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bookshelf-dust · 2 months

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baby love, my baby love

gif by @corrodedcherry

eddie munson x fem!reader

word count: 1,880

warnings: swearing, reader had a not so good day, some hair washing, reader is nude in a non-sexual way, casual intimacy, lots of lovey-dovey things

a/n: hello! i am still very tentatively getting back into writing, but i wanted to write something sweet and comforting and soft and all those things. and eddie is the best provider of all that. this is so cute i almost made myself nauseous. lemme know what you think!! happy reading!!! <333 lots of love

————

“Where’s my girl at?”

Eddie’s voice rings throughout your small apartment, echoing slightly due to it not being fully furnished. His tone is almost giddy, words taking on a little twang after having spent the day working with Wayne.

You bury your face deeper into your pillow, fighting a smile at the way he speaks to you. From your place on the bed, you hear his keys smack the wall as he hangs them up, hear his boots thudding across the kitchen tiles as he makes his way to you.

When Eddie appears in the doorway to your shared bedroom, his arms are raised, fingers working to quickly tie his hair up in a knot. His biceps flex with the movement, drawing your eye to his pale skin. A brilliant smile spreads across his face upon seeing you.

“Hey, bug,” he says.

You flush. You never thought you’d allow someone to call you love bug, let alone any variation of it. You certainly didn’t think you’d like it. It’s who’s saying it that’s converted you.

You’re laying on your stomach, hands crushed under your cheek. You try to smile back at him, but it comes out much less enthusiastic than normal. It’s a very tired gesture.

Eddie notices, kicking off his shoes and crouching before you. “What’s the matter sweet girl? You’re wearing your outside clothes still, and you look pretty pitiful.”

At least he’s honest.

You blink and let your eyes flutter shut. “Long day. Headache. Upset.”

He brings his hand to your face, brushing his fingers over your temples. “Oh, I’m sorry, bug. I know you just wanna feel all better. Is that it?”

You nod, eyes still closed. He starts to laugh playfully just because of how pitiful you really do look, at how small and scrunched up you’ve made yourself. When he kisses your cheek, you feel his smile against your skin. It makes you beam, despite how you feel. The tingle Eddie’s lips leave behind makes it seem like the first time no matter how long it's been. You’re all soft for him, and there’s no denying it. But hell, he’s the same way.

“How about…” he trails off, rubbing the tips of his fingers up and down your spine, tickling your lower back where your sweater has ridden up. “How about I take care of you? Run you a bath, for starters? I know you like that.”

Your eyes open, happy to think about how nice it would feel to sink your tired body into a hot basin full of bubbles. “Okay, Teddy.”

“Yeah? C’mere then,” Eddie says gently, holding his hands out to encourage you to sit up. You slowly push yourself away from the mattress, and he easily pulls you to stand. “I’ll get the water warmed up for you.”

You give him a poor little salute, making him laugh, and then stick your fingers through his belt loop so you don’t have to do as much on the short walk to the bathroom. When you get there, Eddie bends to cut the water on and push the drain plug down. You wrap your arms around his waist and fold yourself against his warm back. You close your eyes once again, hearing him squirt a hefty amount of bubble bath into the tub. You’ll be lucky if he doesn’t flood the bathroom.

The plastic top clicks shut and Eddie rises, grabbing hold of your hands and spinning around in your grip.

“Don’t like seein’ you all drained, baby,” he says. Eddie’s hands cradle your face, long and pale fingers beginning to rub at your temples. It feels so nice to have that pressure be pushed away, to feel his body so close to yours. At this rate, you’ll forget you even had a headache.

“Wanna tell me about it?” Eddie asks. “Or do you just want to have a chill night?”

You open your eyes and push up on your toes to kiss his nose. “The latter,” you say.

He chuckles, knowing you never used that term until you started reading Jane Austen.

“M’kay, bug. That works for me.” His eyes twinkle mischievously. “You want a kiss? I think you deserve a good one.”

That gets you to practically melt. I fucking love this woman, Eddie thinks. He feels breathless each time you look at him that way. You look at him like he hung the stars, like he is your knight in shining armor. He kisses you in that way that thanks you for making him feel so loved. So cherished.

You thread your hands in Eddie’s hair, fingers pulling at the chunk at the nape of his neck where it’s most sensitive. His mouth is warm against yours. He smiles at your playfulness, breaking away to kiss both cheeks.

He bends and drags a finger through the water. “It’ll be plenty warm enough in a second, bug.”

You give him a tired thank you squeeze as he presses a kiss to your jaw.

“Need help undressing?” he inquires, a wolfish grin spreading across his face.

You gently backhand his stomach, watching as he feigns severe injury. “Perv,” you joke.

Eddie sits down on the toilet seat lid so that he can be prepared to turn the water off when he deems the tub full enough for you. Really he’d just like to see you surrounded by a huge pile of bubbles for his own amusement, but also because he knows it’ll be the thing to coax that pure, joyous laugh out of you. The sound he’d bottle and keep on his nightstand if he could.

You remove the little bit of makeup you’d been wearing with a cotton pad, sighing in relief to have it all off. You take out your earrings and slip off your rings, setting them in an ashtray on the counter you’ve been repurposing ever since Eddie decided to cut back on his smoking.

You take off each of your socks, one hand gripping the countertop for balance. As you slip your belt off, Eddie finishes preparing your bath and turns to face you. He holds his arms out, ready to collect your dirty clothes and accessories so that he can put them in their rightful places.

He takes your belt from you only to be cheeky, snapping the thick leather as loud as he can manage. He makes himself laugh.

You turn to the side when you unbutton your jeans, flushing and shy at his attention even after all this time. Even knowing how beautiful he finds your body. How much he loves how soft you are. After all, your body allows you to live. It allows you to spend time with him, and that is all he’ll ever ask for. It doesn’t matter to him what state your body is in because it is yours. And you are his.

Eddie smiles watching you shimmy out of your snug jeans. You hand him your pants and t-shirt, now only in your bra and underwear. You don’t give yourself the time to be self-conscious, longing for the hot bath water. You turn and quickly unclasp your bra. Eddie playfully flicks your bum. It always deserves appreciation in his eyes.

When you hand him the last of your items, he presses the sweetest kiss to your tummy, thumbs rubbing at the indentations left on your chest from your bras underwire, as if he can make them go away just by sheer will.

“I love you, bug,” Eddie says, looking up at you with those watery doe eyes. His kisses your stomach again.

“I love you same, Teddy. Now let me take my bath. It’s rather chilly in this house, don’t you think? I refuse to freeze.”

Eddie laughs to himself as he walks off, taking your clothes to the hamper and storing your bra and belt elsewhere. He never could’ve imagined a world where preparing a bath for his partner would make him as happy as it does.

————

Eddie is kneeling on the bathroom floor. Your back is pressed against the side of the tub, and he’s washing your hair. Well, really he’s already given it the scrub and cleanse that it needed, now he’s just trying to make weird shapes out of it.

After you’d sat in the warm water until your toes pruned without actually bathing, he jokingly offered to do your hair while you washed your body.

You hadn’t even thought about it. You were enjoying the way the bubbles came up to your chin, the way you were completely encapsulated in the safety of them. The way Eddie sat there on the rug, telling you about his day. About the different things he’d fixed on which cars—nothing you understood in any fashion, but something you always wanted to hear about.

“You could make good money doing this, you know. You’re very talented,” you quip, scrubbing your calf with a washcloth.

Eddie snorts, kissing your wet shoulder blade. “What? Give head massages?”

You ring out your rag, having completed your washing ritual and made sure everything got the attention it deserves.

“Mhm. That felt so good.”

You pull the drain plug up, letting the water out. Eddie stands and acts as though his back is going to give out on him. You quickly turn the shower on, just so you can make sure you got all the conditioner out of your hair and feel completely clean. Eddie has never done this rinsing routine after a bath, but loves to see you do your little happy dance when you’re all clean and wrapped up in a towel.

He holds out a hand as you step over the rim of the tub, bowing for added effect. “How was your bath, m’lady?”

You lead the way out of the bathroom, on a search for pajamas. “I’d say it was the best bath I’ve ever had the pleasure of taking, good sir.”

You hug your fuzzy towel to your chest, pushing up on your tiptoes to kiss Eddie’s full lips. He blushes at the eye contact you’re giving him. He knows how it makes you nervous, but getting to have all of your attention like that makes him tingly.

“Thank you for helping me, Teddy.”

“Anything for you, sweetheart.”

You turn to the side, gripping a round, wooden handle and pulling open your top dresser drawer. Eddie kisses your cheek. Sometimes you think Eddie’s kisses are lifesaving. They’ve surely contributed to your stability. They’re healing. And so is the way he cares for the people he loves. The way he so effortlessly does things just because he only wants to see you happy.

Eddie ends up picking out your pajamas while you pick out his. You’re in your own bottoms, but one of his Iron Maiden t-shirts. You told him you should match, so he pointed you in the direction of another, and you made sure to choose pants for him that had red in them, just like yours.

Before you can sit down on your shared bed, Eddie takes your hand and leans down to whisper in your ear. His chin brushes your jaw, lips parting in a bright grin before the words ever leave his mouth.

“Now, what do you think about going to get milkshakes?”

————

please let me know if you liked this! feedback is always appreciated!! comments and reblogs mean more than you know. <33

note: none of the gifs or images i use are mine! i get most of my images from pinterest or here, and gifs from about the same. please let me know if i ever don’t credit someone properly!

#savannah’s fics #eddie munson #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson comfort #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson x reader fluff

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theonemarvelousness · 1 year

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Scar of King's Roar [TW]

Leona's eye hurts.

A lot of stuff hurts. His eyes are dry.

It's rare he sees his father.

Talking to the doctor in the other room.

His ears ache; but he catches some words.

"--Unique Magic..."

"--sand? Everything?"

"--blot--"

"--blind?"

He can't see out of his patched-up eye.

Things are weird.

He wants a bath.

A nap.

"And STAY here. No one wants to look after a cursed prince!" The servant scolds, hauling him in the--well. He's not sure where he is, really. It's dark. And small. And there's no one here.

If he wasn't a lion, he wouldn't be able to make out this small, box-like space. He has to sit to fit.

Jiggling the handle does nothing. He can hear the clatter of a lock.

Maybe if he just naps?

---

The door's still locked when he wakes up. He's thirsty, and his stomach growls. Hungry, too.

Pressing his ear against the door...

"Hello?!" He calls, maybe he can't hear them?

"HELLO?!"

Nothing.

He takes another nap.

---

Sleep is nice, but when he's awake he's remembering how hungry and thirst he is.

Why are there no servants? That's... how it's supposed to be, right?

Why did the nanny leave him in here?

---

His tummy hurts.

His throat hurts.

He's hit the door, and tried to use some magic. But he's not strong enough to get out. His claws aren't as long or as sharp as Farenah's, either. He can't just slash through things like his big brother.

Farenah's at school, far away, too.

---

Why can't the door disappear?

Words--strange words bubble in his throat. "I am your hunger, I am your thirst. I am what steals your tomorrows. Kneel before me! King’s Roar!" He doesn't know where it comes from. This strong magic takes nothing, but--but the door!

The door he was pushing against... it's sand?

"What is THAT?" A servant yells, looking at him in horror.

"What did he do!?" Another.

Coming toward them, he grasps their pant leg. "I--"

The cloth turns to sand.

The servant screams. And shoves at him--hard. Their claws pierce and cut his skin, as he's shoved away by his face. It hurts.

It hurts so much.

Stumbling, he falls into a cabinet.

It turns to sand, slowly, as he uses it to get up.

It's.

There's a lot of shouts.

He sees guards.

He...

---

Waking up here...

King's Roar.

That was the magic he used. His Unique Magic.

He isn't sure anymore.

Did kids get their Unique Magics?

He's so tired.

"PRINCE LEONA!" The shout of Kifaji startles him. Ears back.

Leona doesn't want...

"Oh no--what did they do to you? My little prince..." The bird flutters and all that.

But he doesn't want to talk. "Thirsty." He gets out, stomach grumbling. Suddenly, all of it's back. The hunger and thirst.

"Yes, yes!" And off the bird goes, coming back with a fresh glass of water. "Slow sips, Leona."

Taking it, he downs it gratefully. It soothes a lot. But he listens. Slow sips.

"I want a nap, Kifaji." He wants his room.

"The doctor hasn't finished--but what happened, Leona?" The soft tone of the adult. The old bird bends to look him in the eyes. Eye.

"...The nanny put me somewhere..." He mumbles, looking away. "And I got out with sand."

The King and the doctor return then.

His father looks just like Farenah.

Sunset hair. Gold eyes. Large. Proud.

He looks like his mother, the late queen. Dirt hair. Green eyes.

But he's only seen her in paintings. Farenah's photos.

Leona bows to the king, as he should, and keeps his gaze to the ground.

The doctor pulls up his chin. "His Blot levels are high, he's severely dehydrated. He needs water. Several good meals. That is an impressive amount of magic for a five-year-old..." He doesn't like looking at the old doctor. But he doesn't pull away like he wants to. "My King, you should be quite proud. You have two powerful princes in magic!"

"He summons sand." The king cuts back.

Leona's ears press flat to his skull.

The doctor is older than even Kifaji. "My, yes, we... are unsure if he'll keep his sight. Kifaji, make sure he's here after dinner. We'll do twice-a-day looks until it's healed."

"Yes, of course."

"He can go now." The doctor releases Leona.

"Come, my Prince." Kifaji gestures for him to come along.

Leona slides off the table, and bows to his father quietly before he leaves.

He doesn't stumble until he's out of the older lion's sight.

---

The servants are scared now.

They were just mean before... cursed is thrown around a lot, more.

They say, in their whispers they think he can't hear, that he killed the queen when he was born.

He took too much.

Of course he did, look at that magic.

Sand.

---

It left a scar over his eye, but he can see out it.

His fingers trace over it again and again.

"It does make you look like the King of Beasts, Leona." Kifaji points out.

"Really?" He turns back, looking at the old bird, curious.

The bird gives a big smile. "Yes, and I think you'll follow a path of greatness too, one day."

Kifaji's just saying that.

#leona kingscholar #farenah kingscholar #kifaji #sunset savannah #twst writing #twst writings #twst fic #twst fanfic #twst fanfiction #twst angst

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cywhirlgates · 2 years

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IM HURTING LETS PRETEND KARNAK WAS LIKE “lmao jk GET IN THE PORTAL!” AND EVERYONE COMES BACK

everyone is just whooshed back

they’re standing in line

they all look at eachother for a second before *scooching* out of line.

Ocean: Did you guys have that dream too?

*various yeah, yes, and nods*

Constance: Did we really die? I was so scared!

Ocean: It was such an unprofessional move of him to lie to us like that! “only one can go.” liar!

Penny: I’m just happy we are all alive.

Mischa: I AGREE WITH PENCIL. WE ARE LUCKY LIKE SAVED SAW CONTESTANT.

Noel: Does this mean I have to go to work tomorrow? School too?

Constance: i guess so!

Ocean: it feels weird to know all of your thoughts… well, save for penny i guess.

Penny: I am so sorry I didn’t give you any insight into my mind, would you like me to tell you what I am thinking about right now? Currently, I’m wondering where my head-

Ocean: No! Im okay actually!!

Penny:

Constance: I think this is a sign. We need to live our lives to the fullest!!

Penny: I agree with Constance. We could die at any second. We need to enjoy ourselves.

Mischa: MAYBE WE SHOULD DO MORE FUN THINGS? OUT HANGING .

Ocean: I mean, we could but i don’t know how that would fit into my schedule…

Constance: Come on ocean! Live a little! We can’t be *most of* the Choir!

Ocean: Fine, i’ll figure something out. Only because i love you guys.

Noel: Vile.

———

SORRY IF THIS DOESNT FIT WELL ITS LATE AND I WOKE UP IN A COLD SWEAT NEEDING TO WRITE THIS.

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the-navistar-carol · 3 months

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Chapter 20 of "Aftershocks," up now!

Kelly "Vacay" Savannah, Weapons Systems Officer, has been called back to Top Gun years after her graduation, about a mission she knows nothing whatsoever of. Luckily, she's not alone. Her frontseater Marisol "Floodgate" Carter, has been called back, too. OR: Two more people join the Dagger Squad. Not a lot changes, but nothing is the same.

New year, new "Aftershocks" chapter...? My bad on y'all for that big gap. It might happen again, but considering I only have one chapter left to write, I really fucking hope not.

EDITED BY @zee-has-commitment-issues THEY ARE AMAZING I LOVE THEM SO MUCH

Tonight, her sharp edges and hard lines were brittle enough to hurt those around her far worse. Tonight, she was hurting. Tonight, she could not inflict that on anyone else. She would not be a hypocrite.

So there Marisol Carter stood, opposite Jake Seresin, with tape and cotton batting and canvas and twine wrapped along all of her needle-sharp edges, with all her angry love fighting to escape in the only real way she knew how to. She liked him well enough. She had no idea how much she trusted him, but the universe was about to force its hand on the one card she didn’t have a raised flush against.

Read now on Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/41581620/chapters/134401249

Taglist: @missezri

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stormysnz · 1 year

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Hazy Haircuts (M)

Hello! Jumping back in here quick to drop this because I've had a bit more time on my hands, and I had this half-written and decided to finish it up! Another very cute iteration of the Noah and Savannah chronicles with the both of them kind of a mess (as always lol). This is super messy and not super edited (because I just wanted to write and finish it and get it out there lol) soooo if the pacing is weird or there's spelling mishaps that would be why haha! Anyway, enjoy some banter from sick Noah and drunk Sav!

Today 11:58pm

Savannah: dont cut your hair noah

Me: …

Me: What?

Savannah: dnt do it

Me: Wasn’t really planning on it

Me: Wait aren’t you out right now?

Savannah: oh yeah, look !!!!!

Savannah: *Attachment: 1 Image*

Me: Jesus Christ.

Me: You’re so drunk rn aren’t you?

Savannah: Mmmmmaybe

Savannah: if you think teh dizzy world makes me so drunk rn then yes

Me: Do I even want to know what ‘the dizzy world’ means?

Me: Yknow what, don’t even answer that.

Me: Where’s Emmy?

Savannah: ooohhhh, her adn asher went to go do the thing

Savannah: hahahaha the thing like sex upstairs

Me: Yeah, I got that much

Me: So you’re alone rn?

Savannah: yea but im gonna start walking home soon im sleeepy

Me: There is no way in hell you’re walking home alone.

Savannah: yes thre is ! look!

Savannah: *Attachment: 1 Image*

Me: Jesus fuck

Me: Go back inside now Savannah, I’m coming to pick you up

Savannah: but im oky walking home

Me: Back inside now. I’ll be there in 5, send me the address

Savannah: fine can you brnig a snack

~~~

“Are you sureee?”

“As tembti’g as that offer is, I think I’ll pass. I’b driving, I cad’t have a drink, Sav,” I explained slowly, helping Savannah into the passenger seat of my car. I shivered against the cool, night air and shut the door gently before hopping into the driver’s side, starting up the car.

“Mmmm right. Forgot,” Savannah hummed softly. Surely her view of the world right now was hazy at the edges, and it bled into her voice - lower than usual and syllables all blending together.

Reaching for the gearshift, my hazy eyes settled upon something I’d shoved in one of the cupholders, blinking in remembrance. “Oh, here,” I tossed the bag of Goldfish I had snagged on the way out of my apartment into Savannah’s lap, a small grin tugging at my lips at the immediate brightening of her eyes.

“Ohmygod, I could kiss you right now,”

Aaaand, the smile was quickly slipping off of my lips as I practically choked on air at her response. Christ, what was I gonna do with this girl…

I felt my cheeks heat up, and was suddenly very grateful for the midnight darkness that hopefully hid the blush well enough. Not that I really even understood why my body insisted on reacting like that…

Well…Okay, thinking about that too hard was bringing up a lot of confusing feelings that I was dead-set on not figuring out right now. Quickly brushing past the whole interaction, I reached for the plastic water bottle I’d also brought for the inebriated girl, passing it over to her after cracking the lid easily.

“You gotta-hh! *snf!* gotta drink water, too, th-though,” I insisted, bringing my wrist up to quickly brush under my raw nostrils with a quick sniffle. Seemingly, my surprise regarding Savannah’s response had stolen away enough of my attention to allow a tickle to bloom in my currently annoyingly over-sensitive sinuses, despite how I tried to rub the sensation away.

Fucking hell, this had been happening all day. Once I realized with a sigh that there was no use in fighting it, I quickly fumbled for the wad of tissues currently making a home in my pocket (I did not want to think about the sanitary-ness of that, but it was an issue for another time) and managed to press them to my dripping, widening nostrils at the last moment.

“huh…hh-hiH! hh’DSHHhUE! hiH! eh’YYSHHiIEW! huh-uH!...”

My lashes fluttered and my head tilted back, mentally encouraging the all-consuming tickle in my nose to just grow the slightest bit bigger and let me--

“hUH! iIESSHHhhU! Nhh…s’cuse me,” A final, desperate sneeze threw my upper-body forward into the awaiting tissue-clump (which, honestly, wasn’t doing all too much considering I was always a tad late on bringing the clump up to my face to cover. But, the fact that I was even using tissues in the first place was probably a statement in and of itself).

“Bless you,” Savannah let out through a mouth full of Goldfish, apparently too focused on her snack to clock anything wrong with her chauffeur at the moment.

“Thag’k you. Water, too, Savad’ah,” Said chauffer reminded, blinking sinus pressure-induced tears from my eyes and sniffling thickly. Hopefully I’d be able to hold off on blowing my nose until Savannah was dropped off, but based on how I could feel congestion shifting already and liquid beginning to trickle down my sinuses, I didn’t trust my immune system to make that possible. Great.

I heard Savannah let out a soft groan, but grabbed the water nonetheless and began sipping at it as I started the car and began the way back to her apartment building.

The streets were quiet as I drove, colored brightness from traffic lights burning through the dark. Taking a left, my skin suddenly prickled with the feeling that there were eyes on me. Shifting most of my attention to my peripheral vision, I could just spot Savannah out of the corner of my eye, her head cocked slightly to the side as her gaze was fixed on me.

“Wad’a take a picture?” I asked congestedly, not taking my eyes off the road. God, the congestion was building by the minute. And, if Savannah was in any better of a state of mind, she’d probably have noticed by now.

“Hmm?” She hummed out blankly, eyes still pointed over at me.

“It’ll probably last lo’ger,” I continued flatly, sending a pointed look over to Savannah, who had seemingly finished the snack-pack of Goldfish already.

“No, I’m good. Well, actually, the album on my phone with hundreds of Noah Jameson pictures could probably use an update sooner rather than later…” Savannah let out teasingly, a grin across her lips. Ah, so the back-and-forth banter didn’t leave when she was drunk. Lovely.

I couldn’t stop the fond shake of my head at her words. “Well, if you’re so worried about mby hair bei’g cut, you mbight actually wad’t to start collecting those photos, just id case,” I shot back, mirth in my eyes as I recalled what Savannah had originally texted me for.

At some point between her sending of that text and this current moment, the still-tipsy girl had sobered just enough to be slightly embarrassed about that text, and I quickly noted a slight pink across her cheeks mixing with the freckles there. Ahh, I still got it even while dripping in congestion.

“Shut up,” Savannah groaned out, rolling her eyes with a soft smile. But, she should have known better than to think that I, Noah Jameson, would let it go that easily. Of course I was going to take it and run. As long as my nose could hold off on acting up.

“Ndo, ndo, really. I k’dow, mby hair is just wo’derful and luscious, it’s u’derstuhh…sta’dable --hH’RSHHHuhh… *snfl!* Ugh, sorry,” My teasing was cut off by my breath catching in my throat again, a heavy sneeze catching me off guard. Fuck, don’t crash, don’t crash…

The congestion left me sniffling rapidly in the aftermath, though I pried my eyes open as soon as possible to make sure I kept my gaze on the road. A sneezing-related car crash was decidedly not what we needed at the moment.

“Bless you,” Savannah hummed out, eyes narrowing. “Are you alright?”

Clearing my throat to hopefully avoid the need for a coughing fit anytime soon, I nodded. God, was she catching onto the lapse in my health already?

“Yeah, I’b good. A’dyway, a’dy reason you were obsessi’g over my hair at mid’dight od a Friday dight?” It was an obvious change-of-subject, but Savannah seemed to not notice in her current state. Thank God.

“I was not obsessing--”

“--Ki’da seembs like you were obsessi’g,”

“Well, I wasn’t. Someone there was just talking about how they were going to cut their hair, and it kind of looked like yours, and I knew they wouldn’t look as good with their hair cut, so I texted you to make sure you wouldn’t,” Her tone indicated that it was obvious to why she would text me regarding hair at midnight while drunk.

My gaze shifted over to her, brow raised with an amused smile dancing across my lips.

Immediately crossing her arms and sinking down in her seat, Savannah shot back a quiet and petulant, “Shut up,”

“I didn’t eved say adythi’g,” I let out, voice much too bright with amusement and mirth.

“Yeah, well, your face did,” The tipsy girl let out, obviously trying to pout her way into me feeling bad. God, why was it working a little bit? Must be my currently boiling brain from whatever bug I picked up. Speaking of…

My knuckles seemed to unconsciously rise to my nose, scrubbing the appendage harshly back and forth and back and forth and--

“Why are you doing that?”

At the slurred inquiry from the blonde beside me, my hand dropped and my eye shifted over to her for a moment too long before flicking back to the road.

“You’re bei’g especially irrihh-tati’g todight, you k-k’dnow tha-hahht?” I was sure the comment couldn’t hit as was intended with it all being broken up by my breath catching. And because I was pretty sure I was, like, physically incapable of saying anything actually mean to this girl.

And she seemed well aware of that fact, considering the smug grin playing on her own lips. Or maybe she was just drunk. Who was to say?

“Mhmmm, I know. So, why--”

“hiRRSHHuU! G’SHHU-EHH’TSHHhhUE!”

“Christ almighty, give a girl some warning next time,”

I blinked my watery eyes open, thankful that we were nearing Savannah’s place. Meaning, we were currently driving through a residential neighborhood with minimal opportunities for sneeze-related crashes. “Snff! Sorry,” I mumbled, clearing my throat as I tried to direct my attention back to the road as best I could. Only a few more minutes, then I could--

“Are you sick?”

Fucking hell. “What’s with the idterrogatiod?”

“The what?”

I rolled my eyes. “You’re u’dbearable. The in’derrogation,” I annunciated to the best of my ability, making a slow left turn.

Out of my peripheral, I could see her shoulders rise and fall. “I dunno. Just curious. And you’re sneezing and sniffling all over your car, so…”

A soft, breathed out laugh escaped my throat. “Well, id’s n’dot like you’re in the best shape of your life either, prind’cess,” I replied, my eyes catching on the soft lights illuminating the road at the late hour.

A frankly adorable snort sounded to my right. Why was my hazy mind adding in unhelpful adjectives like that? “Well, I’m just drunk,” She replied. Yeah, as if I couldn’t tell that from her slightly slumped posture, slurred speech, and the increased boldness. “You’re sick…Not like ‘sick’ cool, but like ‘sick’ actually si--”

“--Yeah, yeah, I gotcha, Sav,” I cut the poor, rambling girl off as I slowed to a stop in front of her apartment building, taking one hand off the wheel to rub at the pressure behind my eye.

She had the slight awareness to look a tiny bit sheepish at her verbose stream of consciousness, and the way the corners of her eyes wrinkled up with her smile made my chest tight. Fuck, I couldn’t deal with figuring all these emotions out while my brain felt like it was boiling and every inch of my body was filled to the brim with heavy congestion.

When my gaze found hers again after I put the car in park, I found her wide eyes on me, expression looking decidedly more…thoughtful(?) than before. “...W-what? Why’re you looking at m’be like that?”

With the way she was looking at me, all wide-eyed and solemn, I was mentally begging her not to start crying. Was Savannah Mitchell a sad drunk? I didn’t want to know, really. Not right now, at least.

“I’m sorry you had to come get me while you’re sick. You didn’t need to do that,” Her brow was just slightly furrowed, her fingers fiddling with a hair tie on her wrist. God, my mind couldn’t catch up with these mood swings while I was in this state.

“Well, someo’de had to m’bake sure you did’t die. What would I do without your consta’dt ihhh-i’dnsults every la-hah!...lab?”

“I dunno--”

“hihh…hhiH-IH!”

“Sneeze yourself to deat--”

“iyYISHHU!-EHhTSHHHIEW! hEH! EH’DSHhhIEW!”

“Yeah, just like that, actually,”

I’d managed to yank out my crumpled ball of tissues just in time for that wrenching triplet of sneezes, and it seemed like I still wasn’t done. I could still feel the itch slithering through my sinuses, causing instinctive twitches and wrinkles and flares of my nose as I sucked in thin gasps. My lashes were fluttered shut, pressure prickling behind my eyes as my head tilted back, attempting to build the tickle enough to fuel the upcoming sneeze.

“Bless you,” A smug voice sing-sang from beside me, apparently enough to tip the sneeze over the edge.

“hIH’RSHHH!-ESSSHhHUE! aHD’SHHHIEW! hh-HIH! yYIISHHHUE!...nhh, Jesus,” Oh, massive headrush. I sniffled against the pressure seemingly everywhere in my face, one hand holding the very necessary tissue against my nose, with the other pressed against my sinuses lightly.

My watery eyes blinked open to see Savannah with that thoughtful (God, it wasn’t thoughtful, it wasn’t solemn…What was the emotion that was slipping my mind??) look on her face again. God, that girl could not be any more expressive. If only my mind was working properly and I could actually tell what that expression across her face meant.

She just seemed to stare over at me for a few seconds - whether she was actually thinking about something or she was just zoned out in a drunk haze was beyond my current comprehension - before shaking herself out of it.

“Well, if you don’t get back to your place soon, I think you might actually sneeze yourself to death. So, I will be on my merry way,” She insisted.

I snorted out a soft laugh, scrunching my nose a few times as it shifted the congestion in my head. “Your ‘mberry way?’ God, I did’t kdow you turned into a mbiddle-aged white wob’an whe’d you drank,”

Her head shook side-to-side with - this time I could place it - mostly exasperation, but a little hint of fondness. Perfect, just how I liked my Savannah reactions.

“Shut up, just go home,” She let out with a soft laugh. “Thank you, for coming to get me. Really. I feel bad, you should be sleeping right now,”

I shook my head to wave her worries off. “Really, like I said, id’s d’ot a big deal,”

“No, it is,” She insisted, her eyes bright from alcohol and passion. “Ugh, you always do that - the ‘Oh, it’s not a big deal’ - but I swear it’s the biggest deal ever,”

I still wasn’t really following. “Sav, I saved you b’aybe four bucks o’d an Uber, id’s really d’ot--!”

. . .

H-What?...S-Sorry, give me a few seconds for my brain to fucking reboot so I can make sure that that’s what actually happened and I didn’t actually hallucinate from this fever.

. . .

Okay, nope, I’m sure I didn’t imagine that.

Because it would be crazy for me to imagine Savannah cutting me off mid-sentence while talking about an Uber by leaning in and kissing me on the cheek.

Savannah Mitchell. Kiss on the cheek. To me, Noah Jameson. Who she did not like. (Well, we were in a kind of grey area now, weren’t we?) Christ, this was confusing. I honestly wish I had hallucinated it.

But, of course, because of my lagging, Internet-Explorer-via-2006-speed brain right now, all I could do was stare at the girl, my mind whirring with questions of one, why that had happened, and two, what my correct response was.

God, I hated this stupid fever-wracked mind - she’d only kissed my cheek, not flashed me, I shouldn’t be this awe-struck. But, there I was, footage of Savannah leaning in close and pressing her lips to my warm cheek on replay in my brain.

And, though my brain felt like it was moving at molasses-pace, it must have only been around five seconds since Savannah pulled back because she was already moving to get out of the car and--

“Goodnight, Noah,” She said, a small grin pulled across her lips, her tone hazy and low from the alcohol mixed with a bit of mirth (surely at my reaction, which I was sure I’d be getting teased for the next fifteen times I saw her).

And, just like that, there she left me in my car, staring after her as she blissfully hopped up to her apartment building.

Once she was safely inside her building and out of sight, a long groan escaped my throat, forehead falling onto my steering wheel.

…Fucking hell, what was I getting into with this girl?

#OC: Savannah #OC: Noah #snzfic #snz fic #sick fic #sickfic #my writing #super messy writing but im getting back into the swing of things and just wanted to get some more practice writing with them!#hopefully if I continue to have some more time I'll be able to keep going with some more fics w them!#bc they're adorable I love them!

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creapysummer · 1 year

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If I wrote a spacedolls sickfic would anyone be interested

#if so then could someone give me some headcanons for this idea #because ive never written a spacedolls fic and i dont know how to start #ride the cyclone #rtc #ricky potts #savannah potts #rtc jane doe #penny lamb #spacedolls #rtc fic #rtc fanfic #ride the cyclone fanfiction #ride the cyclone fanfic

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andthatisnotfake · 2 months

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New Look

“There you are!”

Savannah closed the bedroom door after finding Bertrand on their balcony, but he didn’t acknowledge her at all.

“Everything ok?”

“You can’t laugh.”

She frowned, but before she could ask anything, he turned around.

He was wearing glasses.

She stared at him in stunned silence.

“I know, I look like an idiot. An old idiot.”

“That’s not what I was thinking. At all.”

He paused and looked at her face. He knew that expression…

“Do you think this is… sexy?”

“Baby, if I didn’t think this was sexy, I would be the one in need of glasses.”

#Bertvannah #Bertrand Beaumont #Savannah Walker #The Royal Romance #Playchoices #My fics #My drabbles #40 for 40 #I'm late with these so you're getting multiples for a few days

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justjasper · 4 months

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Life, the Universe, and Everything [G] [1656 words]

Post-canon, Reid's first Christmas with Savannah, Morgan and Hank.

— — —

Reid has been making Hitchhiker's jokes since his forty-second birthday in October; that the coming year is going to be the answer to life, the universe and everything.

It's all jokes in good fun, and neither Morgan or Savannah have called time on it yet, because there's a deeper significance that undercuts it all, especially at this time of the year.

This is the first Christmas after Reid's finally found home.

— — —

You can find more of my fic on my blog tag or Ao3. also on Twitter or Discord (Quan Tea Co & Adoribull Holiday) if you want to hang out!

#criminal minds #derek morgan #spencer reid #savannah hayes #moreid #my fic

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grumpchump · 19 hours

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realized i never actually posted this here lmao. basically if you're like me and you were emotionally destroyed by LPS Popular and needed to see closure between Brooke and Savvy you should read my fic about it ❤️ thanks

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bookshelf-dust · 1 year

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healing

billy hargrove x gn!reader

word count: 5,445

warnings: swearing, smoking, mentions of past trauma (starcourt), slight sexual innuendos??

a/n: hi! remember when i made you do a poll for my 1k celebration? and one bed with billy won? well this is that fic! i'm sorry it took so long to get here, but school was kicking the ever loving shit out of me. anyways, i really hope you like it. it's a little different than other fics i've written, but i think that's a good thing. just for context, this is post the end of season three, with billy and hopper being okay and jopper being in full swing. i think that's all i wanted to say. thanks again for 1k followers. that's still so wild to me. i love you. and billy loves you too <333

————

November 1985

“No.”

“What do you mean no? You just fought an interdimensional being, don’t you want a vacation?”

Lucas wipes both hands down his face, flopping down on the arm of the couch beside where Max sits with El between her knees, tying off one of the two braids she’s trying to make.

“Max, can you help me? Please?” Lucas has been arguing about this for fifteen minutes.

She rolls her eyes, but looks up from her work nonetheless. “Billy.”

The man in question crosses his arms, locking eyes with the redhead. “Maxine.”

Max finishes Eleven’s braid and she hops up to join Will where he’s working on a puzzle. Joyce brought it home from work a few days ago, and it’s been spread out on a card table in the corner of the living room since then. Will couldn’t watch The Golden Girls with Joyce from the kitchen table.

“Just come with us, Billy. We all know you hate it here. It’ll give you a chance to get away for a little while.”

Except that’s not totally the truth. He doesn’t hate it here. Not with you around.

“There’s a pool.” Will looks up, a little shyly, from the puzzle, fingers flipping around a single piece. “At the place Robin found.”

Billy nods, and it’s enough to make Will smile at the acknowledgment.

It’d been Steve’s idea, after everything that happened in July. He thought everyone going on a trip together might be a good idea. Go a little ways out from home, calm down.

You and Billy started going to school, though Billy is still working. He found a job at a record store across the street from Melvald’s that opened after the mall went to shit. It definitely wasn’t his first choice, but it works. And he’s slowly fixing up the Camaro.

Steve had offered to pay for the repairs in full, considering he did most of the damage when he rammed the side of it, but Billy couldn’t handle that. So far Max has only convinced him to let Steve cover the really expensive parts. It hurts Billy more than he’d care to admit—having Steve Harrington give him money.

But he can’t lie, going somewhere away from Hawkins, even just for a couple days, sounds really nice. It’s the group part that’s bothering him. He’s still not used to everyone wanting him to tag along, but apparently major trauma brings people together.

There’s the slamming of car doors, and footsteps running up the driveway before the door swings open, Robin bursting in with a stack of movies in her arms. She’s followed by Dustin and then Steve, bags and keys being tossed every which way.

Billy doesn’t see you for a moment and starts to worry maybe you aren’t coming. He’s already supplying excuses for having to go home, but Steve left the door ajar, and after a moment, there you are.

You look sleepy, footsteps the quietest of everyone else as you carefully push the Byers’ door shut behind you. He watches as you accept a hug from Eleven, overhears her ask, “how did your test go?”

He’s happy to hear you tell her it went well. It’s only after you’ve looked at her and Will’s puzzle and snapped a few more corner pieces in that you make a beeline for the open spot on the couch beside Billy.

When you’ve settled, your knee bumps against his. “Hey.”

He looks at you, a little grin playing at the corners of his mouth. His arms are still crossed, thumb playing with the pendant resting on his chest. A chest surprisingly covered by a sweater, though the sleeves are pushed up.

“Hey. Glad your test is over?”

That sound of his voice makes you smile, and he’s never been so grateful for something, even if it’s just an expression. “Yeah.”

You glance down at the new tattoo on his arm, a dark colored snake wrapping around the skin covering his elbow. You run your thumb across the tail that flicks across his forearm, and Billy relaxes into your touch.

“You have work today?”

Billy shakes his head. You’re glad he had the day off. And you’d tell him so if it weren’t for the sudden bombardment.

Lucas is suddenly standing in front of you, having returned from the kitchen where you think he and Dustin may have been cleaning out Joyce’s fridge.

“Holy shit, thank god you’re here. I need you to convince Billy to go on vacation.”

You glance at Max, assuming she’s already tried. She looks rather annoyed. “Lucas, would you sit down?”

The boy looks at Max, and she glares at him. Clearly he knows better and sits down next to her.

“Billy doesn’t have to do anything he doesn’t want to do,” you finally say.

The man in question turns to face you. You have to lean your head back some because of how close he is.

“Are you going?” he asks, voice quiet and thick with something you don’t know that you’re supposed to notice.

“Y-yeah. I was gonna. Robin only went on about it to me for an hour over the phone last night. I just think it might be nice to get away for a little while.” Billy doesn’t break eye contact with you, and while it makes you a little nervous, it tells you he’s listening.

“And I can watch Max for you if you really don’t want to go. Just make sure she doesn’t kill Lucas or anything.” Max snorts at your response, though Lucas looks at her in panic, already calculating how best to prevent that sort of situation.

Your gaze softens and you fight the urge to reach out and run your thumb across Billy’s cheek.

Please come with us. I want you to go. I want you there, you think. But it’s not what you say. You don’t know how badly he needs to hear it.

“You really don’t have to go, Billy. Not if you don’t want to.”

“But there is enough space, man.” Steve stands behind the couch, handing El a scrunchie he retrieved from her bag. His voice is calm, informative. “If you decide to go. There’s plenty of room, and we’d be happy if you did.”

Billy could make some smartass remark. But he won’t. He knows that Steve is being honest, and that he’s not trying to be a dick. It seems that witnessing the guy who beat the shit out of you almost die not even a year after he moved to town really brings you together.

Billy gives an acknowledging nod. “I’d be very happy if you did,” Eleven says. She loves having Jonathan as an older brother, really she does, but Billy lets her play with his hair. And in her books, that really ups the scale.

He smiles at her, and El considers that a win.

You notice him shift next to you, and then he’s leaning forward to whisper in your ear. “Come with me?” He cocks his head in the direction of the door.

He gets up, assuming you’ll follow him. You always do.

When you’ve shut the door, you move to the porch swing. It’s your favorite spot out here, and Joyce says it makes her happy to see someone use it. She used to sit there with Will in the mornings after Jonathan left for school and read to him. She did the same with Jonathan, but he was a much more fidgety kid, wanting to find something else to do.

Billy lights a cigarette, and you watch where he fidgets with the ring on his middle finger.

He’s standing a little ways away from you so as to not breathe the smoke directly in your vicinity, but you wish so badly that he was closer. You like having him close. The weight of his body next to you, the warmth, how solid his arm feels when it’s pressed to yours or when he slides down on the couch some and it's more so pressed to your side.

“Which part of it are you worried about?” you ask him.

He shrugs. “You really think they want me there? You think Max wants me around?” “Billy, I know she does. And I know that voice in your head is telling you that it’s a pity invite, but it’s not. And, besides…” you trail off, but he’s not having that. He needs you to reassure him.

“Besides what?”

You look up at him. “I want you to go. And yeah, I’ll be sad if you don’t go, but that shouldn’t sway your decision either.” You push your feet against the concrete porch a little harder, and the swing responds to the movement. You move quicker, now feeling very pleased with yourself.

Billy almost laughs at the child-like look on your face, but you look so at home on the swing that he holds it in. A grin escapes nonetheless.

“Say that again.” He stubs out his cigarette in the ashtray either Hopper or Joyce have left outside. He’s watching you again.

“What?” He’s not gonna let you go all shy on him now. He needed to hear that. He needs to hear it.

“You know what.”

“I want you to go.”

“Then it’s settled. Need to get out of this shithole anyways.”

————

The place Steve found is about two hours from Hawkins, with three bedrooms, a shockingly luxurious pull-out couch, and bigger common areas than you’ve ever laid eyes on. Excluding the ones in Steve’s house. In short, the rental is like Hopper’s cabin, if Hopper’s cabin were updated and substantially larger. It feels like the kind of place rich people have to take weekend trips. You’d rather not find out how much Steve is paying for the lot of you to stay there.

Robin takes you on a grand tour while everyone else explores the backyard. Dustin is already determined to climb a tree. One of the rooms has two sets of bunk beds, dedicated to the four boys. “To ensure no cootie-spreading,” Robin proclaims.

She and Steve will share the couch, with Max and Eleven in the smaller bedroom.

Robin stops at the end of the hallway. “Which leaves…”

You and Billy.

You and Billy Hargrove.

Sharing a room.

Sharing a bed.

Speaking of, the man in question brushes past you, setting his bag on the floor at the foot of the bed. Robin takes that as her queue to leave and gives you a thumbs up on the way out. You hope she can feel your death stare on the back of her head, and she knows it, being quick to run down the hall.

“So we’re roomies, huh?” Billy says, gathering his hair at the base of his neck. You hadn’t even realized he had a tie on him, and it takes him finishing off a lazy bun to realize it’s a blue scrunchie. You have to bite your lip to keep from saying anything.

“I can sleep with Max and El, if you want. Or–”

That crease between Billy’s brows forms. “Why would you do that?”

You’ve gone all warm. You’d have to sleep in bed with him. And you sit next to him all the time, but this is different. Isn’t it?

Maybe it’s not so weird. You’re just friends. It’s like a sleepover, right?

“I don’t know, you might not want to sleep together or something.”

He cocks a brow, but you catch the double meaning of your words just in time. “You know what I mean, Billy.”

He sits on the end of the bed, and reaches out for you. You move towards him slowly, but the moment you’re within his grasp, Billy spreads his legs and grabs your waist, slotting your body between them.

“You can go if you really want to. If you think I’ve got cooties or somethin’ and you don’t wanna share a bed with me.”

You snort, and Billy drinks in the sound, knowing he’s the one that made you laugh.

“I don’t think you’ve got cooties.”

You realize in that moment that his hands haven’t left their spot on your waist, never straying anywhere else. The weight of them on you is enough to keep you focused on him, and he seems to acknowledge that.

“Then what is it?” he asks, in that low drawl you fear could get out any answer he wanted from you.

You hesitate, but say it anyway. “You don’t think it’ll be weird? Sleeping in the same bed?”

Billy fights the urge to rest his forehead against your stomach. He wants to tell you he’s wished you were in his bed on more than one occasion. Sometimes he just wishes you were there so it wouldn’t feel so cold, so he’d have someone to pull him out of his thoughts before they eat him alive altogether.

“No, I don’t think it’ll be weird.”

You nod your head, and try to move back from him.

Billy whines. “Uh uh. Nope.”

You go to put your hands on your hips, and they graze Billy’s on the way. He grabs hold of them. “You don’t want to have a sleepover with me?”

Billy’s looking up at you with those watery blue eyes, and you know this is a battle you’ll never win.

“Really?”

He lets out a breath of a laugh, and your eyes fall to his neck when he tosses his head back.

“Yeah, baby.”

Baby.

It feels like every cell in your body has been sent into overdrive, like you can’t compute a single coherent thought. All because Billy called you “baby”.

And if he’s being honest with himself, he feels the same way. He hadn’t meant to say it. It’s just that he calls you “baby” in his head all the time, and it just…happened.

“I’d love to have a sleepover with you, Hargrove.”

“Mhm. Thought so.”

This time he lets the laugh out, and it’s a beautiful sound. The kind of sound you’d commit unspeakable acts to hear again. And this time, he does let his forehead drop to rest on your stomach. It surprises you, but you’re not mad about it.

“Oh, fuck off,” you say, and you can feel his chuckle against your skin.

When he quits, you find yourself just standing there, find your hands moving around his back. He’s always so warm. You rub your hands up and down his back, the denim of his jacket rough on your fingertips.

You feel him shift, feel his change in position, the hard press of his chin against you. Billy is looking up at you, and you know he’s hoping you’ll return his gaze. His eyes bore into yours, and you hate to think of what you must look like from this angle. Clearly he doesn’t mind.

You push a curl behind his ear, a shockingly perfect ringlet that’s too short to be contained like the rest of them.

Billy would be taken aback by the gesture if it weren’t for the fact that you always go this easy on him. Like you know he’s healing, in more ways than one.

“We can’t stay here forever, you know. I wanna go look around.”

“Yeah,” he laughs. “I’m sure it’s riveting.” He lets you go anyway, following you down the hall to the rest of the cabin.

————

Your back rests on the base of an oversized chair, one that’s surprisingly comfy, your body in between Robin’s legs. She’s sitting next to Steve, watching you moderate El, Lucas, and Will play Twister. Dustin’s already out.

“Right hand blue.”

“You’re kidding right?”

“Sinclair, have you never played this game before?”

Lucas scoffs, trying to reach the blue on the other side of the mat without toppling into Will. Max went with Billy to the store, but they should be back soon. You have a sick feeling they’re taking advantage of having been given Steve’s debit card.

“Yes, I’ve played the game before. If you’re so good, why don’t you get down here and show us how it’s done, Harrington?”

“Yeah, Harrington, why don’t you show us how flexible you are?” Billy’s voice makes you look up from where you’ve been mindlessly twisting the spinner on the board around with the tip of your finger.

He stands just inside the living room, holding the door open with his leg. He kicks it shut once Max has made it in. She heaves the paper bags she’d been holding up and onto the counter. Steve rises to help unpack them. You follow on instinct, handing the spinner to Robin instead, and Dustin is quick to take Steve’s spot before Mike can.

Billy won’t let you take anything from him, but he will let you help figure out what the hell to do with all of it. “Do I even want to know how much you both spent?” you ask.

He gives you that fucking smile, and you know you don’t. “Max said she wanted to have a spa night–whatever that means–with El, so we sort of split up. I’m sure Steve’ll live.”

“For your information, Lucas,” Steve continues, clearly not ready to let the quips towards his limberness go, “I was the captain of the swim team.”

“What’s that got to do with being flexible, dingus?” Robin directs the two remaining players, the young boy in question having just busted his ass.

“Swimming is an art form, Rob. You gotta learn to respect it.”

You choke on a laugh, and Billy is quick to rub your back while he chuckles into your shoulder.

“Something funny over there?” Steve questions.

You straighten, trying to wipe the smile from your face though it’s to no avail. “Nope, Steven. I’m sure you’re just incredibly stretchy. Like Mr. Fantastic.”

His brow furrows. “Mr. Fantastic?”

Dustin snorts, elbow deep in a bag of chips, and you quickly realize that you probably shouldn’t have given him an opening, but you don’t exactly regret it either.

The lot of you spend the rest of the night in this fashion, playing games, eating way too much food, taking turns smacking the top of the television so your movie will keep playing.

It feels like home. It feels safe. You wish it always felt this way.

————

You’d just finished brushing your teeth when you hear the bedroom door click shut, hear footsteps you can tell are in search of you.

You peek your head out of the bathroom and Billy grins at the sight of you in pajamas, a smear of moisturizer on your forehead you’ve yet to rub in.

He squeezes in the small room, about the same size as his at home, to join you. There’s something about this moment, the domesticity of it, that makes your heart swell. It feels like something you could get used to, getting ready for bed with him. Neither of you have to say anything, you just do your own thing, but having him be there, having his presence–it’s more than enough for you.

When you climb into bed, you try and read for a while, the sounds of Billy washing his face comforting you. You find it easy to read even when he does get in with you, the mattress sinking underneath his weight, the sheets rustling as he moves around experimentally, trying to get comfortable in a bed that isn’t his own.

You feel odd though, reading when he’s right there, so it isn’t long before you close the book and slide further into the covers with him. Billy’s quick to turn on his side, wanting to see you like this.

He watches you yank the blankets up to your chin, looking at him over a blur of fluffy white comforter. “It’s fuckin’ freezin’ in here,” you tell him.

“C’mere then.”

You burrow further into your pillow, fearing you know exactly what he’s going to suggest. “Huh?”

“You’re cold. You always whine about me being warm or somethin’ and I’m telling you to come here.”

“Billy.”

“Stop.” He lifts the covers up some, untucking you from them, and he wraps his arm around your back, tugging you into his side.

Suddenly you’re pressed against him, having slid across the sheets easier than you’d have imagined.

He’s let go of you, his arm hovering over your back. “You want me to hold you or no?”

“Yeah.”

Billy lets his arm drop against your side, his fingers splaying out over your back. He rubs his hand up and down your spine, hoping it’ll warm you up. “This okay?”

“Yes.”

He nods. You’re looking at him like he’s something special.

Billy realizes, in that moment, that that’s how you’ve always looked at him. Even before.

He also realizes that your hands are tucked under your chin and your legs are curled up and into you like you’re afraid of making any contact with him.

“You can loosen up, you know. It’s just me.”

You let out a breath of a laugh, and he can feel it against the skin of his neck.

“It’s okay, I promise. You can touch me.” Billy has this feeling that you’re afraid of hurting him. He’s sure you’ve noticed that he’s wearing a shirt to bed, something he never did before. And he thinks that you’re worried he’ll break.

“You’re sure?”

“Wouldn’t have said so otherwise.”

He watches you unfold your hands and stretch your arm over him, hooking it around his hip. You want to rub up and down his side, but you’re nervous.

It’s just me.

“Do they hurt at all?”

Your thumb skates up a little further, and you don’t have to tell him what you mean.

“Not all the time,” he says, voice low and thick with drowsiness. “At first, yeah, like hell. Now it’s just sometimes. They can feel a little tight, or just bug me. Depends, I guess.”

You nod, feeling brave enough now to slide your hand up a little further. Your touch is light, barely there. You close your eyes, trying not to think about when it happened. How he’d screamed.

He can tell when you’ve calmed down some, because your arm relaxes and you hug him a little more firmly. You scoot in a little closer, close enough that your noses would touch if you tried to make them.

“Goodnight, Billy.”

He makes the move, dragging the tip of his nose across your forehead. He kisses the top of your head, and you grin so wide you feel like a kid in a candy shop.

“Goodnight, baby.”

————

When you wake up, you almost don’t want to disturb him, but you know you should get out of bed.

Billy is sprawled out on his stomach, having separated from you at some point during the night. His tank top is rucked up from the tossing and turning of sleep, and you look away when you catch a glimpse of pink skin. It doesn’t feel like your place to look.

You wander out of the room, carefully shutting the door behind you. You make it down the hall, and find that Robin seems to be the only other one awake. You should’ve guessed. She told you once before that her body doesn’t seem to let her sleep in.

Steve is still passed out on the pull-out couch, completely covered by the blankets. The only sign of him is a tuft of messy hair against the light colored pillow case his head rests on.

Robin waves at you from her perch at the kitchen counter, a bowl of cereal in front of her. “Want some?” she whispers, pushing the box in your direction.

You fill up your own bowl, having a feeling that Robin is about to ramble.

“Sleep okay?” she asks.

“Mhm. You?”

“Fine. Though, y’know, Steve is a horrific bed hog. Seriously, he was half on top of me the whole night. I might have to bunk with Max and El.”

You laugh, and Robin takes that as her queue to ask what she’s been pondering since she woke up.

“Was it okay? Sleeping with Billy? Well, not like that. Well, I’m assuming not like that, not that there’s anything wrong with that, but I just meant like actually sleeping? Please stop me.”

You grin at her. “Please breathe, Rob.” She does, over exaggerating her inhales. “And it was fine.”

“Okay, good. I was kind of worried you’d be frustrated with my matchmaking tendencies. I just really want you two to be happy. And he seems so calm when he’s with you, and I realize I’ve just told you that I’ve been pushing you two together and I–”

You wipe milk from your chin, having almost spit out your cereal. “Robin, sweetheart, it’s okay, I promise. I know about your matchmaking tendencies. But I think we’re just friends, right?”

“Just friends, my ass.” You hadn’t even seen Steve get up, but he’s reaching for the fridge and pulling out a carton of chocolate milk. He really can’t say anything about Dustin’s eating habits when he has the exact same diet.

“Oh my god.”

“Listen, I’m just saying, there’s been something going on between you two since before the world went to shit. I don’t know why you two tiptoe around each other like it’s not obvious that you’re in love.”

“Steve!” you exclaim. “Seriously, what the hell? I’ve been up for like twenty minutes and you two are schooling me on my love life?”

“Or lack thereof,” Robin says.

“Okay, damn. You know what, I’m going back to bed.”

Steve pushes your bowl back towards you when you attempt to get up. “No, you’re not. I’m just saying, there’s no sense in avoiding this. You both clearly feel a lot for each other, and I don’t see any reason to avoid it when you could be together.”

He’s being vulnerable with you, his big brown eyes boring into yours and trying to convey how serious he’s being.

“Just think about it, okay? There’s no harm in talking about how you feel with him. And don’t say that you don’t feel anything, because that’s a goddamn lie.”

————

Billy’s had his swim trunks on all day, but he hasn’t done more than sit in the shade by the pool while everyone else makes a mess and plays ridiculous games in the water.

It’s killing him to watch you in there from time to time, swimming around or sitting in the shallow end. You told him once that swimming calms you down.

It’s not until after dinner, when everyone has moved inside for the most part, though there seems to be the plotting of a water balloon fight out front, that he’s brave enough to head for the pool.

You follow him out there, see him contemplating the water.

“Whatcha doin’?”

Billy drops the cigarette he’d been smoking, snubbing it out. “Thought about going for a swim,” he tells you.

“That sounds nice.”

“Mhm.”

“I can go back inside, if you want.”

Billy turns to face you. “No. No, I want you to stay.” He wants you to see. He can’t explain why, but he does.

“Okay.”

He takes a shaky breath, hoping you don’t catch it. You do. You always do.

“I just…wasn’t ready for everyone to see.”

“I understand, Billy.”

You know what he’s really saying. He wasn’t ready for everyone to see. But he’s ready for you to see.

“I can get in first, if that helps. And I won’t look if you don’t want me to,” you say.

“That helps, yeah. And you can look. It’s okay.”

He watches you wade in, watches the way your swimsuit changes color as you tread water.

Billy takes another deep breath, and he’s pulling his shirt off. He’s quick though, diving straight into the deep end, knowing he needs to get it over with.

When he comes up, his hair is sticking to his forehead, and he flips it out of the way, giving you a glimpse of the broad pink scar on his chest.

He meets you halfway, and you think he’s in a serious mood until he’s splashing you like a child.

“You motherfucker!”

You get him back, and he’s laughing.

Billy is laughing and he looks so pretty in the last of the day’s sunlight, beads of water sliding over his collarbones and down his arms, and you feel like you could die. Like seeing him this way is enough. You don’t need anything else.

You try to return a particularly aggressive splash, but he catches your waist, pulling you up and over his shoulder.

“Billy!”

“What?” His voice is teasing. He tosses the rest of the way over, your laughter fading out into the water.

You come up, a brilliant smile on his face. Billy’s sure if you stood close enough you’d be able to hear his heart beating.

When you’ve both gone quiet, your eyes drop to the scars on his sides, the way they stretch across his skin, mean and twisting. Some spots are darker than others, and while it hurts you to look at them, you know it must hurt him even more. But he looks just as beautiful as before, if not increasingly so.

“See something you like?” Billy says it on instinct. To hide the fact that he’s worried you don’t really like it. That maybe you think he’s gross looking. But he knows that’s all in his head. He fucking knows it.

“You’re fucking gorgeous, Billy Hargrove.”

You say it with such surety, such admiration, that he can’t even begin to doubt that you mean it.

He smiles at you. It’s boyish. You’d do anything to see a million more of them.

He moves towards you, the sky having darkened enough that the outside lights have come on, the lights in the pool too. All that remains of the sun is a slash of deep orange, though the night quickly pushes it away.

Billy’s got you backed up against the wall of the pool now. His hands find your sides.

It’s overwhelming, having him this close. You can feel his breath on your face, see the rise and fall of his chest, the freckles on his cheeks.

When he kisses you, you think your heart stops. His mouth is warm against yours, and he tastes a little like chlorine, but you don’t care. Your hands find his face, and you’re smiling so hard that he pulls away because he wants to see. You don’t let him for long though, pulling him back, wanting more. He laughs into your mouth, and your chest aches with this feeling.

Eventually you do let go, and when you hold his eye contact, he knows what you’re going to say. He needs to tell you first, though.

“I’m in love with you, you know.”

“I know,” you respond.

He tosses his head back in a laugh, and you press a sweet kiss to his throat.

“I’m in love with you too, Billy.”

“Damn right you are.”

You snort against his chest, lowering slightly to kiss his scar. His breath catches. He doesn’t know what he did to deserve you.

“About fucking time!” Steve’s shouting and Robin is yelling, and Max would be making barf sounds if she wasn’t so pleased with seeing her brother so happy.

“So much for that,” Billy says.

But you wouldn’t have it any other way.

————

“I’m regretting this, Billy.”

“Stop whining.”

Billy wraps his arms tighter around your back, pressing a kiss to your jaw in hopes that you’ll let him keep doing this.

“Get off.”

“No.”

“Get off, please.”

“Make me.”

There’s the sound of a slap, your hand having met his ass.

He raises his head from where he’d buried it in your chest, looking at you drowsily. “You just spanked me.”

And you’d do it again.

“Didn’t work, did it?”

“No. Shut up and take it.”

By that he means continue letting him lay on top of you, his entire body pressed to yours. It doesn’t matter to him that there’s an entire bed, one that’s made for two people.

You settle for playing with his hair, something he seems to enjoy, and you’d mess with him about the fact that he’s essentially purring if it weren’t for him looking so content.

He might be heavy, but having Billy Hargrove sleep on top of you isn’t exactly something you just give up.

He’s never had this before.

Hell, you’ve never had this before.

And he thinks it’s healing him. More than the salve he puts on his scars, or the physical therapy, or fixing up the Camaro.

You’re healing him. You.

————

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