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i-am-beckyu · 7 months ago

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Just out of Reach, but Never out of Sight

So..... it's been *looks at last update* SHEESH A YEAR ?!?! Uhhhh I'm so sorry this took so long to update, but I am far from done with this au so let's go for getting another upload! I've shared my views on the whole William Gold thing so further explanation is here. But without further a do, enjoy!

Chapter 4: Beginnings

chapter 1, chapter 2, chapter 3 cw: panic, anxiety, fear of abandonment, mentions of child abuse/neglect and a whole lot of fluff :3 wc: 3938

Disclaimer! This story is based on the characters of the Dream SMP and not the real life content creators. Anything that occurs in this story is purely fiction and should be treated as such. Thank you.

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Wilbur sat at the dining room table, his plate of syrup-drowned waffles staring back at him.

He wanted to know what Phil and Tommy were talking about and why the boy had hid under the bed.

He thought they’d calmed him down last night?

The second he’d given Tommy the little cow plushie, Wilbur noticed how the boy’s eyes had widened with wonder. It was the sweetest thing the blonde had done since he met him, and he’d had to hold himself back from cooing and wrapping the boy into a hug.

But doing that would definitely be overstepping some kind of boundary judging by Tommy’s reactions and that was the last thing the brunette wanted to do. All the evidence was right there when he’d thought about it as he drifted off to sleep the night before. The flinching, the withdrawnness and the fear of saying the wrong thing; it all just began to add up.

Tommy had been abused.

No child would be dressed in poorly put together rags and react the way they had if they hadn’t thought they were going to be hurt. Hiding under the bed was the confirmation he needed that his assumptions were true and all he could think about was how he didn’t want anyone else hurting that sweet little boy ever again.

Not if he had anything to say about it.

“What’s got you in a tizzy?”

Wilbur lifted his head to see his twin, Technoblade, leaned up against the kitchen counter with a freshly poured steaming cup of coffee.

“Morning Techno. Sorry, didn’t hear you enter.”

“It’s not like you to be up so early Wil.” The pink-haired teen commented curiously.

He couldn’t help but observe the way his brother kept their gaze trained towards the hallway as he joined them at the dining table. He could make out the muffled voice of Phil talking from the other room but not what was being said.

“Is it that kid Dad brought home?” Technoblade asked. “I heard you both calling for them this morning which woke me up.”

“Yeah, sorry about that.” Wilbur smiled apologetically as he faced his brother across the table. “We were, but Dad’s with him now under the bed.”

“He’s what?” Techno arched his brow perplexed. “Under the bed?”

“Yeah.” Wilbur sighed heavily. “I think I spooked him when I was going to come in about breakfast, and he panicked.”

He couldn’t help but think about how closed off Tommy had been the night before. The way he seemed to carefully choose his movements and would shrink back if he felt like he overdid it. He wanted to see the Tommy with the spitfire attitude. Not the child that felt the need to tread carefully through every interaction.

“I think- I think wherever he came from he was abused, Tech.”

“Well from how you and Dad described him in the messages, it certainly wouldn’t be too far-fetched to assume it.” Techno sipped his coffee as Wilbur grabbed his knife to cut into his waffles and sighed.

“Well whatever happened to Tommy, I’m hoping we can get him to open up and talk to us.”

For his sake.

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Leaving the guest bedroom had been far harder than what it should have been.

While he knew Phil was only concerned for his well being, Tommy wasn’t quite sure he was ready to be in the presence of all 3 Beans at once.

He knew Phil had mentioned the night before about Techno coming home late which undoubtedly meant the teen was up by now having his morning coffee and Tommy knew how Techno tended to act around ‘new visitors.’

One good perk of living in the walls was you learned how every person of the household acted around each other, and new people. Phil and Wilbur were always fairly welcoming, but Techno wasn’t the easiest to talk to. If you didn’t know him, he may come across as cold and calculating. Not the easiest person to approach without shaking in your boots that’s for sure.

But as Tommy would tell you, he knew that after the guests had all left, the sheer amount of relief the pinkette would feel, further revealing how awkward they had been about being around these ‘strangers’ was hilarious. It wasn’t a villain behind glasses moment, just an awkward teen with limited social skills.

Tommy couldn’t help but giggle to himself as he’d watched the teen collapse in his bed after a certain interaction with a salesman as if it had drained all the life out of him. People just weren’t Techno’s strong suit.

But even knowing this didn’t ease the boy's nerves. It didn’t change the fact that even if Technoblade was socially awkward that he wasn’t capable of harm. The fencing trophies in his room a testament to that feat of strength.

His nervousness about having breakfast with the 3 must have been obvious, because Phil had gently placed his hand on his shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze before leading them both out of the guest room and to the dining room.

Just breathe Tommy. They don't know what you are yet.

You’re okay for now.

“Morning Tech, good to see you up and about.” Phil greeted chipperly as he manoeuvred himself into the kitchen leaving Tommy to observe by the hallway. “I’d like you to meet Tommy.”

Tommy briefly met Techno’s gaze and was met with a solemn stare as they sipped on their coffee. He’d be joking if he said he knew what was going on in the teens head.

The blonde forced himself to give one short acknowledging nod at the pinkette, not trusting his voice to form any coherent words as he shifted uncomfortably from where he stood. He deliberately kept his eyes averted from the twins at the table, fully well knowing Techno was most definitely staring at him, if the hot feeling of holes being burnt through his chest wasn’t already obvious enough.

It took everything in him to not run right there and then.

“Tommy, why don’t you take a seat next to Techno and I’ll fix you up something to eat.”

Okay now would be a good time for his voice box to work because there was no way he wanted to sit next to Technoblade.

That was NOT his ideal way of getting caught.

It didn’t matter if humans couldn’t read minds, if anyone could catch on to something being off, it would be Technoblade. It was like the teen had a sixth sense and somehow just always knew when something wasn’t quite right. Just like the moving of the craft knife, he was sure if he slipped up in front of Techno, they’d know and it would be game over and onto the torture in a heartbeat.

Thankfully, it didn’t seem like it would come to that, as Techno was quick to stand and tuck in his chair as he excused himself to finish some upcoming school work.

“All good Dad, I’ve got homework to finish before school on Monday. I’ll just excuse myself.”

Tommy felt himself relax. Oh, thank Prime for humans and their absurd amounts of homework! Even if he didn’t really understand why they got it.

“Alright Techno, just make sure to have something more than coffee this morning alright? And don’t let me catch you having something potato-based before lunch, got it?”

“No promises.” The pinkette replied, before grabbing an apple from the refrigerator and began walking towards his room.

Tommy however was still glued to the hallway.

The hallway that led to said Bean's bedroom.

Even though he was Bean sized right now, Technoblade still towered over the young boy. So much so that the light overhead was slightly obscured, casting an eerie shadow over the teens face making his deep brown eyes appear to glow a dark red. Tommy felt the way his heart spiked, his instincts screaming at him to run as his eyes darted around looking for potential tunnels and crevices to escape to. Anything to get away from this predator of man as they came to a steady stop before him.

“Ahem.” The teen cleared his throat along with a flick of his head.

What did he want? He hadn’t even done anything and was already in trouble? Should he have moved to the table quicker? Or had he stared too long?

A second cough with another jerk of the teen's head as Tommy’s anxiety began to grow finally keyed what Techno wanted from him.

Oh .

He wanted him to move.

“Tech, quit scaring the poor kid and go around them.” Phil teasingly scolded. “You’re gonna give Tommy a heart attack.”

Techno huffed in minor annoyance before shuffling past, minorly brushing against Tommy’s arm as he did. It wasn’t hard or anything, but Tommy couldn’t suppress the flinch it caused from his prior panic. He missed the way Techno’s eyes furrowed in concern as he hurried to move before he caused any more problems.

“Don’t mind him Tommy,” Wilbur piped up, drawing the younger's attention back to the table. “He’s not much of a people person.”

The blonde finally let himself breathe as he brought his attention back to the brunette as they continued. “Come take a seat and have some breakfast, yeah?”

Tommy nodded, gingerly making his way over to the table plopping down opposite Wilbur as instructed before. As he sat, Phil picked up a plate and served a freshly cooked waffle onto it, before drizzling it in thick golden syrup and strawberries.

“Here you are, mate.” The man said placing the decorative dessert in front of him with a knife and fork.

He whispered his thanks as he picked up the utensils, but the Borrower couldn’t help but be on edge. Even if Phil and Wilbur had been nice to him his whole stay, Techno clearly didn’t want him here. He was sure that after breakfast, Phil was going to take him back to the park like he’d said, but then what? He couldn’t tell them that his real home was actually here, but also couldn’t risk being taken to the park and never finding his way back.

There had to be a way to figure out this whole mess before they brought up leaving. At most he just had to figure out a way to get back from the park after they left him there because it’s not like the walls were an option until he had a grasp on how he kept growing and shrinking.

Tommy cut a bit of the waffle off before stabbing it and a strawberry onto his fork, the maple syrup having sunken into the fluffy dessert. At least he’d get to enjoy one more good meal before he gets temporarily kicked out.

‘Hopefully not forever’ the Borrower thought bitterly at the idea of abandoning yet another home.

“So, Tommy,” Phil began as he set a plate of his own waffles down to join the pair at the table. “Feeling a bit better?”

“Yeah, a bit.” He answered as he took another mouthful of waffle. “The waffles are really good.” The boy said, muffled between chews.

“Ew, finish your mouthful before you speak.” Wilbur grimaced as Tommy shovelled another forkful of waffle in. “I don’t want to see your mushed-up breakfast, thanks.”

Tommy slowed his chewing and allowed himself to swallow. Shoot, he hadn’t meant to upset him with how he ate again. Did he now have to be conscious about how he ate too? He thought humans ate like this all the time though?

“Wilbur.” Phil scolded as he elbowed his son in the arm. “You’re almost as bad as Techno.”

The man sighed before turning his attention back to the tense blonde with a sympathetic smile. “It’s alright Tommy that’s not what Wilbur meant. It’s just you need to finish your mouthful before speaking. You could choke if you’re not careful.”

The boy nodded hesitantly before taking another mouthful and chewing it fully before swallowing. Why did humans have to have so many rules? In the colony, no one would have bat an eye if you spoke with your mouth full. You’d get your share and move on. How you ate was no one’s business and certainly no one cared about how Tommy ate. Then again, he’d never really had enough food to stuff his face when he was at the colony for it to be an issue.

Perhaps he was being sloppy…

“Sorry.” He whispered before taking another bite.

Phil sighed, setting down his knife with a soft clink. How was he going to get this kid to see that he was safe here? He hadn’t meant to make them feel more uncomfortable but it seemed the stress of it all was starting to get to the kid.

The man stared at the plate in front of him, his waffles half-eaten and starting to get cold. Each step of progress to make Tommy feel comfortable felt like it took 2 steps back. The kid was probably itching to get to the park and get back home too, but the thought of leaving Tommy like this just didn’t sit well with him. He glanced at the young blonde as he took his time with each bite, noticing how his gaze flicked from Wilbur to him and back to the plate worried as they ate in silence.

So tense, like walking on thin ice…

After finishing pacing himself on breakfast, Tommy had been intercepted by Wilbur.

The brunette had taken one look at him and insisted he have a shower, shoving some clean clothes into him and ushered him into the bathroom. It’s a good thing he knew how taps worked, because understanding how to change water temperature would have been an awful experience had he not.

Despite feeling bad about using the Crafts water, Tommy had to admit being able to wash up properly after so long felt wonderfully refreshing. Even seeing his own reflection in the mirror; clean and well-groomed for the first time in years, had him taken aback at how nice his hair and skin looked after a good wash.

The clothes Wilbur had given him had been some old clothes he didn’t fit into anymore and had had lying around. A pair of jeans, a basic t-shirt with some humans on it that Tommy didn’t recognise and an old blue sweater that was slightly too big on him. It felt odd to wear clothes made with fabrics of such high quality, but he instantly fell in love with the sweater.

Now yes, he was aware of how bad his clothes had been. They were basically falling to bits on him, but it’s not like he didn’t know that. The Great Tommyinnit knows how to make nice clothes thank you very much.

If anything he was a pro tailor back in the colony, but considering he’d been roaming for weeks at a time carrying only the bare necessities before finally settling in at the crafts; new clothes hadn’t been much of a priority. He’d only really just managed to get his new home to his liking and with all the necessities he would need. New clothing had been next on his to-do list, if the mud-stained and holey garments he wore daily had made any indications of needing them.

He just needed a few days to gather the fabric and thread and he’d have a new wardrobe within the week. But the clothes he made vs the clothes Wilbur had lent him were nothing in comparison to quality! It was all just so soft and silky feeling and Tommy almost never wanted to take any of it off even if it was slightly too big. It wouldn’t be hard to adjust the seams on the jeans to make them fit better and the same with the shirt. His trusty handmade needle could make quick work of that.

Maybe Wilbur wouldn’t mind if he took them home with him?

That was, if he’d ever be able to go home.

Tommy still didn’t understand how any of this worked and trying to make himself leave the bathroom to ‘take him home’ was not helping.

The curling feeling in his gut telling him to just stay put and hide kept him mulling over the options in his head. But how could he do that after he told Phil he lived near the park? They would expect him to be fine once he left and go back home just like he supposedly wanted.

He turned to face himself in the mirror, stray water droplets dripped down the side of his face from his still-damp hair. The clean, presentable Tommy he saw now, no longer the same dirty, orphan he knew he was. Perhaps if he’d always been like this, he’d never have been kicked out of the colony. He never would have been alienated by those meant to care, never felt so small when it was normal. But now he was big, clean and everything someone might love as a Human Bean and yet he felt so fake hiding behind a false facade.

After all, he was only a Borrower.

The dreaded small feeling came creeping back in and all it took was one glance at the mirror for Tommy to wish he was back to his old self. He shouldn’t have put the thought of being loved in his head again. As much as he wanted to, he couldn’t bear the thought of the Crafts turning on him should this disguise fall. Tommy squeezed his eyes shut tightly as he clutched the edge of the sink counter.

He wanted to go home and be small again. Hide away where it was safe from all that was out to get him. Away from this reflection of a boy he didn’t recognise. A tingly sensation pricked at his skin as tears began to drip steadily down his cheeks. He was being childish; he knew that, but he didn’t care. Why couldn’t he just be loved as he was?

Upon opening his eyes to look at the disgrace that was him in the mirror, Tommy found he was no longer staring at himself, but rather at the side of the wooden cabinet- three times smaller than he’d been almost seconds before.

He’d shrunk. Again?

Confusion swept over his mind as he scrubbed at his face. How did this keep happening? One second he’s big and hating his Bean size counterpart, the next he’s smaller and wishing….

To be smaller…

It suddenly all began to make sense as the puzzle pieces began to slot into place. Every time he’d grown or shrunk, he’d been wishing to change. To be bigger to catch up or smaller to go home. He willed it, and it happened.

Did his desire to change trigger the shift of his size?

Tentatively, Tommy stood back from the counter and focused hard. He wanted to be smaller, like his old self. Small enough to fit through the cracks, small enough to hide out of sight, be 3 inches tall again, the only right size. The Tommy size.

The tingling returned, this time all over his body as the blonde focused on changing his shape to be what he envisioned. It was a warm sensation and Tommy thought it was strange how he’d never felt it until now. When the tingling dissipated, Tommy slowly opened his eyes as a small gasp escaped him.

“I shrunk.” He whispered in awe as he took in the now enlarged bathroom. He grabbed at his hands and arms, patting himself down to prove that he indeed had changed with a disbelieving laugh. “I’m me again.”

“Ha, I’m actually me! Oh, thank prime.” Tommy cheered as he hugged himself tight. “I thought I’d never work this out.”

The familiarity of large objects and tall ceilings finally returned the Borrower's sense of normalcy. How he missed this. He could finally go home, size not restricting him at all and return back to the safety of the walls. Just the walls, his tiny shoebox home and-

Me.

Tommy glanced around the little bathroom. The light green tiles were clearly a design choice by Phil but the fluffy light blue towels were definitely a conscious decision by Wilbur, and you’d never guess the yellow daffodils were put together by Technoblade. Each had their own little way of expressing themselves.

Tommy sighed as he stared at his hands, inspecting them front and back.

So a simple thought was all it took to change size right?

Just think big- be big. Simple.

Right?

Only a bit of tingling later and Tommy was back to his Bean height. It truly took no effort at all, as if it was second nature to him. Not Borrower nature, but certainly something. Maybe the other Borrowers had always been able to sense that in him. This thing that wasn’t quite right was this incredible size-shifting ability that probably no one had ever heard of and he had it. He certainly was no Borrowerer and definitely not a Bean.

But no one else knew that.

Tentatively, Tommy reached out and picked up a single Daffodil and twirled it in his hand. He’d heard Technoblade talking about how there was a whole language of flowers and that each one meant something different when presented to another person. He couldn’t remember what a Daffodil meant but, the flower itself brought the happy memories of Crafts to the forefront of his mind.

They didn’t know what he was and with this shifting ability sort of figured out, what could stop him from staying? Or at least from getting to know the Crafts better. With something to leave behind, all it would take is to leave a trail back to the Crafts house from the park and he could go and come when he pleased. He’d be able to walk distances that used to take him days in a matter of minutes with ease and the Crafts would never have to know about where his true place of residence was.

It was a second chance at having a real family, or at least a relationship with someone that didn’t immediately hate him. He wouldn’t have to leave forever and could come back and actually talk to someone! It may be risky without knowing the full extent of the shifts, but it was a chance and a chance he was willing to take.

A knock at the door caused the boy to jump, but thankfully he remained silent this time.

“Tommy you alright in there?” It was Phil. Bless the old man's heart for his concern. “You’ve been in there awhile and just wanted to check if you were okay?”

“Yeah, yeah I’m alright,” Tommy called back through the door looking around the bathroom for something to enact his hastily thrown together plan. “Just about done. I’ll be out in a minute.”

“Okay, we’ll get ready to leave shortly to take you back to the park then, if you’re happy to.”

The blonde finally spotted something suitable for his trail and quickly grabbed a handful of decorative little blue pebbles from the bottom of a vase filled with fake pink camellia flowers and shoved them into his pocket before grabbing his dirty clothes.

“Sounds good, big man,” Tommy said as he opened the door to where the taller blonde was standing a little bit away looking minorly concerned.

“Let’s get going.” the boy said with a smile.

This was going to work.

He knew it.

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YAY! WE FINISHED CHAPTER 4!!! WOOOOO Again I am so sorry this took so long to do. I've been working on it on and off for awhile with little progress and life has just been kicking my butt lately that finishing stuff up sucks. I have made a start on chapter 5 and I do plan to finish this fic, it just may take awhile with current circumstances.

HUGE thank you to @a-xyz-s and @munchkin1156 for beta reading this chapter and grammar issues! You are my heroes TwT.

TAG LIST: @local-squishmallow @brick-a-doodle-do @justarandomsloth @veryfunkycheesecake @munchkin1156 @kayla-crazy-stuffs @da3dm @eiscreme135 @orchid-harmony @the-tiny-lurker @colossal-red @nobodywritingao3 @nata2343 @bad-author777 @crazyfoxgirl10 @guppybubbles @box-beanz

Link to tag list for future tags :3

✨Thanks for reading! <3✨

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barefoot-joker · 2 years ago

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Birthday Yandere!William Afton X Reader

I smiled as I walked down the sidewalk to my older sister’s work. She had forgotten her lunch because she was helping our younger brother get ready for school. We had all woken up a bit late, so we rushed Isaac out the door before Trish headed out. I’ll admit it was rough with my sister at work, my brother at school and me taking care of the trailer; we never really got time off to spend with each other. That’s why I was happy to bring Trish her lunch, it would finally give us a chance to chat for a minute or two.

It took me a few more minutes to walk the rest of the sidewalk before reaching the parking lot. Before me stood the only pizzeria in town: Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza. It was quite the spectacle even now and was very popular for children’s birthday parties. Trish and I had taken Isaac there for his birthday and he absolutely had a blast. I mean what was there not to love? It had an arcade, pretty good pizza, and singing animatronics! I had never seen anything like that before, it was just so fascinating.

I opened the front door and a little bell went off as I did. Standing by the host desk, I waited for someone to direct me to my sister. “Oh, hello there, Y/n! It’s a pleasure to see you again!”

I looked up to see Henry, one of the owners. Henry was such a nice man. He would watch Isaac and I while we waited for Trish to finish her shift sometimes. He just looked like a teddy bear with his chubby appearance, blonde curly hair and beard, and those black thick rimmed glasses. “Hiya, Henry! Trish forgot her lunch, so I was just delivering it.”

“Oh yeah, of course. She’s a bit busy right now. We had a lunch rush. If you would like, you can wait in the arcade and I can direct her when she has some free time.”

“That would be great. Thanks, Henry!”

“Of course!”

“Mr. Emily, could you come here please”, a female called.

“Excuse me, Y/n.”

Henry walked off to go help, so I headed to the arcade. The blinking lights and loud sound effects was a bit calming to me. It was also fun to see kids be excited over 8-bit pixels. As I watched kids run around, I felt a dark presence looming behind me, almost suffocating. I looked over my shoulder to see a slim figure. I couldn’t quite identify who it was until I fully turned.

Of freaking course.

The man’s skin was a bit pale, and his brunette locks looked unkempt. While he was slim, he still had a broad figure in the shoulders and the scent of cigarette smoke was slight on his white button up. “Miss Y/n, what a pleasant surprise. It’s so lovely to see you.”

Those gray eyes stared down at me, searching my face for some sort of reaction. I felt a shiver go down my spine. “What brings you here? I haven’t seen much of you lately. Or are you just trying to ignore me?”

A smirk played with the corner of his lips and I couldn’t help the gulp that went down my throat. I absolutely hated running into Mr. William Afton. He creeped me out and made me so uncomfortable. “I was bringing T-trish her lunch. S-she forgot it.”

I didn’t even bother with his other questions. If I had, who knows how Mr. Afton would have responded. “Ah, such a great sister! You know, you remind me of my dear Elizabeth. She does her best to protect Evan from Michael. She makes me so proud.”

Something sinister flickered in his eyes and I took a slight step back. “T-thank you?”

He stepped closer, his breath brushing against my face. Even that felt terrible, the brushing feeling like small claws digging into my flesh. Just as he was about to say something, Trish walked in. “There you are, Y/n! Henry said you’d be in here.”

I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. Thank God Trish came. She noticed my scared expression and grabbed my hand. Leading me away, I could feel Mr. Afton’s gaze dig into my back. “Thanks for saving me back there, Trish.”

“Of course. Mr. Afton can be a bit creepy at times.”

At times? How about all the time.

To make sure we were far enough away, Trish had walked us over by the host stand. “Now, what is it you came here for?”

“You forgot your lunch at the house again,” I lifted up the brown paper sack.

“Oh Y/n, thanks so much! I completely forgot about it!”

“I know, but you’re a busy lady.”

She gave me a kiss to the cheek. I smiled and looked beyond her shoulder. My eyes widened at seeing Mr. Afton peering through the doorway. His eyes stared at my sister down with such disgust. If looks could kill, she’d be bleeding profusely on the checkered floor. “Well, I’d better get back to work. I’ll see you and Isaac later, okay?”

“Okay.”

She gave me a kiss on the forehead before taking the sack lunch, quickly sauntering off. I could still feel Mr. Afton’s gaze on me, so I left quickly out the front door.

It wasn’t until 9:00 pm till Trish came home. By then I had retrieved Isaac from school, helped him with his homework, and gotten dinner ready. The three of us sat around the small dining table, munching on some chili. Isaac told us about his school day and Trish told us about work. I just sat quietly. “You know Y/n, your birthday is coming up here in a few weeks. Do you know what you want for a present yet?”

“No and you don’t have to worry. Just being with you two will make me happy.”

“But Y/n”, Isaac replied, “it’s your birthday! You deserve the world!”

I lightly smiled. They were always so sweet to me, but I really didn’t need anything. Quality time with them would be just enough. “At least think it over, okay? Isaac and I want to get you something.”

Trish set her hand on top of mine, giving it a light squeeze.

“Okay.” I only said that to please them.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After we finished eating, we cleaned up dinner. The rest of the night we played a couple rounds of cards before heading to bed.

The next couple of weeks went by normally. Trish and Isaac kept asking about what I wanted for my birthday and I always gave the same response. A couple of times I had to go to Freddy’s to give Trish something. During those visits Mr. Afton was being creepy again.

His silver eyes seemed softer around me compared to the harshness they held for his employees.

His hands would linger on my shoulder, his touch light and gentle.

I never seeked him out but he always found me in the restaurant. It felt like we had a red string of fate connected to us and he tugged until he was near.

He even suggested I work at the pizzeria, but I immediately turned him down. No way was I going to work alongside him and his creepy behavior.

He just made me feel sick.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Time flew by and soon enough it was my birthday. The morning was spent having my favorite breakfast before we headed to the park. We walked around a bit and just had fun. At some point Trish had to leave to get something for later tonight (probably a cake), so Isaac and I headed back to the house. We played some card games, board games, watched TV and read together.

The hours ticked by and while we had fun, we hadn’t heard from Trish. I was starting to get worried. Freddy’s wasn’t too far from our house and she always called when she was on her way home. No, something must have happened.

“Isaac, I want you to stay here. I’m going to go look for Trish.”

“But I want to come with!”

“Somebody needs to be here in case she calls. Can you do that for me?”

He nodded. “Good. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

I gave him a kiss to the forehead and quickly threw on some shoes. Heading out the door, I went as fast as I could to the pizzeria. Please let Trish be okay! Please!

I threw open the front door and skidded to a stop in the middle of the dining room. “Trish! Trish, where are you?!”

Suddenly, the eerie tune of Happy Birthday carried through the halls. I whipped my head around when I heard footsteps, my eyes widening when I saw a yellow rabbit headed right for me. I tried to move but as soon as I did the bunny grasped my hand, tugging me down the hall. “H-hey! Let go of me! Trish! Trish!”

I was dragged down a dim hallway, yelling at this thing to let me go. It opened a door and suddenly we were in a backroom of the restaurant. I was slightly pushed into the room, the door locking behind us. Even though I was frightened of what the rabbit would do, I forced myself to look around the room.

I really wish I hadn’t.

The room had been decorated for a birthday party. Streamers and balloons hung from every possible place; a birthday sign hung on the wall; a small table with a festive cloth sat in the middle with a birthday cake. The candles were lit and sitting next to it was my sister. Her head was tilted towards her chest and her hair blocked her face. “TRISH!”

I ran over and lifted her head up.

My eyes widened.

My breath caught in my throat.

My hands shook.

I let out a shrill scream.

Across Trish’s neck was a deep cut, thick blood running down the front of her shirt. Her eyes were glassed over and she looked like she was in pain. A dark chuckle made me look at the yellow bunny and that’s when I saw the blood stains. “Y-you! How could you?! Show yourself!”

And so it did. The thick gloved hands unclipped the grotesque cartoon head and pulled up.

I could have died right there.

Standing in front of me with a wide grin was Mr. Afton.

“Surprise~”

“I-I-”

“Speechless? No matter. There will be plenty of time for us to talk, my dear.”

“W-what do you mean? Why did you kill Trish? She never did anything to you!”

He looked offended at that comment. “Of course she did. She kept us apart. Can’t you see? We belong together. After all, I put so much effort into this relationship so far. I’d hate for my flirtation to go to waste.”

I gasped.

No.

No way was this murderer and I meant to be together!

I ran for the door but Mr. Afton pulled me into a tight embrace against his costume. I screamed and struggled in his grip. He just held tight. “I see you are not in the mood for a party right now. That’s okay. We can have our own celebration at home.”

“LET ME GO! LET ME GO!”

“Sorry about this, love.”

“Wha-”

My head was thrust at the wall and suddenly pain shot through my skull. The room was spinning and soon I blacked out.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I groaned as my eyes slowly opened. My head was just pounding and the cool cloth on my head was nice. “Finally starting to wake, my dear?”

I peered to my left and saw Mr. Afton sitting in a chair next to the bed I was on top of. He was out of the horrid costume and was now sporting a dark purple dress shirt and dark gray striped pants. “W-where am I?”

“Home.” He let his fingers stroke the top of my forehead into my scalp.

I whined and tried to move away but the mad man was quick to grab me. He held me down and in my blurry state I tried to get away. “There’s no point in escaping, my love. You are mine and I am yours. We’re going to be together forever.”

“N-no! I don’t want that!”

“You’ll get used to it, my dear.”

“Mr. Afton-”

“Call me William. After all, we're past the formalities phase.”

With that he leaned down and gave my cheek a kiss. I threw my head to the right, not wanting to look at him. However, his fingers wrapped around my chin and forced my head back to him. “I’m being very generous, love.”

That woke me up.

“Generous? Generous?! You made advances towards me when I made no indication I liked you. Y-you killed my sister for God’s sake!”

I thrashed around and William had to hold me down tighter. “Let go!”

“Come now, darling. Behave. It’s still your birthday, don’t you want to celebrate?”

“Not with you! I hate you! I hate you, William!”

A deep smirk set on his face and his eyes softened. “I love it when you say my name.”

He leaned down and kissed my lips. I struggled against him and bit his lip. He pulled back and licked lip, the blood going into his mouth. He smiled wide.

“Happy Birthday, soon to be Mrs. Afton.”

#yandere #yanderexreader #xreader #fnaf #fnaf x reader #yandere fnaf #fnaf x y/n #yandere x y/n #yandere five nights at freddy's #five nights at freddy's #fanfiction #william afton #yandere william afton

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louisisalarrie · 6 months ago

Note

can u explain what happened with tamara bell and louis during glastonbury 2015?

well, there’s probably far better posts about this, but I’ll give it a quick go. welcome to the show, baby cakes

tamara is proven to be a good friend of Harry’s. photo below of them YEAAAARSSSS ago

and this is a photo of her, lux, and lou Teasdale, also mates

so the thing is, is that, from these photos… you could go “oh harry set louis up with a hot pal hes known for years” and like… that’s exactly what the media ran with. They constantly linked harry and Tamara as friends, (funny how he fucks everything that moves but not her, right?) and harry being the matchmaker of her and louis. Anyway, she’s been around for a while, and she’s cool and hot and brunette… wait… why is it important that she’s brunette? why did it have to happen in June 2015?

Oh! That’s right! Because bbg rumours started to get even worse. There was already SO much seeding and shit in the media about louis and B, and what kind of relationship they had. It’s like that time the “mystery blonde” article started circulating, and louis went clubbing and got into a van full of brunettes so none of them could be mistaken for B, lol. She probably should’ve realised and dyed her hair (which she eventually did LOL). But I digress

The whole bbg thing was supposed to look a lot more… wholesome, than what louis made it. I believe it was meant to be more of a “Louis’ found the love of his life and they’re expecting yay!” Kind of thing because he was always pinned as the long term relationship guy, aka, the exact opposite of Harry styles™️. However, idk how tf they were gonna push that bc his breakup with E was announced officially on March 23rd, and B only really came into the picture between May 5th and 15th. So…….. Less than two months with B, if there was no crossover (which they wouldn’t want anyway) and it was immediately straight after E, they still wanted to push the wholesome baby settle down mature dad version of louis. And you know what he did? He said fuck you Uncle Simon.

So, to entirely get rid of ANY speculation he was with B romantically/engaged which was the narrative, he walked around with brunettes to really push home the point there was nothing there with B, even if bbg went through. So, he threw himself under the tour bus. He essentially said “hey this’ll make me look like more of a prick but also stops me from being around that woman even if the kid thing happens, and therefore it distances me from it and I won’t be in a long term thing again”… more or less. This is why we also got a short Danielle fling in December of that year, just to push home the point that he wasn’t with B or any kind of “mystery blonde” that they could mistake her for. Which is, for lack of a better term, HILARIOUS

And also this was hugely important because for a very long time, we didn’t actually know what B looked like. She changed every time we saw a pic of her from the media. So it was really confusing which blonde they were talking about, so he made it clear to make a point of being with brunettes only. And Tamara, well, she’s just a cool fucking human. Old friend of Harry’s, chill, a model with a small following, just overall a kind of cool person. So he chose to walk with her and lazily hold her hand to cut any ties with B that the media continued to create. So, he’s known her for ages, and so has harry, and it was nothing, but it made a huge crack in the bbg narrative.

Anyway, yeah, it’s very unserious. All of it. The timelines of bbg in general and all of the stunts/rumours it truly was ridiculous. But somehow he managed to never end up “dating” that woman and Tamara is a big part of that, because also, he chose to fuck them over with that move. It’s truly iconic sassy Louis behaviour.

I probably missed some stuff here but thanks for chatting!

#anon #answered #bbg #stunts

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camaro-and-smokes · 24 days ago

Text

It's Always Been You

💙❄️ Here's my @harringroveholidayexchange fic I wrote for @freezef4wn ❄️💙

Characters: Billy Hargrove, Steve Harrington, Robin Buckley, Eddie Munson, Max Mayfield Warnings: No Warnings Tags: No Upside Down, Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, POV Alternating, Gay Billy Hargrove, Bisexual Steve Harrington, Feelings Realization, Mutual Pining, Hurt/Comfort, Billy & Max Have a Good Relationship, Past Mungrove hinted, Past buckleway hinted, the Byers never moved to California, Getting Together, First Kiss Words: 13,557

Summary: Billy’s presence had become comforting. Having someone to talk to who was here seemingly from their own will, even if not entirely, made Steve feel less lonely. At least he wouldn’t leave. Even if they agreed to disagree on many things, Billy found Steve’s lousy jokes funny and was sharp as hell. Steve just had started then pay attention to things he’d never had before. When the light at the bar hit Billy’s hair just the right way, it created a bright halo around his head. The way the corners of his eyes crinkled when he grinned widely, his tongue stuck between his teeth, the way his laugher rang loud and bright…

And in this special purgatory Steve had spent the last few months.

Read on AO3 >>

::::::::::

The snow fell in lazy flakes outside Family Video, each one a tiny reminder of the winter that had gripped Hawkins early this year. Steve leaned against the counter, drumming his fingers on the scratched Formica surface, tracking the descent of one particularly large snowflake with his gaze.

The bell above the door chimed, jolting Steve from his reverie. Mrs. Thompson, a blonde, well-shaped woman, walked in. Like she always did on a Friday.

And like every time, Steve plastered on his most charming smile. “Mrs. T, come in to get your weekly rom-com fix?”

Mrs. Thompson chuckled, her eyes twinkling. “Oh, you know me too well, Steve. But I think I’ll shake things up this time. Got anything new?”

“Well, let’s see what we can find for you. Action? Romance? How about a little of both?”

Steve had repeated those words way too many times to his own liking. For years, even. At twenty-three, he was still stuck in this stupid job and this stupid town where everything seemed to stay all the same.

After graduating, he had applied to colleges, but none of them had accepted him. So, he’d kept this job, thinking it was just temporary. Thinking something better would come up, maybe a job in Indianapolis or Chicago. But it never had happened, he never really went looking, and here he was, still in Hawkins and at the same dead-end job.

All his friends had moved away to study and the only ones left were the kids who also were now old enough to graduate next year. Then everyone would be gone, and he’d still be here, in this town, alone.

Well, except for Billy. Yeah, him. They’d turned from rivals to…acquaintances over an incident.

+++

Steve had seen Billy with the brunette many, many times. She was gorgeous, of course. It was always the gorgeous ones who attracted each other. And the way she and Billy seemed to be glued from the hip year after year made Steve sure they’d get married and have two kids, a picket fence, and a golden retriever.

But then Steve went to the men’s bathroom at Hideaway one Saturday night. He heard the very distinct noises of an intimate encounter from one stall and decided to be quick about his business.

Now, in a bar bathroom, there are two rules; you don’t try to get a peek at what others are packing, and if you hear noises of two consenting adults, you make your own visit quick and let them finish.

So, Steve had been concentrated on his own business and was already hopeful of being able to slip out before the couple would come out.

But just as he turned around to leave, the stall door opened—and the couple turned out to be Billy’s brunette with another woman . Which was a surprise. Though fair, Steve had made a conclusion based on hearing only the orgasm of a woman and not thought of the possibility of that being caused by another one.

When he returned to the bar, he saw them sit down at the booth where Billy was waiting. And it seemed that Billy was totally unfazed. Poor bastard didn’t probably even know.

Steve knew it really was none of his business, but witnessing a guy being cheated first hand made him feel uneasy. If someone had seen Nancy cheating when they’d gone out, he would’ve wanted to be told about it.

Which was why, when he later noticed the women had left, he picked up his beer and walked over to Billy's table. “Hey. Um…I, uh, I saw something earlier and you might want to hear about it.”

Billy cocked his head as he looked up. “What?”

“I saw your gal earlier, in the men’s bathroom.”

Billy snorted. “She’s not my gal.”

Steve looked at him, puzzled. “Huh?”

“Yeah. I assume you saw her in there with…” His voice lowered. “A girl?”

Okay, so Billy knew. Which made Steve’s insides twist even more. He nodded.

Billy took a pull from his cigarette. “Yeah. She’s not my gal.”

“Oh…OH.”

“Yeah, oh.”

“Hmm. Right. Because I, uh, I…I always thought…you’re always glued from the hip. Seemed normal to assume that.”

Billy’s smile faltered just for a second before returning to his face. “Well, it’s not good to assume things.”

“Ah…yeah, you’re right. Of course. Sorry,” Steve said, shaking his head. “I’ll go nurse my embarrassment to the bar and leave you alone.”

“Well, the seat is free now since they left.”

The invitation surprised Steve. Billy’s calm demeanor overall surprised him. They hadn’t really even talked after high school and Steve had been happy about it, since Billy had always been as loud and crass as ever.

“But by no means go back and sit at the bar alone if you prefer that,” Billy continued after a moment, a smile tucking the corner of his mouth. “Since it seems to be so hard to decide.”

“Uh, no, I…I’ll stay,” Steve said, feeling stupid. He must’ve frozen from surprise.

The worn leather seat creaked as he sat across from Billy. He didn’t really know what to talk about with him. Cars? Steve knew shit about cars. Movies? Billy came by Family Video almost weekly to rent a movie or two for him and Max. Max . He knew Max. A little.

“So…I heard that Max is applying to college.”

Billy nodded and took a sip from his beer. “Yup. She’s planning on getting out of this town.”

“That’s how it’s supposed to be,” Steve said quietly. “She’s got a good chance at scholarships, I guess?”

“Yeah. Though I’m playing it safe. Been saving a little to make sure she can make it.”

Steve’s brows shot up. “You’re helping with her tuitions?”

“If it comes to that, yeah.” Billy raised his eyes from his glass to look at Steve. “Did you assume that I’d stick around in his hellhole just because it’s such a fine place to live in?”

“Uh…” was all Steve could get out of his mouth. He felt mortified for having a foot in his mouth like this. Apparently finding out that Billy wasn’t a total asshole anymore and was generous to that extent had sprained his brain.

Billy chuckled and took another pull of his smoke. “Yeah, turns out there actually is more to me at twenty-two than there was at eighteen. I was surprised too.”

Steve squeezed his eyes closed. “I’m sorry. I’m being such a dick right now.” He looked at Billy. “Can we start over?” He reached his hand over the table. “Hi, I’m Steve Harrington.”

Billy chuckled as he took Steve’s hand and shook it. “Hargrove. Billy.”

+ + +

That night, Steve had stayed at the table for a few more hours. They’d ordered more beer and just talked. Steve had learned that the reason Billy hadn’t taken off to California, like he’d always loudly announced to everyone at school, was that his dad had split to flee tax fraud charges—which was the very same reason that had brought the family to Hawkins in the first place. So, when Max and Susan had been left to their own devices, Billy had let his grip loosen from fulfilling his own dream, at least for a while, gotten a job, and stayed to help them. To help Max .

It seemed that Billy had changed for the better. Even if he wasn’t about to marry the brunette, whose name was Heather, he had a lot of good things going for him in this hellhole .

At least Billy was here by his own choice.

From that onward, whenever they ran into each other, they exchanged a few words. Sat at the same table at the bar, sometimes played some pool—Billy always won.

They weren’t exactly friends, but yeah, they knew of each other.

Steve was drawn back from his reverie, Mrs. Thompson nudging his arm.

“Are you alright?”

“Huh?”

“You went all glassy-eyed there for a minute. Thought you’d faint on me.”

“Uh, right. No, I’m fi—I’m fine.” He ran a hand over his face. “Just a bit tired today. That’s all.” He looked at the shelf of films again, returning to his role as the helpful video store clerk. “How about ‘Romancing the Stone’? Adventure, romance, and Michael Douglas looking ruggedly handsome. Can’t go wrong there.”

Mrs. Thompson giggled, a faint blush coloring her cheeks. “Oh, you! I’m not sure if my husband would approve.”

“Well, this is for you and not for him, am I right?”

Mrs. Thompson giggled again, a faint blush coloring her cheeks, then nodded enthusiastically.

“Alright, I’ll rang you up on it then.”

As the bell chimed when Mrs. Thompson walked out with her film and silence settled over the store, Steve’s smile faded. He looked back at the window, watching the snow continue its relentless fall. In the reflection, he saw someone who was trapped, yearning for something he couldn’t quite name.

With a sigh, he picked up stack of tapes, put them on the small trolley and walked to the shelves. There were always more movies to organize, more customers to small talk with.

And maybe a chance that Billy might walk through that door and change everything.

Yeah.

Billy, who always came in on Fridays around five pm to pick up a movie for Max and El and one for himself. Billy, whose weekly five-minute visit to Family Video Steve always waited like the moon to rise…

Steve wasn’t sure at which point exactly he’d started to think more of Billy. He’d known for a while now that his interest wasn’t limited to just girls, so the realization itself wasn’t a total surprise. That it was Billy, then again, was.

Billy’s presence had become comforting. Having someone to talk to who was here seemingly from their own will, even if not entirely, made him feel less lonely. At least he wouldn’t leave. Even if they agreed to disagree on many things, and Steve still couldn’t fathom why Billy was so infatuated with his friend Eddie’s band Corroded Coffin. But Billy also found Steve’s lousy jokes funny and was sharp as hell.

He’d just started then pay attention to things he’d never had before. When the light at the bar hit Billy’s hair just the right way, it created a bright halo around his head. The way the corners of his eyes crinkled when he grinned widely, his tongue stuck between his teeth, the way his laugher rang loud and bright…

And in this special purgatory Steve had spent the last few months.

The door bell chimed again and Steve turned, expecting another customer, but found himself face-to-face with Robin. Her hair was dusted with snow, her cheeks flushed from the cold.

“Hey!” Steve said, setting the tapes down and walked to her, enveloping her in a tight hug. “Didn’t know you were in town!”

“In other words,” Robin said, “you didn’t think I’d come home for Thanksgiving?”

“I didn’t say that,” Steve replied with sheepish a smile.

“Of course I’m home for thanksgiving! Wouldn’t miss the chance to see you on the side.”

“Well, I’m glad I’m not entirely forgettable,” Steve chuckled.

“Saw you recommended Mrs. Thompson ‘Romancing the Stone’, Casanova,” she quipped, sidling up to the counter. “You know, there are other movies in this store.”

Steve clutched his chest in mock offense. “You wound me! I’ll have you know ‘Romancing the Stone’ is a cinematic masterpiece.”

“Yeah, and I’m sure Mrs. Thompson’s appreciation for cinema is what’s got you pushing it so hard,” Robin retorted, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

Steve rolled his eyes. “I have you know that I’ve actually given up on that kind of behavior.”

“Oh? You just think of someone special nowadays?”

Steve fidgeted with the hem of his vest. “Maybe.”

Robin’s eyes widened. “Who?” Then she scrunched her nose. “Don’t say it’s one of your hookups. You know what happens with them.”

“Nope, no a hookup. At all. I kind of…know of…know them.”

Robin tilted her head. “Them?”

Steve knew it would turn into a full-blown interrogation until he finally revealed who he was thinking of. Might as well tell her now. “Billy Hargrove,” he sighed, deflated.

The name hung in the air between them, and Steve felt a mix of relief and terror wash over him. He watched Robin’s face carefully, searching for any sign of judgment or disgust.

When she didn’t reply, Steve asked, “Everything alright?”

“Um…yeah. I’m just…why him?”

“Well, we’ve been talking here and there and…you know how it goes.”

Her gaze softened. “You start noticing things and thinking it might actually be nice to know more about them?”

Steve nodded.

“Is he a nice person? I remember him as not much so.”

“He’s saving to help Max get through college.”

Robin looked gobsmacked. “Oh, wow.”

Smile tucked the corner of Steve’s mouth. “That’s what I said.”

“Well, you know how you can find out if they feel the same? You talk to them.”

Steve sighed, leaning against the counter. “He isn’t gay.” He paused. “I think. Besides, I don’t want to ruin our perfectly well-functioning knowing of each other. He’s one of the few good things about this town.”

Steve would’ve wanted to talk more, but the bell above the door chimed, and his heart leapt into his throat. Billy strode in, his hair and shoulders dusted with snow, his eyes scanning the store.

Steve’s palms instantly went clammy, and he straightened up, trying to appear nonchalant. He tried to act cool, fumbling with a stack of returns on the counter as he noticed Robin had vanished from his side as if into thin air. Thanks for the support, Robin.

“Hey, Harrington!” Billy called out, his voice filling the quiet store. “Got any recommendations for a snowy evening?”

Steve’s mind raced, searching for a witty response. “Depends,” he managed, proud that his voice didn’t betray the butterflies in his stomach. “Are we talking ‘National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation ’ kind of night, or more ‘The Shining’ situation?”

Billy laughed, the sound warming Steve from the inside out. Steve couldn’t hold back a smile of his own.

“Man, you really do have a movie for every occasion, don’t you?”

Steve shrugged, trying to act nonchalant. “It’s a gift, I suppose.”

As Billy browsed the shelves, Steve’s eyes traced the familiar lines of his profile, the way his jacket clung to his shoulders. He forced himself to look away and busied himself with reorganizing the counter.

“So, how’s the garage?” Steve asked, desperate to keep the conversation flowing.

Billy shrugged, picking up a VHS case, reading the description on the back cover. “Same old, same old. You know how it is. Cars break down, we fix ‘em. Day in, day out.”

“Yeah, rinse and repeat,” Steve murmured, a familiar ache settling in his chest. “I know exactly how it is.”

As Billy turned to leave a moment later, ‘Commando’ for him and ‘Ferris Bueller’s Day Off’ for Max tucked under his arm, Steve’s gaze followed him, lingering on the way some of his curls escaped from his messy bun. The bell above the door chimed, a bittersweet sound that seemed to echo Steve’s internal struggle.

“See you around, Harrington,” Billy called over his shoulder, flashing that crooked smile that never failed to make Steve’s heart skip a beat.

“Yeah, see you,” Steve replied, his voice barely above a whisper. He watched Billy’s retreating figure through the store window, a familiar longing settling deep in his bones. The urge to call out, to say something—anything—more meaningful than their usual banter clawed at his throat, but the words remained stubbornly lodged there.

As Billy disappeared past the windows, Steve let out a heavy sigh. Robin appeared at the other side of the counter, wrapping her unbelievably long scarf around her neck.

“You left me alone with him!” Steve seethed.

“Well, I couldn’t be sure I could’ve kept myself from saying something.”

“Hey, as if it would go over well if I said anything,” Steve retorted. “‘Oh, hey Billy, by the way, I know we chat here and there. Surprise! I’m into you. Wanna grab a beer?’”

“Well, what if it worked? What if he said ‘Sure, let’s get that beer’?” she asked, shaking her head. “Sometimes I think you’re more afraid of things working out than falling apart.”

Steve turned to her, his brow furrowed. “What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked, this time actually offended.

“Maybe you’ve become so used to being an uncommitted guy that the idea of actually putting yourself out there terrifies you.”

Her words hit Steve like a punch to the gut, and he opened his mouth to argue, then closed it again, realizing she was right.

He knew he’d become that guy who was good enough for having fun with, but not worth pursuing seriously for. It had become easy, not needing to even think of a future together anymore.

He had become easy.

It disgusted him. He didn’t want to be like that. He wanted to take care of someone and to be cared for. To build a future. But the thought of rejection and destroying a perfectly functional knowing of each other was downright terrifying.

+++

The acrid smell of motor oil and the rhythmic clanking of tools filled the air as Billy slid out from under the rusty Chevy he’d been working on. He wiped his grease-stained hands on a rag, eyeing the car’s undercarriage with a mixture of pride and frustration.

“Hey, Hargrove!” called out Mr. Wilkinson, the garage’s owner. “Mrs. Anderson’s here for her oil change. Think you can handle it?”

Billy nodded, pushing a stray curl away from his face. “No problem, boss. I’ll get right on it.”

When he walked through the door to the waiting area, he saw Mrs. Anderson waiting there. He felt a familiar tightness in his chest. She had been his high school English teacher, and he felt a twinge of embarrassment remembering his younger self’s antics in her class.

“Well, if it isn’t Billy Hargrove,” Mrs. Anderson said, a hint of surprise in her voice. “I hardly recognized you without the attitude.”

Billy forced a smile. “Good to see you, Mrs. A. Oil change, was it?”

She gave Billy the keys, and as he sauntered to the car and drove it in, he found himself grateful for a little small talk and doing the same mechanical work he’d done a thousand times before; hoist the car up, drain the oil, lower the car back down, change the filters, fill the oil, send the client on their way.

It all was a far cry from what he’d been at school, lashing out at anyone who got too close.

“You know, Billy,” Mrs. Anderson said as he returned and gave the keys back to her, “I always knew you had potential. It’s good to see you’ve found your footing.”

Billy felt a warmth spread through his chest, mingled with a twinge of regret. “Thanks, Mrs. A. I appreciate that.”

He returned to the car he had been working on earlier, but his mind was elsewhere. The repeating sounds of work and engines running badly and then well a moment later after fixing the issues echoed the hollow feeling in his chest. The same scenery, the same faces, the same damn routine every since day.

While Mr. Wilkinson had told Billy he was the perfect candidate to take over the garage when he’d retire in a few years’ time and had also begun to train him for the job, it only eased his mood a little. Sure, now he had future prospects, something solid waiting for him in a few years’ time that also guaranteed Max getting her college education for sure.

But it didn’t change the fact that his own life missed something more. Someone. Steve.

God, Steve.

Even after all these years, just thinking about him made Billy’s heart race. He could picture Steve’s easy smile, the way his hair fell across his forehead, the dark eyes that seemed to hold so many secrets.

“Earth to Billy,” a voice called, snapping him out of his reverie. It was Joe, his coworker, waving a wrench at him. “You gonna finish with that rust bucket or just stare into space all day?”

Billy forced a laugh. “Just zoned out for a second.”

But as he walked back under the hoisted car, Billy’s mind wandered again. What would it be like to actually connect with Steve? To tell him how he felt?

“You’re dreaming, Hargrove”, he muttered to himself. Steve’s straight, and even if he wasn’t…this is Hawkins.

Even so, a small part of him couldn’t help but wonder. What if there was a chance for something more?

Billy stared at the chassis, trying to dislodge the thoughts. They’d grown closer since the incident in late August, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that had taken root in his heart; that something was finally happening between them. Something that might make him feel alive in this dead-end town.

The sudden sound of footsteps pulled Billy from his reverie. He tensed, his fingers tightening around the wrench in his hand. The footsteps were hesitant, unfamiliar. Not the confident stride of his boss or the casual gait of a regular customer.

A throat cleared awkwardly behind him. “Uh, excuse me?”

Billy’s breath caught in his throat. He knew that voice. Slowly, he turned to look at the direction of the voice, his eyes widening as they landed on the figure standing by the car.

Harrington stood there, looking as handsome as ever, even in a stupid turtleneck and jeans. His dark hair was slightly disheveled, probably from taking off his woolen hat. His eyes darted around the garage before settling on Billy.

“Hey,” Steve said, his voice a mix of relief and uncertainty. “I think…something’s broken in my car. It keeps this squealing noise and the lights keep flickering from time to time. I was hoping if you could…” His words trailed off. “I’m not sure if it’s serious or not,” he said, gesturing vaguely towards the outside.

Billy’s heart raced as he struggled to maintain his composure. He nodded, trying to appear nonchalant despite the whirlwind of emotions churning inside him. “Yeah, sure. Maybe the alternator belt is finished. When do the lights flicker?”

As Steve began to explain, Billy found himself captivated by the way Steve’s lips moved, the slight furrow of his brow as he described the car’s symptoms. Billy forced himself to focus on the words, not the speaker, even as his mind screamed at him to say something, anything, to bridge the gap between them.

Instead, he listened silently, nodding at appropriate intervals, all the while wondering if Steve could hear the thundering of his heart in the quiet of the garage.

He wiped his grease-stained hands on a rag, his mind racing as he searched for the right words. “Yeah, I think it’s the belt,” he said, his voice steadier than he felt. “I can take a look to make sure.”

Steve nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “That’d be great. Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it,” Billy replied, clearing his throat, desperate to fill the silence. “Uhm, can you drive it in?”

When the car was inside, he opened the hood and looked for the culprit as the engine was running idle.

Steve leaned against a nearby workbench, his posture casual, but the fidgeting of his fingers betraying a hint of nervousness.

Billy couldn’t come up with anything to say, so he leaned further into the motor than was necessary. He already knew what was wrong, but his cheeks were so warm that he knew they were beet red and he just couldn’t get up and face Steve, not yet. Might as well check everything that ever needed checking.

“Yeah, alternator belt is worn, it has to be replaced,” Billy said when he finally felt sure enough to lean back up.

“Oh, okay,” Steve said, rubbing his hands on his thighs. “How long it takes to fix it?”

“It just needs to be replaced. But we don’t have one that fits your car here right now. We don’t serve European cars that often so I have to order it from Chicago. We can have it here by tomorrow afternoon.”

Steve looked mortified. “Do I have to leave it here for the time being?”

Billy shook his head. “No, if you don’t mind the off chance that it snaps off while driving. But if you drive carefully, you should be just fine for a few more days. Bring it in the day after tomorrow.”

Steve nodded, still evading Billy’s eyes, his cheeks flushed.

A sudden thought hit Billy. What if Steve…What. If?

“Yeah, uh, I’ll bring it in then. I’ll ask a ride back from Dustin. He can pay back a little for the driving lessons that way,” Steve said as he took the keys from Billy.

Their hands brushed slightly together at the exchange, and both of them stopped for a moment, making the air between them charged.

Then Steve moved his hand and turned to get into the car, breaking the moment.

Billy opened the garage door for Steve to reverse out. He followed the BMW with his gaze until it turned the corner and vanished between buildings.

“Fuck,” he muttered to himself as he pressed the button to close the door.

He got back to work on the Chevy and walked under it to continue where he left off. But he couldn’t shake the electricity that had gone through him when their hands had touched and the way Steve had seemed nervous. Had there been a flicker of something more? Or was he just dreaming?

Billy sighed, wiping his brow with the back of his hand and leaving a streak of grease. He couldn’t keep doing this to himself. Steve was straight, probably uninterested, and completely oblivious to the turmoil he was causing in his heart.

+++

The fluorescent lights of Family Video cast an eerie glow over the faded movie posters lining the walls. Steve sighed, drumming his fingers on the worn counter as he watched the clock tick by with agonizing slowness.

Another day, another shift in this dead-end job.

“Excuse me, do you have any new releases?” a middle-aged woman approached, interrupting his brooding.

Steve plastered on his best customer service smile. “Sure thing. What are you looking for?”

As he guided her through the new releases section and then rang her up, Steve’s mind wandered. Is this really all there is? Recommending movies to people living vicariously through a screen while my own life passes me by?

“Thanks for your help,” the woman said, jolting Steve back to reality.

“No problem. Enjoy your movie night,” he replied automatically, already feeling the familiar restlessness creeping back in.

The bell above the door chimed, and Dustin, Mike, and Lucas strolled in, laughing and shoving each other playfully.

Dustin walked to the counter and tilted his head, squinting. “You’re brooding again. Tell me it isn’t the you-know-who.”

Steve shook his head, trying to dispel the melancholy thoughts. “Just thinking that next year this time, you’re all somewhere else. And I’ll still be here.”

“You know, that’s entirely your own choice,” Dustin said. “You could leave anytime you want.”

“I guess,” Steve replied. Dustin was the last person he wanted to infect with his misery, so he changed the subject. “Die Hard is coming out on VHS just before Christmas.”

“It doesn’t make it a Christmas film!” Lucas shouted from somewhere between aisles.

“It literally takes place on Christmas,” Dustin shouted back. “How much more Christmas can a film get?”

Steve listened to the familiar bickering between the teenagers with a twinge of envy. To be that carefree again, with the entire world ahead of you…

Focus on the positives , he told himself. At least you have a job. At least you have a roof over your head. But the pep talk rang hollow, doing little to ease the gnawing sense of being stuck.

As his shift finally ended and Sarah, the new girl, took over, Steve grabbed his jacket and headed out into the chilly evening air.

On impulse, he decided to go to Hideaway for a beer or two. It was Saturday, and he didn’t have a shift tomorrow—and besides, he’d just sit in front of the TV the whole evening and fall asleep on the worn couch and then wake up at two am to an aching back.

And especially he didn’t hope that Billy was also at the bar. Nu-uh.

The familiar creak of the Hideaway door announced his arrival, and the warm, smoky atmosphere of the bar enveloped him. Dim lights cast long shadows across the worn wooden floor, and the low hum of conversation mingled with the soft strains of classic rock from the jukebox.

Steve’s eyes scanned the room, his heart rate picking up when he spotted Billy in a booth at the back of the bar. His shoulders were hunched over a beer, his long hair tied back in its usual messy bun.

Steeling himself, Steve approached. “Hey, man,” he said, sitting across from Billy. “How’s it going?”

Billy raised his gaze, his piercing blue eyes meeting Steve’s. “Didn’t expect to see you here tonight. How’s the car?”

“Yeah, I, uh…the car’s fine. Thanks for that.” Steve signaled the bartender for a drink. “So, what’s your excuse for being here? You got nothing else to do on a Saturday night?”

“Nah. Could’ve gone to Indianapolis. But didn’t. You could do that too.”

“Yeah. Maybe. Wouldn’t want to spend money on a hotel though. Couldn’t make it home after a binge in a bar. Here I can walk home if it comes to that.”

“I thought you still lived in that mansion in Loch Nora. With the beemer and all.”

“Nope. Wanted to get away from that empty house. I guess my folks are selling it, moving to Chicago full time.”

Billy nodded and lighted a smoke. He offered one to Steve, but Steve just shook his head.

After a while of silence, Steve continued. “Yeah, they’re leaving and I’ll still be stuck here.”

Billy nodded, taking a swig of his beer. “Hawkins’s got a way of making you feel trapped, doesn’t it? Like you’re stuck in quicksand, and the more you struggle, the deeper you sink.”

Steve felt a surge of connection, realizing Billy understood exactly how he felt. “Exactly. It’s like…I had all these dreams, you know? Things I wanted to do, places I wanted to see. But now I’m here, working at the video store, and it’s like time’s just…stopped.”

Billy leaned in, his voice low. “I know what you mean. Sometimes I look around the garage and wonder if this is all there is. If I’ll be changing oil and fixing transmissions for the rest of my life.”

“What would you do?” Steve asked, genuinely curious. “If you could do anything, go anywhere?”

Billy’s eyes lit up, a rare genuine smile spreading across his face. “I used to dream about California. But now…I’ve always wanted to restore classic cars. Not just fix them, but really bring them back to life, you know? There’s this shop in Chicago that specializes in it. Sometimes I dream about apprenticing there.”

Steve nodded, feeling a warmth spread through his chest. “That sounds amazing. You’d probably be great at that.”

His heart skipped a beat as Billy’s smile lingered, the warmth of their conversation settling around them like a comfortable blanket. He found himself studying Billy’s face, noticing the long lashes that spread like a shadow over his cheeks as he looked down at his beer, the slight stubble along his jawline catching the dim bar light.

“What?” Billy asked, his grin fading to a look of confusion.

Steve quickly averted his gaze, heat rising to his cheeks. “Nothing, just…thinking.”

But his mind was racing. When had Billy become more yo him than just the bully from high school? When had his presence started to make his palms sweat and pulse quicken?

Billy shifted in his seat, his fingers drumming an uneven rhythm on the tabletop. “So, uh, you want another beer?”

“Sure,” Steve replied, grateful for the distraction.

As Billy made his way to the bar, Steve couldn’t help but watch him go. The way Billy moved, confident yet somehow guarded, stirred something in Steve he wasn’t sure how to handle.

“Get it together,” Steve muttered to himself, running a hand through his hair. “It’s Billy, for crying out loud.”

But that was precisely the problem.

Billy returned, setting a fresh beer in front of Steve. Their fingers brushed as Steve reached for the glass, sending a spark through Steve.

“Thanks,” Steve managed, his voice slightly strained.

Billy nodded, settling back into his seat. He seemed to avoid eye contact, his gaze darting around the bar. “No problem. So, uh, you’ve been seeing anyone lately?”

The question caught Steve off guard. “Me? No, not really. You know how it is in this town.”

Billy’s shoulders visibly relaxed. “Yeah, tell me about it. Slim pickings, right?”

Steve laughed, but it felt hollow. How could he explain that the only person he was interested in was sitting right across from him? That the thought of admitting his feelings—of potentially losing their perfectly functional knowing of each other—was paralyzing?

“Right,” Steve agreed, taking a long swig of his beer. “Slim pickings.”

+ + +

Billy felt warmth flowing over him. For the first time, he was talking with Steve about something else than the weather or movies. It felt comforting. Maybe there was something between them. Something more than just… knowing of each other. He’d hoped for it for so long. Hell, he’d settle just for a friendship, if nothing else. Which was probably as good as they’d ever get. Steve being straight and all.

Suddenly there was a commotion at the bar, people loudly greeting someone, and he turned to look. His heart leapt at the sight of the familiar long dark hair—Eddie.

“Holy shit, it’s really him,” Billy said, a grin spreading across his face.

“Who?” Steve asked, frowning, as he turned to look.

“Eddie!” Billy got up. “I’m gonna go say hi.”

Billy walked to Eddie. “Well, look what the cat dragged in,” he said, getting Eddie’s attention.

Eddie’s eyes lit up, that mischievous spark Billy remembered so well dancing in them. “Billy! Man, it’s good to see you!”

They embraced, Billy’s chest tightening with genuine joy. “Welcome back, you crazy bastard. How long’s it been?”

“Too damn long,” Eddie laughed. “LA wasn’t all it’s cracked up to be. Figured I’d come home, see what trouble I can stir up here.”

+++

As they caught up, Steve watched from the table, his stomach churning. Seeing Eddie’s arm slung easily around Billy’s shoulders sent a jolt of jealousy through him.

So, they used to be friends. No big deal.

But it felt like a big deal. Steve’s eyes lingered on Billy’s animated face, the way he laughed at something Eddie said. A familiar ache bloomed in Steve’s chest, one he’d been trying to ignore for months.

Billy got Eddie a beer and lead them to the booth where Steve was waiting.

Steve plastered on a smile, willing himself to make space in the booth. “Eddie, man, welcome back,” he said, hoping his voice sounded steadier than he felt.

Eddie’s grin was easy, genuine. “Steve! Good to see you. How’ve you been?”

“Oh, you know,” Steve shrugged, aiming for nonchalance. “Same old Hawkins. Nothing new.”

“You still work at the video store?” Eddie asked as he sat next to Steve.

“Yeah, still sorting tapes for a living.”

“Hey, that’s a respectable job. Unless like a guitarist who turns out to be only good for serving drinks to the real rockstars.”

As Eddie launched into a story about his time in LA, Steve found his gaze drawn to Billy. The way Billy’s eyes sparkled as he listened, the curl of his lips as he smiled—it was like a punch to the gut.

They look way too comfortable with each other. What if they were…

He shook his head, trying to focus on Eddie’s words. It’s nothing, it doesn’t matter , Steve told himself firmly. Friends. That’s all.

But as Billy’s laughter echoed at the booth, Steve couldn’t quite make himself believe it.

Suddenly, he felt like he was suffocating.

+++

Billy’s brow furrowed as he observed the shift in Steve’s demeanor. The nervous energy from earlier had transformed into something more guarded, almost defensive.

Steve’s gaze darted between him and Eddie, a flicker of something—uncertainty? Jealousy?—in his eyes.

“Everything okay?” Billy asked Steve softly, confusion and concern mingling in his chest. He couldn’t shake the feeling that Eddie’s arrival had disrupted more than just their conversation.

Steve nodded stiffly, his earlier warmth replaced by a forced smile. “Yeah, fine. I should probably get going, actually. Thanks for the beers, Billy.”

As Steve got up to leave, Billy felt a pang of disappointment. What had just happened? The connection he’d felt just moments ago seemed to slip away, leaving him with more questions than answers.

As Steve made his way towards the door, Billy shouted after him, making Steve turn to look at him. “We’re going to grab something to eat tomorrow. You’re welcome to join us,” Billy offered, hoping to ease the tension.

Eddie looked at Billy for a moment, surprised. “Uh, yeah. Yeah. Sure.”

Steve’s eyes widened slightly, a conflicted expression crossing his face. “Oh, I…I wouldn’t want to intrude,” he stammered.

Billy felt a twinge in his chest, torn between his friendship with Eddie and his desire to connect with Steve. He watched as Steve’s gaze darted between them, a mix of confusion and something that looked almost like hurt in his eyes.

“It’s no intrusion, man,” Eddie chimed in, oblivious to the undercurrents. “The more the merrier, right?”

Billy nodded, trying to catch Steve’s eye. “Absolutely. What do you say?”

Steve’s internal struggle was evident in the way he hesitated, his facade cracking to reveal the uncertainty beneath. “I…I should probably get going. Thanks for the offer, though,” he said, his voice strained as he turned and left the bar.

After Steve was gone and Billy sat back to the couch, Eddie raised an eyebrow. “Everything okay, man?”

Billy nodded absently, his eyes still fixed on the door. “Yeah, ’s fine,” he mumbled, though his chest felt tight with disappointment.

+++

The string of lights tangled in Steve’s fingers as he stretched to reach the far corner of the ceiling. His arms ached from the repetitive motion, but his mind barely registered the discomfort.

Instead, it replayed the scenes from the last few weeks since Eddie’s return over and over like a broken record.

Billy’s easy laugh. Eddie’s hand on Billy’s shoulder. The easy banter between the two. Billy laughing at Eddie’s stupid jokes. Eddie grinning widely every time Billy jabbed at him. The way they seemed to suddenly do everything together.

It was infuriating.

“Shit,” he muttered as a bulb slipped from his grasp, shattering on the floor of the store. He sighed, descending the ladder with careful steps.

What did it mean? The question gnawed at him, refusing to be silenced. Were they really…? No, he couldn’t let himself go down that path.

As he bent to retrieve the fallen bulb, Steve caught sight of his reflection in the store’s front window. The furrow etched between his brows made him look older, more careworn. He barely recognized himself.

“Fuck it,” he muttered, shaking his head as if he could physically dislodge the doubts clouding his mind. But Billy’s face lingered, his eyes seeming to see right through him.

Steve ran a hand through his hair, mussing it further. “You’re reading too much into things,” he said aloud, his voice echoing in the empty store.

But even as he spoke the words, they rang hollow.

The bell above the door jingled, breaking Steve’s reverie. He turned to see Robin bustling in, her arms laden with a cardboard box overflowing with glittering ornaments.

“Well, don’t you look festive,” she quipped, eyeing Steve’s lackluster expression. “Did Santa put coal in your stocking already?”

Steve couldn’t help but crack a smile. “Hey, I’m working on it. Rome wasn’t decorated in a day, you know.”

“Clearly,” she retorted, setting the box down with a theatrical huff. “Good thing I’m here to rescue your Christmas and not Kevin—who apparently got sick on a Saturday morning. Again. What a surprise. Hand me those tinsel garlands, Scrooge.”

“I was just about to ask, how come you’re here? Your lectures ended already for this year.”

“Yup,” she said, popping the p. “Thought that I’d might as well come home early and to check on you, how you’re doing without my help. Poorly, I see.”

As they worked side by side, draping tinsel and hanging baubles, Steve felt some of the tension ease from his shoulders. Robin’s presence was a welcome distraction, her sarcastic comments and playful jabs pulling him out of his own head.

“So,” she ventured. “Any luck with Hargrove yet?”

Steve paused, a red ornament dangling from his finger. “No,” he replied quietly.

Robin’s eyes narrowed slightly, studying Steve’s face. “Out with it.”

Steve sighed, fiddling with a strand of lights. “It’s nothing, really. I just…I don’t know. Things have been weird lately. With Billy, I mean.”

Robin’s expression softened, the sarcasm fading from her voice. “Weird how?”

As Steve stumbled through an explanation, he couldn’t help but notice the way Robin listened, her usual quips giving way to genuine concern. It struck him then how lucky he was to have her as a friend. He ended his explanation with, “Eddie came back.”

Robin looked at Steve expectantly. “The rockstar-Eddie? So?”

“Well, they’re close and…Billy’s been spending a lot of time with him.”

“That doesn’t mean anything. Weren’t they glued to the hip already back in high school?”

“I guess,” Steve muttered, fiddling with the garland he was holding. “But it could’ve been because, you know…”

“So, you’re still not doing anything about it? Just brooding alone instead of, you know, asking like a normal person?”

Steve’s stomach twisted. “I don’t know if I can—”

“Sure you can,” Robin cut him off, her voice softening. “Look, I know it’s scary. But if you don’t ask, the answer is always no.”

“Yeah, I know,” Steve muttered.

Robin pondered for a while. “Hey, isn’t the traditional Byers-Hopper Christmas Dinner again on next Saturday?”

Steve glanced at her. “Yeah. What of it?” His eyes widened. “You think they’ve invited Billy?”

“Well, Max is always there, isn’t she? Is it such a stretch that he might be tagging along?”

“He’ll probably come with Eddie, anyway. It wouldn’t work.”

“What then if he comes with Eddie? You don’t know for certain they’re together, right?”

“Well, it isn’t the kind of thing you advertise in this town now, is it?” Steve retorted.

Robin stared at him for a moment. “Yeah, as if I didn’t know, dumbass.”

Steve pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m sorry. Didn’t mean it like that.”

“You don’t have to say the words, not immediately. Just…get him a present and give it to him. Let him know you’ve been thinking of him.”

Steve nodded. It actually wasn’t a bad idea. “But I don’t know what he likes.”

Robin hummed and pursed her lips in thought for a moment. “Well, what a guy who works with cars likes?”

“Uh, cars?”

“U-huh. And what particular car?”

“…His own?”

“Bingo!”

Steve pondered the idea for a moment. “Huh. Okay. I can work with that, I guess.”

+ + +

Billy’s mind whirled as he drove through the snow-covered streets of Hawkins and towards Family Video to rent a few films with Max. His chest felt tight, constricted by pent-up longing and fear.

He hadn’t seen Steve for a while and it was bothering him. Which was why they were on their way to the store, renting a film for Max as a prize from good grades as the excuse. And Max herself as a shield.

He probably doesn’t even like guys, he repeated his age-old reasoning like a broken record.

As they parked in front of the store, its neon sign bright in the gray afternoon light, Billy took a deep breath, steeling himself.

The bell above the door jingled as Max stepped inside in front of him, the familiar scent of popcorn and musty carpet washing over them. His eyes scanned the aisles, heart racing as he searched for a glimpse of dark hair.

“You gonna stand there all day, or are we actually renting something?” Max’s voice cut through his thoughts, startling him.

Billy blinked, realizing he’d been frozen in the doorway. “Yeah, yeah, I’m coming,” he grumbled, following her inside. With each step, he felt a mix of anticipation and dread building in his chest, unsure if he was more afraid of seeing Steve than not seeing him at all.

“What’s with you, anyway?” Max asked as she scanned through the new releases shelf. “You didn’t call me shitbird even once while we were driving here.”

Billy chuckled. “Yeah, sorry, shitbird. Happy?”

Max snorted. “So what’s it gonna be today? Another shirtless hero?” she teased, elbowing Billy in the ribs as they meandered down the aisle.

Billy scoffed, but a faint blush crept up his neck. “Shut up, Max. I’m not the one who cried during ‘The Officer and A Gentleman’ last week.”

“Hey, that was a beautiful story!” Max retorted, her voice rising in mock indignation. “Besides, I seem to recall someone getting misty-eyed during—”

“Alright, alright,” Billy cut her off, rolling his eyes but unable to suppress a grin. “Let’s just pick something and get out of here.”

After picking up ‘National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation’ they made their way to the counter, and Billy’s heart leapt into his throat. Steve had appeared behind the counter, his hair slightly tousled as he organized the tapes on the counter.

Billy froze, his palms suddenly sweaty. The sight of Steve, bathed in the soft glow of the overhead lights, made his knees weak. He struggled to maintain his composure, forcing himself to breathe normally.

“Earth to Billy,” Max whispered, nudging him. “You okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Billy swallowed hard, his eyes still fixed on Steve. “’m fine,” he muttered, willing his racing heart to slow down. His legs felt like lead as he approached the counter. Steve looked up, his eyes meeting Billy’s, and a flicker of…something—Billy couldn’t exactly tell what—passed over his face.

“Oh, you went with a classic!” Steve said, taking the tape from Max. “Go easy on popcorn with this. It’s guaranteed to make your stomach hurt just from laughing.”

“So…how’s work been?” Billy asked, desperately searching for something to say.

“Same old, same old,” Steve replied with a shrug, his casual demeanor both alluring and frustrating to Billy.

“Haven’t seen you around for a bit.”

The polite smile on Steve’s face faltered as he rang up the film. “Yeah, been busy.”

“U-huh? Well, just so you know…” Billy started and paused. “Hideaway isn’t quite the same without you.”

Steve gave the tape to Max and looked at Billy—actually blushing. “Is that so?” he asked quietly.

Billy nodded, not sure his voice would carry.

Steve smiled, but the smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Maybe I’ll stop by.”

Max interrupted them. “Hey, are we going or what?” she shouted from the door.

“Uh, yeah.” He glanced at Steve before walking away. “See you.”

Max was waiting by the door, her eyebrows raised curiously. As they sat in the truck Billy drove in the winters—he’d learned not to take the Camaro on the icy roads—she looked at Billy. “What the actual hell was that?”

Billy started the car and put it in reverse. “It’s called none of your business, shitbird.”

As he backed the truck out from the spot, making the car swirl slightly on the ice despite it having winter tires, she kept grinning. “Oh, this is so, so good!”

Billy felt his cheeks burning as he stepped on the gas and the car lurched ahead. “You know shit!”

“You’re crushing on him! Even a blind person can see that.”

“Shut up, Max. It’s not like that.”

“Oh, please,” Max scoffed. “I could practically see the hearts in your eyes from across the store. You’ve got it bad.”

“I said drop it,” Billy growled, but there was no real heat behind his words.

“You know, you could just ask him out,” she said. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

Billy’s mind immediately supplied a dozen worst-case scenarios, each more mortifying than the last. “You don’t get it,” he sighed. “It’s complicated.”

After he’d dropped Max off at her trailer, Billy drove to his own and slumped onto his bed, the springs creaking under his weight. He ran a hand through his hair, loosening it from its bun. Max’s words echoed in his mind: What’s the worst that could happen?

He sighed, staring at the ceiling. “So many things,” he muttered to the empty room.

Rolling onto his side, Billy caught sight of his reflection in the mirror. His eyes stared back, filled with a mixture of longing and fear. How hard can it be to talk to someone you already know?

But Steve wasn’t just someone. He was the culmination of years of hidden feelings, of stolen glances in high school hallways, of dreams Billy had barely allowed himself to acknowledge.

What if the reason he hadn’t come to the Hideaway lately because he had found someon…?

Billy couldn’t finish the thought. The possibility of losing even the fantasy of a relationship with Steve was paralyzing.

+ + +

The neon Budweiser sign cast a soft red glow across Billy’s face as he hunched over the bar, nursing his fourth whiskey of the night. Familiar sounds of the Hideaway washed over him—raucous laughter from the pool tables, the clink of glasses, classic rock crackling through ancient speakers.

Billy’s gaze drifted to Eddie behind the bar, his long dark curls falling over his face as he mixed a rare cocktail.

Eddie glanced at him and gestured to Billy’s nearly empty glass. “Another?”

Billy nodded, pushing it forward. As Eddie poured, Billy leaned in closer. The whiskey had loosened something inside him, melting away his usual walls.

“Can I tell you something?” Billy’s voice came out rougher than he intended. His hands trembled slightly as he wrapped them around the fresh drink.

Eddie’s eyes met his, curiosity and concern mingling in their depths. “Of course, man. What’s on your mind?”

Billy took a deep breath, the words he’d kept locked away bubbling up inside him. His heart raced as he searched Eddie’s face, wondering if the concern on it would turn into judgment. He decided to just go for it.

“It’s Steve,” Billy began, his voice barely above a whisper. “I can’t stop thinking about him. It’s driving me nuts.”

As the confession left his lips, Billy felt a weight lift from his chest. But another emotion quickly took its place—fear. What if Eddie thought he was pathetic? What if word got back to Steve? Billy’s thoughts raced as he awaited Eddie’s response, the din of the bar fading away until all he could hear was the pounding of his own heart.

Eddie’s eyes widened slightly, but his expression remained open and understanding. He leaned in closer, matching Billy’s hushed tone. “You’re still thinking about him, after all this time?”

Billy’s fingers tightened around his glass. “Yeah.” He paused, swallowing hard. “I thought there was something finally happening, but…I don’t know anymore. We got closer over the autumn, but now he’s become distant suddenly.”

Eddie nodded slowly, his gaze never leaving Billy’s face. “Yeah, haven’t seen him lately either. You know what happened?”

“He’s been like that since Thanksgiving.”

“Oh,” Eddie said after a while, stretching the word. Then his brows raised. “So, why don’t you go and talk with him? It seems quite obvious what’s going on,” he said softly.

“What do you think is going on?”

Eddie smiled a sad smile. “He’s jealous, man. Of you.”

“Pfft,” Billy scoffed. “As if.”

“No as-ifs,” Eddie said, rubbing his forehead with his hand, frustrated. “Jesus. You’ve pined over him for years and he’s finally warming up to you, only to go incommunicado suddenly when I turn up. Just—please. Talk to the man.”

“Just like that? Where? I can’t tell him that here! Not with dozens of people witnessing it. What if he starts shouting profanities? Calling me names?”

Eddie pondered for a moment. “Do the Byers still organize that Christmas dinner thing?”

“I guess.” Billy furrowed his brow. “You’re suggesting I should do it there?”

“Steve’s still friends with Dustin, right? I can tell Dustin to ask Steve to come. All you need to do is get yourself there somehow.”

“I could ask Max if she’s going,” Billy mused.

“Or if not,” Eddie said with a grin, “you can always just crash the party.”

+ + +

The wind whipped snow against Steve’s face as he pushed through the heavy wooden door of the Hideaway a few nights later. Warmth and the familiar scent of stale beer enveloped them, a stark contrast to the biting cold outside.

His eyes adjusted to the dim light, scanning the familiar faces until he spotted Eddie behind the bar. He made his way over, collapsing onto a worn barstool.

“Rough day?” Eddie asked, already reaching for a bottle.

Steve managed a wry smile. “You could say that. Hit me.”

As Eddie poured, Steve’s mind wandered to Billy—and Eddie. The grab of jealousy around his throat tightened. “So…how’s it going with Billy?” he asked, acting nonchalant.

“Hanging out, listening to music, shooting shit. Why?” Eddie replied, wiping a glass with a towel.

There was something in the way Eddie said the words that made Steve’s stomach churn. He emptied his glass in one swig. “Nothing I guess.”

Eddie raised an eyebrow as he kept on with wiping the glass.

Steve was sure Eddie knew what he was talking about. He tapped the counter with his fingers. “Another one.”

After Eddie had poured the amber liquid into his glass, Steve kept looking at him. “Weren’t you supposed to be headlining stadiums by now?” he asked.

“What can I say?” Eddie smirked. “The bright lights of Hawkins were just too alluring to resist.”

Steve let out a rueful laugh. “Right.”

Eddie suddenly poured himself a drink, too. “Not really supposed to do this, but hell, it’s a slow night, anyway. One doesn’t hurt.” He raised his glass. “To Hawkins?”

Steve hesitated for a moment before clinking his beer against Eddie’s shot glass. “Not that it deserves it, but hey.”

As the night wore on and the drinks flowed, Steve loosened up, but never really got to the point that he felt fully comfortable with Eddie. Between serving other clients, while Eddie had talked in abundance about his life in LA—a far cry from the superstardom everyone thought it had been—he had revealed nothing deeper from his and Billy’s relationship.

It was eating Steve alive. Which meant he maybe took a few drinks too much over the evening.

When he asked for yet another drink, Eddie placed a pint of water in front of him. “This first.”

Steve furrowed his brow as he stared at the glass. “You getting all worried about me now?” he slurred.

“Someone’s gotta look after you.”

Eddie went to serve other customers and Steve dutifully sipped the water, feeling his head clearing a bit.

Maybe Eddie wasn’t a bad guy. Maybe he was better for Billy than he would ever be. He was always whining about being stuck, while it admittedly might’ve been a bit of his own making, and now he was moping over losing a guy he never even knew that well.

When Eddie came back, he smiled at the empty water glass in front of Steve. “I can pour you one beer. But then I’ll close your tap.”

“Fair.”

Eddie poured the beer, and after placing it in front of Steve, he leaned his elbows on the counter, lowering his voice. “You okay, man? You seem…I don’t know, like something’s eating you.”

Steve’s eyes snapped back to Eddie’s face, a flicker of panic churning in his stomach. “’m fine,” he said, a little too quickly. “Just…thinking. About stuff.”

“Wanna talk about it?” Eddie prompted gently.

Steve sighed, tracing patterns in the condensation on his glass. “’s complicated. There’s someone…” he trailed off, shaking his head. “Never mind. It’s stupid.”

A smile tucked the corner of Eddie’s mouth. “Someone? You holding out on your bartender? Who’s the lucky lady?”

Steve’s cheeks flushed, and he looked away. “It’s not…I mean, there isn’t…” he stuttered, then took another long drink of his beer. He glanced towards the door, though not sure if it was to get up and run or just to make sure Billy wouldn’t walk in.

Eddie kept looking at him, not pushing him into talking.

Steve couldn’t hold it in any longer. “I think…” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “…I’m in love with Billy.”

It felt as if the words had punched the air out of the bar—though Steve wasn’t entirely sure if it was just how he felt.

“How long?” Eddie asked simply, his expression neutral.

Steve shrugged, his fingers fidgeting with the napkin on the side of his glass. “For a while. Since autumn. I guess.”

“Have you told him?” Eddie asked gently.

Steve’s head snapped up. “God, no. I can’t…He’d never…It’s Billy, for Christ’s sake,” Steve said, as if that explained everything. In his mind, it did. “He’s straight. And even if he wasn’t, why would he want me?” The doubt that had been gnawing at Steve for a long time spilled out in a rush. “I’m just…me. Pathetic loser, stuck in this dead-end town, working a job I hate. He deserves better.”

Eddie’s eyes softened with understanding. “Steve, man, you’re selling yourself short. He cares about you.”

Steve stared at Eddie for a moment, not quite believing his words. “Oh, come on, you’re shitting me.” When Eddie’s gaze remained serious, it hit Steve. “Oh shit. You’re serious?”

Eddie’s smile was sad, and Steve wasn’t entirely sure why.

“Yeah, he does.”

Steve shot up from his chair. “I gotta go tell him…”

“Whoa there, Romeo!” Eddie said as he rushed out from behind the bar and guided Steve back to lean on the bar. “I think you’ve had enough for tonight.”

Steve blinked, surprised to find the room swaying slightly. “I’m fine, I can drive,” he protested weakly, fumbling for his keys.

Eddie’s hand closed over Steve’s, prying the keys out of it gently but firmly. “Not a chance, man. Come on, I’m not working alone tonight. I’ll clock out early and take you home.”

Steve wanted to argue, but the words felt thick in his mouth. He allowed Eddie to guide him off the barstool, his legs wobbling beneath him.

Eddie steadied him, throwing Steve’s arm over his shoulder. “Let’s get you home.”

The cool night air hit Steve’s face as they stumbled out of the Hideaway. Eddie maneuvered him into the passenger seat of his beat-up truck, the metal band stickers on the dashboard blurring in Steve’s vision.

“Eddie,” Steve mumbled as they drove, streetlights flashing by. “What if…what if I mess everything up?”

Eddie’s eyes stayed on the road, but his voice was gentle. “You won’t, man. Just…talk to him when you’re sober, okay? Be honest.”

Steve’s head lolled against the window, the glass cool against his flushed skin. “Yeah…okay,” he murmured, his eyelids growing heavy.

+ + +

The morning sun stabbed through Steve’s eyelids like a thousand tiny daggers. He groaned, rolling over in his bed, the sheets tangled around his legs. His head throbbed, and his mouth felt like it was stuffed with cotton.

“Oh, fuck,” he groaned, pulling the pillow from under his head and over his face to block the sunlight.

He stayed like that for a moment until the headache became unbearable. Pushing himself up on his elbows, he looked around the room—and realized he was in his own bed.

Good, at least he’d made it home. He had no recollection of leaving the bar, though. Had he driven home or walked? No idea.

“Christ…” he sat up slowly, wincing at the hammering in his skull. The world immediately started swaying, and he had to close his eyes.

His head was killing him. It was bad enough that he had drank this much. And that since it was a weekday—was it? Or not?—he probably had a shift in the afternoon.

“Fucking idiot,” he chided himself as he carefully got up and found the wall to support him on his slow shuffle towards the bathroom.

He splashed cold water on his face and looked at himself in the mirror. It reflected his disheveled appearance, pale face with dark circles under his eyes. He turned on the shower and took off his jeans. At least he’d managed to get his shirt and shoes off when coming home. Which was probably an achievement as itself, considering.

Under the warm stream of water, he tried to remember what had happened last night. He remembered going into the bar with the intention of trying to coax information out of Eddie about his and Billy’s relationship. Great idea but incredibly bad execution—he had no recollection whatsoever about what he’d learned, or if he’d learned anything.

So, basically, he was back in square one.

He probably had no choice but to go with Robin’s plan; get the miniature model of the Camaro and give it to Billy at Christmas.

+++

Billy’s reflection stared back at him, a mix of anticipation and dread swirling in his eyes. He adjusted the collar of his red shirt for the tenth time, the curl over his right eye—again.

He hadn’t been this nervous about anything relating to things of the heart for a long time. Not since…well, when he’d asked Eddie to stay—and Eddie had chosen LA over him.

He lit a smoke. He’d tried to go without today, but this was too much. His hands needed something to do.

“So, hey, Steve,” he practiced, wincing at the awkward tremor in his voice. “No, too casual,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. “Steve, I’ve been meaning to tell you…”

His heart raced as he imagined Steve’s eyes fixed on him, waiting for the words he’d held back for so long. He took a pull from his smoke, squaring his shoulders and jumping a little to loosen himself.

“You can do this,” he told his reflection, trying to channel the confidence he usually wore like armor. But as he gazed at himself, he saw past the tough exterior all the way inside to the soft center. “Don’t screw this up,” he whispered.

He looked at the small box that was waiting on the bedside table. He’d spend hours on trying to think of something Steve would’ve liked and even tried to gouge some ideas out of Max. She hadn’t really been helpful, just had kept teasing him about his crush. But at least she had promised to keep it to herself for now.

He just hoped Steve would like the gift he’d come up with. And the reason why.

With one last glance in the mirror, he grabbed the present, his new thick leather jacket and keys, heading out into the snowy night.

Max pulled the door of the truck open and hopped in. “How in the hell is it this cold in here? Even mom’s car has a heater.”

“Hey! It’s not the warmest, but gets the job done,” Billy said. “Don’t remember you complaining whenever you needed a lift to Lucas’ place,” he said with a lilt.

Max glared at him before she noticed the present in the nook between the dashboard and the windshield. She reached out to take it. “What’s this?”

Billy slapped her hand away. “You weren’t any help picking it, so you’ll learn when everyone else does.” He paused. “Unless Steve thinks it sucks,” he added quietly.

Max glanced at him. “Hey, I’m sure Steve likes it, whatever it is.”

“You think so?”

“Yeah. He’s great. Like, seriously great.”

“Yeah, he is.”

Warm light glowed from every single window of the Byers-Hopper’s house. Christmas music drifted through the door as they approached, snow crunching underneath their boots.

Max rang the doorbell and glanced at Billy. She took his hand in hers and squeezed it. “Just be yourself.”

Joyce opened the door. “Hi Max! And Billy! My goodness, I haven’t seen you in ages. Come on in!”

The party was in full swing, the living room packed with familiar faces. Garlands and twinkling lights adorned every surface, casting a festive glow over the gathering.

Max vanished somewhere in the house with El, and Billy was left alone in the doorway to the living room. He scanned the room, searching for a sign of Steve. His heart sank as he realized he wasn’t there.

Would he turn up? Steve was friends with the curly haired nerd who was also Lucas’ friend. It would make sense that he’d be invited as well. Maybe he just hadn’t yet arrived.

His thoughts were interrupted by a familiar voice calling out to him. “Hey, tough guy!”

Eddie appeared through the crowd, his trademark grin in place as he pushed a red plastic cup into Billy’s hand.

“Thanks,” Billy said, lifting the cup to his nose and sniffing cautiously. “What’s in this?”

Eddie’s eyes twinkled mischievously. “Just a little Christmas magic. Trust me, you look like you could use it.”

Billy took a sip, the warmth of whiskey spreading through his chest. He eyed Eddie suspiciously. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Eddie leaned in, his voice dropping conspiratorially. “You’re here for a reason and it ain’t the eggnog.”

Billy’s brow furrowed as he processed Eddie’s words, knowing well this was all Eddie’s idea. “I…I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he mumbled, his carefully constructed confidence crumbling.

Eddie just shook his head, his smile softening. “Sure you don’t.”

+ + +

Steve’s fingers tightened around the gift-wrapped box as he stood on the Byers-Hopper’s snow-dusted front door with Robin, their breaths forming small clouds in the frigid air. The muffled sounds of laughter and music drifted through the closed door, each note amplifying the nervous energy coursing through his body.

“You know, if you squeeze that present any harder, you might just turn it into a diamond,” Robin quipped, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

Steve let out a shaky laugh. “I’m that obvious, huh?”

“Only to someone who knows you,” Robin replied, nudging him with her elbow. “Relax. It’s just Billy.”

Just Billy.

He took a deep breath, steeling himself. “Right. Just Billy. The guy I’m about to confess my feelings to. No big deal,” he muttered, his attempt at sarcasm falling flat.

Robin’s expression softened. “Hey, you’ve got this. And if it all goes south, I’ve got a pint of Rocky Road with your name on it back home.”

Steve managed a weak smile. “Thanks.”

With one last encouraging nod from Robin, Steve reached out and rang the doorbell. The chimes barely faded before the door swung open, bathing them in warm light and the scent of cinnamon and pine.

After leaving their coats in the hall, they stepped into the living room—and Steve’s senses were immediately overwhelmed.

The room had been transformed into a winter wonderland; twinkling lights cast a soft glow over the sea of familiar faces, and in the corner stood a towering Christmas tree, its ornaments glinting like stars.

Steve’s eyes, however, were drawn to a single point across the room. There, leaning against the far wall with a drink in hand, stood Billy. His hair was open, cascading over his shoulders as a wavy waterfall, the trademark curl hanging over his eye.

And then there was…Eddie.

Billy was laughing at something he had said, his eyes crinkling at the corners in a way that made Steve’s heart skip a beat.

The two of them looked so at ease, so comfortable in each other’s presence.

Steve hesitated, then turned away and sauntered towards the kitchen, stopping to lean to the railing of the second floor staircase.

Max’s voice carried over from upstairs. “…Billy’s been talking about him non-stop. I really hope they hit it off so that I wouldn’t have to listen to it anymore.”

A giggle of two girls followed.

Steve froze. His heart, which had been racing with anticipation, now felt like it was plummeting into his stomach.

“They really deserve to be happy,” another girl’s voice—it was probably El—chimed in.

Steve glanced back at Billy, who was laughing at something Eddie had said, his eyes bright and carefree.

I’m such an idiot, Steve thought, his chest constricting. The room suddenly felt too small, too crowded. He needed air.

“I’ll be right back,” he said as he pushed past Robin and towards the backdoor and the backyard.

“Hey, what’s going on?” Robin asked.

“I need air,” he said as he pushed the door open.

The cold night air hit him like a slap to the face as he walked into the backyard. Steve gripped the railing, his breath coming out in visible puffs. The wrapped gift in his hand felt like a lead weight, a reminder of his misplaced hopes.

What was I even thinking, he thought, staring out into the darkness.

His fingers traced the edges of the gift, remembering the care he’d taken in assembling it. Now, it seemed like a foolish gesture. He leaned heavily against the railing, the cold seeping into his bones, matching the chill that had settled in his heart.

+ + +

Billy’s eyes widened when he noticed the odd girl whom with Steve always hanged out with—Robin, if he remembered right—walking towards him with a determined expression and pointing at him with his finger. Without batting an eye, she invaded his space and pushed the finger on his chest, making him lean into the wall.

“You. Have made. My life. A misery.”

His brows furrowed, annoyance flaring inside him. “Excuse me?” He was sure his tone should’ve made her back up, but it didn’t seem to have any effect on her.

If any, it made her feistier.

She grabbed his arm and pushed him in front of her into the kitchen that was empty at the moment. “I have been listening to him talk about you over and over again for the last few months. I don’t know what happened then, but something changed.” She pointed towards the back door. “Finish it. Today.”

Billy’s jaw clenched, his tough facade cracking slightly. “I literally have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Cut the crap,” Robin hissed, her eyes flashing. “He told me about your gal. Takes a beard to know one.”

Billy’s eyes widened. “I still don’t…”

“I know Heather.” The determination on her face faltered. “We were best friends.”

Billy’s mouth hung open. Heather had told him about her first love. Who had been her best friend.

He was utterly lost for words at the revelation, and Robin must’ve realized it since her face softened. “Don’t walk away because you’re scared,” she whispered.

Billy’s shoulders slumped. “What if…”

Robin smiled. “There’s no what-ifs, trust me.” She nodded towards the backdoor. “He’s in there.”

Billy hesitated, his eyes darting towards the door.

Robin gave him a push. “Go.”

+ + +

Billy stepped out into the frigid night, the sudden chill biting through his thin shirt. His breath clouded in front of him as he scanned the backyard, fairy lights twinkling softly against the darkness. Then he saw him—Steve, leaning against the terrace railing, his shoulders hunched against the cold.

Billy’s heart clenched at the sight of Steve’s dejected posture. He approached cautiously. “Hey,” he called softly, his voice barely audible above the muffled sounds of the party inside.

Steve turned at the sound, his eyes widening in surprise. For a moment, hope flickered across his face before being quickly masked by caution. “Hey, Hargrove,” he said, his voice catching slightly. “What are you doing out here?”

Billy stopped a few feet away, suddenly unsure. He rubbed the back of his neck nervously. “I, uh…I noticed you were missing from the party.”

Steve’s laugh was hollow. “Yeah, well…needed some air, I guess.”

They stood facing each other, the tension between them almost tangible. Billy’s mind raced, searching for the right words. He’d imagined this moment countless times, but now that it was here, he felt paralyzed.

“Listen, Steve,” he began, his voice rough with emotion. “I—”

“It’s fine,” Steve interrupted, his expression guarded. “You don’t have to explain. I get it.”

Billy frowned, confusion replacing his nervousness. “Get what?”

Steve looked away, his grip tightening on the porch railing. “You and…I overheard Max talking with someone earlier. About…about someone you’re interested in. Eddie. It’s no biggie. Your secret is safe with me.”

Billy’s heart skipped a beat. At the same time, he made a note of having a talk with Max later. “Uh…” he said softly, taking a step closer. “I think you’ve…misunderstood.”

Steve’s eyes snapped back to Billy. “What do you mean?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Billy took a deep breath, steeling himself. The cold air nipped at his exposed chest, but he barely noticed. All he could focus on was Steve, standing there, looking both vulnerable and guarded.

“We’re just friends with Eddie.” He looked down at his feet. “Ever since he chose stardom and fame. If you get my drift.”

Steve’s eyes widened, his lips parting in surprise. “Oh.” he breathed, disbelief clear in his voice.

Billy nodded, feeling the bittersweet pang of the past. “Yeah, oh.”

“So, uh,” Steve began, clearing his throat. “This guy she was talking about…”

A small smile tucked the corner of Billy’s mouth. “Not Eddie.”

Steve rubbed the back of his neck with his hand. “Right.”

Their eyes met, and the world seemed to narrow to just the two of them. The tension between them was palpable, crackling like electricity in the air.

Steve’s words cut through it. “I actually have something for you.”

Billy’s heart skipped a beat. “You do?”

Steve nodded, hesitating for a moment before taking the small present that was sitting on the railing next to him and holding it out to Billy.

Billy took it and turned it around. “What is it?”

“Open it and you’ll see.”

Billy unwrapped the box and opened the lid to see a miniature model of a Camaro, an exact replica of his prized possession. The details were perfect, right down to the blue color.

“You seem to be inseparable from that car, so I thought…” Steve said, his voice soft and slightly uncertain. “It’s a stupid toy, I know, but…”

Billy stared at the car, a lump forming in his throat. His eyes widened as he studied it, drinking in every intricate detail of the model. The familiar curves of the body, the tiny white text in the wheels, even the tiny license plate—it was all there.

“Steve, this is…” Billy’s voice trailed off, thick with emotion. He swallowed hard, his eyes meeting Steve’s gaze. “It’s incredible. Thank you.”

A warmth bloomed in Billy’s chest, spreading through him like wildfire. Could this mean what he thought it meant? The care and attention Steve had put into this gift—it had to be more than just friendship, right? A glimmer of hope sparked within him, making his heart race.

“I’m glad you like it,” Steve said softly, a shy smile playing at his lips.

Billy cleared his throat, suddenly remembering his own gift. “I, uh…I have something for you too.” He reached into his pocket, fumbling slightly as he pulled out a small object wrapped in tissue paper. He held it out to Steve. “Merry Christmas.”

Steve took the gift and unwrapped it to reveal an intricately carved Zippo lighter. For a moment, he looked confused.

Billy saw the surprised look on Steve’s face. “I know you don’t smoke. It’s, uh…I was thinking that, uh,…if you had a lighter, then…then you could always give me light when I needed it.”

Steve looked up, his dark eyes questioning. Billy felt his resolve wavering under that intense gaze, and he looked down at his feet.

“I’ve been holding onto this for a long time,” Billy said, his words coming out in a rush. “Since high school, actually. I…I’ve, uh, had a crush on you.” His hands were shaking now, and he held the box of the miniature model with his both hands to hide it. “I never thought I had a chance, but after the my gal thing…I don’t know. Something changed.”

He finally dared to look at Steve’s face, bracing himself for rejection. Instead, he saw a mix of emotions flashing across Steve’s features—surprise, confusion, and something else Billy couldn’t quite identify.

+++

Steve was silent for a long moment, processing Billy’s words. His heart was racing, a whirlwind of emotions threatening to overwhelm him. He’d never imagined Billy harboring these feelings for him, especially not this long. The revelation sent a jolt through him.

“I…” he started, his voice thick with emotion. “Since Eddie came back, I thought you two were…” His eyes met Billy’s, filled with a newfound intensity. “You’re right. Something changed back then. But I was scared, you know? Scared of ruining…whatever we had, scared of what you’d say.” He took a step closer, his voice dropping to a near-whisper. “I didn’t want to lose you.”

Billy’s blue gaze met Steve’s dark eyes, and in that moment, the tension that had simmered beneath the surface suddenly crystallized into something tangible, something undeniable.

+++

Billy’s heart thundered in his chest, his tough exterior crumbling in the face of this newfound vulnerability. He saw his own longing reflected in Steve’s eyes, and it took his breath away. “Steve,” he whispered, his voice rough with emotion. “I never thought…I mean, I hoped, but…”

Steve nodded, understanding flooding his features. “I know,” he murmured, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “Me too.”

The world around them seemed to fade away, the falling snow and the chill in the air forgotten. Billy found himself drawn forward, as if pulled by an invisible thread. He moved slowly, giving Steve every opportunity to back away, but he stood his ground, gaze never wavering.

Billy’s hand trembled slightly as he reached up to cup Steve’s cheek. The warmth of his skin against Billy’s palm sent a shiver down his spine. He leaned in, pausing just a breath away from Steve’s lips. “Is this okay?” he asked softly, his heart in his throat.

Steve’s response was to close the distance between them, pressing his lips gently against Billy’s. The kiss was tender, almost hesitant at first, but quickly deepened as the pent-up emotion poured out. Billy’s fingers tangled in Steve’s dark hair, pulling him closer, while Steve’s arms wrapped around Billy’s waist, anchoring them together.

As they kissed, Billy’s mind raced. How many nights had he lain awake, alone in his trailer, imagining this very moment? How many times had he watched Steve from afar, certain that his feelings would never be returned?

Now, with Steve’s body pressed against his own, those doubts seemed ridiculous.

When they finally broke apart, both were panting. Billy rested his forehead against Steve’s, unwilling to let go. The cold winter air swirled around them, highlighting the heat building between their bodies.

Steve’s fingers brushed Billy’s back gently. “What do we do now?” he asked, a hint of uncertainty in his voice.

The distant sound of laughter from inside the house filtered into the backyard, reminding them of the world beyond this moment.

Billy took a deep breath, reality slowly seeping back in. “I guess…we should go back,” he said reluctantly. He didn’t want to go back. He wanted to go somewhere with Steve. Alone with Steve.

“I don’t want to waste any more time,” Steve said with a soft smile. “Let’s get our coats and go somewhere, just the two of us. We have so much catching up to do. Right?”

A wide smile spread across Billy’s face. “You read my mind.” He marveled at the way Steve blushed at his words. “You know,” he said, his voice low, “I always thought I’d leave this place first chance I got.”

Steve nodded, his fingers still drawing circles on Billy’s back. “And now?”

“I’m starting to think that it was the right choice to stay this long.”

“Yeah,” Steve said, his voice barely audible, “me too.”

#harringrove #harringrove fic #billy hargrove #steve harrington #billy x steve #steve x billy #suometar writes #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #harringrove holiday exchange #hhe2024

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alexcors · 1 year ago

Text

Donna: Guys, they published comics about me!

Garfield and Jaime: Congratulations! This is great!

Damian: Tt.

Garfield: Never mind, Damian doesn't like comics.

Donna: But... Why?

Damian: Mediocre art with crooked anatomy and even more mediocre text that easily fits on one page, the plots are banal, the dialogue is primitive.

Raven: Damian prefers books.

Garfield, in a whisper: Without pictures.

Damian: Tt. Books train the imagination, comics are forced into boundaries.

Garfield: Come on, this isn't just another workout, this is just fun.

Donna: Maybe Damian is so hostile because there are no comics about him?

Damian: Nothing like that.

Raven: I'd rather there weren't any about me either. People become overly... Annoying when they read things like that.

Jaime: Are you talking about that comic where you were supposed to have an affair with Gar?

Garfield: Or the one where you and Kid Flash?

Donna: With Jericho?

Jaime: With Zatanna?

Raven: What?!

Jaime: Yeah. There is also a comic where Beast Boy and Klerion turned into a two-headed monster and you went on a date with them in this form.

Raven: Azar...

Damian: Don't worry about it.

Raven: It's easy for you to tell, it's not you who is being made out to be a silent, trouble-free slu...

Donna: I found a comic featuring Damian!

Garfield: What's there?! What? Show me!

Damian, grinning: There must be pools of blood.

Donna: Nope, this is a closed tournament on a secret island, which can only be reached by a special ship. And a mysterious sorcerer rules there.

Garfield: Hey! This is the main plot of the Mortal Kombat game! I thought you said you found a comic, not fan fiction.

Donna: Well, that's not all, there's also... Romance.

Damian: Ugh, nonsense.

Donna: No, I'm serious, here you are and a pale girl with a gothic look, wearing fashionable fingerless gloves, with lilac eyes...

Garfield, chuckling: Brunette and daughter of Satan?

Donna: No, blonde.

Damian turns to Raven, introduces her with blonde hair, shrugs and turns to the others: Maybe.

Jaime turned a comic book in his direction with a shaggy blonde in makeup that made her look like she had the last stages of syphilis: Dude, this is definitely not Raven.

Damian grimaced: Absolutely not.

Garfield: Who is she? What do they write about her?

Donna: A fifteen-year-old mercenary who extracts human organs to order.

Damian, gloomily: I would have cut off her hands the first time we met. These scavengers are disgusting. I don’t understand doctors who do this kind of thing.

Donna: They write here that she is a meta, and rips out organs with her hands.

Damian: What?!

Garfield: Not cool, guys.

Damian: But it's stupid! An organ removed in this way will die in a matter of seconds. If this is her trade, then she must be a complete idiot not to know such things.

Raven: Or maybe she just likes to gut people.

Jaime: Just pools of blood, just like you said.

Damian: Blood has almost no smell, unlike human insides, the pieces of which will cover you from head to toe if you try to remove an organ in this way. And even the smallest particles of it will start to rot pretty quickly, creating a smell… To be honest, it's unpleasant.

*The Titans, who were “lucky” to visit the crime scene with the corpses, grimaced, remembering how disgusting it smelled there*

Donna: But it can be washed off. Yes?

Damian: No. The smell is deeply ingrained into the fabric. The aroma will be like a dead cat in a garbage pit.

Jaime: Ew!

Garfield: I wish I hadn't trained my imagination...

Donna: What, there’s no way to get it out at all? Alcohol, for example. This... girl seems to go to bars.

Damian, pinching the bridge of his nose: If this is really a teenager, then she can only go to an illegal bar, where it stinks of sour booze and bitter smoke. The mixture of aromas will reek about two meters away.

Jaime: The stink and the black and white outfit. And her name is Skunk Girl, am I right?

Garfield mentally added new smells to the already established image, causing his stomach to lurch unpleasantly: I propose to end this foul-smelling discussion.

Donna: Well...

Jaime: What?

Donna: No, guys, it's not worth it.

Raven: What is it?

Donna: Oh... There's a kissing scene.

Jaime: Ew!

Damian: I'll sue them.

Garfield: I feel sick... Disgusting.

Donna picks up the comic with two fingers, like a dirty rag, and throws it aside: I agree.

Raven with a slight movement of her palm lifted the comic into the air and burned it, leaving not even ashes

Garfield: Ray, you are our savior!

Damian buries his face into the desonesse’s hair and eagerly inhales its aroma, lavender, slightly sweet and spicy: Thank you.

#damian wayne #raven dc #teen titans #dc robin #beast boy #blue beetle #donna troy #dc comics

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lopezpierce · 1 year ago

Text

Brittana Thanksgiving

"Quinn, I can't go back home without a date for dinner. My parents are still friends with my ex's parents…we've all been going to church together since I was like three. " Santana huffed out as she rolled to her side and batted her eyelashes at her. "Pretend to be my girlfriend for the next 3 holidays and I'll do your biology home work all next semester."

Quinn just rolled her eyes as she turned around in her desk chair, "I don't trust you enough with my GPA. I also will get murdered by my mother if I don't go to Columbus for Thanksgiving and meet her new boyfriend."

The brunette just sighed, "This four day break is going to be such a god damn disaster. I don't even want to go home."

"I bet you my cousin Brittany would pretend to be your date," Quinn smirked a little when she saw Santana's face turn a little red.

"Your tall, beautiful, legs for days cousin Brittany?" The Latina said almost shyly.

"Yeah," Quinn laughed a little bit at her roommates dream like state. "Our grandparents I've in Bellefontaine it's halfway between Lima and my mom. We aren't doing family Thanksgiving until Saturday."

"Brittany has better things to do then go with me," Santana pushed her glasses up and focused back on her organic chemistry book.

"I told you she thought you were cute and was asking about you after you came home with me Halloween weekend," Quinn just shrugged. "I don't know why you never texted her."

"She has a boyfriend at that party," The brunette stated matter of factly.

"I'm going to text her now!" Quinn squealed as a pillow wizzed by her head.

"You better not!" Santana rushed out of her seat towards Quinn.

Santana narrowly avoided having Quinn text Brittany. Not that she wouldn't love to bring the tall beautiful blonde home for dinner, but she had a boyfriend last time Santana checked. She finished brushing her wet hair just as Quinn walked into their dorm room. "What's with the sly as smirk, Fabray?"

Quinn just shrugged as she sat back down at her computer desk. "I texted Brittany while you were in the shower. She said she would LOVE to spend Thanksgiving with you and your parents."

Santana threw her brush lightly across the towards her best friend, "You've got to be kidding me…" The brunette breathed in deeply. "She has a boyfriend."

Quinn laughed a little bit, "You're going to be thanking me after the long weekend and you have someone hot to bring home." Quinn put her hair up in a ponytail and smiled at Santana in the mirror. "She also HAD a boyfriend. She very interested in my geeky side kick."

"Fuck off, Q." Santana huffed a little bit as she crossed her arms over her superman shirt. "If anything you're the fucking side kick."

"I also gave her your number so you guys can iron out the details," The blonde shot her best friend a small smirk. "You can also thank me with your grandmother's pie!"

Santana knew being this nervous about a text conversation was ridiculous, but she couldn't help it. It was even the potential of lying to her family, that didn't bother her so much. It was this conversation with Brittany. She met her about a month ago when she went home with Quinn. She was tall, beautiful, incredibly smart, and funny. All those qualities were hard to find separate, finding them together was a gold mine. This was also just a rouse…it's not like it was going to go anywhere. Brittany probably just wanted some entertainment away from her family. Santana's phone chimed and she felt her chest tighten up a little. Panic attacks weren't something new for her…

Brittany: Hey Santana it's Quinn's cuz Britt. She told me bout ur little idea. I think it could be a blast

Santana: Hi, Brittany. I don't know what she actually told you. I just don't think I can bare going home without a date when I know my ex is going to be at my parents for Thanksgiving.

Santana looked over Brittany's text again, almost panicked about what Quinn might have said. She also realized Brittany was short texting. Her lengthily novel would make to be an even bigger nerd then she was.

Brittany: Basically free food and hanging out w a hot girl. Seems like a good deal to me :) BTW Y would your ex be there?

Santana felt her face heat up a little bit at Brittany's passive flirting. Quinn had mentioned a couple times Brittany had said she thought the Latina was cute. But it coming from Brittany, made it a little more real.

Santana: I'm not bragging but Mami and Abuela can cook! My ex is a childhood friend as well…My parents spend every Thanksgiving with them

Brittany: So free food a little hand holding maybe a hug and play nice with your parents is about the gig?

Brittany: That sux…is ur ex at least nice?

Santana smiled a little at Brittany's cute 'job description.' She stared at her phone for a second trying to think of a good way to describe Rachel. She was very nice and really was a good person, but she was too self-evolved and experimental for Santana.

Santana: Yeah, that pretty much sums it up. She actually is a good person. We just wanted different things. She's an…over achiever to say the least. I just worry everything she has done in school this year will be great grand and wonderful. I'll feel like I've not nothing going for me.

Brittany: Ohhhh….So I should lay on the 'girlfriend' thang on real thiccccc just to annoy her?

Santana let out a small laugh and smiled a bit. She couldn't remember the last time she had felt so light, just from a texting conversation.

Santana: I wouldn't say real thick…but maybe a little.

Brittany: K. Sounds good. Got dance in 5. Txt you after class, cutie.

True to her word, Brittany did text Santana a couple hours later after she got out of dance class. They stayed up most of the night texting. Santana almost missed her 8 am physics class. They still had a week to go before Thanksgiving break.

Santana drowned herself in expresso, redbull, and chewing gum to make her way through her day. She didn't know how they had stayed up all night talking about…nothing. Well, what seemed like nothing. They talked about her relationship with Rachel and what buttons Brittany could push if she became unbearable. Just little things in between. She felt her phone vibrate on her.

Brittany: Idek how I am making it thru the day.

Santana couldn't help but smile a little at Brittany's text. She felt exactly the same way. She was a little surprised Brittany texted her first. Although she did have to fight the urge more than once today to text Brittany. The blonde was just doing a favor for her.

Santana: I know exactly what you mean. I almost missed my 8 am and I feel asleep in my 10:15 this morning.

Brittany: I slept through my alarm…I missed my 10 a.m. I have an A in there anyway so it's fine.

Santana shuffled through the hall way making her way to her dorm room. She threw her bag down on her bed exhausted from the day. She wanted to talk to Brittany more but she knew she was in desperate need of a nap.

Santana: I'm sorry you missed your class. I'm in a desperate need of a nap before I start an English paper. Can I text you later?

Brittany: Going 2 nap 2. U txting me is always welcome.

Santana smiled at her phone before she laid it down on her bed and closed her eyes. It was going to be a long week waiting to go home.

Santana talked to Brittany a little bit over the next couple days. It hadn't been like it had been as much before. Santana didn't push talking to her more even though she wanted too. She had texted Brittany a couple times a few hours apart without a response, so she left it alone for the day. From what Brittany said she had a busy week.

Santana woke with an abrupt start when her cell phone vibrated continuously. She looked at her phone. 3:27 am. Brittany was calling her.

Santana tried to clear her throat so she didn't sound completely groggy. "Hello," She spoke softly trying not to wake Quinn.

"Hey, sorry for calling you at such a crazy hour. I literally just got done with my quantum physics project. I didn't want you to think I was ignoring you all afternoon. I left my phone in my dorm room while I was in the library." Brittany yawned a little, "How was your day?"

Santana smiled to herself a little bit. Talking to Brittany so much the last week has made her extremely happy. "Ohh. I understand. You could have just texted me," she sighed out of softly as she pulled her blanket over her head. Logically she knew it would really drown out much of the noise. But it made her feel a little be less like a bad roommate. "I am glad you called though. My day was pretty standard. Class, homework, food, more class, more work, shower, then bed time. How was yours beside your project?"

"I honestly thought it would go to voicemail," The blonde let out a small giggle. "It was about the same as yours. School work, more work, food, more work. Nothing terribly exciting, " Brittany huffed out a little bit. "I guess the exciting part is next week. Is there anything I really have to worry about besides being bored to death by your ex?"

Santana just shrugged to herself even though she knew Brittany could see it. "I leave it on in case my parents were to call. My abuela has had a few rough spells the last couple months. Nothing too serious, honestly. I just like to be on the safe side." Santana rolled onto her side resting her phone on her ear, "Ummm…I am an only child which we talked about. But we didn't talk about how Papi is a little over protective."

"I'm sorry she has been sick on and off. Grandparents are special regardless of how long we get them in our lives," Brittany let out a small yawn. "How protective are we talking? Like sit on the porch with a shot gun?"

"Did you lose your grandparents when you were young?" Santana felt her heart start to ache a little for her before she even really had an answer. "No not that bad. But he will flash the lights from the living room if I'm on the porch one minute past my curfew. He also likes to ask a million questions. So be prepared for that."

"I never met my dad's parents. They died before I was born, but my mom's are alive though. I spent every summer with them growing up. I'm excited to see them at Thanksgiving." Brittany yawned a little from the other side of the line. "I can handle a million questions. Speaking of that, we need to take time to figure out our 'love story' for all the questions I'm sure we'll get asked.'

"I'm glad you get to spend time with them. It will be fun for sure," The Latina let out a big sigh, "I can't believe I didn't really think about that."

"Well, it's almost 4 am and I'm exhausted. We still have a few days to get a story together. Talk to you tomorrow?" Brittany asked softly before another yawn came out.

"Absolutely," Santana yawned herself. "Sounds good. Goodnight, Britt."

Brittany started to call Santana every evening after that first after that first 4 a.m. phone call. The phone calls usually weren't too long, but they did put a little pep in Santana's step. Thanksgiving was only a few days away now.

"So have you and Brittany decided how to introduce her to your family?" Quinn looked up from her laptop at her roommate.

"We're just going to tell them we've been dating a little while and she can't go with your family until Saturday," Santana just shrugged a little. "So some of it what be the truth."

"Ohhh! Now I want to go so bad to see you squirm," Quinn let out a small laugh as Santana just flipped her off.

"It's going to be fine. I just really don't want to hear Rachel drone on about all her first year college achievements," The brunette smiled a little bit as her phone lit up.

"You are like a fifteen year-old with a crush," Quinn scurried across the room and grabbed Santana's phone out of her hand. "She better not be sending you nudes!"

Santana squealed at Quinn and tried to get her phone back, "She's not! We are just talking about our days is all."

"Sry I didn't call U yet. I've been busy with school work." Quinn read the text and laughed at herself a little. "You guys really are putting this thing on for real. Putting it on thick!"

"Hey, this was your idea!" The Latina grabbed her phone back and flipped Quinn off again. "One of the better ones you've had I think."

Quinn just rolled her eyes about AGAIN. "I guess we'll see about that."

Santana nearly dropped her phone when Brittany Facetime called her. She wasn't prepared for this at all. She was supposed to have all of tonight, all of tomorrow and the whole way home the day after tomorrow to prep for 'seeing' Brittany.

She ran her fingers through her hair really quick and answered the call. She couldn't help the huge smile that came across her face when she saw Brittany for the first time. "Hey," She said softly shuffling across her bed. "How was your day?"

Brittany had a huge smile on her face, "Hey yourself." The math student sat down at her desk, keeping her eyes on her screen. "It was good, just super busy. I know it's not finals week yet, but it's almost as bad. How was your day?"

The brunette offered a small laugh giggle, "I know the feeling. My day was busy and full as well."

"I've got a paper to do tonight and a quiz to take," Brittany sighed a little and shook her head. "I'm so ready for a long weekend. Double majoring is a pain in the ass. I also really like the glasses."

Santana groaned a little bit, "Oh that sounds terrible. I only have some reading to do. I'm excited to have four days off too." Santana could feel her face heat up a little bit from the comment. "I….I didn't even realize I had them on."

"What's your favorite thing about going home?" The blonde asked quizzically, "Well, I like them. I didn't even realize you wore them."

"I'll be honest and it might be lame," The Latina said sheepishly, "Mami's cooking and Sunday's watching terrible telenovelas with my Abuela. I really only wear them at night. I wear contacts during the day."

"You've been raving about your moms cooking the last couple weeks she better cook as good as you say," Brittany teased a little. "I don't miss my mom's cooking. She's a terrible cook, but my dad's I do miss. I really miss my cat. I can't have him until I live off campus next semester."

"Don't worry, you will be impressed by their cooking. That's something I can promise," Santana picked her phone up and laid back on her bed. "I'm sorry you can't have him. I'm sure that's hard."

"It's literally the worst. He's my best friend," Brittany stopped talking suddenly. "I have to do my online quiz is due within the next two hours. But I'll text you later if that's okay."

"Ohh, sure." Santana nodded quickly, "You can text me whenever you want."

Thanksgiving was here. The last couple days of class went smooth. Brittany and Santana had talked on the phone each night with each other. Today was THE day. Santana was going to meet Brittany then heading to her parents.

Santana was a nervous wreck. She was tapping all her feet impatiently to the beat of the music. Brittany was late…well, she wasn't late. She just wasn't on Santana time. Which is to be fifteen minutes early for EVERYTHING. She was being a little over dramatic. Brittany had GPS so finding the Lima bean wasn't an issue. What if Brittany actually decided to bail and didn't tell her? Or what if Quinn told her how over bearing her father could be…

She squealed when there was a tap on her window. Brittany was outside her door with a big smile on her face. The Latina took the hint and got out of the car, "Hey, I was starting to wonder if you got lost."

Brittany rubbed the back of her neck and gave her a shy smile. "Well, I know you said I didn't have to bring anything, but my grandma always says never go somewhere empty handed. So I stopped and got wine…But then I thought I didn't know what or if your parents drank." She motioned to the bag on her arm, "So I got red wine, white wine, champagne, and sparkling cider just in case."

Santana couldn't help but smile at Brittany trying to be a good date. "Thank you for getting those. They will drink some of each of it. If they don't, I'm sure my Abuela will kill the bottle of red wine," The brunette giggled as she motioned Brittany to follow her around the car. "Let me get the door for you and we can go to my parents." Santana opened the door for Brittany, "I promise this won't too painful. "

"Santana, don't worry about it." The blonde smiled at her, "Good! It's not a real holiday without a little buzzed grandmother action." Brittany got into the passenger seat and settled in. "I'm really glad you wore your glasses. You look beautiful."

The brunette giggled at her friend's comment, "She's hilarious regardless. But she's extra sassy when she's been drinking." She nearly tripped over her feet on the way back around the car. Brittany texted her she was cute all the time, but seeing the smile on Brittany's face made it all the more real. "Thank you. You look dashing."

The math student was in a dark blue button up with the sleeves rolled up, khaki pants, black shoes and cute suspenders. "Thank you. I wanted to look nice for dinner. Meeting the in-laws for the first time and all." Brittany chuckled a little and patted Santana's leg, "I guess this is it."

Santana smiled at the blonde's joke. "The in-laws can be a little nuts. I have been warning you. But I guess this will be the moment of truth."

Brittany got out of the car first grabbing her bag of drinks along the way. She made her way around the car and opened the door for Santana. "From here on out we have to act like we're dating if you want them to believe it. I will lay it on as THICK as you want." She offered her hand to the brunette to help her out of the car.

The brunette took the other girl's hand and stood up. "I know. I guess here goes the show." She took a deep breath as she messed with her keys getting ready to open the door to her parent's house. "This is it, Brittany."

Brittany put her hand on the small of Santana's back and patted gently. "It's okay, honey. I'm sure your parents will love me."

"Santana," Maribel squealed as she saw her come through the door. "Oh mi amor. Te he echado de menos."

"I missed you too, Mami." Santana hugged her mother tightly. She pulled away and motioned to Brittany. "Mami, this is Brittany. She's the one I was telling you about."

Brittany offered her hand for a hand shake. "It's nice to meet you Mrs. Lopez. Thank you for inviting me into your home."

Before Maribel could reply, Alma came into the room and threw her arms around her granddaughter. She poked her in the sides. "Are they not feeding you at your fancy school?"

"Abuela, they are feeding me plenty," She hugged her grandmother tightly. "I've missed you so much." She grabbed Brittany's hand just as she pulled away from her grandmother. "Abuela, this is Brittany. We talked about her on the phone last week."

Maribel looked at Santana with a sly smile, "Just a week? You've been talking to me about Brittany for almost a month."

Alma looked at Brittany up and down and smiled at her softly, "Nunca me dijiste que era tan hermosa." She grabbed Brittany's hand and pulled her towards the kitchen, "Let's get those beverages into the fridge. You can tell me how you've been taking care of my Santana."

Santana groaned at both of the elder women in her family. "Could you please stop trying to embarrass me? We've literally been here for 5 minutes. You have all day to do that…"

"It's so nice to meet you," Brittany smiled at Santana's grandmother. She motioned for Santana to follow as she was getting pulled away. "You should come help in the kitchen, honey."

Santana felt a little chill down her spine when Brittany called her by a pet name. She knew it wasn't real, but it still felt good. "I'm right behind you guys," She reached out for her mom's hand and pulled her into the kitchen. "I want to go taste everything before dinner."

Maribel just rolled her eyes at her daughter, "I usually only let you do that when you've helped me cook."

"Maribel," Her mother just waved her hand at her dismissively, "They came here early to spend time with us before everyone else comes. They also need to eat. So Skinny!" She ushered them all into the kitchen. "I also need to hear how you met!"

The girls weren't in the house long before Miguel Lopez's voice came booming through the house. "Is my little girl home?" He walked into the kitchen as he hung his jacket on the back of one of the dining room chairs.

Santana squealed breaking away from her mom and grandmother's interrogation of Brittany, "PAPI!" The young Latina jumped to her father's arms and hugged him tightly. "I've missed you."

"I've missed you too, sweetheart." He picked her up a little and kissed the top of her head. "So, you must be Brittany."

The mathematics major stood up from the bar stool, "Yes, Sir. I am Brittany Pierce. It's a pleasure to meet you." She offered her hand for a firm hand shake. "You have a lovely home."

He shook her hand gently and offered a small smile, "And a lovely daughter. But I'm sure you noticed that."

Santana smacked him in the arm and groaned at him, "Papi…Don't scare her off. We've literally been here an hour."

"Honey, if Mami and Abuela haven't scared her off yet I'm sure I won't," He motioned to them cackling like hens in their mother tongue. Brittany was about ever fifth word coming out of their mouths. "Did you know that my Santana is pre-law…I would rather her be pre-med. But, I couldn't convince her otherwise."

Brittany smiled softly at his obvious admiration for his daughter. Santana's reaction to him entering the house showed their bond deeply mutual. "Yes, Mr. Lopez I did. It's one of my favorite things about her. She wants to do as much good for the world as she can."

"What's your major, Brittany? Santana said you've been in several dance recitals," He grabbed a wine class out of the cupboard, "It's a beautiful art, but I'm not sure how lucrative it would be for a career."

Santana wanted to crawl into her own body and disappear. She knew her dad was going to give Brittany the fifth degree, but going her right out of the gate was a little much. "Papi…" She said with a slightly warning tone.

"Mi amour," He said sternly, "It was just a simple question. I'm just trying to get to know Brittany better is all."

Brittany put her hand on the small of Santana's back and offered her father a smile. "San, It's okay." She nudged her in the hip softly with hers. She turned her attention to her father, "Actually, Mr. Lopez, dance is just my stress relief and my cardio. I am double majoring math and organic chemistry. I'll be pre-med for pharmacy school."

"That's excellent, Brittany," Miguel nodded in approval. He looked over at the clock and smiled a little. "Santana, Rachel and her Dads should be her soon. I know you haven't seen her since you've been at school."

Santana grabbed Brittany away from her dad just as the Berry family was knocking on the front door. "So, this is the real deal," The brunette took in a deep breath tried to collect her thoughts for a second. "This isn't at all because I still have feelings for Rachel. She was my first…a lot of things. First friend, first girlfriend, first love and so on. I know she cared about me, but she treated our relationship like an experiment. Like…it was some kind of life experience merit badge. She's majoring in preforming arts and vocal performance. So I think for her the added drama and attention to our relationship was part of the thrill."

"So the break up hurt you and your friendship and you want her to see you're getting over it just fine," Brittany tried to pick her words carefully so she didn't over step. They had talked a little bit about the break up and the reasoning Santana needed a date, but she hadn't heard Santana's voice so pensive.

"That's actually fairly accurate," The brunette let out a soft sigh. "The worst part was she acted like us breaking up wasn't a big deal and that I should act like our friendship should be the same." The Latina put her hand on Brittany's arm and smiled at her. "I appreciate you doing this for me."

The blonde frowned a little bit at the explanation that her 'girlfriend' just gave. "People react different for different reasons. But if you guys had been friends for so long she should know you and how you process things better." She put her hands on the side of the brunette's check, "I'm glad I can help. But I also don't mind spending time with a beautiful girl."

"I don't mean to make her sound all bad either. She really was my best friend for a long time. She's a little over the top but her heart is in the right place," Santana felt goosebumps start go up and down her arms when Brittany touched her face. "You are putting it on really thick…"

Brittany just smiled at her softly, "I'm not putting anything on right now. I really did want to spend time with you. I was bugging Quinn before your 'masterplan' to try and get you to come home with her again soon."

The law student was a loss for words. She knew she and Brittany had started to connect a little, but she thought it was just her wishful thinking. Hearing Brittany say so much herself made her stomach flutter. "Quinn never really said that much, just that you had given her permission to give me your number. But you had a boyfriend at the time, so I didn't want to text you while you were in a relationship."

Brittany stalled for a second a little confused. "Boyfriend…," The blonde's nose crinkled up and she stuck her tongue out kind of disgusted. "Oh, that wasn't a boyfriend. A friend set us up and it was kind of a blind date. I had met him at a party before but was very brief, a friend of a friend kind of situation. I was also fairly drunk at the Halloween party. I remember making out with him."

Santana just laughed a little bit, "Ohhh, yeah. You were making out with him, but you also threw a drink in his face. Then brought him a caramel apple to say you were sorry."

"Ohhh," Brittany rubbed the back of her neck slightly embarrassed. "I don't remember the drink in the face. I remember the candy apple. But I ate most of it after I gave it to him."

"You're so cute when your nervous," the brunette said softly as she reached out and gave Brittany's hand a soft squeeze. "Well, I honestly think you're cute all the time."

Just as Brittany was about to respond the door to the office opened, "Santana I've been…" There was stalled silence between the three young women in the room. "I'm sorry I interrupted your moment."

Both girls turned towards the room's new occupant. Santana shook her head quickly trying to gather her thoughts. Brittany closed the space between her and Santana. She put her arm around the shorter girl's waist. "It's alright. I'm Brittany." She offered her hand out for a handshake.

Rachel's eyes darted between Brittany and Santana trying to judge their interaction. "Ohhh, that was so rude of me," The vocalist shook the blonde's had a little too excitedly. "I'm Rachel Berry. Long-time friend of Santana's."

Hiram and LeRoy Berry were chatting with Maribel and Miguel as they all helped set the table. Brittany and Santana joined them in the dining room.

"Oh, Santana!" LeRoy sat the dish down on the table and cross the room to hug the young Latina. "The first semester is treating you good! Your mom told me everything has been going good."

"Hey, Roy." Santana teased a little bit and gave him a big hug. "It's been going great. I've been busy so I haven't come that much. My classes have been…"

"We know you haven't been coming home, Santana!" Her grandmother calls as she comes from the kitchen was a bowl in her hands. "That's why you are getting so skinny." She poked her side just as she set down the bowl.

"Abuela," Santana huffed at her softly. "I'm not getting skinny. School is feeding me enough."

"Santana Marie," Alma said in a warning tone as she grabbed her granddaughter's cheeks, "You shouldn't be sassing me on a holiday." She teased softly.

"Respect your elders, Santana." Brittany teased her a little before put her arm around Santana's waist and kissed her on the cheek. "Honey, don't sass your Abuela."

Santana felt her whole body start to get warm. She knew that gestures like this were bound to happen over the course of the night, but she was still not prepared for it. "Britt, stop…" She knew her face was red.

Hiram watched the exchange between the ladies. He walked around to room to the little group and offered a hand to Brittany. "I'm Hiram Berry. I know you already met my daughter Rachel. "

Brittany took his extended hand shook it gently, "It's nice to meet you. Santana told me so much about the whole Berry family. I'm Brittany Pierce."

Rachel came from the bathroom just as Brittany introduced herself to her father. "I'm so glad you could join us Brittany. It will be so nice to have a new person at our traditional get together." Rachel pulled a chair out around the table and sat down, "I wish I would have known Santana was bringing a guest. She didn't mention it in our weekly email chain."

"I'm really glad I could be here too," Brittany pulled a chair out on the side of the table for Santana. She motioned for her to sit down. "I wasn't sure if I was going to be able to come today. But my aunt and uncle can't come in until the weekend. So my family is doing our Thanksgiving this weekend." Brittany looked over to Santana's mom and grandmother. "Do you ladies need any help bringing anything in from the kitchen?"

Maribel waved Brittany away, "You're a guest. That is nonsense. You sit down and get to know Rachel. We are just have a few things to bring in."

"That sounds like a fantastic idea, Mr. Berry," Brittany said softly as she but her arm around the back of Santana's chair, rubbing her shoulder softly. The duo of parents walked into the kitchen to finish getting everything prepped for the table.

"How's school been going Rachel?" Santana shifted a little nervously in her seat a little. She felt Brittany's fingers running across her shoulder and towards her neck softly. The Latina tried not to shiver at the blonde's soft touch. She did notice a slight flare in Rachel's nostril. The one that she got when she wasn't the center of attention.

"School has been fantastic," She clapped her hands together in excitement. "I am the first freshmen to ever be invited to sing at the winter showcase. It's always been strictly an upper classman's affair. Which you would know if you would have read or responded to my last two emails…" The short brunette pulled her phone out and starting scrolling through pages of different sheet music. "Do you think I should do classic Christmas or should I do a newer up to date song?" Rachel droned on for another few minutes. "I was leaning towards a classic ."

Santana just nodded through the whole slew of information Rachel has been spatting out. "That is fantastic, Rachel. How did you manage to get that honor?"

"Well, I was doing my normal early morning warm ups in one of the practice rooms and you'd never believe what happened," Rachel threw her hands up with enthusiasm.

"Excuse me, Rachel," Brittany held her hand up softly. "I'm sorry to interrupt you." Brittany ran her hand over Santana's. "Honey, do you want me to get you a drink?"

Santana was a bit surprised that Brittany had stopped Rachel mid-sentence. She was even more shocked that Rachel stammered for second and closed her mouth, only offering a small nod as a reply. "No, I'm okay. I can wait until we are all settled and sitting for dinner."

"Okay," Brittany spoke softly to her girlfriend and kissed her cheek. "I'm sorry Rachel. I'm curious about your mind-blowing method of getting so much attention."

Santana squeezed Brittany's leg tightly under the table almost as if try and keep her from poking too much. "I did read your emails. I've just been really busy the last couple weeks. But Brittany doesn't know the story. Please continue."

"You have been busy," The blonde teased Santana openly. She brushed a piece of hair out of her face, barely touching her cheek. "I love when you wear your glasses."

Rachel cleared her throat, making it clear she was unamused by the two lovebirds. "So, Brittany," Rachel said pointed as she folded her napkin up and put it in her lap. "How did you and Santana meet?"

Santana started to panic a little. She and Brittany had briefly discussed what they were going to tell her parents, but dad coming back early saved her from the embarrassment of fumbling through a lie with her mom and grandmother. "Rachel, we don't really have to do this now."

"Oh, honey. It's alright," Brittany rubbed Santana's shoulder more and gave it a small squeeze. "Santana will swear to this day that my cousin, Quinn dragged her to that early Halloween party." She poked Santana in the side a little and smiled at her. "I think it's because she thought her costume was over done. She was Wonder Woman and Quinn was…well Harley Quinn."

"Santana always has liked Superheroes," Rachel slyly commented as she gave a little satisfied smile. She wasn't sure she liked someone else having Santana's attention. Not that it had to be of the romantic verity. "Batman has always been her favorite."

"Batman was her favorite until she watched Smallville reruns and fell in love with Lana Lang, now it's Superman," Brittany tried not to laugh when she saw the annoyance on Rachel's face. "Anyway, I was at the party with a blind date. Kind of a friend of a friend. I met Santana while she was with my cousin. The date and the party ended badly for me. Puking, making out with a dude, and a hang over the next day." Brittany just laughed a bit, "But apparently someone took pity on me. Quinn gave Santana my number because apparently my drunk mumbling was all about Wonder Woman. It did take Santana a week to get back to me. But we did hit it off. We've been kind of annoyingly cute ever since."

"So you've only been seeing each other around a month?" Rachel asked skeptically. Santana was a very sweet girl, but she was also kind of defensive. She had always been polite enough but rarely let anyone really close. The vocalist was very surprised and maybe a little bothered by the obvious attention to detail Brittany was knew and remembered.

"Yeah, I'd say that's close to right." Santana spoke up softly still a little surprised at how good of an actress Brittany was. She knew the blonde could dance, but she had no idea she would be this believable. She thought they would have stumbled through dinner. But Brittany wasn't missing a beat.

Just as Rachel was about to speak up, all the parents flooded into the dining room with hands full of dishes. Brittany pushed her chair out quickly and grabbed a dish from Maribel. "Por favor, Déjame ayudarte con eso."

Maribel was taken a little by surprise at Brittany's Spanish. "Thank you, Brittany." She looked over at Santana who looked as equally as stunned. "Santana, es ella fluida?"

Brittany spoke for herself before Santana answered. "I wouldn't say fluent. But, I'm pretty close." The blonde winked at her girlfriend. "This all looks so wonderful. Seems like it's time for dinner."

The conversation through dinner flowed easier then Santana thought it would. Her parents didn't poke and prod Brittany too much about their relationship. She just assumed her Abuela and mom would do it once it was time for dessert.

Rachel was being as self-involved as usual pretty much controlled the conversation for the first half hour of dinner. The two families were used to it, but Alma didn't always keep her mouth shut. She was making snide comments in Spanish to Santana and Maribel. Brittany was catching almost all of the side conversation.

Hiram picked up his glass of wine and took a small swig of it, "So Brittany, we've known Santana since she could walk basically. So what about you? What's your major? Do you go to the same school as Santana?"

Brittany covered her mouth with her hand softly and nodded for a second as she finished chewing, "I don't go to school with Santana. She's my cousin's roommate and we meet one weekend when she came home Quinn." She folded her napkin and put it in her lap, "I am actually double majoring in organic chemistry and applied mathematics."

Leroy nodded with approval and chimed in on the conversation, "I'm sure that makes for crazy semesters for you. How do you find time for a social life?"

"Actually grad-school isn't as bad," Brittany just shrugged a little bit. "Under-grad was much worse."

Maribel just laughed a little bit and sipped her wine. "Already done with round one of college and picks good wine," The older Latina just laughed a little topping of her class. "Santana, cásate con ella."

Santana almost spit out her mashed potatoes, "Mami!" Santana scolded her softly and pushed her hand softly.

Rachel's mouth was just hung opened for a few seconds, "You brought wine and you're in grad-school. So you're like 25?"

Brittany shook her head no quickly, "Not even close. I turned 21 in June. I was dually enrolled in high-school and community college. A lot of my advanced placement classes transferred as general education credits. I finished my undergrad in May. It's my first year of grad-school. I didn't have much of a summer my junior or senior year of high school."

Santana was surprised that most of the things coming out of Brittany's mouth were things she already knew…Well, with the exception of her excellent Spanish. She didn't realize that had been talking that much about real life over the last couple weeks. Now she didn't want the dinner to end. Not that she did before, but her family seemed to like Brittany. She was starting to like her more and more…Boy was she in trouble…

Alma smiled at across the table at her granddaughter and her girlfriend, "Brittany, ¿Cómo aprendiste tan bien el español?" She watched Brittany's hand slide across the table and grab Santana's free hand softly. She couldn't help her smile from growing even larger.

"I wasn't born in Ohio," She stated matter of factly, "My dad was a mechanic in the army. So when he and my mom got married he was stationed in Texas. The demographic was very blended. I was lucky to have the opportunity to learn Spanish from friends I made as a young age and also take it in school at an early age."

Santana opened her hand and ran her fingers across Brittany's palm, "That was one of the biggest surprises I got of the day."

"I can't tell you all my secrets early on, honey." Brittany teased a little as she pulled Santana's hand to her lips and kissed her knuckles. "I've got to keep you interested."

Rachel had excused herself to make a phone call right after dinner. The short brunette got a text message or email that made her extremely flustered. The men were doing the clean up as per family tradition.

"Jesucristo, mami, ¿por qué me harías esto?" Santana nearly dropped the plate of brownies when she walked into the living room. Her mother and grandmother had family photo albums spread out across the coffee table. "Britt…You don't have to entertain them and look through all of that old stuff…"

"Mija," Her mother said sternly and grabbed brownie off the plate. "We are not trying to embarrass you which is obviously what you think. We just want to share you our favorite memories of you with Brittany."

"Esta es la primera vez que traes a alguien para que nos conozca." Alma said pointedly, "So this is a new experience for us. You are also an old child and only grandchild. So you're pretty much screwed, Santana." Her grandmother smiled broadly as she sipped her wine a little more.

Brittany listened at the whole conversation with amusement, "San, I really like learning all this stuff about you. I also get an unbiased telling of childhood stories that I'm sure you would have skewed in your favor." The blonde teased the younger girl a little and patted the spot on the floor beside her. "Come sit with us."

Santana sat the plate down on the table and made her way towards the couch, "You have to promise not to tell ALL the stories…" She peddled back toward the couch to sit and nearly squealed when Brittany grabbed her hips and pulled her into her lap.

"Sit with me so I can hear your side of the stories," Brittany put her head on Santana's shoulder leaning over looking at the photos. "Ohh..Ohh," She pointed at one of Santana dressed as Batman, "That must have been before the Smallville reruns." Brittany teased her gently and tickled her sides a little.

"I don't even remember telling you about that," She had been replaying their conversations through her mind ever since Brittany had shut Rachel down at dinner about the superhero comment. "How did you know that?"

"One of the times we were up until all hours of the morning, you were mumbling about why you put on the Wonder Woman costume and then told me if you dressed as Lana Lang no one would have known who you were." She gave the brunette's hand a squeeze, "So which Halloween as this?"

Maribel laughed out loudly and shook her head quickly, "It wasn't Halloween…"

"MAMI!" Santana hissed at her and put her head in her hands, "I wore that costume for almost the whole summer before first grade."

"And you were how old when you figured out you were gay," Brittany poked her sides again a little teasing her. She felt Santana start to shake in her lap a little bit. She was more ticklish that she thought. The blonde decided to let it go.

Rachel walked back in to the room pushing the swinging door open dramatically, "Apparently the winter show case music selections are due as soon as we return from Thanksgiving break." She threw her hands up for flare, "How will I ever decide in four days?"

Santana just rolled her eyes a little at her childhood friend, "Rachel…Don't act like you haven't decided which you want to sing. You have a song ready on the fly for ANY possible event," Santana turned to her head to look at Brittany, "I mean she has a list of appropriate songs picked if she's ever asked to sing at Barbra Streisand's funeral."

Rachel just pointed at Santana, "Don't ever say those 3 words in the same sentence again. Barbra Streisand will find a way to live forever." She took a second out of her own self-indulgence to notice what everyone was actually doing. "Ohh, some of the younger years were my favorite. There are so many pictures of us."

Brittany turned a couple of pages and pointed one of the two of them out, "Awe, honey. Look at you in a to-to. Your silver leotard is so cute. Was this a Christmas recital?"

Rachel sat down on the other open seat on the couch and pointed at the difference in their leotards, "Oh no. It was just the leads were in pink," She pointed to herself proudly. "I was one of the youngest in the troupe that year that got to dance with the ten and eleven years old." Rachel laced her fingers back and leaned against the couch, "I'm what you call a triple threat. Singing, Dancing and acting. I can do it all. Well, that's what the industry calls it."

"Oh yeah. I'm a terrible singer," Brittany said softly and shrugged a little bit. "I got accepted to Juilliard, but as much as I love to dance, I knew a professional education was more practical. I can always teach a dance class at a local YMCA whenever I get settled after pharmacy school."

The Berry family had made their exit not long after desert. After another hour of looking through photo albums and a little more wine everyone was starting to settle in to the living room.

Miguel leaned the recliner back and cracked open a beer, "Brittany, in case Santana hasn't told you, it is a Lopez family tradition to watch The Grinch on Thanksgiving evening."

Maribel just laughed at her husband, "It's really just an excuse for us all to take a nap after the big day. We feel less guilty if we are all napping in the same place." Maribel waved her hand at Brittany to get her attention. "It's also Lopez women family tradition to do Black Friday shopping. Since your family Thanksgiving is Saturday you are more than welcome to come with us."

Santana stammered a little bit and put her hands up, "It's not fair for Brittany to drive almost an hour back to her grandparents tonight to drive an hour back here tomorrow."

Alma just rolled her eyes and her granddaughter and waved her excuse off, "It's not like Brittany can't spend the night here. Her driving all that way especially if she plan on getting up early tomorrow to come with us is nonsense isn't it Brittany?"

Brittany was actually taken a little by surprise by both of the older Lopez women. Santana had warned her they don't warm up to very many people easily. She felt kind of obligated to accept the invitation. "I think it sounds like a great time. I really don't mind the drive to and from."

Miguel leaned up from his reclining position and looked at the blonde, "That is not happening. You will stay here tonight. There's no need for you to do all that traveling. I'll make you all breakfast tomorrow, too."

Santana started to panic. This was not part of the plan. She just wanted Brittany to razzle Rachel some then head back to her grandparents…not that she didn't want Brittany around, but this was getting deep and very quickly. "Britt, let's go put some popcorn on." She didn't even give the blonde a chance to answer before she pulled her into the kitchen.

"You really don't have to stay and come do this with us tomorrow." She grabbed a microwave bag of popcorn out of the cupboard. "It's mostly my mom shopping for the toys for tots for the church and Abuela saying things really aren't that much cheaper." She started the timer on the microwave and let out a sigh, "Don't feel pressured to do any of that stuff. It's more than dinner and conversation which I'm sure is all you bargained for."

"Santana," Brittany said softly catching the brunette's attention, "I'm having a great time with you and your family. Tomorrow actually sounds like a really good time," Brittany rubbed the back of her neck nervously. "I know this is really the first time we've hung out, but after talking so much the couple weeks before and now this. I'd really like to go and get to spend more time with you."

Santana felt the faint blush cross her face at Brittany's admission. She also couldn't help but notice how cute she looked when she was nervous. The blonde had kept it together and on point all night. "I'd really like it if you would come with us. We can cool it on the girlfriend thing while we are going out shopping if you want. I don't want any of this to be any weirder for you."

"Santana," Brittany stepped closer to the shorter girl and grabbed her hand gently. "It's weird that it's not weird…" The blonde tried to think of a logical way to put it. They knew each other better than most people probably did by several dates in. "I'm trying to figure out a good way to say this without sounding…I don't know. Crazy." Brittany sighed a little, "Quinn talks about you a lot. She says you're a good friend. Funny, smart, caring, sometimes a little sassy but she adores you. Quinn basically hates everyone. As I've gotten to know you even if it only has been over the last few weeks, I do know I want to get to know you better. I know it all sounds so…"

Brittany was cut off when Santana put her hand over her mouth, "It doesn't sound crazy or weird. Maybe seems a little too good to be true," The brunette took her hand away from Brittany's mouth and rubbed her cheek softly. "I want to get to know you better too. I'd love it if you spent tomorrow with Mami, Abuela and me."

Brittany leaned forward and kissed Santana on the cheek gently, "I think we are going to get along just fine, Ms. Lopez." The brunette opened the microwave and pulled the bag out, "I suppose we should go back out there with this and talk to your parents some more."

"I'm pretty sure they are all three asleep by now," Santana grabbed a bowl down from the cupboard and poured the popcorn in it. "I'll be right back." Santana was right parents and grandmother were asleep. She grabbed a quilt off the couch and made her way back into the kitchen. "Let's go sit on the porch swing and hear embarrassing stories about you since you got some freebies today."

Brittany grabbed Santana's hand and followed her through the front door, "Best Thanksgiving ever."

#brittana #santana lopez #brittany s pierce #brittanafic

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ansbobcar · 11 months ago

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EP 4. A small problem

WORD COUNT. 1480

Link to overview

_ _ _ _ _

It’s been a month now, the gossip magazines and Kaldo’s loud mouth spread their relationship like the summer wildfire the Ice Cane put out in the south. But sadly, their work only seemed to double as well, leaving them no room to do anything but head over to Joe’s for some sweet intoxication to rid the stress late at night. But that only worked for him. She couldn’t get drunk even if she wanted to, bringing a notebook to doodle cute dragons and doors to pass the time until the brunette dozed into slumberland. Not exactly what either of them thought.

“Maybe we should abstain from alcohol for a month,” she told herself, as she draped a mossy green knitted blanket over her junior before she placed a light heating spell onto the blanket. Although the office had a fireplace, the room’s insulation wasn’t the best. Thankfully, the capital was never met with shivering blizzards or even snowfall like the northern regions so the nightly breeze which commonly greeted the open window only licked a tingly sting once in a while.

His hand hung loose and poked out of the blanket, and quickly adjusted it. “I’ll see you again in the morning, okay?” She ruffled his hair and stood up.

“Rinka,” he mumbled in a whisper. “Can you stay, please? I don’t want them to get suspicious.”

‘He’s cute when he’s drunk,’ she commented to herself. “Alright.”

_ _ _

Strutting down the hall with elegance that could make a fair maiden and manly gentleman’s heart swoon at such a pristine face, was a man chosen by the gods. Even with a son who was only 5, he was intrigued and amused by his god daughter’s whereabouts. After all, she had completely skipped the dinner his lovely wife had prepared to be with her boyfriend! He couldn’t believe it! She wasn’t in her usual place so he walked up and burst the doors open with a clear question.

“What have you lovebirds been up to?!”

Godfather or not, he was shushed. “It’s only 6 in the morning, Ryoh. What about your own child?” Carefully pouring tea into a cup.

“It’s a weekday, he’s going to attend kindergarten,” he brushed off, gladly accepting a cup and adding a cube of sugar. She shook her head at his reply. “What did you want anyways?” She watched as he sat down next to her on the couch just facing the sleeping brunette.

“Just wanted to beat Kaldo at his snooping game--I’m kidding, how far have you guys gotten?”

“What do you mean by far?” Puzzled by his words, she sipped onto her own cup.

“You guys must have kissed already if its’ been months now,” her eyes stiffened from widening from those words. “Or has it gone further?” He pestered her, shoulders apprehensive at the thought. “What about dates hm?” to which they relaxed once more.

“We’ve mostly only had time to drink, and he does it ‘till he’s senseless,” she sighed. “Any ideas? We’ve been stacked to the point we can’t think elsewhere.”

“Maybe try a picnic for a change, there’s this really nice spot in the forest where you can oversee a lake and mountains,” he mentioned. Taking out a photo of when he was younger with his wife-then-girlfriend, they were matching in blue “Yeah, this one. You should take him there. Oh and wear different clothes. Helps with avoiding the paparazzi quite a lot.”

“I’ll consider it.”

Consider? Once he woke up, they immediately agreed without any further questions. Children are becoming more and more ungrateful as they grow older. They opted to do it the morning after the next, after acquiring the location of the area from the idea generator himself. After dropping off their spare clothes in the office for the night, they both agreed to meet at the spot the following morning.

With a simple yet powerful spell, her eyes were greeted by a grassy hill and cornflower dyed sky surrounded by forests and a lake in the distance as stated with a basket in hand. The blonde searched with her eyes for another figure and oddly enough, she saw a silhouette in white. She snickered at the thought as she lifted up the hem of her skirt and walked over.

_ _ _

If it wasn’t for the straw hat, basket and lack of onlookers, he would’ve confused the sight of her in a white dress for a bride walking down the isle. “We didn’t even plan our outfits together,” she covered her mouth with a gloved hand before giggling. “We’re like swans or something.”

The sun rose in the horizon slowly as they took a seat. She only brought tea, bread and spreads, and 4 baked sweet potatoes. Handkerchiefs were provided by him though. The ambience and freshness of the forest lightened their mood as they began to eat breakfast.

“You really like potatoes,” he murmured, amazed at the flavour with barely anything.

“My mom grew these,” she stated. That’s… such an odd thing to grow though. “She lives outside of the city now, so it makes more sense to do it.” No it doesn’t. “She might try making a business with the city market and restaurants for the fresh produce. Just a side hustle you know.”

The light summer breeze tickled them with the swaying hairs of grass, tiredness was still present in his body though, proceeding to lie down on the mat. Out of care, she took off her bonnet and covered his face from the light. “You don’t need to do that…” lifting it up before he let go of it once more. There was no point in putting up a fight, closing his eyes.

The blending hues of the sky against the gradient of green, the scent of the mild morning dew, paired with the lingering vapour from her teacup made her wish this painting filled with a quiet warmth could be frozen in time. She wanted the moment to last forever. “This would’ve probably been extremely romantic if we were in love,” she mumbled under her breath. “No kidding.”

The ground trembled unnaturally with deep voices filled with rage cascading the background. With increasing magnitude, she hastily placed down her cup and took out her wand from the basket. “What are you doing?” He lifted himself up from his resting position.

“Checking out the issue, there’s a nearby village here which specialises in sheep,” she explained. “So it’ll be better to prevent it, it’s early in the morning to not bother them just yet.”

“I’ll follow you right afterwards then,” flicking his wand to pack their belongings. Immediately, she flew like an angel without wings towards the source. She saw two giants with weapons in hand and immediately amplified her voice. “Please stop!”

“Butt out, you human!” The beared out seethed at her whilst holding his axe. “This is a problem between me and Broggy. Today is no different than the last.”

“What’s the problem then?” They began to explain that recently, the two had split the property of the forest in half in order to settle a dispute. “Our issue, is that damned lake! Broggy gets all the fish!”

“Can’t you introduce more fish into the pond then? Or introduce a fish and produce trade exchange?”

“He might poison me if he does that!” They refuted her suggestion. The two hated each other’s guts. “So as tradition, we settle disputes with a fight. And why are you a human butting into our business? Clearly you were on a honeymoon.”

“But then you’ll frighten the nearby village and increase anti-giant sentiments than before,” she explained. “You wouldn’t want that to happen would you?” Irritating the bearded giant.

“This is an issue between us two! I’ll smack you before you can see it!”

She hawked at the comment internally while keeping her placating expression. “I wouldn’t suggest that if I were you.”

“You’re testing my patience lady,” readying his axe to batter her miniscule body into oblivion. The lack of hesitation in her words infuriated him further to begin his move. “You’ve been warned.”

With a hefty swing charged at her followed by a crack, the heavy axe lost its direction, landing human metres before the other giant’s deer sized toes. Broggy, a giant who had only begun his adulthood, wished he had never fought with the oldie. A giant who was revered in his youth for being an excellent stonesmith. His glass-like eyes watched the tiny human woman’s cloud-coloured dress get muddied without a hint of disgust in her face. Her expression was so serene at the sight of his neighbour’s conditioned and rugged body bursting with violent vigour and dyeing the calming colours of the setting with crimson, his feet were left planted in their place.

The reputable giant Marj Ream was killed. By a human.

_ _ _ _ _

Lol. Uh. I realised, I made a big error with Orter's timing. It's only possible for it to have been 15 months at best unless we're going from before he started being a DV. We're going with that I guess, I'm so lazy to readjust the first episode again TwT I'm so sorry for the inconsistency y'all.

Also did you enjoy the slight date they had? I want to try writing spicier stuff but I'm like mortified that it'll feel too forced. See ya next time.

#mashle oc #mashle fanfic idea #orter madl #mashle x oc #orter madl x oc #mashle

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lostonesart · 5 months ago

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Miraculous Abel

(you'll need an account to read it on AO3 cuz of AI scraping the site.)

but here's the first actual chapter(after 2 chapters of rule setting and setting changes)

CH1: The New Kid

I watch the French countryside roll by as I hold the small, simple wooden box in my lap; a goodbye gift from mom and dad for me moving to Paris with my aunt Riley. In it was a silver ring with a fair-sized clear gem set in it.

“Aunt Riley?” I turn to look at her while she drives.

“Yeah, Little Man?” My aunt asks and her head turns towards me but her eyes never leave the road. She was a few years older than my mom. She was brunette and had hazel eyes. Growing up, I didn't really see her often since she lived so far away. But now I'll be living with her.

"I'm… scared… What if I mess up something simple and look like an idiot in front of everyone? What if they make fun of me?"

"Well…” She pauses for a moment. “Then you'll know who the bad friends are. You remember what me and your mom keep telling you, yeah?" She says as more buildings begin to roll by.

"... 'Those who mind don't matter, those who matter don't mind.'"

“Exactly!” She nudges my shoulder with her elbow, a wide grin on her face. “Say… How’s about after we settle in, we run out and get you some hair dye? You got an awful lot of blond showing.” Ruffling my hair as she spoke about it. I simply nod and go back to watching as we drive deeper into the heart of Paris.

"... Can I go a bright pink this time?"

"Haha-HA! ‘Course, Little Man!" Aunt Riley cheers.

— Agreste Manor

“Natalie, you said the camera I ordered for school arrived, yeah?” The young man asked excitedly as his Father's assistant organized the family's plans for the month.

“Yes, it's right here.” The woman pulled the box from under the desk, setting it aside for the man, and resumed her work. “If you're still thinking about what your first photo should be, might I suggest seeing your mother? I'm sure she'll have an idea for you.” Natalie continued as he was figuring out his new camera.

“Yeah! That's a great idea, Natalie!” Adrien chimed, gently tapping her arm to substitute for a hug before taking his camera upstairs.

Quietly, Adrien cracked open the door to his mother's room. He didn't want to wake her if she was asleep just to show her his new camera. He found her sitting in the window nook, watching outside. Inspired, Adrien aimed his camera and snapped a picture.

Hearing the shutter, his mother turned to see her son looking proud of himself.

“Hey, mon trésor. I see your camera finally arrived.” she giggled at her son's antics. She opened her arms and reached out for him silently requesting a hug, which he happily gave with a small squeeze. “Are you sure you still want to go to this school? I'm going to miss not having you around all day.” She said with a small pout as he pulled back to look at her.

“Yes, Maman. This school is number one in the arts, even compared to elite private schools.” He says as he double-checks the photo. “Plus, you know how much I've been working for this: convincing Father, getting that scholarship all on my own, building my portfolio…”

He looks at his mother's necklace, a cat-shaped pendant. She'd had it ever since he could remember, there were even pictures of him trying to teeth on it as a baby.

“I know, mon louloute. Don't mind me...” His mother laughs and ruffles his hair. “... You've grown up so quickly, I almost can't believe it's been 20 years already.” She says in a nostalgic voice.

“... You should get some rest, Maman.” Adrien gives her a bittersweet smile as she holds his arm to get up from the nook. Growing up, he knew how fragile his mother's health was and how she'd been getting worse in the last few years.

After helping his mother to bed, he retreated to his room to upload his first photo to his computer.

#lostone writes #miraculous ladybug #oc abel #miraculous abel #adrien agreste #emilie agreste #sorry I'm a slow writer #also yes Adrien had to get a scholarship because his dad is a snob who didn't want to pay for art school #if any of the french terms are wrong I apologize profusely #the dialogue is technically in French and any italicized dialogue is 'not French'

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dontbooatme · 2 years ago

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To be honest, I really don't think it's completely out of the realm of possibility for Aizawa's quirk to work on Danny. I mean, yeah, the reasoning behind "it doesn't work" makes sense. But I think especially when it comes to x-overs, there's A LOT of flexibility.

It makes sense for Aizawa's quirk to not effect Danny, but there are a lot of ways it could make sense the other way around too. Like, playing with the timeline. Pre-Quirk Era!Danny AU. Probably the easiest explanation for why Aizawa's quirk works on him

The gene for quirks wouldn't have come out of nowhere. The Pre-Quirk Era is defined by the first person to develop a visible quirk. The glowing baby. But even back then they had to have smth smth cooking in their systems until someone was finally born with a quirk.

(Getting a little sidetracked here, but what if some of the first quirks were subtle enough/weak enough to go unnoticed until one came along that people couldn't find any other explanation for. Small mutations that ended up labeled as birth defects. That kind of thing)

But either way the potential had to be there. Evolution is a slow process.

And we know the accident already rearranged things down to the molecular level for Danny.

Who's to say that the reason Danny and Vlad became halfas after their accidents wasn't because they carried a certain dormant gene?

But even outside that au, that same explanation could still work, in an Alternate Reality kind of au.. just how different are their worlds? What are the points in their histories where they diverged? I mean, America and Japan exist in both worlds. So some parts of their histories are the same. Are quirks something future generations in Danny's world are going to end up dealing with?

But even with the explanation that Danny Doesn't Have a Quirk And So-- Like.. That doesn't have to mean Aizawa's quirk doesn't work on Danny. Because Erasure is completely untested against abilities that don't come from quirks. Anything could happen. And there could be so much creativity in that. Danny starts dying, Danny's powers go haywire, nothing happens, it works on Human!Danny but not on Phantom b/c dead boy, Aizawa's quirk makes Danny start to reject his ghost side and the ectoplasm in his system like a bad organ transplant. Personally, my favorite fics are the ones that acknowledge that since Danny's powers come from a different place, something about how Erasure effects him would be different.. but then take that and just go rogue

And the cherry on top is exploring how the characters react to whatever you decide happens. Aizawa's quirk works just the same: we have Aizawa who's just thinking "situation normal" and a Danny who doesn't know wtf is going on. Aizawa's quirk doesn't work: Aizawa has to deal with a suped up teenager and what he thought was an Ace of Spades was actually just a 2 of Hearts. And he has to fall back on tactics he uses for heteromorphic type quirks. Except this kid doesn't just have extra arms to swing at him

And what if.. just spit balling here, but what if Aizawa's quirk did work on more than just quirks? I mean, it works by shutting off the quirk gene and making it go dormant, right? At least I think that's the canon explanation.. that might be expanded fan theories about how it works though. I can never keep canon and fanon straight, in any fandom

But like.. imagine if his quirk worked on more than just the quirk gene. He can only keep it activated for so long.. and quirks are a really convenient way to see it working in real time, fast. But let's take the genes involved in deciding what hair color someone has. I'm blonde, with a blonde mom and a brunette dad. And even though I'm blonde, I could still have kids (if I ever decided I actually want any) who end up brunette. Even if the other parent was also a blonde. So, say he activates his quirk on someone, and say, theoretically, he could keep it activated for long enough. What if that meant their hair starts growing out at the root a completely different color. Same color as the other parent. Because Aizawa "shut off" the genes that were involved in making their hair x color.

But that doesn't happen.. because there's a limit on how long Aizawa can keep his quirk activated

So you could make it work on Danny, and use that to expand on Aizawa's understanding of his own quirk.

Oh, oh, oh! Or what if Aizawa's quirk wouldn't work on Danny, but Aizawa gets, like, contaminated by ectoplasm. And then it works on Danny

I guess what I'm saying is you don't have to get stuck on one idea just because you think it makes the most sense. Take the story in whatever way you feel drawn to. Just whatever direction would be the funnest sandbox to play in

I'm writing a Danny Phantom x My Hero Academia fanfic right now and even though I'm nowhere near it, I'm thinking about the Aizawa's quirk dilemma. On one hand, I want his quirk to do nothing to Danny because it makes sense BUT I also want (because of other fanfics I've read) where his powers go haywire and he just "dies"

So yeah

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just-some-random-blogger · 2 years ago

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Hey! could i get an imagine/oneshot fluff nsfw Daemon x fem!reader where they are married and have a very good, even envied relationship (they totally trust each other and are complicit in everything) but the reader is extremely (at exorbitant levels indeed) touch hungry and soooo needy for him, (but not in a bad way) with a lot of fluff please? (sorry for my english)

Ten & One

Daemon Targaryen x Reader

Summary: As the 11th child out of 14 kids, all you knew was chaos. The pros of being one of the youngest from such a big family meant most of the duties were already fulfilled by your elder siblings, and yet the unavoidable con of having to marry well still lingered. So one can only imagine how wild your house was when you first brought home the Targaryen prince as your husband. It's even worse now that the endless supply of children hailed them as their new playmate.

Word Count: 3k+

Warnings: the way I said this would be short 🤡, smut (impregnation kink, praise kink, choking, riding, oral [f receiving], vaginal penetration), trash talking older sisters (trust me), fem!reader, wife!reader, so so so many kids, soft!daemon, scared by kids!daemon HAHA, girl dad energy!daemon, reader has baby fever ig, flufffffffff, typos, etc.

A/N: YO IVE NEVER WRITTEN A REQUEST SO FAST I THINK yeah so this turned into.... whatever this is. it started out with when I thought of a conflict for the prompt, but then it spiraled like it always does. 🤠 I hope you like it though nonnie!!! And don't even worry about your english. i still cant spell after all the years ive spoken it. 😪 we bilinguals gotta stick together Here's kinda a part 2 to it "Mine"!!!!

In all his years of life, Daemon faced an immense volume of angst, treachery, death, and pain. He was far from a coward and did not even waver under the gaze of dragons. Yet as he sat in the middle of a what he realized was a sacrificing room, only then did he know true fear.

They were surrounding him, filthy, loud, concerning moist-

"Why the fuck are your hands wet, Silas?" Daemon cringed as he grabbed the red haired toddler's hand before it landed on his cheek.

One of the nannies present in the nursery looked to the other and exchanged knowing and amused looks.

One blonde haired boy began to cry as one brown haired boy yanked the toy from his hand. Daemon turns, instinctively needing to hush the child, that was until the brunette begins to cry as well, because a raven haired boy steals the toy he had stolen.

The nannies don't even need to go to the crying kids as one of the older children present, their sister, Daemon thinks, worked to calm them down.

The twin brother of the boy in Daemon's grip with the same burning red hair looked over to whom spoke from the other side of the room, halting his game with his much, much younger brother inside the crib he was not supposed to be in. Silas' lips purse into a soft thoughtful line, brows furrowing against each other as he looks to his small palms, "my hands are not wet, uncle!"

The boy says this in such a sweet tone, with not hint of malice, that Daemon actually feels bad for cursing.

Upon catching where the boy was, one of the nannies move to remove him from the crib. It's futile though, the moment the woman is distracted with the other children, he climbs right back in.

Silas' twin, Oliver, the one with the actual wet hand, vindicates his brother by slapping the prince's lips with his free one, "don't say bad words!"

Daemon looks at the child-he-did-not-know-the-name-of. His only thought was at least the hand that slapped to his face wasn't wet.

"Go to your mother," Daemon commands.

Had it been anyone else, it would have struck fear in them, but the child does not recognize the threat at all, especially not when three of his female cousins come running to Daemon, making the man himself reel back in some semblance of fear.

It seems they finally found the comb and clips they needed to fix his hair with.

Fuck.

"PRINCE UNCLE!" one girl excitedly screams, shooing Oliver from away from Daemon. Oliver gleefully runs towards his darker haired cousins and engage in combat with pillows.

One nanny promptly scolds them when feathers explode everywhere.

Rebecca, or so he thinks that's her name, grins as she makes her way to Daemon's lap. Her older sister, Annaliese (?), runs behind him. The youngest among the three, Constance, he knew, sat on the other side of his lap next to her cousin.

All at once, Rebecca throws her curly, golden-brown locks behind her, making it splash against Daemon's face, adding to injury when her elbow hits the prince' jaw. Annaliese rips at Daemon's scalp, undoing the tie he had in his own silver-white hair, causing a groan to leave his lips. Constance bounces up and down Daemon's lap as she wraps her small arms around his torso and looked up at him with an adoring look.

Verdict, Daemon didn't know what to feel.

Meanwhile.

"Oh, I honestly thought you'd have kids by now!" my eldest sister, Elise nudges me, "with how hotly your prince eyes you-"

"You should have come back pregnant," our fifth born sibling, Catherine, cuts in scolding me, "I already bragged about your fertile womb to those stupid, big mouthed ladies at court."

"Sissy!" I cry out.

"They fucking deserved to be put in their place," Catherine growls, "don't they know how many children our mother sired?" she scoffs, "the audacity of those rats to call you barren just because you haven't gotten pregnant after a few months of marriage."

Elise rolls her eyes, "they're just jealous because their breast milk comes out like sand."

My jaw drops.

"Their cunts are probably drier than sandpaper," Catherine says in agreement.

Our youngest sibling, Gretta, and the only other girl amongst our siblings, makes a face and tries to halt the vulgar insults by telling me, "they're probably just jealous you snagged the prince and they didn't."

"Probably?!" Elise quips.

Catherine throws her head back in laughter, "those smelly cunts are maddened by the very idea."

My older sisters begin to fall into more trash talk. Gretta and I exchange knowing looks and take each other's hand before slowly walking away.

After we flee, I decide I am wholly ready to leave my house and all it's chaos.

"My love, I'm ready to- oh," my perky voice falls in shock when I see my husband's hair tangled up in multiple clips and ribbons. It seems the sneaky girls also got their hands on a bit of rouge, judging by the smeared red on his face.

"AUNTIE LOOK!" Frances (Rebecca) cries in joy as she stood beside her captive, affectionately hugging him, "WE MADE PRINCE UNCLE SO PRETTY!"

"FRANCES, DON'T!" Bethany (Annaliese) scolds her younger sister when she messes up her work, "YOU'RE RUINING MY RIBBONNNNNSSSS!"

"Girls, please, your cousin is asleep!" Daemon scolds weakly, cradling the little girl, Constance, in his arms.

Frances looks down on her cousin, "Oh," she leans down, "prince uncle, I can carry her into the crib if you like."

Daemon turns to Frances, bringing a finger to her face, stroking her cheek sweetly, "I'll do that myself," he turns to the other girl, "if," he drags out, "my lady sets me free."

Bethany takes Daemon's hollow cheeks into her warm hands. Daemon smiles at the sight of her gleaming eyes.

My lips pull into a pout and my hear soars at their exchange.

Bethany, then nodding to herself, turns to Frances, "we did good, sister!"

Frances squeals yet again, nearly choking Daemon as she embraces him tightly.

"Frances!" I finally intervene, amused face falling into concern, "you will behead the poor man at this point."

Frances turns to the said man and releases him slowly. Daemon catches his breath, smiling at the girl, impressed by her strength. He finally stands and brings Constance to the occupied crib where Silas and a baby he-did-not-know were napping.

Frances runs over to me, arms snaking around my skirt as much as her little limbs could, "auntie," she coos, "will you be staying for supper?"

I steal a look at Daemon who is now rubbing his face, unknowingly ruining the rouge he must have forgot he had on. This promptly triggers Bethany as she falls to her knees and mourns her craft, shrieking so loudly she could probably wake the dead.

Daemon, in his panic, promptly picks the girl up, like one would a bag, then runs out of the room, as not to make trigger the rest of the kids into similar shrieks. I watch as Bethany dangles horizontally by her torso in my husband's strong arm as she weeps into her hands.

I finally turn back to Frances after Daemon leaves the room, "sorry, little bug. Your prince uncle and I have to leave now if we wish to return to our home before dark."

Frances pouts at that. I lean down and kiss the girl's nose before leaving her in the nursery with the rest of the kids and their nannies.

I find Daemon in the hall, handing his weeping niece to her teenage brother, who was biting his lip for dear life, trying to hold back his laughter. He makes sure not to forfeit a dirty look at Thomas, but that does not hinder the giggles that still manage to escape his mouth.

Thomas walks away, carrying his sister in her arms, shushing her as he giggled.

Daemon jolts, hand instinctively reaching out for the absent sword in his belt when I come up to him with a grin. He melts against my touch when my thumbs begin to wipe away the redness on his face.

He pulls me close to him by my waist, hands rubbing my back to soothe me, though he actually does so to soothe himself. I giggle, "you would make a fine father."

"They make me eager to pull out," he notes, closing his eyes.

I lightly slap his cheek in a scolding manner.

I was still not done evening out the color on his face when he pushes past me and crushes me into an exasperated embrace, "I thought once I wanted many children after growing up with only one brother," he strokes my hair as he bends down and nuzzles on my neck, "now I cannot even bare the idea of having one."

I scrunch my face in distaste, "I will not be left childless, husband," I begin to take notice of the paraphernalia in his hair, "but," I decide to tease, "if you will not have me, then I shall ma-"

He squeezes me in his arms, lifting me up, causing me to squeak, "who says I will not have you?"

"My prince," a servant calls, making me crane my neck over to whom spoke.

Daemon begrudedly pulls away, giving the man an uninterested expression with a voice that matches, "yes?"

The prince's face contort tighter in annoyance when the servant's face tenses in reaction to what he saw. I see how his lips fight back laughter and the whole incident make me break into a giggle.

Daemon is wholly unamused, and shows it to the servant boy in particular, "it will hurt no less if I slit your throat in this moment," he barks, stepping forward without hesitation.

The servant flinches back.

I bring my hand up to his chest, giving him an annoyed look, "Daemon please."

He clenches his jaw and grips his hands but does not take another step.

"The boat is ready for you and your lady wife," the servant quickly tells, promptly bowing then rushing away.

"You should have let me bruised him at least," Daemon says scornfully.

I roll my eyes at his pouty face, "come now," I say working on removing the clips in his hair, "we must leave before Bethany sees your hair without her embellishments."

Daemon's brows knit as he looks down on me, "who's Bethany?"

The moment we arrive to our home, I finally feel the effects of entertaining the many members of my house the whole day.

I am unbelievably tired when I finally lie in bed in my favorite night gown. I am in fact too tired to even rise from my place and pull the covers over me.

"Pretty girl," I hear him before I see him. In fact I feel his hand climbing up my thigh before I see his face.

I lift my head up along with a brow as Daemon climbs up next to me only in his breeches. I lick my lips at the sight of his exposed skin and clean face. His mouth meets the skin beneath his hands.

"I thought you were exhausted, husband?"

He only hums as he positions himself between my legs, "never too tired for a good fuck, wife."

I allow my head to fall back on the bed as I laugh. I encourage him to do as he pleases when my hand scratches lightly at the roots of his freshly washed hair. Daemon kisses my supple flesh as he lifts my thighs over his shoulders.

He takes his time teasing me, lips gnawing at my skin. I release a sigh and rest my hands to my side, "you know my sisters were cross that I was not pregnant."

He chuckles, pushing my short skirt up, "I'm sure they were."

I moan when his lips meet my core. My body ignites after this.

I grip at the sheets when I feel his tongue dart out. I let out a breath, basking in the sensation. A thought however lands in my head and I cannot stop from asking it, "do you think perhaps something is a matter?"

Daemon stills, head rising from where it was tucked.

I, myself, rise on my elbows and pout, the expression further concerns the face between my legs. It however fades once I say, "maybe we're doing something wrong when we share company."

Daemon rolls his eyes, "you can just ask me to fuck you harder."

I yelp when his face sinks and he nibbles on my sensitive nub. I moan out his name like gospel, and as much as I don't want it to end, I wriggle in his grasp when I think of something else I need to say.

He uses his strength to force me still, wanting nothing but to devour me. I nearly cave and halt my actions, but I catch his attention when I whine his name out in a plea, "Daemon stop."

He is utterly irritated by this, "what is it now?"

I pout in annoyance, "maybe it's because you're too rough!"

Daemon rolls his eyes yet again.

"Daem-" I whine when his lips begin to move against me again, "think about it!"

Daemon's had enough.

He shoves my legs off him and heaves angrily. I move to sit up and give my husband a cautious look. He however manages to get on his knees and quickly yanks me back down, "shall I give you a lesson, my naïve little wife?"

I purse my lips together as he crawls over me, "I am not naïve. I am only saying that-"

Daemon sighs as he undoes his pants.

"- don't you think I should have been pregnant by now -"

He manages to rip them down while hovering over me.

"- considering how often you bed me?"

He throws his clothes off to the side and pulls my legs apart. We simultaneously moan when he enters me and I bring my hands to his nape, digging my nails into his skin.

Daemon presses a kiss on my lips as he adjusts my legs around him.

I expect him to give me a talking as he pounds into me, but I am only met with stillness and silence. And as much as I love the feeling of him in me like this, I begin to get impatient, "well?"

Daemon chuckles, "I'm teaching you a lesson, wife."

I narrow my eyes at him.

He relishes the deviant expression. He bucks his lips slowly, drawing out a moan from me. Daemon is utterly pleased.

He kisses my neck, hands going to my sides, "if you think my fucking is why you haven't fallen with child-"

I yelp when he quickly spins and rips me over him. I brace myself, hands ending up on his chest. I shift above him, making the both of us groan.

Daemon rubs my arms affectionately, taking in how the loose nightgown wrapped on my body. He fiddles with the lace, "fuck yourself on me then."

For a moment, his words make my belly roll in a wave of hot desire. But something else dawns on me when I see Daemon's hooded eyes. I break into a chuckle, he groans out as a consequence to it, "you're just tired, aren't you?"

His eyes darken. I chuckle yet again. I no longer laugh when he flicks his hips into to me roughly, "fucking move."

I hiss and lean into him, shooting him a glare of my own.

Unappreciative of my disobedience, he grabs my hips and glides me the opposite way of his thrusts, "if you do not move, I'll leave you restless and come all over your pretty face."

I whine at obscene notion.

"You wouldn't want my seed to go to waste, now, would you?" he croons, "don't you want me to get you pregnant?"

I moan as I push myself up and grab on his wrists, following his movements with my own thrusts.

He hisses, melting at my actions. Eventually he is still beneath me as I bounce on him. He praises me for finally listening, "that's it," he exhales, "up and down like a good girl."

I mewl at the sound of his deep voice. He digs at the sides of waist when I quicken my pace. At some point, he is unable too hold back from snapping himself into me. He groans as he does so and I reposition myself, allowing him to reach my sweet spot. I nearly drool when he does. I rip at my lower lip with my teeth and release a guttural sound, "Daemon."

He grunts, "yes, my love." His hands sneak under my dress and rubs my bare skin, "you're doing so good. Such a sweet, pretty girl."

I feel his hands on my belly. I roll my head back when his thumb circles on my wet nub.

His fingers dig into me, "you'll look so pretty carrying my child," he grunts, "mmm, fuck, always so ready for me."

My hands climb to his neck when he says this and I screw my eyes shut focusing on the feeling of him sliding in and out of me.

"Fuck," he drawls, absolutely aroused by the pressure on his throat, "harder," he commands.

Daemon awaits the added pressure but curses when there is none. He calls out my name, making me look down at him. I release a gasp when his hands press down on mine as he repeats, "harder, pretty girl."

I bite my lip and nod, constricting my hands on his throat just a fraction.

It seems to be enough as Daemon releases string of profanities before his hands come back to my hips. He pulls his legs up behind me and fucks into me with a renewed sense of vigor.

My voice bounces the same way my body does. I'm pretty sure I don't even move anymore as Daemon does all the work of slamming into me.

"Fuck, Daemon, don't stop," I whine, as I regain the brain to move against him.

Our own bed whines in distress over actions. The entire room is filled with lewd noises.

It's all a matter of time before it's all over.

I find myself pressing down on him when I come with a loud cry. I release such a breathy shudder that after, I lose my breath. I dig my fingers into his shoulders when I feel him follow after me the next second. I absolutely revel in the heat he burns into me, at the idea I could be carrying his seed soon.

Daemon's hands are ripping roughly at my flesh so hard, I practically feel them bruise. I couldn't care less though.

Yelps and moans continue to leave my lips up until we both crash against each other.

I gasp when I hear Daemon pant heavily after I release him from my grip. He is heaving for literal dear life.

"Daemon, are you alright?" I whine in concern.

He looks lightheaded and yet his lips curve into a smirk, "don't worry, my love, I'm more than alright."

I let out a sight of relief, pressing a kiss on his jaw. I rub my hands onto his face, his own rake my dress up and down my back.

"I do hope I get you pregnant this time," he mutters, pulling me close to press a kiss on my forehead, "I will not stop until I do." He rubs his cheek against my head, "we should go again for good measure."

I grunt at the thought at maneuver off him.

He growls, pressing a kiss on whatever he could get his lips on, unwilling to release me.

"Daemon," I warn emptily.

"What?" he mutters, finding my neck. He licks my skin before biting down, "you enjoy this."

I moan and push him off, "that's the point! You're tired."

When I'm off him, laying to his side, he chuckles darkly and climbs over me.

"Daemo-"

"I'm never too tired for a good fuck."

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