#I'm sorry but PLEASE PLEASE TRULY imagine Steve Harrington calling himself daddy

[rhosgobelbun]

sorry I can't hear anyone over how loud baby boy steves' big wet begging eyes are, with how pink and soft his bottom lip gets when steve nervously nibbles on it because he thinks eddie might be flirting with him and he thinks he maybe likes it a lot?? cant hear you over how long and thick his hair that's perfect for pulling and petting is, and how hes all confident and chill with women but would probably blush and stutter and become a nervous wreck the second robin confirms that eddie is flirting with him.

i refuse to listen to anyone who saw steve in that scoops ahoy uniform and thinks eddie wouldn't of taken one look at him in all of that tight blue bubble butt glory and wouldn't of automatically tripped on thin air, landing flat on his back RIGHT BEHIND where steve was leaning over to wipe down tables.

I can imagin steve would turn to look down at him in worry asking, "holy shit dude, you ok??"

And it would practically be canon if trying but failing very hard to look away from those shorts that were hugging steves plump v noticeable assets, eddie answered, "fuck yeah im ok" without even thinking about it.

cue eddie changing steve's nick name King Steve into Baby Boy Queen Steve, steve having a bi-panic break down over it, robin having to constantly assure steve that yes, eddie totally wants to hit that, and me once again not listening to anyone who think steve isn't fucking baby boy

[yikesharringrove]

I'm thinking about Steve is forced to work for his father because he can't get in any college. So he's in the company as his secretary, and he is treated like shit. So he's going to submit some papers for his father's Boss Billy Hargrove and when he sees the Man he can only think about the words Power and Dominate

We’re gonna combine some schtuff.

Anonymous asked:

Hmm What about Steve meeting Billy who’s this rich business man because he wants to work for him. There’s a lot of sexual tension when they’re talking and then they end up fucking 👀👀👀 (++ Daddy Kink)

This is modern, but it’s not totally mentioned.

On ao3 too.

Porn

“Steven, I need you to take these up to the eighth floor.”

Mr. Harrington dropped a stack of files on the corner of his desk.

After Steve didn’t get into college, his father pretty much forced him to work at his office. He had, of course, downgraded the original offer, moved him from Company Representative to fourth-floor secretary.

He has to file things, take messages, and do everything for the entire floor.

By the time he looked up from the message he was taking, his father was already down the hall, halfway to his office.

“No problem, sir.” He huffed, picking up the stack of files, heading to the elevator.

The eighth floor was the executive floor, where the bosses of the bosses were.

It was clean, and quiet, the woman in the desk positioned the same way was smiling prettily at him.

“Can I help you?”

“I have these files from the fourth-floor form Mr. Harrington for, uh,” He looked at the post-it on top of the manila folder. “Mr. Hargrove?”

“Third door on your left.” Steve nodded, hefting the stack to the corner office, the big one. He had to shuffle awkwardly to knock on the door.

“Come in.” He pushed the door, nearly dropping the files in the process.

He had to shuffle with them to get them back in his arms before looking up.

His breath hitched when he saw the Mr. Hargrove.

He was in a bespoke suit, a dark sleet grey over a crisp white shirt, a dark red tie. His chest was broad, his arms thick. His hair was short, but curly and wild. But his eyes are what truly got Steve, a gorgeous bright blue.

“Can I help you?”

“Hi, I’m Steve Harrington. I have, I have the files you requested from Mr. Harrington?”

Hargrove smiled at him, standing up and gesturing at the chair on the other side of his desk, relieving Steve of the stack of files.

“So, Steve Harrington, huh? That you’re father who works down on four?”

“Yes, sir. I’m the fourth-floor secretary.” Billy raised his eyebrows at him, nodding slowly as he settled on the edge of the desk, facing Steve.

Steve was staring at his thighs, so fucking thick in his slacks. Steve wanted them to crush his fucking head. Hargrove leaned forward over Steve, placing each hand on either armrest.

“See something you like?” Steve’s eyes went wide as he looked back at Billy’s face.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Hargrove, sir-”

“Please, call me Billy.” He fucking purred it at him, made a chill run down Steve’s spine. He smirked, his tongue poking out between his teeth. “Why’d he put you at a desk? If he was gonna pull strings for his son, you’d think he’d make you a higher up.”

Steve looked down at the floor, he could feel his face getting hot.

“I was supposed to be a rep but I, I didn’t go to, to college so this was the best he could do.” Billy pulled back, frowning.

“You don’t need college to be a rep. You just need to be good at schmoozing. Kissing ass. You’re pretty enough to make it really work for you.” Steve glanced back up at him as he went around his desk, filling out a memo. “You’re under me now. I want you up on eight, you’re gonna start repping.” He pulled it off the pad with a flurry, heading out to give it to the floor eight secretary.

Steve had no idea what in the fuck had just happened.

“Your father should be getting that soon. Let me take you out to lunch. Celebrate your big promotion.”

“Sorry, but I don’t think I understand.”

“I just promoted you. You’ll report directly to me now, but you’re a representative, gonna be out making connections.” Steve just blinked.

“But, why?”

“I like you. I can see potential.”

Billy took him to some nice place a block down from their building, a place with a separate menu for all the fancy scotch they had. Billy tried two, Steve got a lemonade.

Lunch was nice. The food was excellent, and Billy was wonderful company, would tell Steve you’ve GOT to try this and feed him bites of his own food from his own fork. Steve was hot under the collar the entire meal.

As Steve transitioned to working under Billy, their lunches remained consistent, meeting up each day unless one of them had an important client they were meeting with.

Steve was okay at his job, could chit-chat well with potential clients, did a good job of getting them interested enough to meet with someone higher up to hammer out details. He made connections, but he had no passion for the work, wasn’t all that savvy at it, and straight-up wasn’t even totally sure what the company even did.

But he stuck it out, wanted to be able to see Billy every day, to tell him what he’d accomplished during the week, have Billy smile at him and tell him he was good.

Steve may not have been the sharpest knife in the drawer, but he knew enough about himself to understand a few things: 1. When a hot, beefy guy tells him he’s good, that really fuckin’ does it for him. 2. He wants said hot, beefy guy to tell him he’s good while doing, other activities. 3. He has serious daddy issues.

He realized the third one when he woke up one night in his small apartment, from a dream in which Billy was just like, taking care of him, was holding him and telling him that’s he’s precious, sat him down and reminded him to eat, made sure he drank water. There was literally nothing sexual about it, but he still woke up sweaty and panting, the word daddy on his lips.

And then came the Christmas party.

It was for the whole company, to celebrate the holiday, and a booming fiscal year, a reward for a job well done, an incentive for a continued job well done.

Steve was drunk.

He had necked about five lemon drop shots early on, had topped it all off with a few beers and more cocktails.

He was in Billy’s office, trying to get his shit together enough to call someone to give him a ride home when he heard the door open.

“You okay in here?” Billy was smirking, leaned against the wall next to the closed door, smirking as Steve’s head lolled over on the back of the chair.

“Heyy, Bill!” Steve giggled to himself. “How's your Christmas party?”

“It’s not looking quite as fun as yours in here.” He dropped into the chair next to Steve’s. “You need a lift home?”

Steve’s eyes were big as he looked at him.

“Yeah. I would like that.”

Billy’s car was sleek, vintage, and gorgeous. Steve was sitting low in the passenger seat as Billy navigated the way to Steve’s little apartment.

“You wanna come in?” Billy had to help Steve walk to the door of his apartment, had to help him with the keys at each door. “I want you to come in.” Steve slapped at the wall a few times before finding the light switch.

Billy smiled at the cozy little studio, the soft bed in the corner, covered in pillows and blankets, the squashy couch against one wall, the fridge covered in pictures and letters.

Steve was struggling out of his nice clothes, wiggling his way awkwardly into pajamas, slamming into the bathroom to poke at his eyes until he got his contacts out. When he returned, in a too-big t-shirt, soft little shots, and these big amazing glasses, Billy was very nearly in love.

“You want a drink?” Steve opened the fridge. Billy peered inside over his shoulder, seeing a six-pack of beer, a bottle of mustard, one-half stick of butter and an avocado.

“What in the hell? Aren’t you like a grown-up? What is this fridge?” Steve just turned around, looking at him blankly.

“You do know I’m like, barely twenty, right?” Billy blinked.

“You said that you didn’t go to college.”

“I meant I didn’t get in to college. I really fucking stupid.” He grabbed a beer, settling himself on the couch, tugging a blanket onto his lap. It looked hand made.

“You’re not stupid at all. I work with you, I know how smart you are.” Steve just shrugged. Billy joined him on the sofa, taking the beer out of his hand and taking a drink. “But you’re seriously that young?”

“Yeah, turned twenty like, a week and a half ago.” Billy choked on his beer.

“I didn’t even know it was your birthday? Why the hell didn’t you say something?” Steve shrugged.

“Didn’t want to make a big deal outta the whole thing. My dad forgot about it, so why cause a stink.”

“Your dad sucks. I’ve worked with him for the past six years, and I can’t fucking stand him, can’t really imagine him as a parent.”

“That’s cause he wasn’t. He and my mom would leave me alone in the house most of the time. She would travel and he had an apartment out here by the office. The house was in a small town about two hours south. He would come home every few months, tell me I was stupid, and an embarrassment to him, and be on his merry way.”

“I’m sorry, Stevie. My old man was really awful too. Second I graduated high school, I was outta there. Left him a letter telling him that he’s an awful person, that I’m a big ol’ homo, and that I never want to see him ever again. It was fucking amazing.” Steve had inched closer to him on the couch, his knees pressed into Billy’s thigh under his blanket.

“I wish I could do that. Just tell him every way he’s been a horrible father, that I don’t want to work at his stupid company.”

“Then quit.” Steve gave him a Look. “I’m serious. If you don’t like it, then what’s the point?”

“I need money. Fucking look at this place. My dad cut me off when I didn’t get into college, said my salary was the only money he would be giving me anymore. I’m fucking broke.” Steve sniffed.

Billy reached up, stroking his jaw with one hand.

“I’m so sorry he treats you the way he does. You’re so precious, deserve the fucking world.” It sounded like Steve’s fucking dream, the one with Billy looking at him softly, taking sweet care of him.

Steve leaned forward, catching Billy’s lips with his own, keeping it slow and gentle.

“Stay. Stay the night with me.”

“I don’t think that’s such a good idea, Baby. You’re drunk.”

“Don’t wanna have sex yet, just wanna sleep with you. You look like you’d be a good cuddler.” Billy laughed lightly into the kiss.

“I’m an excellent cuddler, Pretty Boy.”

Steve slept so fucking peacefully wrapped up in Billy’s strong arms, the heat of his body pressed against his back.

He woke up to the smell of coffee, the sizzle of eggs and bacon. Billy was standing over the stove, wearing stolen clothes and cooking him breakfast. Steve plastered himself to his back, pressing a kiss to Billy’s neck.

“Where’d you get all this?”

“I went to the grocery store. Because I’m a grown-up.” Steve bit his neck lightly in retaliation.

“I’m kind of a grown-up.”

“Yeah, but you just need to be taken care of a little bit more.” Steve went red as he loaded up his plate, eating quickly. “I could do that. Take care of you.”

Steve looked up at him, mouth full of scrambled eggs, open just a little bit.

“What do you mean?”

“I wanna take care of you, Stevie.” Billy used one foot to move Steve’s chair, scooted it until Steve was facing him, leaning down into his space. “You ever thought about findin’ yourself a daddy?”

Steve’s face began going hot. Of course he had fuckin’ thought about it, ran his fingers over his cock while choking out Daddy to images of faceless, Billy-esque men in his fantasies.

He nodded.

Billy grinned, wide and sharp.

“Get undressed. Get on the bed.” Steve stood on shaky legs, feeling like a newborn deer, just learning to walk. He stripped slowly, never once breaking eye contact with Billy. He sat on the bed, legs spread a little, arms by his sides. “Do you want this, Steve?” Billy was moving slowly towards him, had turned off the stove as he left it behind. “You can say no at any time. Can tell me to fuck off and I won’t mind, won’t judge. Do you want this?”

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, Daddy.” Billy was standing in front of Steve, placed two fingers on his chest, pushing him back slowly.

“Pick a word. One you’ll only say if you want me to stop. Tell me your word.” Steve’s eyes darted around the apartment.

“Tangerine. Tangerine is my word, Daddy.” Billy leaned down, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

“Now let Daddy take care of you.” Steve was spread on the bed, his legs open to Billy. “Good boy.” Steve whimpered. Billy smiled at him. “You like that, Baby? Like being a good boy for Daddy?”

“Yes, Daddy. Wanna be good.” Billy smiled. He settled on his knees between Steve’s legs, leaning forward to lick up Steve’s cock. He flicked his tongue against the slit, making Steve’s breath hitch.

He cried out when Billy took him into his mouth. He sank down all the way to the root, Steve’s cock bumping against the back of his throat. He pulled off, leaning down to mouth at Steve’s balls, making his back arch.

Steve threaded one hand into Billy’s hair, just holding onto the soft curls, free of the usual product he used to tame them in the office.

Billy was looking at him through his long lashes, moved his attention back to his cock, hollowing his cheeks as he sucked, curling his tongue along the underside of his cock.

His mouth was hot, was velvet soft around Steve. He pressed until his nose was in the hair on Steve’s pelvis, he didn’t even choke as his cock slid into his throat.

“Daddy, Daddy I’m gonna cum.” Steve tugged softly on his hair, whining and writhing and he drew closer and closer.

His back arched as he choked, cumming in Billy’s mouth, gripping his hair roughly.

“Fuck, Daddy. Made me feel so good.” Billy pulled off his cock, pet up Steve’s shaking thighs as he smiled up at him.