not messed up, yet she had. Their best client gone.

But you, oh how you infuriated her and made her blood boil.

You had splurged on Miguel. A man you had called your husband. A man that belonged to a family that forced hers to move out from their rightful home a long time ago back in the outskirts of Nueva York.

A family that had stripped her from everything she held dear. Everything under the influence of George O'Hara.

And now his step son had taken you away.

If George was no longer alive to withstand her revenge, someone had to pay. And she decided that Miguel would.

He would pay for the sins of his father. Whether he like it or not.

#miguel o'hara #t writes✨#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #atsv miguel #miguel o'hara fluff #Ranchero! Miguel #miguel spiderman #spider man 2099 x reader #spiderman 2099 fanfiction #Mi Dulce Cereza #Ranch girl! reader #Spotify

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its-time-to-write · 6 months

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for anyone else who needs comfort in the form of a sick fic. but written specially for @coloursofyen🩵

there for you

Jamie’s alarm goes off at precisely 3:26am, which is what he says is the optimal time to wake up for training with Roy. He rolls over and feels for your warm body on the other side of the bed, frowning when he feels nothing but the cold covers next to him. You’ve been out of bed for a while, then.

He sits up, and as he wipes the sleep from his eyes he notices a light coming from the en suite. Jamie hops out of bed and taps on the door.

“Babe? You alright?” he asks.

He’s met by a retching sound so he pushes open the door to find you kneeling in front of the toilet. Sweat makes strands of hair stick to your face, and your face is unnaturally pale. You blink blearily at him as he sits against the doorframe.

“I think I have a stomach bug,” you croak.

Jamie’s unable to stop a grin. “What makes you think that?”

You’re too tired and nauseous to flip him off. You’ve been awake for more than an hour, thinking first it might be something you ate.

Then you remembered one of your coworkers called out sick earlier in the week, followed by your supervisor two days later. Seems like it’s your turn now.

You manage to get out, “It’s going around the office,” before turning your face back to the bowl.

Jamie makes a sympathetic face and moves to rub your back.

“I’m gonna get you some water, babe. You want anything else? Crackers? Toast? I think we have shit for soup later today, if you think you can keep it down,” he says.

“Roy,” you say, sticking to easy words.

Jamie gently pats your back. “Nah, don’t worry about him. He’ll be glad to have the morning off.”

“You have a match on Sunday,” you remind him. “You can’t catch this.”

Jamie disregards this and presses a kiss to the side of your head. “The lads’ll be fine without me. Give some second-teamer a chance to be on the pitch. Besides, it’s against Bournemouth.”

You make a face. Bournemouth is at the bottom of the league, and at the moment a match against them is essentially free points.

“It feels awful,” you rasp.

Jamie readjusts his position on the floor. “Babe, I’m a fucking… specimen. I’m like, so fucking healthy that viruses bounce right off me. I’m not gonna catch it.”

You shake your head and retch again. That’s what you had thought.

“Let me text Coach,” Jamie says. “I’ll sit here as longs as you need, or I can grab a bowl so you can go back to bed. Actually, let’s go to the guest room while I change the sheets in here, yeah? All hygienic, like. I can make mum’s special soup, think we’ve got everything for it. Can order it if not. Just don’t worry about it, alright? Your body’s a temple, or whatever fucking Lasso says.”

You crack a half-smile at that. For as much as Jamie loves football, he loves you more. Only slightly more, but you’ll take it.

He says, “Come on, up you get,” and half-lifts you to a standing position. Once you’re settled in the guest bed with the tv on and a lime soda, he heads downstairs to figure out what you might be able to eat. He ends up bringing you toast, a banana, and a sleeve of crackers, then getting into bed next to you.

“Sheets are in the wash,” he says.

“Don’t get too close to me,” you warn. “You’re going to catch this fucking bug.”

“Won’t,” he responds smugly.

“Will,” you argue.

“Won’t,” he repeats with such confidence that you wish Roy were still coming over to smack him down a little bit.

Will, you silently mouth.

—

That fucker doesn’t even get so much as a sneeze.

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt #ted lasso

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deathbecomesthem · 5 months

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Roomies 4 +18 ONLY

Eddie Munson x Best Friend Reader | 2.2K - Previous Part

*This series will/does contain smut, angst, and fluff. Each chapter will have its own warnings for any potential triggering contents.

This chapter contains some angsty feelings. The aftermath of some interesting choices between best friends.

---

The alarm is unnecessary. You didn’t sleep. You laid in this bed and let the dread build. At 3:28 in the morning, you put your vibrator back in its spot in the top drawer of your bedside table. It just laid next to you for hours, as if acknowledging it meant you had to acknowledge the fact that you and Eddie… what exactly? You don’t even know. It’s Eddie.

It doesn’t matter right now, because that alarm means you have to get up and take a shower. It means you have to get to the coffee shop and start the mundane tasks involved in over-caffeinating the general college town population. It means you can sneak out of this tiny, two-bedroom apartment before Eddie even wakes up. Thank god for the opening shift.

Except that you hear the distinct sound of the door next to your own open at exactly the same moment yours creaks open. Time stands still, both of you stare at each other like deer caught in headlights. Neither fight nor flight, only freeze. And then you realize you’re dressed in a too small bath towel and nothing else.

“Oh shit, I’m sorry,” you crouch a little, trying to get more coverage from the faded blue terry cloth rectangle you have wrapped around your center, “I thought you’d be sleeping. I’m sorry.”

Eddie averts his eyes after making a clean sweep from your head to your toes, and sighs, “shit, I’m sorry. I just need to take a leak. Uh, can I do that before you get in there?” Eddie’s eyes are focused on a small water spot on the ceiling waiting for your answer. The nightlight in the hallway outlet is the only illumination, but plenty to see the way the apples of his cheeks are turning tomato red.

“Yeah, I’ll wait in here,” you rush back to your room and close the door a little too hard and cringe away from it. The time spent sitting cold and naked on the edge of your bed is plenty to consider the regrets. Eddie’s seen you in your bikini, which leaves less to the imagination than the towel, but things are different.

“All clear. Have fun!” Eddie’s voice calls through the door at you, and you can imagine the grimace on his face at his own words. “Sorry, I’m just gonna go back to bed now.” You wait in your spot until you hear his heavy footsteps move past your door, and the sound of his door closing.

What the fuck did I do. I ruined everything, that’s what I did. This is the first time you think this today, but it will be the mantra that echoes in your mind over and over. What the fuck did I do?

—

Dry skim milk cappuccino, breve latte, dirty chai, black eye. The drinks don’t stop coming for hours, and you're happy to shut off your mind while you make the espresso machine perform for you. You ignore the way your hands tremble, over caffeinated and under rested, they still move and answer your requests without fail. Muscle memory, what a gift.

“You taking your break?” Megan points to the clock behind your head. You’ve been standing at the barista station for 4 hours, and you’ve only got 2 left for the day. You consider pushing through to the end, but can already hear your manager’s voice reprimanding you when she looks at your timecard.

“Yeah, I’ll be back in 30.” You wipe the frothing wand and rinse out the portafilters before heading to the food station for a bowl of chicken soup and a half of a stale mini baguette. Whole wheat and hard as a rock. The table in the corner is empty, so you make a bee line, grabbing a discarded campus newspaper on your way.

You tick down stray answers in the crossword while dipping, letting the bread soak up the broth from your soup when the next page catches your eye. The classifieds. Apartment rentals. It can’t hurt to look, you think. You’d never leave Eddie in a lurch, but what if you could find something next month, let him find someone to replace you. He’d be better off anyway. He’s too sweet to say it, but it’s true.

You ignore the small voice in the back of your mind that’s yelling, this is what you always do. You run away and miss out on good things because you get scared. But you’re not just scared, you’re humiliated. A part of you thought that your little display last night would end with Eddie in your bed. That he’d know instinctively that you want him, and he’d answer your call without you having to actually say anything.

Stupid, stupid, stupid child.

Looking for a female roommate, no pets, 3 bedroom apartment, $175/month. You circle that one. Close to campus, nonsmoking, one bedroom unit, $250/month. A little out of your price range, but you circle it anyway.

By the end of your lunch break you’ve got 6 leads on available apartments, a half eaten soggy baguette, and a bottomless pit of regret in your stomach.

—

Eddie slept, but was plagued with dreams of your smiling face. That’s all that he can remember - your face accompanied by a deep longing to reach out and touch your skin. He never could, he just kept seeing and wanting, but never reaching. When he woke up for work at 11:00 in the morning, you were sitting in that corner booth at the coffee shop looking for apartments. It would break his heart to know that.

But he doesn’t know that. He knows that he fucked up last night, even if it’s not clear how. Or why. Or what happened. If something happened. Did something happen, or did he just imagine it? Fuck this fucking noise. His mind is too busy, and it’s not saying anything that makes sense. He wants to sit down and talk with his best friend about it. Let them help make sense of things. He wants to sit with you, his head resting in your lap while you run your fingers through his hair, and tell him he’s thinking about it all wrong. He’s overthinking. It’s not as bad as he thinks.

The fact that he can’t talk to you right now means it is that bad, but he it’s useless to wallow. His work shift at the bar located beneath the hardwood floorboards of your shared apartment ends early. He’s going in before opening to do some handyman work in the bathrooms, and the prep work for the evening crew. He takes the opportunity to not work until 3:00 a.m. whenever he can, especially when Marty offers to pay him cash under the table for his troubles. It also means he can go to the good grocery store, the one that isn’t the shitty 24 hour foodmart that’s the only open joint in the tri county area at 3:30 in the morning. The peanut butter is low, and he wants to grab a can of Maxwell House - a part of him thinks he insists on keeping it in the house just to get under your skin. No Kenya AA or Brazilian Peaberry for Eddie Munson.

So, he does his work and lets his mind leave him for the hours he snakes, caulks, screws, scrubs, chops, and peels. He works in the peaceful silence of the still slumbering college town bar, and walks out several hours later with a handful of cash and grease jammed under his fingernails. The echo of your voice saying his name, Eddie!, at the height of your pleasure the night before only made his feet stumble a few times. He can let it get quieter and quieter. He can let himself forget it. What he can’t do is let one night of stupid behavior ruin something the two of you have spent over a decade building. Pussy comes, and pussy goes - but you are forever.

Pussy comes and pussy goes. He thinks again to himself. He ignores what that small voice in his head adds, but what he wouldn’t give to be able to touch you and make you his.

—

You finally come home at 5:00. It’s much later than you should be going back to the apartment. You spent the interim hours wandering the streets of downtown looking for any “For Rent” signs displayed in apartment windows. You wasted time in the used book store, running your fingers along the spines of the Science Fiction paperbacks. You sat in the arm chair in the back of the shop and looked at the battered collection of Baby-Sitter’s Club books while your eyes grew heavy. And then you decided that the only thing left to do was face the music. Of all days for Eddie to not be closing down the bar.

Eddie’s in the shower. When you open the door to the apartment, you can hear the faint sound of water running from behind the closed bathroom door. A vision of wet curls and rivulets of water running down sharp shoulder blades invades your mind for a split second, but you will it away with a sharp shake of your head. You’re tired, and you think you might be able to get away with a long evening nap that can turn into a night spent alone in your bedroom without any complaints from Eddie. Maybe.

You spot the note as you’re hanging up your purse. It sits on the small kitchen table, red ink impossible for you to miss, in that scrawling chicken scratch that’s so familiar.

Not sure when you’ll be home, and if I’ll be around. I ran to the grocery store earlier. I got that wine you like and grabbed a couple of cannoli. You can have 2 of them. Just 2. I swear to god, if you eat my cannoli, I will hunt you down. There’s some de-icer on the counter, since you’re incapable of getting it yourself. I grabbed your library loans while I was out. We can grab some dinner tonight if you’re up for it.

-E

You stand holding the paper in your hand for a long time. You don’t know how long. You see the bottle of Malbec sitting on the far end of the counter next to a yellow spray bottle of de-icer. You don’t notice that the sound of the water coming from behind the bathroom door has stopped. You’re lost. Overwhelmed. You think about the time you spent furiously looking for an apartment. You think about how badly you wanted to run away - from what? From this? From Eddie? How could you ever want to run from him?

You’re still staring at his sloppily written words while you drift down the hallway. You don’t even hear the sound of the bathroom door open. When you glance up, you see Eddie. The man that bought you treats today. The man that has stepped between you and flying fists. The man that offered you a home when you didn’t have one.

In the 5 seconds you look at him, your eyes see more than should be possible. His wet curls cling to his shoulders, drops of water traveling from their tips down his chest. Black ink and splatterings of freckles and moles. The towel, too small - just like your own - sits low enough on his hips that your eyes can travel along his happy trail and into that meadow of abundant wiry hair peeking out. His feet, long and flat, stay planted in their spot. He waits for you to look away, but his eyes stay fixed to your face. His chest does not flush, he does not attempt to hide himself.

When your eyes finally flick to the wall, Eddie makes his way towards you. You’re frozen in your spot, but your mind is racing. He’s going to come to me. He’s going to let me touch him. You think about kissing his chest, letting your tongue catch the stray drops of water left behind by the showerhead. But Eddie moves beside you, he passes you by. You can smell Irish Spring and tap water. Your shaking hand reaches for the door handle.

“So, what do you think? Dinner?” Eddie’s standing at his door, a wide smile on his face. Your favorite smile. “Unless you’ve got a hot date or something?” He twists the knob, but doesn’t move to go into his room, waiting for your answer.

Nothing is the same, but everything is the same. From here on out, the only way this will work is utilizing double-thought. Letting two things be true at one time. Eddie is your best friend. Eddie is a man that your whole body aches for. These are two true things that matter, but one of those truths can only exist in the darkness of your bedroom. One of those things can only be acknowledged when you’re alone for fear of ruining the most important thing in your life.

“Sure, Ed. Chinese and cannoli. Roll a couple of joints.”

#eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #eddie munson imagine

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yoyokslut · 1 month

Text

In sickness.

a/n: last week I had an unbelievably hard headache I felt MISERABLE so I imagined how would it be like to be taken care of by mase, so here it is :) it's short but I hope you like it!

‌He'd be the GENTLEST boyfriend EVER

‌He'd rub your back slowly trying to help you sleep

‌He would massage your head carefully trying to make the pain go away

‌"How are you feeling, baby?" "Need more water?" "I know you don't feel like eating but please do it, even if it's a little. C'mon I'll feed you, sweetie."

‌Constantly checking up on you

‌Would run baths for you and help you

‌"Mase, I can do it myself, I'm feeling better," "Nonsense, baby, let me take care of you. Nothing but princess treatment for you,"

‌"I'll be your nurse for the rest of the week, no questions asked,"

‌He'd make you soup, or if you're not in the mood for it, he'd go to the store and buy you light snacks

‌You're feeling guilty because you made him skip his training? He'd make sure to remind you you're his priority

‌"I'm sorry you had to stay here today," you said pouting "Don't be silly, baby, I love you and I wanna make sure you're alright, no job is gonna be more important than you,"

‌His attention is just for you 24/7

‌He's just so caring and tender with you because he's afraid of doing something it might cause you pain and sees as something so fragile it could break if he does something wrong

‌He just wants his baby to be okay again

#mason mount #mason x reader #mason mount x reader #mason mount blurb #mason mount imagine #mason mount fluff #mason mount headcanon #mason mount x you #mason mount x y/n

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vxntagedior · 1 year

Note

I have a request for a Xavier Thorpe one-shot. Could you write one where the reader is on their period and Xavier comforts them/makes them feel better. Only if you're comfortable with writing that of course

caretaker

summary | xavier helps you feel as comfortable as you can during your period

pairing | xavier thorpe x fem!reader

warning | fluff, periods, hurt/comfort?, mentions of sex

word count | 0.9k

Pulling your head out of the blankets, you practically were glaring at the door. “Enid, I told you I’m fine, I don’t need anymore chocolate.”

Satisfied, you started to lay back down before you heard someone knocking on the door again.

“Enid, did you not-” Frustrated, you started to make your way to the door, swinging it open.

“Hi.” Xavier said sheepishly, “Enid told me you weren’t feeling well, so I brought you soup and medicine.”

Bless his heart, Xavier was always a caring boyfriend, putting his needs before yours making sure you were always okay.

“Xavi.” You sighed softly, trying not to laugh, “I’m not feeling well, but I’m not sick.”

“You're not,” You could see the gears turning in his head, “She said that you had a headache and bad cramps and -oh.”

The realization finally occurred and Xavier shifted awkwardly, “Sorry, but I still have food, and we can cuddle.”

“You don’t have to do that.” You said, “I don’t think you want to spend your Saturday in bed all day.”

“I get to spend my Saturday with you.” He reiterated, “Now are you gonna let me inside?”

Opening the door, further, Xavier walked in, setting down the meds and soup on your desk. Crawling back into your bed, you opened your arms towards him, making grabby hands.

“You need to eat first.” Xavier said.

“No, cuddles.” You insisted, “You have to be nice to me today.”

Rolling his eyes, Xavier obliged to your words, getting under the covers with you. It was a tight fit in the twin bed, the two of you practically on top of each other.

Since being together, You made it known to Xavier that he was a space heater, and using him to his advantage, his hand was placed right above your abdomen, acting as your hot water bottle.

“Have you taken any medicine this morning?” He asked, his arm wrapped around your shoulder, twirling a piece of your hair that had fallen down.

“No.” you whispered, “I got up to go to the bathroom and went right back to bed.”

Leaning up from under the bed, he leaned over to grab your water and some of the advil he brought earlier, “Drink.”

Sitting up, you took the meds and water, swallowing them down.

Xavier was already out of bed, starting to prepare your soup. “X, you said we were gonna cuddle.”

“You need to eat now.” He insisted, “It’s gonna be better for the meds.”

You just sighed, leaning against your headboard, watching as he made your way around the room before coming back over to you.

“Feed it to me?” You asked hopefully. He just smiled, sitting on the edge of your bed. You were just milking it now, but Xavier didn’t seem to mind.

Feeding spoonsful of soup, occasionally wiping up some that slipped from your lips. Seeing his lips so close to your lips, you pucker your lips, kissing the pad of his thumb.

“You need to eat.” He tilted his chin down, “We’re not going there.”

You just huffed, leaning against the bedframe, “You’re no fun, first you won’t cuddle and make me eat and now you don’t have wanna have sex.”

Xavier tried not to laugh knowing that your hormones were messing with your emotions.

“I know baby, I’m such a bad boyfriend.�� He said sincerely, “Wanting to make you feel better.”

Hearing Xavier call himself a bad boyfriend made you tear up slightly, “Didn’t mean that.”

“I know.” He said, pressing a kiss to your forehead, “Do you finish the soup or save it for later.”

“I’ll finish it.” You decided, there wasn’t much left anyways. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Finishing the soup, Xavier cleaned up before coming back in bed with you, the two of you laying back down together. You let Xavier talk, always finding his voice soothing, your head rested on his chest, breathing softly.

It wasn’t long before you fell asleep, Xavier little snores coming from you as he talked. Looking down, your eyes closed, your breathing before deeper, snuggling against him.

Taking a nap sounded nice to him, adjusting the two of you without waking you so he felt more comfortable to fall asleep. His arm was still wrapped around you, pulling you in him closer, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head.

You felt your eyes flutter, opening your eyes, blinking rapidly adjusting to the light, looking up to Xavier to see that he was still sleeping.

Getting out of bed as quietly as you could without waking him, you made your way into your bathroom to freshen up. Coming out, you didn't wake up.

“Go back to bed.” You whispered, slipping back under the covers.

“I’m already up, couldn’t really sleep with you snoring.” He snorted. You gasped, looking at him offended.

“I do not snore.” You pointed a finger at you, “That was you.”

“You sure?” You saw the playful glint in his eyes, before tackling you. Laughing, you tried to pull his hands as the two of you started to play wrestle. Finally getting the upper hand, you were able to flip the two of you over, with you on top of him.

“Got ya.” You smirked, pinning his hands above his head. Your faces were inches apart, your nose touching his, lips ghosting his. Just as Xavier was about to lean towards you, you pulled apart before settling back in bed.

“What the fuck!” He said frustrated, adjusting his pants before coming towards you.

“You said it yourself, Xavi, no sex.” You giggled, “Now cuddles.”

“Woman, you are insufferable.” He whispered.

fin.

#xavier thorpe x reader #xavier thorpe x fem!reader #xavier thorpe x girlfriend!reader #xavier thorpe #wednesday #xavier thorpe fluff #xavier thorpe one shot #xavier thorpe imagine

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timetoletmyimaginationfly · 6 months

Text

Sick

Nanami Kento x Reader

You woke up, groggier than usual. You hit the snooze button of your alarm and hugged your pillow tightly against your chest.

“Darling. You’re gonna be late,” Nanami said. You weakly grunted, curling yourself more into a ball under the covers. “Darling?” You felt Nanami sit on the edge of the bed. Once his hands brushed your hair back, you felt his large palm cover your forehead. “Baby, you’re on fire.”

“No I’m not…” you tiredly replied and turned away from your worried fiancé. Nanami sighed. He left the room only to quickly return with a thermometer. He turned you on your back and slowly placed it under your tongue. As slowly as he moved you, you still groaned from the movement. The thermometer beeped and Nanami immediately pulled it out.

“102.4,” he said and placed it on the nightstand. Nanami lied down next to you and held you tightly. You weakly smiled, snuggling into his chest.

“Stay home with me,” you said tiredly. “I have to call Yaga and tell him I can’t be there today.”

“Okay, my love.” He kissed your forehead softly.

“No, don’t stay. I’m being selfish. Yuji and Ino were excited to train with you,” you said. You opened your eyes and you watched him shake his head. “I’ll be okay. I promise.” Nanami sighed. He did promise to spend time with them.

“I won’t be gone for too long,” he said. He checked the time. He had to get ready now if he was going to meet up with them on time. “Let me go get ready.”

Nanami prepared everything for you. He made sure your heated blanket was nearby and plugged in. He brought over the case of water bottles next to the bed. He picked out a selection of medicines for you take whenever you need it. He even heated up some soup and placed it on the night table.

“Kento-kun…” You thought he was going overboard but it always brought butterflies to your stomach with his kind actions. “Thank you.”

“Call me if you need anything,” he said and kissed your forehead. “I’ll be home in a flash.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

Yuji and Ino noticed Nanami’s change in behavior. He was more distracted today. He was more passive and vague with his comments. Nanami just wasn’t being Nanami.

“Nanamin, what’s wrong?” Yuji asked.

“Is your girl okay?” Ino asked.

“She’s sick,” he said.

“Eh?!”

“That’s why she isn’t here,” Ino added. Nanami nodded.

“You can go and take care of her, Nanamin,” Yuji said.

“Yeah! I’ll train my underclassman!” Ino said excitedly. Nanami couldn’t help but give them a smile.

“Thanks,” he said and quickly called one of the assistant managers to pick him up.

Nanami Kento, the man who loves spoiling you with everything, stopped at the flower shop and then the store to buy you candy. When he returned back home, the house was quiet with the faint sounds of the TV on. He walked inside the living room. He softly smiled to see you sleeping on the couch. You had moved everything over. You changed into one of his T-shirts, so he knew you had taken a shower. He walked inside the kitchen and quietly assorted the flowers in the vase and placed the candy bars next to it. He walked towards your sleeping body and gently placed his hand on your forehead and then cheek. He felt relieved that you weren’t as hot from this morning.

“K-Kento-kun,” you mumbled and slowly opened your eyes. You immediately sat up. “I slept for so long! I didn’t start dinner or—“

“Darling,” Nanami interrupted. “It’s okay. I left early, the kids told me to go.”

“They’re too good to you,” you said with a smile. You looked around and your smile became wider. “For me?” You noticed the flowers on the counter.

“For you, my love. I even bought you candy bars.”

“You’re too sweet, Kento-kun.” You felt as if you were ten times better already.

“Now, lay down and rest,” he said. “I’ll make some porridge.”

“And miso soup.” Nanami let out a small laugh and kissed your forehead.

“Anything for my sick lady.”

#cute #fluff #jjk #jjk kento #jjk nanami #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen nanami #jujutsu nanami #nanami #nanami fluff #nanami fanfic #nanamin #nanami x reader #nanami x you #nanami kento #kento nanami #kento x reader #kento x y/n

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disneyprincemuke · 4 months

Text

in sickness and in health

alternatively: he can't just stay away from her just because she's sick

in which she's down with the flu and while she's locked herself away to contain the virus, her boyfriend simply refuses to stay away for too long

(series masterlist)

she pulls the blanket around her shoulders tighter, one hand pressed against her neck for warmth. she coughs, shuddering afterwards from the sheer coldness her fever and surroundings brought her.

she hears the door creak open. she pulls the blanket down slightly. “logan, i told you not to come in. i’m still sick. i could pass it on to you.”

“calm down,” he laughs. he closes the door and turns on the lights, showcasing the younger girl coddled up in her bed with a pillow on her face. “i came to bring you food. you haven’t eaten all day.”

“i’m not hungry,” she whispers, pulling the blanket over her face again. “i don’t want to get you sick.”

“doesn’t matter. i don’t have anywhere important to be for a couple of days.” the bed dips down, inching her towards the end of the bed.

logan pulls the blanket down to reveal her face, a tissue shoved up her nose and a cooling patch stuck to her forehead. if he could take a picture and frame this sight in his bedroom, he would.

but she’s far too sick and agitated to be pissed off with his antics.

“don’t you look lovely today, babe?” he teases with a small smile, tilting his head.

she doesn’t have a lot of energy, but she musters up just enough to shove logan roughly, causing him to lose his balance and almost fall off her bed. “you’re such a dick!”

“i’m joking!” he removes the pillow resting on her head and tears off the cooling patch. “i got you a new patch. and also food and meds! you should be better by tomorrow.”

“not meds,” she whines, scrunching her nose. “you’re gonna tell me you got some nasty tasting cough syrup for me to consume?”

logan simply shrugs. “yes, of course. how else do you expect to recover?”

“anything but cough syrup, please.” she clasps her hands together, closing her eyes to try and change his mind. “find something not as disgusting as cough syrup. logan, please.”

“i got you ice cream to help with the taste,” he beams. “but you only get a spoonful. you’re not even supposed to be eating ice cream.”

“aw, you got me ice cream?” she pouts her bottom lip out as she tries to get herself up to sit up. “vanilla ice cream?”

his arms dart out to help her sit up, moving pillows and stuffed toys behind her. “yes. and i also made you some soup.”

“you cooked for me? you shouldn’t have.” she watches him lay the foldable table on the empty half of the bed, with a cup of water and a bowl of ice cream neatly put together for her. “you really shouldn’t stay too long. i don’t want you getting sick.”

“is it such a crime i spend time with my girlfriend while she has a tissue up her nose?”

she quickly removes the tissue from her nose, throwing it into the bin next to her bed. “you are so mean to me!”

“why’d you do that? you looked so cute!” he laughs, hands pointing towards the bin. “get another tissue!”

“stop making fun of me!”

“i’m not making fun of you. i just wanted to see you smile!”

“your definition must mean different from mine.”

“okay, i’m sorry,” he giggles, crawling to the empty spot next to her. “do you want to watch something while you eat? we can watch ‘new girl’ again if you’d like.”

she turns to him with sparkling eyes. “i thought you didn’t really like that show.”

“yeah, but you’re sick,” he grins, throwing an arm over her shoulder to pull her in. he presses a gentle kiss to her temple. “and i miss you. it’s very quiet when you’ve practically locked yourself up in here.”

“babe,” she whines, removing his arms from her. “i will get you sick. you should really just stay outside and be with the kids.”

he reaches forward and pulls the foldable table towards them, resting it over his thighs. “what’s the worst that could happen?”

— bonus

she puts the cooling patch on his forehead, sitting on the edge of his bed. “i told you.”

logan, blankets up to his shoulders, stares at her blankly. it’s already enough that he’s contracted whatever virus she had from three days ago. “yeah, shut up.”

“you should’ve seriously listened to me,” she giggles, fluffing up the pillow he lies on. “do you want anything to drink? to eat?”

“stay here with me.” he grabs her arm, yanking her down into the empty spot next to him. “don’t go anywhere, just lie right there.”

“alright. what the sick boy wants, the sick boy gets.”

“you don’t think i’ll get you sick again, right?”

“who cares? it’s just us two, anyway.”

taglist: @myxticmoon

#logan sargeant #logan sargeant x reader #logan sargeant x you #female driver #fem!driver #f1 female driver #f1 x you #f1 #disneyprincemuke #disneyprincemuke imagine #disneyprincemuke imagines #disneyprincemuke f1 #disneyprincemuke ial

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theidiotwhowritesthings · 7 months

Note

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.”

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