#domestic!harringrove

[nyabr0]

double posting but heres a piece I did a few weeks ago that I didn’t post bc i felt lazy for following the ref photo so closely but I looked at it again for color refs and I like it very much so here🤲🏻

what do you think hes making?

[passivenovember]

Random Billy & Steve headcanons because I’m cozy in bed and don’t feel like opening my laptop to continue my wip:

- Billy takes really good care of his teeth, like. Amazing care. He flosses twice a day and uses a pre rinse and is very conscious of how much pressure he’s using when he wields the brush because he saw one terrifying picture of receding gums in the dentists office when was ten and it scarred him forever. He takes such good care of his teeth and everyone is surprised that his breath never smells like cigarettes or anything, really.

- Billy can tongue tie a cherry stem in three point zero two seconds. They’ve timed it many, many times.

- Steve blows his nose at the dinner table. And in the shower. He figures, why waste money on tissues and starts using their dirty boxer briefs to clear his sinuses. Figures they already use the boxers as cum rags, anyway, why not kill two birds with one stone? (Billy thinks it’s gross)

- Steve likes to fall asleep in front of the tv and then awake, suddenly, in the middle of the night to move to the bed. Billy can’t fall asleep without Steve so he stays up late reading and then passes out the second the tv shuts off in the living room.

- Billy likes birds. Steve is terrified of them.

- Steve eats a lot of popcorn. So much goddamn popcorn. As far as he’s concerned, it’s basically a food group. Their first honest to hell knock down drag out “oh my god, I can’t spend the rest of my life with this person,” fight happens because Steve drops kernels all over the place and tosses half-empty bags on the night stand “for later.” Later never comes. It’s a mess. Billy learns to live with it, and Steve tries to do better.

- Steve makes really good breakfast but burns everything that doesn’t include the classic pillars of bacon, eggs, and maple syrup.

- Billy falls asleep everywhere and he snores, but it’s soft and cute and Steve loves it (actually, he sounds like a wonky garbage disposal, but Steve can’t sleep without the white noise)

PLEASE FEEL FREE TO ADD YOUR OWN 😇

[fizzigigsimmer]

The King Unbroken: Part II

I continue to be in a moody place. So sorry to all, you get more of this. For @adelacreations and @dragonflylady77

Steve left his heat den just after sunset, two days earlier than he should. His body feels as if it has been over stretched, the muscle achy and sore as if he’d been through battle even though the only fight he’d had recently is with himself. His jaw hurt the most he thinks, from all the clenching. The broken off section of tree bark that he used to stifle his cries during the worst of it, is riddled with teeth marks but unbroken, so it goes back into a pocket of his tactical pants. Fighting men and scavengers alike know a muffler often comes in handy. 

Before the grey-dogs there were drugs and toys to replace alphas and help ease omega’s heats. Mild heats with minimal side effects had liberated omegas, and Steve’s youth as a twentieth century omega had been defined by independence. Of a degree. It was still expected that he should want to settle down with a nice alpha someday and have pups, but not even his alpha could legally forbid him from having a life and a job outside of that if he wanted it. 

But that was before. Now without heat aids, the days of omegas being chained up and owned like animals are back. They depend more on the pack than anyone for balance, and on alphas in particular to keep from becoming a danger to themselves during their heat. 

Steve’s loath to admit it, but when the need takes hold and his world narrows to pain and fear he actually is little better than an animal. He’s not silly or superstitious enough to believe all the folklore about people turning into wolves – because if they ever did, it’s been hundreds of years since anyone witnessed a true transformation. But the arrival of the grey-dogs has brought out the animal in all of them, changed Steve so much, that he can understand where all those old legends came from.   

He doesn’t go belly down and back arched anymore, because there’s no more soft bed and no one he can trust not to take advantage in order to find relief, even if they offered it. Steve doesn’t purr for anyone who scratches his scalp, like he did for high school friends and girlfriends once upon a time. When the heat takes his mind, it leaves nothing but his ferocious need to keep safe, to survive, until he’s like a werewolf on the full moon, howling and scratching at the walls. He’d attack anyone who was stupid enough to try and offer him comfort at such a time.  Outside of the compound they all make a habit of sleeping in their tactical gear, but Steve’s ruined too many good clothes during heat not to know better by now. 

He’s claggy with sweat and unsteady on his feet like a newborn colt but he pushes through it, assessing the shredded state of his tank and cotton drawers before accepting the underwear is a lost cause. He thinks he can salvage half of the tank top.   

He finished dressing quickly, not wanting to prolong his time bare and vulnerable for a second longer than necessity demands, fetching the big knife from his pack to make strips out of the drawers. It would be better if he could wash them first, but he wasn’t going to waste precious time or water out in the open on something trivial. Slipping the knife into the ready pocket on his combat trousers, Steve check that the velcro straps fastening his nail-bat to his pack weren’t coming undone before hoisting the pack carefully upon his shoulders and setting off.  

He walked a few paces into the woods, away from the opening in the tree and left an old roadside flare glowing on the ground for the others to find, before turning and heading south west as planned. His team is patrolling the perimeter as close as Steve’s heat allowed them to comfortably get, laying low because this is foreign territory. Hargrove’s territory technically, although Steve doubted the alpha had very many people watching this area.  

It’s too far north of his lair for one thing, and it’s too wooded for another which provides ample cover for grey-dogs. If their intel is correct, Hargroves's camp lies north of San Diego somewhere around Kelso, or what used to be. There’s a few hundred miles still between there and here and no good reason for Steve to be so on edge. Nothing besides the paranoia that smelling the sea on the air seems to cause him now.   

The west had fared better than most during the first wave of the grey-dogs. Terrifyingly quick, with rows of curved teeth, tough skin and thick claws, their sole weakness seemed to be their aversion to extreme heat. The casualties in warmer climates had been fewer, and when people had realized that the grey-dogs wouldn’t follow them far into the desert, major colonies had formed there. The usual bullshit had divided them, people fighting over crucial water reserves and other resources, until eventually only a few major populations controlled everything. 

There had been five colonies spread between southern California and the states formerly known as Arizona, Nevada, New Mexico and Colorado of note. Just like everywhere else there were smaller scavenger populations of people scattered throughout the west, but it was those five who drew the territory lines and with whom Steve’s colony had traded essential medicines for citrus, stone, and the crucial mechanical parts that Hawkins needed to keep their facilities running.  

No one had expected that things would change, and that the SoCal colony could fall to a band of raiders – the enemy finding their way somehow around the colony walls and wreaking havoc before the colony could pull itself together to mount a proper defense. The alpha and the pack’s strongest fighters had all been slaughtered before morning, and those people who had not already been killed or fled into the desert had knelt before a new king. Hargrove had declared himself alpha and no one who’d lived to tell about it had argued.  

Taking over such a large compound had provided Hargrove with ample resources to control, but it required a firm hand to keep the conquered in line and prevent a mutiny. It was not surprising that Hargrove spent the majority of his time at SoCal Colony but their spies had reported rumors that not all of Hargrove’s pack had moved into the new compound, that some of them had stayed behind at their old camp in Kelso. Most likely it was to maintain it as an option for retreat if it ever became necessary, but there was talk that Hargrove was keeping something important there. 

Whatever the truth, Kelso was Steve’s destination. Robin, Jonathan and the others had been brave enough to follow him on this suicide mission so he wasn’t about to lead them to certain death by trying to kill Hargrove when he had dozens of fighters at his disposal. They had to draw Billy out, and the obvious answer to that was whatever was so important in Kelso that Billy couldn’t leave behind unguarded. 

He tried to stay alert as he walked, having gotten good at keeping a constant awareness of his surroundings running somewhere in the background of his mind. The last time he’d been caught in a moment of inattention it had nearly cost him an ear, and had ended with dozens of stitches and weeks of painful recovery. The hair on that side of his head no longer grew as thick on account of the scars so he kept the sides around his ears shaved now. Robin said he let the rest of it grow twice as long because he was overcompensating. She was probably right, so sue him, the floof-hawk was one of the few joys Steve had left. 

He wasn’t far from the road when he heard it – the familiar sound of low growls and feet rushing over the dry forest floor. He reached behind himself for the handle of his bat, pulling it free and swinging at the first grey blur that lunged at him from the shadows. Steve had a brief glimpse of tiny rows of glistening teeth as its face began to open up before the blow connected with a wet crunch, batting the squealing creature off to the side. There was no time to check if it was down for good before the next one was coming at him. Steve barely had time to get his bat up, this time only just catching the side of the grey-dog as he danced out of reach, backing up toward the road as his gaze frantically swept around the trees to try and count them all.  

He counted three, including the one he’d already hit. Not so bad. Especially since one had gone straight to cannibalizing the injured. No honor amongst monsters. But that left one still standing, ghoulish grey skin oozing blood from where the nails had torn holes in its side. It reared back on its hind legs and let out an other worldly shriek of rage, enough to chill the blood – but Steve was unphased.  

He tightened his grip on the bat and took a purposeful step forward, boot thudding down hard into the earth as he drew the air into his lungs – and roared. 

“Arrrrrrrrrhhhh!” 

The grey-dog lunged, but he was ready ducking low – they had a tendency to go for the chest and throat – and twisting his torso as he brought the bat up hard. He had only a split second to enjoy the thrill of victory before something struck his side, the last grey-dog colliding so hard against his side that it sent him toppling to the ground. The bat fell from his hand as he fell, and if Steve would have tried to reach for it the fight would have been over. Heart pounding in his chest as the grey face above him opened up into four sections of razor-sharp teeth, Steve reached for the knife in his pocket instead and brought it up into the creatures' throat as its mouth descended.   

When Steve reached the edge of the road splitting the wood, he was grateful to hear the rare sound of a running engine. A dangerous sound, unless you happened to be expecting it.  

The jeep was crawling down the middle of the road ahead of him when Steve stumbled out onto it, Jonathan at the wheel, front beams slicing through the semi-dark that had fallen.  

“A-hoy!” Steve cupped hands over his mouth and called, grimacing as some of the sticky blood coating them smeared on his face. Gross. The jeep came to a stop and Robin’s slender white arm (he could tell by the striped sleeves) jutted out of one of the back windows and waved him forward with an urgency that spoke for itself. Noise and blood were all good ways to attract grey-dogs, and even with an armored jeep there was only so much they could do if a swarm was nearby.  

Steve jogged to catch up, on high alert for more grey-dogs. He didn’t let down his guard even when Jonathan had reached across the seat to open the passenger side door. It wasn’t until he’d closed the heavy door and he heard it lock behind him that Steve finally let himself slump back into the seat with a shuddered breath, closing his eyes in relief. 

“Steve! What happened?” Robin bellowed in his good ear, leaning forward to squeeze her torso between the two front seats.  

“You look like shit, Dude!” Dustin chimed in from where he was squeezed in next to Robin in the prized middle seat. If something got through the window, he wouldn’t die first.  

“Smell like it too.” Lucas grumbled from the window, pinching his nose. From the very back row Gabe, Eleven and Jonathan’s younger brother Will stared ahead with uncertain gazes. 

“Got ambushed by a pack of grey-dogs,” Steve explained nudging Robin’s concerned face out of his with his elbow. “But I handled it. Relax, would you.” She rolled her eyes but sat back with a sigh as Jonathan started up the jeep again.  

“Excuse me for worrying Your Highness, when you left the den two days earlier than scheduled. What gives?” 

“We don’t know how much longer Hargrove will be in SoCal, that’s what gives.” Jonathan guessed, his eyes straying from the road just long enough to meet Steve’s.  

Steve nodded in affirmation and Jonathan’s lips tightened in something close to disapproval but he said nothing. Regardless of what he thought of Steve’s choices – he got it. But after what had happened to his mom Steve had no doubt he would. 

“We can’t afford to lose any more time than we already have.” he said, ignoring the worry clinging to all of their scents. The air was thick with it. 

“And you’re sure the heat’s broken?” Robin pressed, “You’re not going to have a flare up an hour from now an get yourself killed?” 

“You know what my heats are like. I wouldn’t be sitting here talking to you if it hadn’t.” he reassured her, but even still she continued to glare at him for what felt like forever, until she finally relented with a small nod.  

“Fine. But can we at least crack open a window? You really do reek.” 

“Not till we’re out of the woods.” She groaned when Jonathan shot her down. The jeep was military grade and the windows bullet resistant, but that didn’t mean they were impenetrable and trees could hide more than just grey-dogs.   

“This is the perfect spot for a raid.” Will mused from the back and Jonathan raised his head to catch his eye in the rearview. 

“Says the raider.” 

Steve’s mouth twitched into a smile, thinking that it took one to know one. 

[Link to Part One]

[bigdumbbambieyes]

listen, all i’m asking is that Steve is forced to wake up early while Billy gets to sleep in and he’s all tucked up under their duvet and Steve’s just returned from the bathroom and he’s standing beside the bed, yearning to climb back in because his boyfriend looks so cozy and comfy

and Billy wordlessly opens up the blanket, peeks an eye open before muttering, “C’mon…”

so Steve all but jumps back into bed, feeling Billy’s arm and the duvet consume him in the warmth of the blond’s embrace, Steve feeling just as toasty warm as he’d expected to

and maybe he falls back to sleep and wakes up in a rush an hour later while Billy’s all smug in bed, dozing off once again as Steve presses a kiss to his forehead before rushing out the door jfnfkfn

[thatgirlwithasquid]

looks like i will be spending christmas day home alone writing smut. worse ways to celebrate i suppose.

[billybigbang2024]

The Billy Big Bang (banner courtesy of @alicetallula) posting season starts on November 1st and Team #7 will be posting their collaboration through November 17th! The artwork will be completed by @dirtbagdefender and the fic is by @veeforvindicta / veeforvindicta! We can't wait to see their collaboration like a blue sky in the middle of winter, and hope you'll be relishing it just like us!

Fic Title: A Patch of Blue

Rating:  Explicit

Warnings:  Graphic Depictions of Violence

Relationships:  Billy/Steve/Eddie, Billy/Steve, Eddie/Steve, Billy/Eddie

Characters:  Billy Hargrove, Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson 

Additional Tags:  Ableism, Sign Language, Friends to Lovers, Mutual Pining, Domestic Abuse, Neil is a shitty parent, Canon Divergence

Length: 15k

Summary:

Post-Starcourt, Billy is rendered deaf. Relearning how to communicate and exist is a struggle. He has to patch himself back together, piece by piece. But even though the world is cruel, there are people that are willing to love him. 

[0ceanblue]

Another lil HC of Billy and Steve’s night routine.

They both shower before bed. Billy likes to lounge on the bed half naked after it and Steve likes to get into his cotton plaid pyjamas after it. Or, depending how warm it is, some loose cotton shorts and a random shirt, maybe no shirt at all.

Billy often picks up a book to silently and comfortably read while Steve gets all ready for bed- and once Steve’s ready, he’s straight eyeing Billy up like- You gonna let me cuddle up or what?

Billy knows it without even looking at his boyfriend- can see him out of his peripheral, hovering about at the empty side of the bed, just waiting for Billy to lift an arm for Steve to cuddle up to him.

And of course Billy does. Lifts his arm and Steve’s straight climbing down and shuffling up closer to snuggle into Billy’s side, head lulling on his shoulder as they both settle down.

Steve can easily fall asleep while Billy’s busy reading. It’s the comfortable silence between them that lulls him to sleep. But sometimes he likes to tip his head back in such a way that he’s able to just watch Billy concentrating on that book.

Admiring every little feature of Billy’s. His freckles. His cute nose. Those gorgeous, ocean blue eyes flickering over the words on the pages of his book. That perfect mouth that Steve likes to kiss so much-

“You’re so pretty when you’re concentrating.” Steve says in the softest voice after a long while of just looking. A sleepy, but fond as hell tone.

It makes Billy’s eyebrow perk up slightly, and his gaze shifts to look to Steve. How fucking adorable Steve looks- looking up at Billy like he’s a cute, giant teddy bear or something.

Billy huffs a fond, amused sound- wants to tell Steve to shut up - with love, of course. But he only moves a hand up to cup under Steve’s jaw- tipping the male’s head back some more so he can reach his lips to press some soft kisses to them. His way of thanking him for the compliment.

Keeps his hand under Steve’s jaw, which only makes Steve nestle closer and settle more. And then Steve’s out like a light, while Billy’s still reading for just a little longer.

[steviespanties]

He can’t sleep. Steve can’t fucking sleep, not because he doesn’t want to or because he isn’t tired, but because it’s 3am and one of his neighbors decided their equally shitty apartment would be the ideal place for what sounds like a rave. At least that’s all he can think as one endless techno track bleeds into another.

He’s kinda losing his mind a little. Too tired to get dressed and ask a bunch of drunk people to turn the music down. Heartbeat too frantic to calm himself enough to sleep through the noise.

Just when he’s started contemplating getting out of bed, the front door opens and he hears Billy step inside, back from a shift at the bar and probably having gotten drinks with his coworkers after.

There’s a couple minutes of the sounds of Billy moving around that provide some much needed distraction from the music still pulsing through the walls: Keys and wallet land on the dresser by the door with a soft jingle. The fridge opens and closes and there’s a moment of silence while Steve imagines Billy stands in the kitchen bathed in fridge light as he gulps down cold water.

Steps sound through the hallway and into the bathroom, followed by the toilet flush and rushing water- just long enough for Billy to have washed his hands and brushed his teeth.

Steve's heartbeat slows down while he listens to the familiar noises of his boyfriend navigating their apartment, careful to be quiet so he doesn’t wake Steve, yet still distinct and there. He buries himself in the blanket until only an eye peeks out, finally overcome with a wave of cozy sleepiness.

They have their laundry hamper in the bathroom, so he’s not much surprised by Billy being half naked when he comes into their bedroom, but by the way he slams into Steve when he falls into bed and half on top of him. The air leaves Steve's lungs in a quiet 'oof' and when he inhales he takes in Billy's smell: booze and cigarettes and hints of cologne buried under sweat. A little gross. A little hot. Steve can’t bring himself to complain.

Especially not when greedy hands dive underneath the covers and roam over his body, paw over his thighs and up towards his hips and belly and chest till he shudders at all the contact. He sighs out a soft moan. Behind him, Billy huffs triumphantly.

“Figured you couldn’t sleep.” He inches closer towards Steve. Presses against his back and then tugs insistently at his underwear.

“Have you heard the neighbors?” he groans into his pillow, still a little stressed while his body starts to react to being pet all over. Fingers slip into his waistband and tug his underwear down just far enough for Steve to hitch up a leg and free himself. The underwear gets stuck somewhere around his ankle, a distant sensation he's soon distracted from by Billy's hard dick nestled between his ass cheeks.

They rut against each other lazily, skin a little too dry to make smooth movement possible. Steve wraps a hand around himself. Muffles a moan into his pillow when Billy tugs at a nipple and sends a small shock of pleasure-pain down his spine.

The techno music registers long enough for something to click in Steve's head, enough to pull him from the pleasant haze he's been sinking into: "Are you trying to fuck me to the rhythm of the neighbor's shitty music?!"

Billy huffs a laugh against the back of his neck. Warm, wet breath that makes Steve shudder. "Don't be mad," he coos into Steve's hair. His hand vanishes long enough towards the headboard to rifle for the condoms and lube.

It's almost embarrassingly easy to prep Steve- a lubed up finger is easily shoved up his hole to slick the way and soon Billy rubs the tip of his cock against his rim. It doesn't take long for Steve's body to get used to the pressure, hole opening as he bears down till it's relaxed enough for Billy's cock to just. pop inside. He's used to the stretch. The light ache as his lubed up hole slowly fills up. Steve spreads his leg wider. Buries his head in the mattress instead of his pillow and groans appreciatively as he bears down again and takes Billy even deeper.

They fall into a long-practiced rhythm. Billy grinds into him, then slowly pulls out till only the tip holds Steve open. Sinks back into him as Steve lifts his hips to meet him, insides feeling so stretched and tight at the same time. Their pace doesn't change, but Billy still groans and curses when Steve tightens up just for a moment.

He manages to match Billy's pace with his hand on his dick and slowly sinks into a haze of sleepy pleasure. He wants to come. He wants to sleep. A kiss lands at the back of his neck, short and sweet and he's overcome with fondness for Billy.

The heat between their bodies sinks through his back into his heart and lungs and stomach. Makes him moan and tug at his dick harder, mouth open just so he can suck in enough air. A shudder goes through his body, shocking him with the first wave of a long, drawn out orgasm that makes his dick pulse hot come into his palm. He silently rides through it, Billy's hands holding him together as he fucks him through it.

Distantly, Steve notes as Billy comes to a slow grind and sighs his name. Feels the reassuring weight of him blanket his back. And while their stupid neighbors still blast their stupid music and there are tissues and towels in their near future, he basks in this moment of quiet. All he thinks and hears, all he feels is Billy Billy Billy.

[runraerun]

hear me out: Steve is rich and he loves kids so you just know he goes all out and gets the King-Sized, name brand candy bars.

So when the kids knock on the door he hits them with✨✨✨

(Billy doesn’t hand out candy, he’s one of those freaks that sits on the porch in a mask and pretends to just be a decoration until the kids get close enough and then just jumps up and scares the shit out of them.)

Here is the link to the AO3 Collection!

Happy Day 2 of 13!! I can't wait to see what y'all have planned for today! Here's a little poll just for fun:

[dragonflylady77]

only with you

The secrecy has been lifted, and I can finally reveal the fic I wrote for @billysblueeyes for @harringroveholidayexchange. The brief was some domestic fluff, GBFs, Billy and Max bonding, and some smut. I think I delivered.

Rating: M | 2185 words | domestic fluff, a dash of smut, harringrove parents

Summary:

Billy and Steve are hosting Christmas dinner at their house. Domestic fluff with a sprinkling of smut. And kids.

Read on Ao3

Steve watched Billy sigh and scrunch the piece of paper he’d been scribbling on into a ball.

“Babe…” Steve started as Billy threw the newly formed ball towards the trash can, narrowly missing it.

“Not now, Stevie, I’m concentrating. Need it to be perfect.”

A warm feeling unfurled in Steve’s chest. He walked across the living room to stand behind his husband at the breakfast bar and plastered himself against Billy’s back, hooking his chin over Billy’s shoulder. “It will be.”

Billy grunted as he grabbed another piece of paper and started again, pencil moving quickly across the page, lines and swirls filling the space. 

“You got this.” Steve dropped a kiss on his cheek before moving away. Best to leave Billy in his creative bubble. This stage of tattoo design was usually the most frustrating for him and the added pressure of this particular one was bound to stress him even more. It wasn’t every day that Billy had to come up with a matching tattoo with Max as a surprise Christmas present.

After checking that Noah was still fast asleep in his crib, Steve gathered the dirty laundry and put a load of washing on. It was early enough in the day that he would have time to hang it before their guests arrived. He double checked the guest rooms were ready then went back to the kitchen and made some coffee.

A few more scrunched up balls of paper had joined the growing pile by the trash can. He picked them up, feeling Billy’s gaze on him as he straightened up. He turned around to see Billy staring at him with a smirk.

“See something you like?”

“You know I do, baby,” Billy replied, unfolding himself from the stool he’d been sitting at for over an hour and walking to Steve, stopping when he was standing toe-to-toe with him. Steve went willingly when Billy put both hands on his hips and pulled him closer.

Leaning into the kiss was second nature at this point. Steve hummed softly as he wrapped his arms around Billy’s neck, fingers running through the unruly curls that had escaped his messy bun. Parting his lips when Billy nibbled on his bottom lip, and too focused on the heated way Billy licked into his mouth like he wanted to devour him, Steve let himself be walked backwards until his back was against the wall.

Billy abandoned his mouth to nibble a path down the column of his neck and Steve relished the feel of his husband’s body pressing against his—had since that day Billy had cornered him in the locker room after basketball practice, really. 

Steve’d had enough of the endless taunting and had surprised both of them when he’d grabbed the lapels of Billy’s open shirt and planted one on him... He’d been really late picking up Dustin from school after that and endured a million questions about the hickey on his neck. It had all been worth it, though, when Billy had shown up at his house later that night. They had been together since. 

Billy’s hands pushing on his hips brought him out of his little trip down memory lane and he startled when he realized Billy was on his knees in front of him.

“Billy, babe, your knee…” Steve protested, in a feeble attempt to spare Billy some unnecessary pain on Christmas Day. His knee hadn’t been the same since that fateful night Neil Hargrove had found out about them and taken to Billy with a golf club.

“Yeah, yeah, I know, pretty boy, I’ll pay for it later,” Billy countered as he kept undoing Steve’s pants and pulling them down his thighs. “Some things are more important,” Billy whispered, nuzzling Steve's cock over his boxers, before he moved a hand up under the hem to cup Steve, giving him a squeeze. 

Billy looked up, the blue in his eyes nearly eclipsed by his pupils, and Steve shared the hunger he could see on his husband’s face. Always had, from the first day he’d seen Billy show up in that blue Camaro at Hawkins High. 

Keeping the eye contact, Billy then carefully extracted Steve’s cock out of his boxers and used the precum beading at the tip to help his hand slide better as he got Steve fully hard.

Steve held back a moan, bucking his hips, searching for more.

“So greedy, Stevie… always so greedy,” Billy said with a grin. 

“Shut u—” Steve bit down on his hand to stop from crying out when Billy swallowed him down to the root without another word.

Steve stopped trying to make words, all thoughts that were not BillyBillyBilly fleeing his mind. His free hand found a home in Billy’s hair, hanging on for dear life when Billy did that thing with his tongue that made Steve see stars.

Too soon, way sooner than Steve would have liked, he reached his peak and came down Billy’s throat, remembering just in time to keep quiet. Knees threatening to buckle, he helped Billy up, and was still trying to get his breath back when he heard cries.

“Fuck!”

Billy chuckled. “Impeccable timing, your son.”

“Oh, now he’s my son, is he? I don’t remember doing a DNA test…”

“You can deny it all you want, baby, but he’s got your eyes, and your gorgeous hair.”

“Whatever,” Steve retorted with an eyeroll. “I’ll go get him.” He put his pants back on and gave Billy a quick kiss. “You better get back to your design, they’ll be back soon.”

Billy nodded and Steve headed down the hallway.

“Stevie?”

He stopped and turned to look at Billy, who was standing by the wall still, his curls a messy halo around his face, his shirt kind of askew, his jeans looking kind of tight in the front. “Yeah?”

“You owe me.”

Steve snorted. “I love you, too.”

***

Billy picked up his pencil and tried again. He could see the design in his head but, for once, didn’t seem to be able to get it onto the page. He knew moving to the iPad, like he usually did when working on a design for a client, would not help. Not for this particular one.

He heard Noah’s cries stop as Steve’s soothing voice carried from the nursery. His pretty boy seemed to be a natural at this being a parent thing, to the surprise of exactly no one. 

Some days, Billy still found it hard to believe that he was a dad. It wasn’t something he’d ever even remotely considered, too scared he would turn into his father. But Steve’s gentle loving, and a few years of therapy, had convinced him to give it a go. And now, he wouldn’t change it for anything. Steve and their kids were his whole world. 

The jingle of a key in the front door ten minutes later pulled him out of his creative bubble and he turned around to see some of his favorite people enter. Maisie ran at him with a happy screech and wrapped her arms around his neck when he picked her up. Robin and Heather followed at a slower pace, carrying a mountain of bags.

“I didn’t realize you ladies were buying everything at the store today,” Billy said with a smirk that earned him a sneaky middle finger behind his daughter’s back.

“Papa! Did you know, Auntie Hank said I should get Daddy ice cream from Scoops for his Christmas present and that’s just silly, because it would melt!”

Putting his five-year-old daughter down, Billy turned to his best friend. “How about we don’t bring up traumatizing memories for Christmas, Hank? Please?”

“Sorry, Billy,” Robin answered for Heather. She put down the half-dozen bags she was holding and collapsed into a chair. “We walked past the vendor with the samples and things were said. Now, where is my godson? I need cuddles.”

“You’ll have to wait, I’m afraid,” came Steve’s voice from the hallway. “Unless you want to help me with his bath.”

“Oooh, yes, I’m coming!” Robin left the room, Maisie hot on her heel.

Billy chuckled when he heard the little girl asking to jump in the bath with her brother and turned to Heather. “Hey, you.”

“Hey back. Did you get it done?” Heather walked over to the breakfast bar and sat on a stool, looking over the pieces of paper.

Sitting next to her, Billy let out a sigh before bumping shoulders with her. “Not gonna lie, Hank, I’m struggling.”

“Oh, come on, Blue. She’s your sister, surely you can come up with something.”

“That’s the thing though, it can’t be just anything. It needs to be special. And perfect.”

“It will be. Maybe you just need to freestyle it, like you did for us,” Heather said, her finger tracing the lines of the Hawkins Lifeguard tattoo they’d both got on their arm.

“Maybe.” Billy wondered if maybe she was right. 

“What time are they getting here?”

Billy checked his phone and found a text from Max letting him know they had just parked outside. “Right now, apparently. I’ll go see if they need help.”

Leaving Heather to unpack the bags, Billy grabbed his keys and headed out.

Excited voices welcomed him in the driveway.

“Uncle Billy! Uncle Billy!”

“Hi, guys!” He grinned as his nephews crowded him and they did their special hand shake. He had been told in no uncertain terms at their last birthday that seven years old was too old for cuddles.

“Uncle Billy! The plane was late because of the snow. We had to sit in our seats for aaaaages and Wyatt cried like a baby.”

“Did not.” Wyatt glared at his brother, fists at his sides.

“You so did. I saw you.”

“Arlo William Sinclair, what did I tell you about being an A-hole to your brother?” Max warned her son before stopping in front of Billy and dropping the bags she was carrying. “Hey, Billy.”

Billy wrapped his arms around his sister and pulled her close while Lucas called the boys back to the car to get their backpacks. Max held him tightly, her cheek pressed against his neck. Billy whispered, so the boys wouldn’t hear. “Good to see you, shitbird.” 

“It’s been too long. I can’t wait to finally meet that son of yours.”

“Well,” Billy started, letting go of her, “if you guys moved to Cali like I’d been telling you since the twins were born…”

“We’re trying, I promise. I need to finish this enormous project at work, we’re so close to being done, after three freaking years… then I’ll talk to my boss.”

“Okay. Noah is in the bath, which means your niece will be in there too. Stevie and Robin are supervising.”

Max groaned. “Oh, god. That means your bathroom will be flooded, I hope you know that. And there won’t be any hot water left for me to wash the plane off.”

“There’s cold beer in the fridge, and enough food to sink a small ship in the meantime.”

“Lead the way, Hargrove.” Max laughed when Billy pinned her with a glare.

He’d taken Steve’s last name when they’d got married, letting go of the last piece of his father that was still in his life, and Max knew it.

“Whatever, Maxine.” He picked up the bags she’d dropped at his feet and high-tailed it to the door before she would swat him on the arm.

Arlo and Wyatt followed him, saying “Maxiiiiiiiiiiine” louder and louder, to their mother’s annoyance.

***

Steve looked around the living room where most of the people he loved were gathered. They’d had a delicious, yet unconventional, Christmas Eve dinner, made up of various random dishes everyone had contributed to. Afterwards, they had opened presents and Max had absolutely loved the idea for their matching tattoo, like Steve had said all along.

Now, after Christmas mince tarts and ice cream, Heather and Robin were chatting animatedly with Max and Lucas on the sectional couch while Maisie, Arlo and Wyatt were lying on cushions in front of the tree, looking rather blissed out, and Billy…

Feeling someone next to him, Steve turned his face and found his husband, who was cradling their sleeping infant son against his chest.

“You okay, pretty boy?” Billy asked, his hand moving slowly up and down Noah’s back.

“Yeah, I was… I don’t know… looking at our family, thinking how happy I am that they’re all here, at our house.”

“We did good.”

“Yeah, babe, we sure did,” Steve replied, putting one arm around Billy’s waist and looking down at their son.

“Bet you didn’t think we’d be married with kids before your thirtieth birthday when you dragged me into the locker room all those years ago.”

Steve scoffed. “Excuse you, you’re the one who shoved me first. I merely… acted on impulse.”

“Right… so your immediate reaction when a guy pushes you is to shove your tongue down his throat? Is that what you’re saying? Did that happen a lot to you in high school, King Steve?”

Steve smiled.

“Only with you, baby.”

[runraerun]

Art by @racketti (his commissions are open!)

Easy as 123

**Updates every Monday going forward**

AO3 | Beta’d by: @dame-zoom-a-lot | Rating: E | Warnings: Referenced Child Abuse, minor character death, domestic violence flashbacks | Tags: Single!Dad Billy Hargrove, Billy & Max having a good relationship but they’re still siblings who fight like cats and dogs (he’s trying his best okay don’t call CPS on him just yet!), Famous Steve Harrington, Horn Dog Billy Hargrove, Plot with Porn, No Upside-Down AU.

Summary:

At first Billy had hated the stupid kids show, with its bright pastel palette and mind-numbing repetitive songs—how everyone is just so goddamn cheery all the time! But the more episodes he’s been forced to consume, the more get gets used to it. Hell, he’s even started looking forward to it.

The fact that the host, Mr. H, looks like sex on legs makes the whole thing a little more palatable. Billy could watch that dude file taxes and he’d still be entertained. But you can’t blame Billy—dude’s a total knock-out.

“I wish Mr. H was my daddy,” Max says wistfully from across the couch.

And shit, that makes two of ‘em.

Or, Billy’s living life as, essentially, a single dad to a six-year-old Max who’s obsessed with Mr. Roger’s style kids show that Steve hosts. So when the famous Mr. H comes to town for a Meet & Greet, Billy’s gotta take Maxine, right? For her sake. The fact that Billy’s got a total hard on for the guy’s got nothing to do with it.

Tag List: (message me to be added or removed from this list/if you want to only be alerted for Steddie works, or a Harringrove works, etc.)

@stervrucht @dame-zoom-a-lot @lawrencebshoggoth @themoonagainstmers @morallyundefined @thepossummoldypasta @wheneverfeasible @lifelessstar @sanctumdemunson @bookworm0690 @mamakitty187

[intothedysphoria]

Halloween 2024 is such a big deal for harringrove.

It’s basically their 40th anniversary (yes they got together the moment they met) so Steve is freaking out trying to budget a trip to the west coast. He’s baking batches of mini cupcakes and buying bottles of champagne and crying out of stress on the phone to Robin.

But really, at heart, Billy likes things low key and adores Halloween.

So they spend their fortieth anniversary curled up on the couch with their six cats, watching Poltergeist and handing out candy to anyone who knocks on their door. Billy’s won a best carved pumpkin competition and Steve’s still dressed like Tom Cruise. And they’re just happy.

It’s cheesy and painfully domestic, the flight ends up being cancelled because their cats miss them too much. And neither Billy or Steve would have it any other way.

[fizzigigsimmer]

For the WIPs game… can I ask you both To B with love (because I love it!!!) and the Dragon Shifter or it’s too much? 🥺

Of course! ❤️

So the quick summary of To B, With Love is: an A/B/O period romance. Steve a society omega, wants more than a loveless union and being a pretty trinket on an alpha's arm. He puts out an advertisement for a husband in the hopes of finding real companionship. Billy Hargrove, a cowboy from California answers his add. He seems perfect - but there's one big problem. Billy isn't the one who Steve has been writing to. It's Max, Billy's ten year old ward who believes firmly that a miserable alpha must be in want of a mate. 😉

And Because I know most of y'all know all that already, here's a sneak peek at an upcoming chapter:

“It all has to go back!”  “Billy!” Steve grabbed at Billy’s arm, attempting to stop him as he lunged for the table. Steve had no idea what the alpha intended to do, just that whatever it was it would be bad. The alpha’s scent was roiling and dark, so brittle and bitter that it stung at Steve’s nose. Billy was dangerously close to rut. It made his skin cold, fear twisting his stomach. But it wasn’t fear for himself, odd as that was. In that split moment between observation and action, Steve’s only thought was to prevent Billy from hurting himself.  Steve would think any omega very foolish indeed not considering their own welfare in the face of an incensed alpha sliding into rut – if it were anyone but Billy. Because he'd seen for himself how hard Billy tried not to hurt him, even when all the world said he had a right to.   Despite Steve, the alpha grabbed ahold of the lace table covering – possessed of a strength Steve would have admired if it wasn’t currently being used to drag their supper along with the table settings across the wood.   “Stop! Billy stop!” Alarmed as the candles toppled from their candle holders, Steve yanked at Billy with renewed urgency, finally succeeding in pulling the alpha back slightly and beginning to wedge himself between Billy and the table. Billy’s scent flared sharp and hot with fury but the alpha shoved himself back with a snarl rather than risk injuring Steve in his attempt to rip everything off the table.  “Move Omega!” he growled, the order slamming into Steve so hard it made his teeth ache.  He might have buckled to such a strong command if not for the fact that he’d held a crying child all night whose only crime was loving this bullish arrogant knothead, and if he himself weren’t dangerously close to doing the same. And that – well that made Steve rather furious actually.  “I will not!” Steve hissed through clenched teeth. And he did not budge an inch.  

For those who might want to read the fic.

[bigdumbbambieyes]

Steve comes home tired from work, barely able to muster up even a smile for Billy as he shuts the front door behind him, leaning against it with all his weight as he toes off his shoes and Billy smirks at him from where he’s standing in the kitchen, preparing dinner.

“Long day, peanut?” He asks as he sets down his knife, leaving the chopped carrot where it lays on the cutting board in favour of wiping his hands and going over to Steve.

Who, as he sets down his tote bag and backpack, pulls a little pout and whines as he stumbles over to Billy, reaching his arms out for a much-needed hug.

Billy meets him there, in front of the fridge with their grocery list and vacation pictures stuck to it with magnets, and wraps his arms around his boyfriend with a soft smile, feeling Steve bury his face into his neck, hiding away.

He thumbs over the fabric of Steve’s shirt as he rests one hand on his pretty boy’s upper back and the other down at his lower back, feeling the weight of Steve’s arms around his shoulders and the rest of him as the brunet leans against him.

“‘m tired,” Steve mumbles, his breath warm on Billy’s skin.

“You should lay down on the couch for a bit,” he mumbles in return, sliding his hand down a little lower so he can squeeze Steve’s ass, unable to help himself.

And Steve really must be tired because he doesn’t tell Billy to stop, doesn’t push his hand away with a playful look, he just lets him do whatever he wants as he begins to complain and vent about his day.

“I hate this company,” Billy lowers his other hand, gives him another squeeze with both, “Wanna quit so bad but the job market is fucking stupid,” Billy gives his ass a couple little pats back to back, “HR is so fucking clueless and toxic, I don’t know how the manager’s still here,” Billy squeezes again, a little longer, “Maybe I should just work in food service again, for a bit…”

Billy frowns, “You hated that, too.”

“Yeah, but at least I got to leave work at work and come home to you without anything nagging in the back of my mind.”

“Aww,” Billy grins, pulling Steve’s shirt from where it’s tucked into his pants, just so he can slide his hands up the back of it and touch, “You just wanna come home and think about me and nothing else?

Steve kisses his neck and nods, “Even though you’re a pain in my ass — which you’ve been playing with this entire time.”

“You didn’t tell me to stop, so,” Billy hums, turning his head to kiss Steve’s cheekbone and whispering into his ear playfully, “Sorry your life sucks and you hate your job.”

Steve snorts a soft laugh at that and pulls away just enough to look into Billy’s eyes, his expression already softened and warm just from a few minutes of cuddling in their kitchen, his shoulders relaxed from where they’d been up by his ears, “How was class?” He asks softly, gently bumping their noses together.

Billy returns the gentle nuzzle, staring into those chocolate buttons Steve calls his eyes as he recalls his day on campus, “S’fine,” he mutters, “Classes are just starting so it was mostly syllabus stuff, easy shit.”

“Mm, lucky you,” Steve smirks, eyeing Billy’s lips, his want obvious.

“Yeah, lucky me,” Billy returns the smirk, watching Steve because he loves to and can.

A long beat of silence passes, the two of them wrapped up in one another, until Steve mutters, “Fucking kiss me already…”

“So demanding,” Billy chastises playfully as he closes the distance between them, pressing his mouth to Steve’s for a long kiss, giving him a few more in quick succession before pulling away and pulling his hands from Steve’s shirt and patting his ass again, “Go lay down, I’ll join you once the soup’s going.”

“Okay,” Steve murmurs happily, giving Billy another kiss before untangling himself from his boyfriend and going to do as he says.

When Billy follows him not five minutes later, he finds Steve sleeping.

He lets his pretty boy rest.

[gigacat]

Domestic harringrove this, cozy boys that

If Billy and/or Steve doesn't stand there while the other is cooking in the kitchen, air punching the other's buttcheeks while making their own impact noises for each non-existent punch, what's the point?

[ourdreamsareneon]

fuck domestic harringrove, I want steve and billy doing lines of molly in some run down club in california and dancing to techno (which billy says he doesn't like but he's lying)