#especially since he's always compared to Hopper and papa

[sublimecatgalaxy]

Precious Cargo

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x Female!Hopper!Reader

Summary: This is an account following the reader who was a subject from Hawkins Lab that escaped with the help of Peter Ballard, before knowing his true self. Hopper found her before the government did (thankfully) and took her under his wings just like he did with El.

Following the move of the Byers, with El, to California and everything that happens with Vecna, the reader and Hopper move back into his Cabin in the woods, taking the time to fix it up. She has trouble adjusting, even after the years of being free from the lab, she still struggles to fit into the puzzle that is Hawkins. But with the new friends she's made while attempting to save the world and the object of her attraction, Billy, she begins to understand what it's like to be an actual 18 year old, not a lab rat.

Reader: Very little descriptive traits other than female pronouns and anatomy; Racially/ethnically neutral.

Time Era: Post-Season 4 vol. 1 and 2; very non-canon (Billy and Hopper live)

Fic Songs: "The Drug In Me Is You" by Falling in Reverse; "18" by Anarbor; "R U Mine" by Arctic Monkeys

Word Count: 4.4k

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of death, angst, recollection of pretty much all things that have happened in Seasons 1-4 of ST, smut and smutty actions (minors DNI).

Read this A/n: Inclusivity is important and sometimes by putting "hopper!reader" it implies that the reader is white since it would be his biological daughter but in this case, being a Hawkins patient, the readers descriptions are extremely vague. On that note: Look guys, an actual original work based on a few requests I've gotten.

When I escaped from Hawkins Lab, I had roughly one thousands words in my vocabulary.

I was mentally and academically averaging with that of a four year old, my mind not capable of such complicated sentences that I should've been able to fathom at almost fifteen years old. I was behind in a sense, way behind, compared to the peers. Peter always told me that I was different and that, though I was quiet by lack of teaching, I was smart and observant. It was what helped me get out of there along with his loyal help.

But not only was I behind my peers at the lab but I was also behind in regards to the friends that I met when I started my life in Hawkins, tucked away in the woods with my sister Eleven and Hopper, the kind Sheriff who took us in.

He had an unbelievable amount of patience for the two of us, especially when it came to me. El had excelled more in her studies at the lab and she was one of the more favored children that Papa- Doctor Brenner- spent his time with. I, on the other hand, was a second thought most of the time, my abilities and powers not excelling until after I left the lab and did my own research along side my younger equal.

Hopper was always unbelievably shocked at the power that Eleven and I both possessed at a young age, his eyes watching us closely whenever we'd get in a heated argument, worried that the house could quickly go up in flames. El was far more destructive than I was, quick to use her emotions against another person, her emotions clouding her judgement almost always.

On the opposite end of the spectrum, I had control of my powers from a young age. I worked with Doctor Brenner for nearly ten years, working on fine tuning all of the electricity, all of the emotion and fury built in my system, learning how to focus it. It led me to not using it that often unless I could be helpful, for instance, at the Star Court mall.

El was struggling with her own powers, seemingly sucked dry by the Mind Flayer and the being it created using the towns people of Hawkins. It was twisted to watch, to realize that the same science behind my powers- El's powers- was the being, this other dimension.

Frightening doesn't begin to describe how I felt when the group actually sat me down and explained DnD and how it plays into the curse that Hawkins seems to be blessed with. I don't know what was more overwhelming; to learn that I actually have a role in all of the chaos or just listening to Dustin explain Dungeons and Dragons.

But I had to learn one way or another. Dustin and the rest of the boys taught me their different interests between the supernatural world and the more wholesome things they enjoyed like their favorite movies and comic books. It was fun to get to just watch them smile and laugh, talking over each other for hours on end and drag me around the arcade. The arcade was definitely one of my favorite spots when I first started easing into the new world that I was thrown into.

Nancy and Robin helped me develop a sense of style and how to fit in as a young girl in the 80s. I learned quickly that I wasn't the biggest fan of makeup and I definitely wanted nothing to do with Steve's famous hairspray that he held so dearly to his heart. Speaking of Steve, he and Eddie played their role in helping me navigate the world of music, eventually coming to the conclusion that I'm not a metalhead like Eddie.

Hopper and Joyce helped me learn, how to read, how to compute simple math; they were pretty much my teachers for primary and secondary education. They never wanted me to experience the troubles that high school brings along for normal teenagers, it already being difficult for people who weren't secluded three stories underground for most of their lives.

Everything was falling into place until the Byers family and El moved to California following the Mall incident and I was left alone, fending for myself after Hopper disappeared. The whole experience crushed me, to finally have a family, just for them to be ripped away; it was terrible.

I bounced around from house to house, mostly staying with Steve in his guest bedroom but occasionally spending the night on Max's floor, knowing that she has terrible nightmares after watching her step-brother, Billy, almost die at the hands of the other flayed.

Billy was most definitely an accidental friend that I picked up on throughout the months following saving his life at the Mall. Max liked to joke that we were trauma bonded together since he understood what it was like to be stuck in your body but to not have control over it, just like how I felt back at the lab under the care of Doctor Brenner.

I had only heard brief stories of him through Max and El, especially once they found out that he was being flayed and used as a pawn. I had to dig a lot into his future, into his mind, without his permission to help Max get him back without losing him in the process. I think it was ultimately easier for him and I to become friends because I already knew about his deepest secrets without him having to tell me.

It took me months to actually tell him my story, that I was a lab rat all those years, that I depended on my friends to help me develop my own personality, my own individuality. I was a shell of a person when Hopper found me stumbling outside in the woods in the freezing cold and everyone I met following that helped shape me into the person that I am today.

Max told me one time that Billy spent a whole afternoon asking her about me, that he was so unbelievably interested in me after I saved his life and that he wanted to figure out a way to make it up to me. That was the first instance where she really noticed that he was changing into the type of person that she was proud to be step siblings with.

And he just continued to change following that.

After defeating Vecna by some odd chance of fate, Hopper returning soon after, he was skeptical to see that I had made friends with the Hargrove boy only because he knew of his dad. Hopper told me a story one night about how he had gone to Billy's house frequently, arresting his father after Billy got the shit beat out of him following a simple argument. It made me afraid for him, that I was crashing on his younger sisters floor all that time and I didn't realize that he was in more danger than I was.

I never told him that I knew about his dad until his father was permanently imprisoned and him, Max and her mother moved into the trailer park, right across the street from Eddie. He was embarrassed that I knew for that long but, again, was overall relieved that he didn't have to tell me himself.

And after a few dinners, Billy grew on Hopper just like he grew on me.

He was no longer feared by anyone in the group, he was no longer labeled the bad guy and it seemed like he had finally dropped all of the toxic behavior he clung so desperately onto. It was better for his and Max's relationship and it was better for our eventual relationship.

But the hardest part of dating Billy in the beginning had to be the lack of quality dating advice that I was getting from Robin and Steve. Robin gave semi-decent advice but considering she was and still is a closeted lesbian who pines after the same girl without attempting to get to know her better, it was a long shot to trust her. Steve on the other hand was the opposite, he knew too much about women but not a lot of it was accurate. And with the tiny detail regarding him and Billy fighting that one time, he wasn't exactly thrilled at me cuddling up with him.

Eddie on the other hand was much more helpful. The man has quite the knowledge of both men and women, if you know what I'm saying, and was always extremely helpful on both ends when it came to helping me through situations but also giving me pointers on how I should/could act around Billy.

Eventually him and I were actually going steady in a real relationship.

It was odd for me at first, a real eighteen year old in a real relationship to a real man. But to deal with the personality differences and the sarcasm, it was something that I was terrible at reading but after spending so much time with Max and Billy, I learned quickly.

And now, hell, I'm a seasoned pro.

Minus the vocabulary, we're still working on that.

"I'm telling you- no, promising you- you'll be great at it. Just give it a try." Max grins beside me, grasping my hand in hers and we slide out onto the ice, my skates wobbling beneath me. I turn back to Billy who skates behind us, his legs as steady as can be and his smile genuine as he nods me on.

"Go on, you know I'll catch you if you fall on your ass. Wouldn't want anything happening to it." He winks, Max groaning immediately in disgust and I feel my cheeks warm in the freezing room, my gasp forcing cool air into my lungs. Sometimes it's difficult to pick up on his innuendos, but given the sly smile and the wink he throws my way, I can only assume he means it in a sexual manner. I bite at my lip as I think of a reply, a light bulb going off in my head as I recall Billy's favorite nickname for me.

"Precious cargo." I repeat with a nod, my lips fanning out in a pretty smile and he clicks his tongue proudly, reaching forward to pat my cheek sweetly.

"Damn right, sunshine." Proudly, I let Max lead me further onto the ice. My breath reflects as a cloud in the air, my brows pulling together in concentration as I do my best to follow Max's instructions on how to skate. This is the last time I'm trusting them when they tell me they have a surprise for me. But who am I kidding, I said that last time.

Max lets go of my hand after a few moments of me balancing, skating around in a circle and her auburn hair swooshes gracefully as she skates away from us and towards Lucas.

"Is this, uh," I pause, catching Billy's curious eyes as I try to think of the right phrase, "a double date?" His laugh makes me smile, the sound being more than a comfort to me and he glides forward in a simple move, setting his hands on my waist with a nod.

"Yeah, you could say that." Things have changed his opinion of Lucas recently with his father going to jail, previously hating the boy deeply due to his fathers deep rooted racism. But now that he was free of his fathers beliefs and Max could do what she wants without Billy having to fear he'll pay for it, it's nice and amicable between everyone.

"I'm not good at this." I mutter, looking down at my buckling ankles as Billy holds tightly onto me, securing me flush against him. "Hopper would laugh at me." I chuckle, feeling Billy's warm lips against my chilly cheek, the chaste smooch making my whole body warm by at least ten degrees.

"Yeah, he probably would. But you're not doing bad, you just have to practice." My eyes roll at the word practice, given my love/hate relationship with the word throughout the last few years of learning new things, is not something I like to hear. "You're a pro at practice, huh?" He nudges my nose with his, my lip parting dumbly at his proximity. "Hell, when I first met you, you could barely say a word to me. Now I've got you moaning more than my name." My hands reach up to cover my face in embarrassment, hating when he talks to me like that, so mischievous and lustful. Hate is not exactly the word I'd use to describe it. I love it but the lack of response that I always give him makes my stomach churn with anxiety.

"Billy." I huff, hitting my fists against his chest.

"See?" He teases, leaning down to catch me off guard with a kiss. I immediately respond with a quiet hum, my lips melding against his just like I know how to. "Good girl." His whisper sends a shiver down my spine, the ice rink suddenly seeming like a sauna to me as I take a much needy step back, putting some distance between his loving gaze and my heated thoughts.

The day was supposed to be quiet following that, going back to his trailer and then going home for my nightly check in at Hoppers. He was keen on making sure that I know that I'm free to go wherever I want, whenever. But I always have to be with someone else and I have to come home or at least call at six o'clock every night. Considering my situation and how El reacted to her house arrest, I think that my 'follower' attitude paid off.

But my quiet day turned into Billy and I having the trailer alone, Max is out with Lucas and his step-mom took an overnight shift. It's rare that we get any time alone at all here, typically only being able to sneak time when Hopper would go out on errands or go to work.

"We're alone." I whisper, soothing my hands over Billys shoulders and he smiles boyishly, hands splaying across my thighs. "It's quiet." My eyes flutter shut and my ears tune into the sounds around me, the quietness and stillness calming my racing heart. Still, after all this time with Billy, he still makes me so nervous.

"Let me close the door and then we can-" The door shuts with a simple flick of my wrist, my brows raising in an attempt to be playful and he grins, tugging me down onto his lap and I squeal. "Never thought I'd date a superhero." He whispers, eyes dark as he watches my lips move, my tongue sweeping out to wet my lips but to also tease him like he loves. "Kinda badass." I almost can't contain myself, the pleading words on the tip of my tongue not articulating in the ways that I want them to. "Tell me what you want." I know that what he's asking for is not a lot but it's so overwhelming to already struggle with words but also feel so overwhelmingly giddy and anxious in someones presence. "Do your best, c'mon." I smile, relaxing onto his lap and I take a deep breath in, reminding myself that this is Billy, he knows me possibly better than anyone.

"You. I want you." My fingers grip at his shirt, already used to doing this with him before but still not completely used to being intimate with someone in this way. Any thoughts of pleasure, any feeling or inclination of sexuality, all were quickly shut down at the lab; in fact, we were punished for it. Billy's yet to learn the true extent of how traumatizing it all was but even without the full story, he's more than understanding. "I just-"

"I know." He smiles, fingers soothing over my hips, his fingers brushing under my shirt to tease my bare skin. "You go slow and I'll go slow." He promises, his eyes sincere and soft even though there's still his normal touch of mischief behind his hues. "Tell me," kissing me gently, he smiles, "what you want." He waits patiently for me to reply as the room darkens, the sky outside slowly fading into nighttime and I kick myself for not being better- faster- at this already.

"To feel good- to feel you." My eyes dip bashfully away from his, fingers toying with the necklace that rests against his collarbones.

"Alright. Do you want my fingers?" The question makes me laugh nervously, hands reaching up to cover my face and I tuck myself into his shoulder. "C'mon, sweetheart. Talk to me. Do you want my fingers?" His thumbs brush against my inner thighs, my thighs clenching beside his. "Or my lips." He trails kisses down the expanse of my neck, my skin erupting in goosebumps at the feeling of his lips trailing down to my shoulder. "Or do you want all of me, hmm?" He cups my cheeks, forcing my gaze to meet his and he smiles softly. "That seems to be your favorite." I chuckle, nodding my head and I pull on his shirt, needing less clothing and more of him.

He slips his shirt over his head, tossing it to the ground and my lip tucks between my teeth in giddy excitement. Taking a chance, I rest my hands on his chest, silently urging him backwards to lay back against the bed. His brows lift in proud shock but he lays down anyways, arms resting under his head. He lets me trail my fingers over the plates of his abdomen, tracing his skin and loving the shiver that it invokes from him. I trace over the deep, long scar that spans down his sternum, my lips tugging down into a brief frown as I recall the events at the mall where he almost died- where I almost lost him.

"Hey..." He trails off, catching my attention and I look up at him, realizing he caught me sulking. "I'm here. With you." He reaches down to take my hands in his, pressing sweet kisses to both of them before allowing me to continue.

"Can I...?" I toy with the edge of my sweater, watching his head nod and he helps me lift my shirt over my head, tossing it towards his. He smiles warmly at the sight of my exposed skin, hands immediately resting on my waist and he moves quick, leaning up to press silly kisses to my stomach. I giggle, flopping down on the bed beside him and I try to escape his grip but he's too strong. He pulls away from me with a chuckle, capturing my lips in a sweet kiss before leaning away from me, giving me space to catch my breath.

"Do you want to be on top? Or me?" He asks, his questions helping me feel more comfortable and this whole experience feel more paced out instead of rushed and overwhelming.

"You. I like it more." He doesn't hesitate to slip on top of me, hips resting against mine and his arms cage me in. My hands slide up and down his back like muscle memory, tracing over the moles that I know are there.

"Yeah, sweetheart? You like it more when I take care of you? Do all the work?" His teasing voice makes me giggle, my back arching towards him as I fight the urge to hide from embarrassment.

"I'm lazy." I shrug, pulling a snort out of him and he pecks my lips once more before leaning up onto his knees, hands soothing over my thighs.

"You're cute." He winks, fingers hooking in the waistband of my pants. I nod slowly, giving him silent permission and he slides my legs individually out of my confines, a sigh leaving my lips in relief. "Feelin' okay?" He asks, leaning down to press a kiss to my bent knee.

"Great, keep going." I bite at my lip with a smirk, knowing by the surprised look on his face that he's amused. He just pulls me down further onto the bed by my ankles, a giggle leaving me and his body slides down on top of mine.

"Bossy." He mutters against my lips, gently parting my thighs with his hand to make room for himself. He nudges against me, the feeling making my body jump against him and a quiet moan leave me. "You wanna go fast or slow?" His hips drag against mine, his lip tightly tucked between his teeth and he leans down to cover my neck in heated, open mouthed kisses and my brain stops for a second.

"Both." I snicker, knowing he's rolling his eyes without even seeing him. A playful slap lands on the underside of my thigh, my ankles linking behind his back and he laughs.

"Both- what a smartass. You're good at pickin' up on shit, huh?" He grins at my proud nod, knowing that I've made great strides over the time we've been together. I used to barely be able to kiss him and now, with his help and questions, I'm able to verbalize what I want from him in every aspect of our relationship.

"Just don't tease me too much. I'm, uh, inpatient." My hips jump against his, my nails digging into his back and he moans, lips parting against mine. He can barely kiss me, the feeling of the scratches I'm leaving on his back has him completely done for.

"Wouldn't want to make you wait, now would we?" He's quick to slip out of his jeans, his lips finding mine in a comforting, distracting kiss. He's always said that kissing is really important when it comes to doing anything sexual, that it makes him feel closer to me and that it helps distract and relax me. And he's right in every way, shape and form. "You ready?" He asks but my hands are already pushing his boxers down needily, loving the laugh I draw from him as he helps me. My eyes avert away from him nervously as his fingers brush over my panties, skimming over my most sensitive places. "You like that? Right," he pauses, thumb circling against my bundle of nerves, "here?" I nod, my knees bending instinctively as he pushes my panties aside, not bothering them to take them off this time. He positions himself at my entrance, eyes finding mine once more and he silently asks me to go on.

"I'm okay." I brace myself, wrapping my arms around his shoulders and he pushes into me slowly, his hands moving to rest beside my head, caging me in. His thrusts are slow and hesitant at first, giving me a second to adjust but I can't seem to wipe the smile off of my face. When communication goes out the window and it's just not as easy for me to tell him how I feel, doing this, being this close to him, helps me say whatever I need to without actually having to say anything. He knows what I want and what his every move should before before I've even asked for it.

"Fuck-" He mutters against my shoulder and I chuckle breathlessly, pinching his side, subtly chastising him. I mutter 'language' under my breath, and he quickly nods, knowing that his crude words make my stomach twist. "Sorry, sweetheart." He moans, pressing a kiss to my cheek before angling his hips, the new change of pace and angle making my head tip back against the bed, a whimper falling from my lips. "You sound so pretty." He coos, gripping my hips with his free hand, biting at my lower lip as I struggle to keep up with him, losing myself in the pleasure and closeness that he offers.

"Billy, please." I plead quietly, needing more from him, anything that he can give me to speed this along, wanting nothing more than to feel the high of pleasure and feel him. His arm wraps under my waist, pulling me flush against him and I cry out, tucking my face into the crook of his neck as he pistons quickly in and out of me. His pelvis brushes up against my bundle of nerves perfectly with every thrust, drawing me closer to the edge. I can feel myself fluttering around him, the feeling of him twitching inside of me, warning me what's to come, makes a smile spread across my lips and my fingers bury in his curls.

"So close- you're so close." He whispers, his skin sticking to mine and the room only grows hotter as we both chase our highs, my hips jumping against his to meet his thrusts. I fall over the edge with a silent moan, my lips parting and my head spins. Billy follows closely behind me, biting and sucking a mark into my shoulder to keep himself from groaning too loud.

He clings to me as I do to him, tightly holding him to me as my breathing eventually mellows out into quiet gasps. My mind feels foggy and my eyes feel overwhelmingly tired, knees quivering as I unlock my ankles from behind him. He laughs as I relax against the bed, and he goes to move but I don't let him, arms tightening around his neck.

"What? You just want me to stay here forever?" He asks and I laugh tiredly, sending him a playful nod. He just pinches my thigh, slipping out of me slowly and carefully but I hiss.

"Be gentle." I huff with a pout, loving the grin that spreads across his lips and he presses a kiss to my thigh before he sliding down on top of me once more.

"I know, I know." My nose scrunches as he presses a delicate kiss to it, sending me a wink. "Precious cargo."

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o- Taglist: @bubblebuttwade @rafelover2405 @leslienjazzy @sorceresss @grxnde-dwt @alex–awesome–22 @bunnietoof @niyamar1e @serialghost @plantlungs @geniusohn @akaliltimmytim @lilaalouuxx @xshariex @elliotsbeigeguitar @elle4404 @lelieja @srhxpci @joselyn001 @taysirene @spinkspanther @thedivineuphoria @peter-maximoffs @tsukishimawhore @poohkie90 @szlaco @distantsighs @nstyles4299 @wolflover384 @givemefoodandlovesstuff @vane28282 @yeswhatever33 @amirrahfranson @vvaalleennttiinna @f-mu @yaspillz @jeyramarie @skylievin@abbybarnes17 @jointherebellion215 @visiondaddy @steezysimfinds @its-ya-gay-boi-luigi @crunchytoenailsyum@glizzymcguirex @beth123lg @melovesmut @rafecameronswhore @ariianelle @write-from-the-heart @vampviolets@haylee-e@popehaywardssecretgf @honee-chai-tea @lokiandbuckywife @smoke-and-fire @officiallyunofficialperson@heyaitsklaudia@rosepetalsparks @bluetreecloud20 @scenesofobx @double-shot-of-tequila @1dluver13xx @colbysbrocks @iamasimpingh0e @smoke-and-fire386 @loveshineslikethesky @id-3-kbro @diorsitgirl @errorfound101-allideasburnedout @neverwillknowme18 @ellyskey @taylors-folk @loversjoy @myaloveee @thyris-is @lagataprrr @aaaaslaaaan @minjix @luvrosee

[biigiiiii]

No but like writing ‘from’ instead of love is huge especially when the other person is signing ‘Love X’!

I can compare it to putting x’s at the end of texts - idk about anyone else but I have a certain number of xs I put depending on who you are and if you put more I’ll match it. If I put less I’ll feel like subconsciously I’m saying you don’t matter enough to put the same effort in.

And when I’m writing cards or letters, if they start first with love I’ll always put love back UNLESS I knew the other person liked me romantically and I didn’t like them back but wanted to let them know without having to say it (!). So Mike basically being forced to say I love you or I don’t love you must have been so stressful if he wasn’t ready to say either. Plus the fact she got the hint and was really upset about it, and in that fight it’s so clear they’re not on the same page.

Also going back to season 3, they didn’t officially get back together on screen if I remember right, so we can’t really assume either way, but if they were still broken up/on a break right up until they left for California, then maybe they really weren’t on the same page. Both of them parted ways thinking opposite things about their relationship status. Mike never responded to her I love you (which she said in response to his ‘I love her’ from months earlier, so I’m guessing that’s the first time she said that to him and it makes me wonder what the nature of their relationship/friendship was during that time period lol), and she just walked away. Next thing is them all hugging by the car and eventually leaving. Mike was probably so conflicted since that last day they were all together, and didn’t know how to tell her that he actually didn’t want to get back together. That maybe he might even like someone else.

And El, who loves romance movies and keeps a Mike shrine, thinks that they are still together and they write all the time so it must be love by now. Surely. Also she’s never seen romantic love growing up (we can assume), which usually entirely shapes our whole relationship patterns as adults. So if her romantic education is movies, of course she’s going to have the wrong idea of what real, healthy, mutual love is. And that’s not her fault. Her only experience with love until she left the lab was Papa’s fatherly love for her (which was negative) and Henry’s obsession (also negative).

I mean. I don’t study psychology, but it’s there if you look for long enough.

(EDIT - also at some point after El/Will leaving, Mike probably decided it was easier to stay as her boyfriend, because everything was so messed up and Will wasn’t reaching out, etc etc)

EDIT PART 2 - thinking about the way parental love (for us, and the love/relationship that exists between the parents too) in our childhood influencing romantic love/relationship in adulthood, if El didn’t experience true parental love from any of her parental figures pre-lab escape, then it makes sense that she is desperately searching for what she never had. She tries to find it in Mike. She finally gets it from Hopper and Joyce. That lines up with all those parallels in the show between Mike, and El’s parental figures. Boom 👀

ALSOOOO taking the above psychology analysis of parents love influencing us, we also need to remember that Mike arguably feels neglected (I won’t go in to too much detail about that because it’s been talked about before). His parents don’t seem to show much genuine interest in his feelings or wellbeing unless he is in serious danger, or extremely upset (and it’s consistently his mom who shows up in these moments). So, he has this attachment with his mom yet she never seems to be there unless he needs help. Like a real life super hero. Is El the replacement here? I mean…….. like I said I don’t have a psychology degree or anything but I think I’m on to something here haha 😂 both have mother/father issues omg. This is a codependent relationship in the absolute worst way. Because it’s platonic. It could be healing, but instead it’s destructive and hurts both of them because they’re forcing each other (and themselves) to be something they’re not. Aaaaaaaaah

[femmeharringrove]

#68 on the prompt list!

068: "We’ve been celebrating our wedding anniversary on the wrong day for the past nine years."

this took me a minute i'm so sorry oof!!

If there's anything Billy's learned, it's that his cooking skill is nothing compared to the culinary prowess of his husband. Stefano Alexander Lorenzo Harrington (a mouthful, Billy knows, he was terrified of messing it up during their vows) is king of the kitchen, and Billy enjoys everything he cooks, but sometimes Steve's menu can be used to give insight to what he's feeling.

It's one of those funny little quirks that the blonde man fell for all those years ago. After Starcourt, after he nearly died, his father cut ties with him completely and Max all but literally dragged him over to Steve's place. Steve didn't like him back then, not that Billy ever gave him a reason to like him, but the moment Max explained everything his doe eyes softened and he offered Billy a room in his house on the spot. Billy spent countless nights after that feasting on baked ziti and lasagna - "with my own pasta, none of that pre-made shit," Steve pronounced proudly as he served Billy the biggest slice of pasta he'd ever seen in his life to that point; he's outdone himself several times in the years since - and at one point realized he couldn't live a day without Steve's cooking.

He couldn't live without that blinding smile either, or without the sight of Steve chasing the Party around like a distressed young mother, or without the feeling of being wrapped up in those slender arms, face tucked into the crook of Steve's neck as the taller boy promised to keep him safe from the monsters of this and any other world. Steve told his parents Billy was just staying at the house until he found his feet, but they ended up living like that for four years before an argument between the Harrington men got ugly enough to make Steve want to leave. And so they did, after helping Steve's hoard of kids move to their respective colleges. They found themselves a little apartment in Malibu and Billy went to college that same year.

It was hard, for a while. Steve was still unsure of what he wanted to do in life and Billy struggled to find a balance between classes, his job at the garage down the street, and time with Steve. They fought, they cried, and Steve always ended up smoothing things over with Billy's favorite soups, no matter how hot it was outside, and slowly things got better.

Billy proposed to his boyfriend two years after that, and a year after that they got married, unofficially, with Hopper officiating and the Party giving Steve away. They were married on the beach on September 6th, Steve cried all through the ceremony and they spent much of that night in absolute bliss, wrapped up in each other's arms. Billy swore that the date would be one he would never forget, how could he forget? Nobody forgot their wedding date.

They've been married nine years now. He's got his engineering degree and owns the garage down the street now. Steve's artistic streak led to him opening a studio and offering art classes on top of selling his own work. They moved out of the apartment after Steve curled up to Billy's chest one night and begged for a baby. They have three of those now, bustling six-year-old Antonia, quiet three-year-old Max, and two-month-old Angelo. All three are with Auntie Max tonight, who's also moved out to the coast with Lucas and El in tow, because tonight is a special night. It's September 6th, and he and Steve are supposed to be celebrating.

Except Steve's making tiramisu and cheesecake. He's making Alfredo with shrimp and chicken and spinach, which Billy loves but knows that his husband hates. In fact, this is Billy's favorite meal, which Steve only pulls out when he's got something important to say or when Billy's feeling down. And Billy's not feeling down.

It takes some work to steal the great Stefano's attention in the kitchen, but Billy's got almost two decades worth of experience here. He hums before he touches the man - years of touch starvation and a few too many bad experiences have left the man rather skittish, especially with unexpected touches, so Billy's careful to give him warning. He presses right up against Steve's back and wraps his arms around him, fingers of his left hand slipping up under his shirt to stroke over Steve's hip while the fingers of his right hand settle just under the waistband of the brunette's sweatpants, trailing over a sensitive patch of skin. From there it's all about the kisses - little ones to the nape of Steve's neck, lazy ones on the side of his throat, nips and playful bites to the shoulder. He nuzzles at Steve's cheek a few times in between that mix and Steve lasts all of two minutes before he's melting back against Billy and gazing back at him, eyes painfully warm and full with that adoring look he always gives Billy. For a moment, the blonde can't breathe, stunned for the billionth time by Steve's beauty. He presses a soft kiss to his plump lips, slow and full of love, before nosing along his jaw.

"What are you thinking about?" he questions. Steve hums, turns from his current task of slicing his pasta dough to wrap his arms around Billy.

"You," he hums, and Billy has no doubt to the validity of that answer, but he presses anyway.

"What else?"

"What are you talking about?" Steve's eyebrow arches and Billy takes that exact moment to realize that his husband's beginning to grey, his coffee brown waves of hair showing a little speckle of silver. At thirty-five, Steve isn't really old at all, but he's got other little signs of age. He's not a lanky teenage boy anymore. But he's as stunning as ever, and Billy's heart melts as they stare at each other.

"Pretty boy, you told me you think spinach in alfredo is a sin, but you're adding it in and you only do shit like that when you've got something to share with the class. So share." His eyebrow arch as Billy opened his mouth to argue, and he hides a smile as Steve backs down.

"Fine. Sit down, Papa Blue." It's Billy's favorite nickname, received after their son Max stole the nickn baby blue. Max is biologically his, thanks to a donation from Robin. She did the same with Angelo, though their latest baby is Steve's, all big eyes and fluffy hair. Billy sits at his husband's request, and Steve sits across from him looking a little worried. "So, uh, you know how today is our anniversary?"

"Yeah, what about it?" Billy asks. Steve chews on his lip.

"Well, I called Hop this morning because he and Joyce wanna come meet little Jellybean," he begins.

"Angelo is gonna hate that nickname once he gets older," Billy warns. Steve shakes his head in amusement.

"No way, he'll love it. Or he'll at least have to tolerate it, because I'm not letting it go anytime soon. But that's besides the point. Hop and I were talking and he asked me what we did for our anniversary yesterday."

"Yesterday? Our anniversary is today, doesn't he remember?" Billy frowns as Steve runs his fingers through his hair.

"That's exactly what I said," he huffs. "But he was adamant we got married on the fifth, and so I went and checked."

"And?" Billy presses, terrified that he already knows the result. His husband bites his lip.

"And he's right. We misread the number on the date." Steve gives him a sheepish, frustrated look. "We’ve been celebrating our wedding anniversary on the wrong day for the past nine years."

"You can't be serious," Billy deadpans. Steve blinks at him.

Oh god.

It takes Billy seven seconds before he's snorting with laughter. Then he's flat-out snickering, and it doesn't take Steve long to follow. They laugh in the kitchen together until Billy's sides hurt and Steve starts to struggle for breath between his giggles.

"We've been doing it on the wrong day, what a bunch of idiots we are," Billy chuckles. Steve wipes tears of laughter away.

"Yeah, yeah," he chuckles, before his face morphs into something more apprehensive. "I'm sorry I got it wrong." Billy waves it off with one hand, a soft look settling on his face.

"Don't be. I've been making the same mistake. And I wrote the date down, I should have made my handwriting more legible." Billy's hand reaches over the table for Steve's. "Baby, I don't care that we've got the wrong date. All I care about is celebrating what we've got together, okay? I just want to celebrate the fact that I found someone who loves me more than I could ever deserve, someone who's stuck by my side through good and bad. I don't care what day we do that." He watches as Steve's anxious look melts into something significantly softer.

"Billy Hargrove, you deserve all the love this world has to offer and then some," he corrects gently. Billy's eyes crinkle softly around the edges as he smiles.

"And you've got more love in that mop on your head then the rest of the world could ever have." He stands and leans over to hold the other man's face in his hands, planting three quick kisses to his forehead. "Trust me, honey pie, you give me more love than I deserve. You give the whole world more love than it deserves." Steve's responding smile is bright and adoring, and Billy's heart melts even more.

"I love you, Billabong," he murmurs, stealing his own kiss from Billy's lips.

"And I love you, princess." They stay like that for a time, silent and content, before Steve speaks again.

"We're gonna get it right next year, right?" Billy laughs, nose wrinkling in his amusement.

"Of course. And every year after that. We can make it a two-day event, spend the first day bein' all romantic. I'm keepin' you in bed on day two, though." His smile turns into a familiar smirk. "Make you remember why you love having me around." He revels in the way his husband blushes violently, and Steve swats him away as he jumps up.

"You're a menace, Billy Hargrove. Leave me alone so I can finish cooking." He gets one last kiss before Billy backs out of the kitchen, and if he's got the same dopey grin on his face as he had in his twenties when looking at Steve Harrington, then it's neither here nor there.

[betweenpaperpages]

Hear Me Still - Chapter Four

A new store-front is set to open on main street in Storybrooke and with it brings new resident Mr. Gold to the center of attention. While he looks forward to this new step in business, it is yet unknown if his deafness will set him back once again.

Beta: @ishtarelisheba

Read on AO3!

[Chapter One] [Chapter Two] [Chapter Three]

Chapter Four: Home To Us

A week had passed since the antique shop opened, and while online sales were the same as always, Marcus had been pleasantly surprised at the attention it received. Since the town was so small he originally thought that first day or two would be busy but it seemed to hold their interest longer than a passing fancy. Though that could change at any time.

Jefferson and Grace had come back the next day to also help out, although, come Monday Grace had school and Jefferson had a deadline to meet with his next design project.

Marcus was on his own.

There were one or two instances that stood out to him. The first was with a older man named Marco. He was very pleasant company, clearly a staple member of the community as he owned one of the few restaurants around town. Marcus had to keep his eyes on the man’s lips the entire conversation. His speaking speed was good, but his faded Italian accent tripped him up from time to time, having to piece together what words he missed to gain the context of what was being said.

The second instance had been when Doctor Archie Hopper visited later in the week. Doctor Hopper was very polite as he browsed the shop, spending most of his focus on the selection of books. He chose three of them, however, when it had come time to pay, Marcus found the Doctor exceedingly soft spoken. Even with his hearing aids set at their highest sensitivity, it was still a whisper to him.

With the week now over, Marcus was glad to enjoy a Sunday off with his family to simply relax and enjoy themselves. The two of them had been intent in taking him around Storybrooke to better introduce him to the town he now called home.

xxxxx

Grace giggled, squirming on her dad’s back as she tried to escape her uncle’s tickling fingers on the back of her knees. “No!” she protested, releasing another giggle as Jeff hoisted her higher and more securely on his back.

“Not fair unless I can enact my revenge!”

“Is that so?” Marcus questioned, his eyebrow raised in doubt.

Jefferson nodded in agreement. “I’m afraid she is right.”

“No, no, I’m afraid she’s not,” he pointed out. “I recall in section a, paragraph twelve that there is a clear clause that states an exceptions for uncles. As seeing that I am your only uncle, I claim and reserve my right to that exception.”

“No fair!” “Yes fair,” Marcus replied, grinning at his adoptive niece.

Jefferson released his daughter, letting her slide off his back to land on her feet. “Now children,” he scolded in amusement, his smirk expression fondness.

“She started it.” “Did not!” Grace crossed her arms over her chest in a mock-pout, but there was clearly no animosity behind it.  

Marcus smiled brightly, wondering for a moment if this is the life he would have had, had he not chosen the path he did. A wife, a child of their own, living in some quiet town to make sure their little one had the best chance in life…

It was a pretty dream and one he could have had achieved if his life wasn’t such a mess, but he had chosen what was right for him at the time. If he hadn’t, there was no telling where he would have ended up, however; he was pretty sure he was where he was meant to be.

The three of them took a sharp turn as they headed into the town’s bed and breakfast known as “Granny’s” for lunch, Marcus surprised that not only was Granny a real person, yet that she insisted that everyone call such.

They sat at a table at the front of the diner, Marcus’ eyes focused out the bay window it faced to take in the pedestrians walking past. The idea of living in a town where everyone knew everyone was a new concept to him compared to where he had lived previously in Boston. There you were lucky if you knew your next door neighbor or the local barista at the coffee shop, where he lived before that was quite the same, such was big city life.

Soon enough a plump older woman greeted them with a notepad in hand, her glasses sitting low on the bridge of her nose as she studied them.

“What can I get for you today?”

“Ooh! Granny, can I have cola and a grilled cheese please?” Grace asked, leaning her head backwards over the chair to look at her.

“Of course,” she answered, poking Grace’s nose before the girl sat up properly. “Jeff?” she asked, taking on his order as well. “And yourself?”

Marcus’ eyes were focused on the menu in front of him, scanning over each item with consideration, startling when a hand grabbed his elbow. He jerked back in surprise only to catch that it was Jefferson touching him.

“Did you decide?” Jeff questioned gently, releasing his hold.

“Um…just... the same as yours.”

Granny nodded decisively. “Two ice teas, one cola, two burgers and one grilled cheese.” She wrote a strike on the pad before heading off to the kitchens.

“You alright?” Jefferson questioned.

Marcus nodded, more so to reassure Jefferson than himself. It was just yet another slip up of his condition; it wasn’t the first time it had happened and certainly not the last.

The food was actually quite good. Grace only stole two of his pickle spears when she thought he was distracted, claiming innocent when he attempted to find them. The mock-investigation had sent both her and Jefferson into a fit of laughter.

As their meal came to an end he found himself losing more and more words. He thought he simply didn’t catch what Granny had said when she came for the dishes and left the bill, as she was turned away from him. However, when Jefferson started to speak it was harder to understand him. Marcus caught the general idea of what he was saying, though his eyes focused more and more on reading his lips. Static built up in both of his ears before nearly everything around him silent.

“Uncle Gold?” Grace questioned, pulling on his sleeve when he didn’t offer her eye contact.

His attention snapped to her. Grace gestured to her Father, spotting a confused looking Jefferson.

He pointed to Marcus before his own ear, placing his hands in front of himself, his right hand palm up while the left was palm down, rotating them so they flipped their positions before pointing back to Marcus.

Marcus nodded, slumping back in the booth with a heavy sigh. He didn’t have any spare batteries with him or at the shop, so he would have to wait until they got home to address it.

“Papa, can we go get ice cream?” Grace asked, hopeful eyes turning on Jefferson.

He chuckled, reaching over to ruffle his daughter’s hair. “Only if I can have a double scoop pistachio, and a bite of yours.”

Jefferson looked back to a subdued looking Marcus, quickly signing to ask about ice cream before heading to the park. While he knew he wasn’t fluent, he could still hold his own in a conversation, even when he had to finger spell longer words he didn't have a sign for. Even so the idea of ice cream didn’t seem to grab his friend’s interest, merely getting a nod in response.  

“Looks like its a go!” he announced.

Grace smiled as the three of them headed out of the diner, off to Any Given Sundae, stopping to walk backwards in front of her two guardians. She was still learning sign language from Marcus, having short lessons each week, but she was getting along quite well.

With a small girl walking backwards and attempting to sign at the same time it was easy for the three of them to gain others attention. Marcus felt his cheeks flush as a group of three young women walked past with their eyes on them. Catching a glance across the street only gave way to more audience.

Typically he was more than happy to help Grace or correct her when she struggled, but with what felt like too many eyes on them, he wasn’t interested in becoming a show. He only stopped for a moment to kneel down to allow his niece to climb onto his back to make the rest of the trip as quickly and as unnoticed as possible.

Chapter Notes:

Jefferson’s first sign asks if Marcus’ hearing aid batteries are dead.

The gesturing to the ear denotes the subject matter (the hearing aids), the hands rolling for the sign “dead” (think of ‘rolling over in one’s grave’), and pointing back to Marcus establishes the noun.

In ASL, nouns are often stated twice, especially when asking a question. If you do not interpret this into English, the ASL breaks down to: “Your hearing aid dead you?”

Author Note:

I personally find that ASL grammar is similar to Yoda’s speech pattern. Straightforward, easy to identify nouns and subjects, and without a great deal of filler words. (100% my opinion, not meant to be demeaning to those who use ASL or the deaf community.))