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southernbelllle · 2 months ago

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Cuddling with the guys??

Cuddling With Miller's Squad

Including: Miller, Horvath, Reiben, Mellish, Jackson, and Wade. Caparzo and Upham will be in part 2!

Warnings: Wade's gets pretty heated, but nothing too crazy.

AN: Hey so I had so much fun writing these. Like a blast. Thank you for requesting this anon!!! They are the men ever!!!!

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Miller

Birds twittered and sung outside of your bedroom window. The morning was quiet and slow; a pace of life Miller had grown to miss during his line of work.

You were still asleep, the serene of the morning still lightly blanketing your eyelids together. Gently, you breathed in the morning in even breaths. Still completely unaware of the morning sunshine shining through the glass pane and onto the side of your face.

Your husband, however, held the opposite point of view. Miller laid to your right atop your shared bed, taking in the golden scene of peace that slept in front of him.

He brought a lazy finger to a limp lock of your hair resting along the bridge of your nose and brought it behind your ear. There you were. He felt the corners of his mouth curl into a groggy smile. He hopped that you remained sleeping for just a little while longer, just long enough so that his reality could set in, the reality that he made it home to you. There had been so many times where he was sure he wouldn't have, but fate had other plans.

And thankfully so, because the only Heaven that existed to him, he was already in.

While you were still under the deep blanket of morning slumber, your husband brought you closer to him in a careful hug. He planted tiny, tender kisses to the nape of your neck when he settled you against him.

As he held you close, he closed his eyes and allowed your scent to lull him back into a dreamless sleep. Devoid of the terror and the hardship, the men he'd lost and the men who'd lost him, any tremors or tremblings, and simply just slept.

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Horvath

It was the coldest November recorded. It was rainy, too. Sad overcast clouds hung damply over the street your suburban house sat on.

Shivering, you retreated to your bed for a mid-day nap. There simply wasn't anything else to do. So, you untucked the corners of your previously taught sheet of your made bed, and climbed back in.

The atmosphere in the room was grey and smelled of a light mix of Lavendar and sage. A small wax stub of a candle perched on the night stand beside you, glowing a smudged amber in the lonely corner.

The fat droplets of rain rapped against the shingles of your window, singing a an almost nautical lullaby that reminded you of the days you'd spent with your husband out on his speed boat. The familiar sound brought your eyelids to drop ever so slowly, until your husband stomped through the kitchen door a few rooms away.

He had been out all morning at work, hammering and filing down on the newly constructed railways. His back was sore, and his brow dripped with sweat. He stood hulkingly in the kitchen taking off his thick coat and work boots, he had been out since the early hours of the morning.

He made his way to his bed, ready to finally return to the relaxation the workday had robbed from him.

He found you tucked under the light covers, still slightly shaking from the frigid temperature of the world around you. He knew what needed to be done.

He stripped himself of his work clothes and slipped under the same covers. He situated his body on top of yours, fully engulfing your frame with his bulky forearms.

He was hot, even after a long night-turned morning out in the elements, his body still radiated heat. The tight bear hug that he had wrapped you in ceased any shiver you may have experienced.

"G'mornin'" you mumbled under his hold. The weight of his chest alone was relaxing in itself.

"Good morning, again" he chuckled against your temple.

"What's the plan for today? you lazily murmured.

"This." He answered, nuzzling his nose into the hair drapping down beside your neck.

Your laugh served as response enough. This was good enough for the both of you. Laying together, your husband asleep on top of you, the natural music of thunder and rain mixing together to bring you two to restful slumber.

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Reiben

Not a single soul other than you and Reiben's were at the Manhattan Beach that day. It was a weekday, Wednesday to be exact. His Mom's shop was closed every Wednesday since before he could even remember. Which meant he had the entire day off to do anything he pleased. So, in typical Reiben fashion, he took you to the beach, because to him, there is nothing he'd rather do than spend the whole day gawking at you in a swimsuit.

You both walked down the length of the shore, his giant hand interlocking with yours. You both left sandy footprints in the damp sediment of the earth. Chatting about your shared week, happily engaging in each other's input.

"And I told her," Reiben explained with his free hand, "I says, if you're a size 4, then I'm the Goddamn Pope!"

You shook your head and let out a joking sigh, "Please tell me you didn't actually say that to that woman, Rich."

"I had to! You know bettah than anyone 'nat when I get somethin' in my head I gots tah get it out!" he met you on the jokey playing field.

You rolled your eyes, "Yes Richard I do. Don'tcha remember when your little war buddy came over and blabbed all about your 'conversation pieces.'" You shot a lowly look at him with your eyebrows.

Reiben blushed a tinge of embarrassment. "I-" he stammered. "Listen, I," He lost it again. "I just thought the story was funny! It was a tense situation, we coulda died!"

"'Whenever things get tough I wantcha to think of these?'" You quoted with a shit eating grin. "Why would you tell people that?"

"It's what guys talk about!"

"Oh my GOD, Richard."

"It's what we do!"

You impishly rolled your eyes and hugged into your husband's shoulder. The feeling of the waves crashing against the soles of your feet, and the view of an empty beach ahead made a strange pool of euphoria gather in your chest. The wind swept your hair and made your skin slightly goose pimple when it caressed your skin.

"Is it s'possed to storm today?" You asked Reiben.

He looked up at the grey sky, swirly clouds above, "Eh. Maybe. Clouds definitely don't look happy."

You looked up at the sky again, and then kicked the coarse sand below you.

Reiben brushed his hand on the skin of your waist, feeling every bump that the cold had brought on. "Is my baby cold?" He pulled you in closer to him as you walked. Slightly jesting at your sudden burst of cold. "Does this girl need a blanket? At the beach?"

"Quit it Rich, we live in New York." You smiled.

"Aye no worries, baby. Prince charming brought ya's a blanket." He pointed to the bag you two had left in the sand near the pier. "Why don't we head back and warm up a bit, eh?"

You nodded, and turned around to head back to your spot.

Once you two had reached your secluded spot in the sand, Reiben stretched out the balnket in the sand, and allowed you to take your place on the soft yarn. Not too soon after, he joined you. He lightly spooned you from the back, his arms were long and hairy, they tickled your abdomen when he'd pull you in closer.

You brought your hands up to hold his arms that were wrapped around you, lowering your head slightly to kiss his tanned skin. You felt his breath brush up against your ear, in and out, in and out.

In that moment, that tiny twinkle of time, you felt as though you and Reiben were the king and a queen of the beach. Like Poseidon and Amphitrite, you ruled over your kingdom. Just the two of you.

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Mellish

Mellish opened the door for you as you walked through the frame leading into your apartment. He carried his sport coat thrown behind his back, and you held your heels by their buckles. You were both absolutely exhausted. The evening had completely drained the two of you.

You had been out to dinner with Mellish's parents. They were good people, really, they were, but they were even more so wearing. The very first thing his mother had asked you (before you had even sat down in your chair,) was "so when can we expect to be grandparents?" Mellish had warned you that they were direct, but you didn't expect it right out of the gate. You attempted a subtle look at Mellish, who was mentally cussing his mother, and he met your gaze with an eyeroll.

"Cool it, Ma I promise when the time is right, we'll make ya a grandparent." He pulled your chair out for you. "Now can my wife please take a seat without any interruptions." Mrs. Mellish choked back a giggle and grabbed her husband's hand. "Thank you..." Mellish spat.

"Now," Mr. Melish spoke up, "How's the brightest street of them all?"

"Nothing better than hearing angry men spout off about both the money their losing and making. It's about a real barrel of monkeys."

"Well I was going to tell you, that my friend Carl, he goes to the same synagogue as us, has a son whose looking for work on WallStreet, He doesn't want to have start off interning though. He says that it's just not a good fit for his personality, which I agree, he's a real loud prayer, but he wants an office job-" Mr. Mellish seemed to have said every word that popped into his head.

"Father please," Mellish brought his head into his hands and gave a big wipe to his forehead.

"Sorry son, anyways I told him that you would love to show him the ropes of the business. You'd find a 'good fit' for him." Mr. Mellish smiled a toothy smile.

Mellish looked over to you with a look that nonverbally said, "I'm sorry, it'll be over soon." Like a lamb to the slaughter, you brought your hand to Mellish's and gave a good squeeze.

"Oh I almost forgot! Look at these pictures of baby Stanley I found while I was cleaning out the garage." Mrs. Mellish held three photos of a toddler Stanley, all dressed in tiny sport coats and baby lace ups. "He's always been my little man!"

You giggled at the photos that had been shoved toward you. "Wow Stanley, were you ever a child?"

Stanley looked at you with tired eyes that were already looking toward the front of the restaurant and out the door. It would be over soon.

Now though, you both were home, free of any prying voices or demands made without your knowing. Your bedroom looked more than inviting. It's magnetism seeming to pull you and Mellish in closer and closer to the warmth of a warm bed and each other's embrace.

With his jacket thrown to the side, and his tie falling across his upward flipped collar, Mellish laid down atop the comforter of your bed. He pat his thigh at you, beckoning you to come over and sprawl out on him. An offer you did not hesitate to take up.

You, still dressed in your evening attire as well, hair and makeup still done to the nines, you draped your body over his. You rested you head on one of his clothed pecs and listened to his calm heartbeat.

As you rustled around on him, trying to get comfortable, Mellish caught whiffs of your expensive perfume you'd only broke out on special occasions. "You smell good." He said as he brought his nose down to smell you again. His moustache tickled your neck.

You laughed, "stop babe that tickles!"

"Sorry hun, you smell too good," he said bringing his head up and his hands to play in your hair. "Just too good..." His voice quieted as his exhaustion began to take over.

"Are we going to talk about the dinner?" Your voice rumbled against his shirt.

"Tomorrow. Im too tired to talk about my parents tonight." He lazed.

'Understandable." You sighed sleepily and pressed a light kiss to his shirt. "Goodnight, Stan."

"Goodnight, precious." He barely replied.

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Jackson

Jackson had been planning this trip for months. He'd bought all new equipment too, brighter lanterns, cozier sleeping bags, and even a menagerie of different lighters. This was going to be the best camping trip ever. Not because of the new equipment though, but because he was bringing you with him!

He'd talked it up every chance he could get. "There's a small spring that shines lil' streaks of silver when the sun hits it just right. Oh, honey you're just gonna love it I know it!" Was one of the more frequent statements.

He had packed up the bed of his old beat-up ford with his new equipment and a few other essentials (cases of water, MRE's he'd swiped from the base because he actually liked those, and some folding chairs.)

"C'mon Sugar! I wanna get there before dusk! It's the best time to fish!" He'd called up in the house.

You were still inside the kitchen packing some premade sandwiches and canned sodas into a small cooler. "Coming my love!" You'd shouted back at him, slamming the lid of the cooler and rolling it out behind you and out the door.

You met him by the truck and watched as he hoisted the cooler above his chest and into the bed. His muscles tensed as he lifted the cooler, you'd watched as his arms became rough with strength. They glistened with sweat.

"Ok darlin!" He'd unknowingly snapped you out of your gawking. "Let's git this show on the road!" He opened up the door of his two-seater and held your hand as you carefully climbed in. He then quickly jogged to his side and started the truck up and began to drive.

Jackson never really mentioned where he was going to take you. You had assumed it would be far away though. He spoke about the campground like it was this far away fairy land. So, you packed rather heavily, even if it was just for the weekend. You were surprised however, when Jackson stopped and pulled his truck over not even 20 minutes away from your house.

"We're here!" He shouted, glee filling his voice. He ran over to your door and opened it up for you once again. "C'mon sugar let's go! We're losin' sun!" Confused, but happy at your husband's unbridled joy, you followed him to the bed, and then to the campsite.

You two had spent the afternoon pitching your tent, fishing, hiking random trails Jackson had memorized over the years, and roasting marshmallows in the fire Jackson had built. You ended the day by holding each other tightly in his extra roomy sleeping bag (he'd bought it before you two had even started dating, he just knew he'd be lucky enough to take you on a trip like this one day. He'd prayed for it.)

You still didn't know why Jackson would choose to vacation so close to his own home though, curiosity had been eating at you all day. You needed answers, and you had to act fast, because once Jackson's head hit the pillow it was crickets until 6:00am.

"Hey sug," you whispered to Jackson, "are you still awake?" Even though he was facing you, you could never be too sure. "Yeah darlin' i'm still up." He meekly replied. "Oh good! I meant to ask you earlier, but what made you want to weekend so close to home? Not that I don't enjoy it or anything, I'm just curious."

Jackson stirred, bring one hand to prop his head up (so he wouldn't go to sleep in the middle of speaking) and the other across your shoulder. "Well sweet girl, my grandaddy used to take me dove huntin' over here. Ever since I's a kid, he'd drive me up here and it'd be a weekend fer just the two of us. I wasn't just another siblin' up here. It's where Grandaddy taught me to be a man. It's special." His eyes lit up an electric blue as he explained. HIs lips moved so perfectly as he told you the story behind your trip's location. "When he died, we got em' cremated an' I spread his ashes out here. I think Jesus made em' over as a dove. He visits sometimes."

You felt your heart melt as fat tears welled in his eyes. You pulled his head down to your chest. "Oh my love," you massaged his head. "Thank you for bringing me here. I'm so very honored."

"Of course. Yer real special to me doll." That was the last thing you heard your husband say before he drifted into a deep slumber. His chest rising and falling at a snail's pace. You followed closely behind him, only to be awoken by the sound of a morning dove outside of your tent.

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Wade

When you and Wade had built your house, the only thing you desperately wanted was a small reading nook packed with books and comfy chairs.

It was money well spent too, because you and Wade both found yourselves huddled in the small area with your noses poked in a book (sometimes the same one) and a warm drink sitting beside you. You were both introverts, so this was quite the sanctuary for the both of you.

"Whatcha reading, handsome?" You asked Wade, who was sitting curled up with a thick, dusty book. It was so large that he had to use both hands to keep it open.

"It's an updated medical journal detailing new ways to perform the Heimlich maneuver and other methods of foreign body removal." He spoke in his usual fast paced speech.

"Oh. Riveting." You joked and sat on the blank spot beside him on the couch.

"You laugh but it could save your life one day!" He stated coyly, a sly smile creeping upon his face.

"I'm kidding sweetie," you rested your head on his shoulder to look at the many columns of medical jargon littering the page. "I don't see how you can read this stuff. The words are so small and squished that they almost look like little ants marching off of the page."

Wade laughed at your childish imagination, "You read enough in medical training that this kind of thing becomes second nature."

"Could you translate?" You asked him, puppy dog eyes looking up at him innocently.

"Of course, dear." He picked a paragraph that he thought would be easy enough to explain, "For victims who are not in an upright position, The American National Institutes of Health recommends positioning the victim on the back, then straddling the torso and employing chest thrusts."

"Yeah, that sounds about right." You kissed his cheek. "Stand up and try that out on me."

Wade looked at you with a sassy expression. "You want me to practice the Heimlich on you? When you're not choking?"

"Yes, Irwin in fact I do. Now get up here and hold me!" You demanded tauntingly. It clicked in his head why you had requested this; you just wanted him to wrap his arms around you for a bit. He obliged.

He positioned himself behind you and brought his palms to rest against your abdomen. "If you were choking, I'd have to grab you here," he pulled your body into his. "Then I'd bring my hands up to here, " he planted the palms of his hand against the skin of your stomach, "and I would usually pull here, but tonight I'll just..." he slid his hands up and under your shirt and explored the soft skin.

Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as you ground yourself into the man behind you. The upper row of your teeth bit into your plush bottom lip, stifling any noises that may have escaped. "Usually," Wade started, "A choking victim doesn't enjoy it this much." He grinned, proud of the reaction he was bringing out of you.

You turned around to meet his lips in a kiss and led him back to the sofa. You both took turns nipping at each other's lips. Feeling the heat of your bodies pressed together.

When you both had tired each other out, you found yourself simply laying atop of him. Occasionally pressing a sweet kiss to his nose just to see his eyes crease in laughter and a blush wash his cheeks.

"I hope I never actually choke on anything," you broke the silence around you, "but I hope you do that again." He laughed slightly embarrassed at the way the situation had heated up, but definitely not upset.

"Me too." Wade agreed. "I may do it sooner than you think..." He took a beat and waited for you to look down at him from where you lay above him. When you finally did look down and into his eyes, he brought you into another kiss. This one even more passionate than the last, his eyes closed and his hands roaming.

All of this because of reading.

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#saving private ryan x reader #spr x reader #john miller #mike horvath #richard reiben #stanley mellish #daniel jackson #irwin wade

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