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margoftheearth · 8 months ago

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You Get Me So…

Pairing: Nick Miller/Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.4k

Summary: Nick and Reader’s relationship shifts after getting high and watching Cat in the Hat.

Rating: Teen and up

Warnings: Mentions of Sex, Smoking Weed, Alcohol Consumption, the Cat in the Hat

A/N: This isn’t particular towards any body type or race, everyone is applicable! I have always wished we saw Nick smoking more in the show, so I wrote this! I also posted this on AO3 under the same name; it’s linked at the bottom! Enjoy :))

“Nicholas, look what I have,” As Nick walked into the loft you waved a mason jar of weed back and forth. Nick’s eyebrows raised and he sat on the couch next to you. “I’m willing to share if you roll.”

“Well, with an offer like that,” Nick unbuttoned his jeans, shimmied them off, and slid under your fluffy blanket. “I thought I’d have to bum one of Cece’s roaches.”

“Been there,” You unclipped your weed box and picked out some supplies. “Thoughts on paper flavours?”

“Fuck, do you have green apple?” Nick rubbed his eyes and then sat up, eyeing your collection.

“No, but I have cherry.”

“Is that the only flavour you have?” Nick asked.

“Yeah.”

“So why would you… never mind, just give me the crap.” Nick cracked his fingers and hunched over the coffee table, getting to work. You got up to grab some snacks and beverages.

“You want crackers?” You asked him, already opening the box.

“Sure, Linda, I’d love some.” Nick smirked and referenced Bob’s Burgers, a show you two had watched almost all of.

“Alright, Bobby!” You did your best attempt at Linda Belcher’s accent, getting a chortle out of Nick. You poured yourself a hearty glass of wine and grabbed two bottles of beer for Nick. With the box of crackers under your arm, the glass in one hand, and the beer bottles in the other you headed to the designated smoking area near the window. You settled into the comfy seat and fidgeted with your lighter as you waited for your roommate to finish up.

Nick licked the rolling paper, sealed the joint, and got up from the couch with a grunt. He handed you the joint then opened the large window, knowing you were too short to reach it. You quickly examined the joint, impressed, as per usual, with how naturally good he was at rolling. When he sat down again you looked up at your partner in crime, gave him a slight smile, looked back down, and flicked the lighter. It took a few seconds for the tip to hold an amber, but once it did you raised it to your lips and inhaled deeply. You closed your eyes as the smoke flowed down your windpipe and into your lungs. After a very relaxing couple of seconds, you opened your eyes and exhaled, watching the smoke leave your mouth in a thick, enchanting cloud of smoke. You handed the joint over to Nick and sat back in your chair, letting out a couple of shameful coughs, having not smoked in a couple weeks due to your busy schedule. You watched with half-lidded eyes as Nick hit the joint himself, doing a trick as he exhaled while he still had the brainpower. As he ghosted the smoke, he delivered a subtle wink. You huffed out a slight laugh and he smiled back at you.

The two of you spent a while sitting there passing the joint back and forth, feeling the autumnal Los Angeles breeze through the open window, watching the smoke drift up into the rafters of the loft, feeling the stress leave your body and the high take over. It was common for the two of you to stay silent when you smoked together. It was different when Cece was with you or, God forbid, Winston. It was always fun when the others were part of the rotation, but you found you had the best time when it was just you and Nick. When you moved into the loft, you and Nick didn’t necessarily get along. Jess always said it was because you were too similar; whether or not you believed her wasn’t really relevant. It was when you and Nick got stuck on a two-person kayak in the middle of a random lake that you finally bonded. It was a moment you didn’t look back on too fondly seeing as it ended in sopping wet clothes and too many mosquito bites to count, but it was an important moment, nonetheless.

“You want the final hit?” Nick asked you after blowing out a copious amount of smoke.

“Don’t mind if I do.” You raised an eyebrow and stuck out your tongue a little bit, for what reason you weren’t sure.

“Okay,” Nick laughed and shook his head. “Let’s keep all appendages in the ride at all times.”

“Hmm,” you hummed as you sucked on the cherry flavoured joint. “Appendages. That’s a big word for you, pal.”

“Pal?” Nick laughed even more, eyes tired and red.

“I guess I’ve been hanging out with you too much.” You smiled softly at Nick, eyes worse than his. You put out the joint and left it in the ashtray, leaving it to rest with the graveyard of discarded butts.

“Alright,” Nick groaned and stood up slowly. “You coming?”

“Not on these two feet, Miller.” You stared up at him and squished your face together.

“Oh, no, no, no,” You giggled as Nick shook his head at you seriously, but you didn’t break the stare. You and Nick waited, looking at each other, for what felt like minutes, but was really more like 14 seconds until Nick stepped towards you and picked you up bridal style. “You’re a witch.”

“You love me.” You relaxed in Nick’s hold and splayed out in his arms like a confident, sexually experienced figure skater. Nick huffed and set you down on the couch, draping your blanket across your body. You could feel Nick staring down at you, so you made a peace sign with your fingers and put it on the outer corner of your eye.

“You know I hate it when you do the illuminati symbol!” Nick raised his voice as you laughed at him.

“This is not the illuminati symbol, this is!” You made your fingers into a triangle and brought them to the center of your eye.

“Enough! You know they can always see you!” Nick looked around, head on a swivel, and swatted at your hands until you submitted, covering your face as you laughed.

“Just sit, weirdo,” Nick sat next to you and started scrolling through the streaming services, trying to pick something for you guys to watch. “Oh, hey, Nick?”

“Yeah?” Nick hummed as he cycled through the comedy movies on Netflix.

“Have you watched Cat in the Hat before? And whatever your answer is, can we watch it right now?” You sat up and pulled your blanket up to your chin, placing the corner of the blanket on his thigh, an offering.

“The Cat in the Hat?” Nick sounded bewildered. “That’d a kid’s movie! Are we kids? No! We’re adults! We’re adults dammit! Why would we watch a kid’s movie? Are we kids? We’re not kids!” Nick ranted in his good old fashioned, insane Nick way.

“It is not a kid’s movie. How dare you say that,” you said, offended. “It is art. The Cat in the Hat film is pure art, Nick Miller. Of course you wouldn’t know that, though. Nick Miller and art, together. Silly me. Silly, silly, silly me.”

“I know art, what the hell? I’ve written a whole book, that’s art. I’m an artist.”

“If you knew art then you would watch Cat in the Hat with me.” You crossed your arms over your chest and huffed.

“Fine! Cat in the Hat it is! I hate everything!” Nick searched for The Cat in the Hat on Prime Video and pressed play once he found it, accepting his fate. You rifled around in the box of crackers, shoved some in your mouth, and offered Nick a couple. The two of you sat, high, watching The Cat in the Hat.

****************

“What the hell is happening?” Nick outraged, throwing his hands every which way, his beer bottle coming close to your face in a way that made you a little nervous. The Cat in the Hat was singing in a coconut bikini with fruit on his head, a scene which was not enjoying, something you couldn’t understand. “I did not consent to seeing this!”

“Calm down and be one with The Cat!” You shouted back at him, dancing along to the music and simultaneously waving your left hand to get his out of your face, your right gripping your glass of wine in a way that would make any rich, old, country club-going woman disappointed.

“I refuse!” The two of you waved your hands around some more until his beer bottle came into contact with your wine glass, creating an ear-shattering and glass-shattering catastrophe.

“Nick!” You shouted. Nick froze, holding the neck-sans-body of his beer bottle as wine and beer ran down your chest and stomach. Luckily the glass didn’t cut you, but it was all over your body and the couch. “Nicholas Miller! Do something!”

“Shit!” Nick whisper yelled. He sprung into action, moving hastily, yet carefully as to not disturb the glass too much. He began picking large chunks of glass from your body with nimble fingers and setting them on the coffee table. His fingers skirted across your clothed body ever so lightly, and you could feel your skin tingling in their wake, but did your best to ignore it. “I’m so sorry, that was so stupid.”

“Just get it off!” You whined. You could feel the liquid running down your upper thighs, creating a puddle under your butt.

“I am! I am!” Nick picked up the final pieces from around the couch and stood up, reaching out to help you up. You grabbed his hands, as calloused as ever, and he pulled you up. You watched his biceps flex as he lifted you and you blushed. You shook your head and stood next to him, trying very hard to focus on the situation at hand. “What should we do?”

“Uh…” You stood for a minute then grabbed your blanket off the couch, along with a few of the removable pillows. “Well, Schmidt will know what to do, right?”

“Yeah, maybe?” Nick nodded and helped with the remaining pillows.

Nick led you to the laundry room where you dumped the pillows and blanket on the ground. Quickly, you fled to Jess’ room to grab a notepad and a pen. You furiously wrote, “Sorry, we had an oopsie :( ” and ran out to leave it on the couch. You and Nick both knew you would be in big trouble with the rest of the members of the loft and would likely have to pool your money to reupholster the couch, or probably just buy a new one, but that was a problem for future-you. Once the note was adorned on the couch, you headed to the bathroom to change your clothes. You quickly turned on the water and began stripping. Nick followed you in, entering as you pulled your wine-stained XXL Garfield t-shirt over your head.

“Oh, Garfield,” you said to the shirt as you held it up in front of you. “You were kind to me. May you rest in peace.”

“Do you need me for anything?” Nick asked cautiously. You stood in your sleep shorts and bra, which was one of your favourites, but was now probably ruined.

“Could you unclasp this stupid thing?” You gestured to your back and Nick stared at you. “It’s a pest. I struggle with it even when I’m sober and my hands aren’t disgusting.”

“Mhm, yeah. Yes. I can do that, yes,” Nick cleared his throat uncomfortably, but approached you to help. “Unfortunately, I am high, and my hands are gross, much like yours, but I will do that for you.”

Nick went behind your back and held your sides, stilling you as you wriggled in discomfort from being covered in sticky booze. You stopped moving and your cheeks went hot. Suddenly, you could no longer feel the mixture of beer and wine drying on your ass and could only feel the warmth of Nick’s fingers fiddling with the clasp of your bra. He successfully got it unhooked, and you knew you should have told him to turn away and not look at your naked body, and you figured he knew he should have done it even if you hadn’t said anything, but both of you stayed put. You pulled your bra away from your chest and down your arms; you dropped it, and it fell to the floor on top of your beloved shirt. You turned around and made eye contact with your roommate; he looked into your eyes as your shorts joined the pile.

“I feel a little bit vulnerable, Miller,” you said, a smirk creeping onto your face. Nick blushed and you could feel him starting to get awkward. “Maybe you want to join me? In the shower, I mean.”

“Oh, uh, yeah,” Nick gave you a small smile and took a step back. He quickly pulled off his shirt and you could feel the energy change as the air got heavier with steam. “Hell yeah. I’m glad you asked.”

Nick shucked off his boxers and grabbed your waist. He rubbed circles into your hips with his thumbs and gazed into your eyes. You could feel your stomach begin to form butterflies as he planted a rough, warm kiss on your lips. He took one hand off your body to shove the shower curtain aside and backed you into the wall. The water poured down on the two of you and you could feel yourself getting worked up. High sex was the best sex, especially when it took place in the shower with your hot roommate you’d been swooning over ever since you had moved in; everybody knew that.

Nick grabbed your thighs and hoisted you up so your legs could wrap around his core. For someone who was known to be weak, he sure was strong. Suddenly Nick started lowering you down until you were sitting on the plank of wood Schmidt installed in the shower a couple months ago. At first you thought it was stupid, but when it came to shaving your legs and shower sex, it got the job done. Nick looked up at you with shockingly piercing, brown eyes as he approached you on his knees and gently pulled your legs apart. You sunk your hands into his thick, wet hair and he licked his lips.

“I always knew you were a munch.” You said through heavy pants. Nick rolled his eyes and got to work, making you let out a sigh that he would find himself thinking about for days afterward.

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