#harringroveweek 2022

[ferra-to-my-faberge]

art from last harringrove week :)

[dragonflylady77]

I posted 6,107 times in 2022

*whispers* I've been here since July...

That's 6,100 more posts than 2021!

291 posts created (5%)

5,816 posts reblogged (95%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@ariesbilly

@memes-saved-me

@prettyboybillyhargrove

@emeraldwitches

@billys-bitchh

I tagged 2,422 of my posts in 2022

#harringrove - 1,126 posts

#billy hargrove - 1,015 posts

#steve harrington - 591 posts

#billy x steve - 402 posts

#dacre montgomery - 206 posts

#stranger things - 131 posts

#billy deserved better - 130 posts

#always reblog awesome harringrove art❤️ - 97 posts

#how is this man real - 67 posts

#harringroveweek - 57 posts

Longest Tag: 140 characters

#so steve volunteers to help look for the mom too and it’s the three of them walking around this store and steve’s seeing this whole new side

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Neil gets what’s coming to him / dies a gruesome death fics - (a non-exhaustive list)

*disclaimer: I have read some of them, but not all of them so don't come at me. If you want me to add any to this list, send me an ask or a DM

Updated 8 Dec 2022

In no particular order:

ain't no rest for the wicked by desperat

Burying Monsters by Sir_Howdy

you can't cheat death when you're digging your own grave by @grabmyboner

cut the shit (handle it) by @holl0w-city

Seven Foot Wave, Six Feet Under (steddilly) by @writer-in-theory

The following by @bentnotbroken1fanfiction

Steve Goes To Jail AU

Max can't take it anymore

When Push Comes To Shove

The following by @lucdarling

stings like she means it (fear street crossover feat dead!neil)

kinktober 2020, chapter 19, poison (crime fam au)

Rumor Has It

Serious (as a heart attack)

Forged in Blood

the following fics by @dastardlydandelion

praefoco

tot acerba funera or, the ABCs of Neil Hargrove's death

edited + expanded supplicium (prompted by @keziahrain)

periculum in mora

dolor sicut ratio (the axe fics before axecution)

blasphemia(caos crossover, feat smooches with lilith)

axecution series

micis

nex

the gay garbage disposal au

See the full post

165 notes - Posted August 24, 2022

#4

Found this on insta

**DISCLAIMER** I DO NOT KNOW WHEN THAT PHOTO WAS TAKEN

205 notes - Posted August 13, 2022

#3

Ficlet: Steve can't take it anymore

It's also on Ao3. Chapter 2 here

"I've been waiting to meet this King Steve everyone has been telling me so much about."

There's blood on Billy's lip and Steve wants to wipe it off with his thumb.

"Get out" He presses two fingers onto Billy's chest and gives a little shove. The skin is soft. And warm. So warm even though it's October and Billy's shirt is unbuttoned.

Billy stares, his tongue coming out to wipe his bottom lip, murder in his eyes.

Steve can't take it anymore. If the guy is gonna kill him, might as well give him a reason to. So Steve gives into the urge he's been fighting since he saw Billy in the carpark on that first day of school.

Before he can second guess himself, he grabs both sides of the collar of Billy's shirt, pulls him close and plants his lips on the other guy's mouth. He doesn't linger but it's enough to discover Billy's lips are soft, and warm, and Steve wishes things were different, wishes he could kiss Billy all the time, instead of fighting monsters from the Upside Down and babysitting a bunch of thirteen year olds.

He lets go and takes a step back, his eyes on Billy, his chest heaving. He can hear Dustin screaming something at him, and he's vaguely aware of Max saying something as well, but his entire focus is on Billy, and on readying himself for the inevitable beat down coming to him.

"What the fuck was that, Harrington?" Billy growls, his eyes searching Steve's face.

Steve doesn't answer because what could he say after doing that, but he does, for once, remember to plant his feet, bracing himself.

When Billy rushes him, he's ready. But what he's not ready for is Billy grabbing his jacket with both hands and shoving him backwards, his feet scrambling for purchase on Mrs Byers' shitty wooden floor, until his back is against the door.

Billy is so close that Steve can feel his body heat, Billy's fingers scrunching Steve's jacket, Billy's blue eyes almost black.

Steve takes in a shuddery breath, fighting against the need to bring his hands up to protect his face from Billy's fists. The kids keep screaming but the fists never come.

Instead, Billy slides his hands up and around Steve's neck and pulls his head down. Their lips meet again for a feverish kiss and the second he feels Billy's tongue, Steve opens his mouth with a relieved moan, as his hands grasp Billy's shirt again.

That's when Steve stops caring about the screams around him, and the impending apocalypse. How can he when the boy he's been crushing on for months is pressing his hard body against Steve, kissing the daylights out of him?

Billy’s trapping him against the door with his body, deepening the kiss, hands pulling Steve’s face closer. Steve knows they need to stop, need to talk, but he's wanted this for too long.

The screams around them eventually pierce the fog and the kiss ends. But Billy doesn't move away, he pulls back just enough so they can look at each other, his hands still cupping Steve’s face, both of them panting and trying to catch a breath.

“Been wanting to do this for a while, pretty boy?” Billy asks, his voice low and raspy, making Steve shudder. 

“You have no idea,” Steve whispers back, feeling the loss of heat when Billy’s hands drop from his face.

“You’d be surprised.” The reply comes with a throaty laugh that’s cut short when Billy glances to the side and Steve sees Billy’s jaw tighten, steel in his eyes. 

Steve turns his head to find Dustin and the other boys staring at them with their mouths open. Max is standing off to the side with an eyebrow raised and Steve has the fleeing thought that she looks just like her stepbrother in that instant. 

It’s the first time he’s ever seen Dustin speechless and he’d laugh if he didn’t suddenly remember the shit they’re up against and the urgency of it all. 

“Billy?”

And like that, the blue eyes he could lose himself in are back on him, with such focus Steve is finding it hard to breathe. Still, he gets the words out.

“So there’s some super serious shit going on that I don’t have time to explain right now, and I promise I will, but in the meantime, do you want to help smash monsters and save the world?”

225 notes - Posted October 15, 2022

#2

Me: kinda wants to get the ST tarot deck that comes out next week

Also me: knows it's probably either not have Billy in it or it will be a shit card

371 notes - Posted August 9, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

What if the Harringtons show up one day and Billy is in the kitchen in just sweatpants and making coffee and they have no idea who Billy is because they've been away so long and they're all, excuse me, who are you and why are you in our house, you need to leave this instant before I call the police. And Steve comes down the stairs, wrapped in a sheet, hickeys all over, and he's like, can you not call the cops on my husband thank you.

713 notes - Posted November 24, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[hoegrove]

#HarringroveWeek Day 3

[theladycarpathia]

“Fucking no, Steve!” Billy shouts. Steve sticks his head out of the bathroom, hair slick with shampoo. The sound of running water thunders behind him, and normally Billy would complain about the rising steam billowing out into the hallway. 

“I got costumes?” he says, flicking water out of his eyes. “For a costume party?”

“Couples costumes,” Billy hisses, shaking the bag at him. Steve blinks, and it’s a testament to how annoyed he is that he’s not distracted by a wet, naked Steve.

“Yeah?” Steve says in bemusement. 

“Gay cowboys, Steve?” Billy hisses. “Isn’t that a little too on the nose?” Because there’s no way that people will see them and not think ‘Brokeback Mountain.’ But Steve just shrugs and vanishes back into the bathroom.

“They didn’t have anything else!” Steve hollers to be heard over the gushing water. “Not unless you wanted to be a slutty nurse.”

“The slutty cowboy is better?” Billy mumbles skeptically, because he’d definitely turn up in a slutty nurse uniform rather than this. His legs would look good in the skirt. 

“Robin will tell you off if you don’t have a costume,” Steve points out. Billy scowls.

“What is she going to do, force me into…” and then stops as he realizes. There’s a squeak of the tap as Steve turns off the water.

“Oh good, it’s only taken you five years to understand how my best friend works,” Steve says dryly, emerging from the bathroom with a towel slung around his hips, and rubbing another one through his hair. “She absolutely keeps costumes on standby. So it’s this or whatever hideous monstrosity that Robin has as backup.”

“I hate you,” Billy says flatly. Steve smirks and drops the towel, heading into their bedroom with a swing of his hips.

“No, you don’t!” he calls behind him.

“I will if I have to fucking wear this,” Billy says. He trails pathetically back into the bedroom after Steve and doesn’t try to hide his gaze when Steve bends over to search in his underwear drawer.

“Look, if you put it on, I’ll definitely take it off you at the end of the night,” Steve says, his voice dropping down low. He steps into his boxers and pulls them up, the fabric clinging against the plump curve of his ass. It’s a good move and Billy wonders when he’s not going to be so weak for this man.

“How about that exact offer but in the downstairs bathroom at Robin’s?” Billy suggests, because he knows how to bargain and isn’t going to buckle at the first offer. The end of the night is many, many hours away when he and Steve will be extremely drunk and too tired to work the belts on their jeans. But the idea of Steve on his knees at the party, cowboy hat tipped off his head as he sucks…that’s something he can work with.

Steve rolls his eyes and crosses the room to Billy, slinging his arms around Billy’s neck.

“You can’t fuck me in the bathroom,” he says, his skin still flushed and damp from the shower. Billy wraps an arm around his narrow waist.

“That’s okay,” he says smugly. “That’s not what we’ll be doing.” He licks a long stripe up Steve’s cheek, keeping his hands in place when Steve tries to wriggle away.

“Gross,” Steve complains, moving a hand to rub at his wet face. “I hope that tastes like soap.”

It had. Billy ignores it.

He kisses Steve, soft and sweet, smoothing back the stray hair that always curls by Steve’s ear. It turns into a kiss not so sweet, and Billy may get some ass before they even get into those stupid outfits.

“Hey, Stevie,” Billy mumbles against Steve’s mouth, carefully steering him backwards. “Do I have to wear…”

“You have to wear the boots,” Steve says, a smirk in his voice, and Billy pulls them down onto the bed.

[harringrovedaily]

Anon if you post something late on tumblr and want to include it in the harringroveweek stuff just tag it or message me and I’ll reblog it here so others can find it in the harringroveweek tag. Hope that helps. :)

hello!! firstly wahh thank you so much for organizing harringrove week(s)!! 💖💖💖 secondly, is it okay to post a day or two late for the current event??

Hi! Aww thank you!!

I will not be reblogging or adding any new work to the masterpost after the deadline.

But you can add your work to the AO3 collection a few days after the deadline.

[doodles-dearest]

wrote this yesterday, might as well make it for @harringroveweek because. spooky gays. (may i say not proofread we die like billy? or is it still too soon)

"Heya, pretty boy."

Steve's toothbrush immediately fell out of his mouth as his jaw dropped in shock.

"Been a while, hasn't it?" the sultry voice whispered. Steve could feel how close he was.

He tried to confidently retort with a witty reply, but all he could muster was a nervous whimper as he stared in the mirror at those ice blue eyes, the same eyes he never thought he'd see again, let alone in his bathroom mirror, right over his shoulder.

It had been two months since Starcourt. Two months since the Russians, since The Mind Flayer, Scoops, Hopper, the fire- two months since Billy died. Yet here was that golden haired idiot standing behind him in the bathroom, and Steve had no damn clue what to do.

"Hallucination." he stutters, not meaning to speak aloud. He flinches slightly as he hears the sharp laugh he missed so dearly ring through his head.

"I should've known you'd think that Steve. I'm as real as can be, I'm afraid. Now, why don't you stop hanging your mouth open like that and look at me properly, hm?" Billy smirked.

"I-"

"Not just in the mirror. Look at me. It's not that hard."

Steve complied, slowly turning his head to look at the other boy.

"Heya." Billy's smirk turned into a soft smile.

Steve felt a little grin tug at his own lips too. "Hi."

[shieldofiron]

La Ladra

Prompt #6: Full Candy Bar

[Did you miss part 5? It’s Here]

[Link to all of the previous parts on Tumblr Here and AO3 Here ]

   The rain is punishingly hard as Steve ducks inside the coffee shop, trying to shake out his umbrella without making a whole mess of Billy’s floors. The music is blaring, that heavy metal garbage that Billy cranks in his car, guitars fighting against each other like two wet cats in a bag.

    Eddie waves from behind the counter, his curls piled up on top of his head in a messy approximation of the artful way that Heather’s are arranged, which is more like a renaissance painting.

    “Hey,” Steve exhales, “Is Billy around?”

    “You gonna ask if he can come out and play?” Heather says in a monotone.

    “Yeah,” Steve grins wide, “Is he here?”

    Heather’s gum snaps, “Might be. You gonna order something?”

    Steve glances around the nearly empty shop. There’s only one person here, a redhead with headphones over their ears, hunched over a notebook.

    Steve shrugs, “Tea. It’s too late for coffee.”

    Heather rolls her eyes, “What kind of tea?”

    “Black,” Steve leans against the counter, “Didn’t expect you all to be here.”

    Eddie smiles, “Getting ready for tomorrow. We’re decorating.”

    Steve eyes the chalkboards, already covered with cartoon skeletons, “You seem pretty decorated to me.”

    Eddie leans on the counter, “Billy he has a thing about not really decorating before Max is here.”

    “Max. As in, the Maxine?” Steve smooths his tie down. It wasn’t as though they had been dating all that long, only about two weeks. But it seemed like something that Billy might have mentioned, considering how important Max was.

    “Yeah?” The redhead is turned around in her seat, looking at Steve expectantly.

    “You’re… Max,” Steve isn’t sure if he means it as a question or a statement.

    “Yeah,” She spits out, a little vicious. Steve knows they’re not related, not really. Their faces are very different, but there’s something similar about the eyes, the way they hold their mouths, tense at the corners, always ready to bite or bark.

    “S-sorry, I’m just friends with Billy,” Steve shakes his head, “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

    Her hand flexes on the back of the chair, but otherwise she has no reaction.

    Steve’s breath fixes in his lungs, “He around?”

    She blinks, “He’s picking up the boxes. He’ll be back soon.” And then she turns back to her notebook without comment.

    Steve slides a little closer to her table, unable to help himself. He feels like he’s trying to impress Billy’s mom or something.

    “What are you doing?” He asks quietly.

    She lifts one flimsy walkman headphone off her ear and rancid grunge pours out, “What?”

    “I asked what you’re doing,” He repeats, feeling foolish. His hand goes to smooth his tie, a nervous habit from meetings that aren’t going well that he can’t seem to shake.

    “Assignment,” She plays with a pencil, “For school.”

    “You’re still in high school?”

    She looks at him like he’s fallen into a vat of sewage, “Grad school. He didn’t tell you that much about me, huh?”

    Steve just sucks in a breath and gives her his most charming smile, the King Steve special, “Not that. He talks more about what you’re like. Not what you do...”

    It is true. Billy isn’t consciously doing it. It’s just little things. Max likes red vines over twizzlers, because she has no taste. Max still has the high score in that game back in San Clemente. Max would kill Steve for sitting in ‘her seat’ in Billy’s car. Max’s girlfriend Jane looks like that girl with the brown hair, and Billy thought it was her, isn’t that funny. Max can skateboard better than, play better than, and spit better than just about everyone. Or so he hears.

    Max just looks Steve up and down, smirking, “You know he’s dating someone. So you can lay off the whole… thing you’re doing. I can’t help you.”

    Steve’s stomach sinks, “He is?”

    He glances back at Eddie, but he’s in the back, and Heather still has her back turned, reading a magazine while the tea steeps. Did they all know?

    “Yeah,” Max toys with the pencil in her hands, “Some guy named Steve. And it’s pretty serious so… sorry.”

    “I’m Steve,” It slips out before what she said fully sinks into his brain. Oh. He talks about me too, Steve thinks, the thought like a warm blanket.

    “Oh.” She looks him up and down, “Then I can’t help you with that either.”

    Steve fights every urge he has to fidget, or shy away. She looks at him, still a little unnervingly, but different from before.  Her eyes are bouncing from his hair (a little too long right now, but Billy said something about how it might look nice longer, and maybe he wants to look nice), to his suit (Armani, tailored to within an inch of its life), to the tie (vintage silk, something Robin dug up at Goodwill but that seems to go with everything and so he ends up wearing it nearly every day.)

    The back door slams open, loud enough to be heard over the music even.

    “I swear to God, that rain could fucking bruise,” Billy’s voice crackles like a bonfire, “Eds, will you help get-”

    Billy’s drenched, curls sticking to his face, looking at Steve and Max like he’s seen a ghost.

    “Hey,” Steve raises his hand a little.

    “What are you doing here?” Billy gasps at him.

    Steve stuffs that rejected feeling down to the bottom of his heart, “Just… getting some tea.”

    “Oh,” Billy’s lower lip trembles, “Uh… Max… Max, this is Steve.”

    “Nice to meet you, Steve,” Max gives him a smile, but there’s no gloss on it like Billy’s. It’s just quick, a flash of something snarky.

    “Max,” Steve nods like he doesn’t know who that is, “Oh. Maxine. Your sister, right. Nice to meet you.”

    Max frowns, “Max. Please.”

    Steve has to hold on with all of his willpower not to make a snarky comment back.

    He turns back to Billy, instead, “What do you have there?”

    Billy shifts the large box slightly in his hands, “Some extra Halloween shit.”

    Don’t say it, Steve, he tells himself, this is their thing. For once in your life, don’t be clingy, don’t be needy, be cool, and maybe you’ll make it out of this with just a little bit of dignity.

    “Want me to stay and help put them up?” Steve says. Because of course he does.

    Billy’s mouth opens a little, “Uh… yeah. Don’t you have work?”

    Steve shrugs, “I’ll say it’s Summer Fridays, and I just felt like leaving early.”

    “It’s October,” Heather leans against the counter, looking at him with her special blend of derision and amusement.

    Steve shrugs, putting a hand in his pocket, “Summer. October. They rhyme. Close enough.”

    Heather just raises one brow coolly.

    “Where do you work, Steve?” Max cocks her head to the side.

    “Up the street,” He sidesteps, literally, and walks over to Billy, taking the cardboard boxes out of his hands, “This okay?”

    “Yeah,” Billy’s eyes flicker across his face, “You sure?”

    “Of course,” Steve smiles, “I can hang up spider webs with the-”

    He looks down into the box.There, next to several boxes of full size candy bars is a woman’s severed head, glistening with rain, brown hair carefully braided as if to keep it out of the way of whatever hacked her head off so roughly. The candy only makes it seem more surreal, like they’ve been placed there to show the head to scale.

    “Jesus,” He drops the box, “Holy fucking shit. Holy fucking shit.”

    Max starts laughing, hard.

    “Billy!” Eddie comes behind the counter and smacks Billy’s arm, “Warn him next time.”

    Steve’s heart is still racing. He flops against the counter, loosening his tie with trembling hands.

    Eddie leans down and picks up the severed head by the braid, “It’s only rubber, Steve.”

    Billy is trying not to laugh, but he is failing, “Sorry. Sorry. I swear… I’m… so fucking sorry.”

    Steve covers his eyes with his hands.

    “Sorry, Steve,” Eddie’s says, “I used to paint props for a haunted house, and when they changed the theme from haunted hospital to haunted high school, I gave Billy some of the old shit, since he loves Halloween so much. You wanna Crunch bar?”

    Steve just makes a strangled noise of embarrassment behind his hands.

    “Sorry, I was just so surprised to see you, I didn’t think you’d take the box,” Billy’s voice is strangled.

    “Just laugh,” Steve talks into his hands, “I’m kind of a… wuss with scary stuff.”

    Max doesn’t hold back, but Heather snaps at her at least, “It’s not that fucking funny.”

    Billy takes Steve’s forearms and pulls his hands back from his face, “Pumpkin. Oh.”

    Steve is beet red, but he feels a little less embarrassed when Billy slides both hands down to take his.

    “Sorry,” Steve mutters, “I just was expecting something more like some little plastic spiders.

    Billy tugs his hands just a little, “Sorry, baby.”

    “‘S fine. I’m ready for it now,” Steve still shakes his head no, “It’s better when I’m prepared."

    Eddie tosses the head in the air once then holds it out, “Would it help to see it up close?”

    Steve blinks, and then drops one of Billy’s hands and takes it, just to convince himself he can. Up close, it is a lot clearer that it’s rubber. The rain had made the fake blood seem a lot more real.

    He exhales, “Sorry. I just… sorry…”

    “It’s fine,” Max smiles, “Like you a lot better now.”

    “Is that right?” Billy’s upper lip twitches.

    “Yeah,” Max grins, “Especially now that I know we can scare you. I’ll have to call Jane for ideas.”

    “No scaring Steve,” Billy says, though his eyes looked just a little too interested in that idea for Steve’s comfort.

    “Do you watch horror movies?” Eddie asks.

    “I can watch them if I don’t, like psych myself up too much,” Steve shrugs, finally yanking off his tie and laying it on the counter, “But I don’t like it.”

    “Mmm,” Max frowns, “Like you less now.”

    “Scale of one to ten?” Billy asks her, playing with Steve’s fingers just a little.

    “Six,” She says confidently.

    Billy whistles, taking the rubber head and spinning it on his hand like a basketball for a moment before catching it, “That’s very high for Max. Even her girlfriend is usually an eight.”

    Steve furrows his brow at Max and she answers with a shrug, “She lets people push her around. Very not cool. But she can get up to eleven.”

    Heather raises a brow, “Why not twelve?”

    Max gives her a dead eyed scare, “Nobody is a twelve. Not possible.”

    Steve is about to say something very sappy about Billy, but he imagines that this is not the moment.

    “So why is Halloween so special?” Steve asks, now that he can finally breathe, “Or do you do this for all the holidays?”

    “Oh god,” Eddie closes his eyes and squirms with happiness, “I love this story.”

    Billy and Max look at each other and she gets a goofy sort of grin, kind of sarcastic but kind of soft.

    “Maxine fucking loves horror movies, used to watch them when she was way too young. Stephen King fan number one with a bullet, over here,” Billy laughs under his breath, “So once, like a million years ago-”

    “When our parents first got married, I hardly knew him,” She furrows her brow a little, like she might squint at him and see a younger Billy there in the shop.

    “I got it in my head that I could really scare her. I didn’t know, you know,” He grins at her, eyes dancing, “That she was such a freak.”

    “You’re the freak, tell him what you did,” She nudges Billy’s shoulder.

    “I got all of this fake blood, and I got in the shower and poured it all over myself,” He rubs his chin, “Like Carrie White.”

    “Like Carrie White getting her period,” Max laughs.

    “And I, like, laid there on the bathroom floor waiting for her to come in,” Billy rubs a hand over his eyes, “Anyway, she comes in and starts laughing.”

    “It was so fake,” Max’s chin juts forward, “He didn’t even hold his breath.”

    “I was fifteen, okay,” He frowns, rubbing a hand across the damp material of his henley shirt.

    “It was the worst prank I had ever seen in my life,” She declares.

    “So I’m lying there, covered in fake blood, which I had to clean up later, by the way, and I have this sister, laughing her head off that I might be dead,” Billy shakes his head, “I was so mad. I was pissed.”

    “And he totally breaks, and stands up yelling about ‘what if it was real,’” She rolls her eyes, “Like a maniac. He looked so angry, and so…” She breaks off laughing.

    “And…” Billy looks at Max, helpless.

    “I hugged him, blood and all,” She turns to Steve, “It was so funny. It was better than Christmas.”

    “Always is,” Billy smiles.

    “Well, if the prank is as lame as that,” Steve shrugs, grinning cheekily, “I think even I would be completely fine.”

    Billy lets go of his hand and swats Steve’s arm, “Fucking rudest boyfriend ever.”

    Heather and Eddie laugh, and even Max looks amused, but Billy’s doing that wide eyed, nervous expression. The same one he had when Steve brought him a new pack of his favorite cigarettes and cleaned his jacket when he left it at Steve’s by accident.

    “Yeah,” Steve grins at him, “I am. But I’m yours.”

    Billy’s eyelashes flutter.

    “Fucking gross,” Heather cracks her gum like lighting, “Keep that lovey-dovey shit at home, will you?”

    Billy grins at her wickedly, “Heather’s just mad because she hasn’t gotten laid in, what? A year?”

    “I was getting over Madeline,” Heather’s face has a flash of vulnerability, and then it goes hard again, her mouth a straight, angry line.

    Max’s red brows dance a little, “Madeline was more than a year ago.”

    “You only dated a week,” Eddie frowns.

    “It was an intense week, okay,” Heather frowns, “You wouldn’t understand.”

    Eddie’s eyes glitter, “I’ve been having an intense couple of weeks myself.”

    Heather gags, pointing a perfectly painted black fingernail at her tongue, “See this is the shit I was talking about.”

    “Hey,” Billy says quietly, while Eddie starts to lean over the counter, trying to get Heather to kiss the head while she shoves at him.

    “Hey,” Steve says.

    Billy’s watchful, his face sort of solemn, “I…”

Steve runs his thumb across Billy’s palm in circles.

    “I’m glad you said it first,” Steve whispers, “This takes the pressure off of me.”

    Billy barks out a laugh, “Is that right?”

    “Yeah,” Steve shakes his head a little, “I always say it first.”

    Billy licks the corner of his mouth, whispering deadly quiet, “Well… gotcha.”

    Steve takes their joined hands and tucks them both behind his back, so Billy’s holding him, “I’m recovering from a terrible shock. Pick me out a candy bar, ragazzo.”

    “What’s that mean?” Billy knows what it means.

    “Boyfriend,” Steve raises one brow at him, daring.

    “I bet you had a full size candy bar house,” Billy says softly, his eyes lingering on the shoulders of Steve’s suit, “Boyfriend.”

    “Oh,” Steve smiles, “You gotta go for the full size. All the way or not at all, that’s what I always say.”

[Part 7 is coming tomorrow- It’s a Rocky Horror Chapter I couldn’t resist]

[pr3ttym3ssy]

Steve use to tolerate the Summer season. It was never his favorite season persay, because he favors the cold weather. He layers on the clothing and he gets to wear his beloved coats and scarfs. More so when he has Billy to keep him warm and toasty under the covers. The boy runs hot like a damn furnace.

But ever since he started dating the California native, Summers are a whole different playing field. Theirs something mesmerizing about Billy in a white tank, and his ass in short shorts. How his long legs shine from the fuzz there catching the sun. He's like a fucking Adonis, radiating the sun rays like a god damn halo. Steve is not one to show alot of skin, he hardly takes of his shirt even if it's too hot.

Not because he's self conscious, he knows what he looks like. He's just not use to it. But Billy, he could give two shits and he will easily remove his tank top and waltz around like Gods gift to man. Honestly who can blame him. Steve loves him all the more for it.

There's something special about being fucked into the mattress on days where it's well past 90 degrees and his room feels like a sauna. Billy's weight on him as he fucks him nice and slow. The window slightly a jar. He can feel the breeze on his face and how Billy must feel it too. The skin on his back prickles from it. Steve digs his nails on his soft tanned skin.

They're both sweaty from the heat and the sex alone, and Steve feels like it's so stuffy he can barely breath. But the oxygen deprivation is worth it and he could careless so long as Billy keeps this delicious pace, hitting his favorite spot. Over and over and over again.

Kissing and licking his salty skin. Running his hands through those sun kissed curls. It's fucking heaven. He will happily die from heatstroke, because Billy is the sun. Their is no denying it, Steve loves the Summer season all thanks to Billy.

[queer-coded-camaro-driver]

The Boys of Summer

Please check out my submission for the July Harringrove Week! 

Summary: “Billy, not so fast!” Steve called out. His boyfriend stopped and turned back to face him, sheepishly ducking his head. The senior counselor laughed, pressing a kiss to Billy’s temple once he was close enough. “Where are we going?”

“So you know how I got here a few days before everyone else to clean out the boathouse and repaint the lifeguard station?”

“Yeeeeah...” Steve raised an eyebrow as his voice trailed off. Billy twined their fingers together and led Steve off the path, between the reaching branches of the trees.

[andre-worlds]

Big Baddie: Ghostface | Day 27 for Harringrove Week

[alaskan-outsider]

This is my playlist for #HarringroveWeek! It’s got like 1 song that’s actually from the 80s but my goal was more to pick songs that made me think of Harringrove instead of songs from the 80s. So it’s got a lot of sad Indie songs that I feel like Steve would pick for Billy.

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2BOePuI5NK6ZGmNjYTEXkS?si=_s9TDyvRRaeSKAa_cOQKPg

[hoegrove]

insp. #HarringroveWeek Day 2

[theladycarpathia]

Harringrove week day 1: Right where you left me

Steve doesn’t bother looking up when the door to the classroom opens. He knows who it is.

“Didn’t expect you to be at prom,” he says, staring up at the ceiling. He’s lying flat on his back on one of the tables, not caring if it creases his suit or not. He’s already taken off his jacket and slung it over the back of the chair. His parents aren’t around to take pictures, or to straighten his tie, or even notice when he stumbles in the door at 2 am.

Hell, they didn’t even do any of that at his own prom.

“Wouldn’t expect it to be your scene either,” Billy Hargrove says, closing the door behind him and shutting them in darkness once again. Steve hadn’t bothered with any of the lights, figuring that someone is less likely to find him and turf him out that way. He’s definitely not meant to be in here.

“Came as Robin’s date,” Steve explains, because there’s no fucking way he’d do this for anyone else. He left high school and going back after the fact is just pathetic. “And she’s busy.”

With her tongue down Vickie’s throat in the back of the auditorium, which was the whole point. Steve was only ever a distraction, just enough that when Robin vanished halfway in, no one would really question it. Judging by the flasks hidden in suit pockets and tiny clutches, no one is going to notice much of anything.

“You could go home,” Billy suggests, not without reason. Vickie could give Robin a ride, or Nancy and Jonathan at a push. Steve doesn’t need to be here. But he doesn’t want to go home to an empty house either. Where he can sit in the dark with a bottle of his father’s scotch and think about all the things he was meant to have. The things he wants. The life he’s never going to get.

“Nah,” Steve says, watching the dark mass that is Billy wind his way through the tables. He’d spotted Billy a few times in the milling crowds: at the punch bowl, dancing with Heather. Steve had had to take a breath and turn his head away. No good can come from going down that rabbit hole. “Got nothing better to do.” Billy snorts and hauls himself up onto the table next to Steve’s.

“King Steve not got a date for Saturday night?”  he asks, but any of the bite that would have been there a year ago is missing. Without Neil, Billy just doesn’t have any of the same edges.

“I did,” Steve says to the ceiling. Even in the dark, he can’t bring himself to look at Billy. “She’s busy.”

“I don’t mean little miss band geek,” Billy says wearily, swinging his legs over the edge of the table. He lies back, taking up a similar position to Steve. Steve momentarily wishes that the tables were closer, that he might be able to feel some of the warmth from Billy’s body. “Someone you actually like.”

Steve inhales, and stops short when he doesn’t find the right words.

“I don’t have anyone I like,” he lies. Because he had liked some of them - statistically, after dating every available girl in Hawkins, he was bound to like some of them. The problem was that it wasn’t enough.

“Maybe you’ve dated every eligible girl in town,” Billy smirks, echoing Steve’s line of thought. “You’ll have to start all over again.”

Steve makes a face. Once you’ve been on three dates, had sex and then never called her again, he’s not likely to get a second chance.

“What about you and Heather?” Steve asks, because he has to know. “Big romance there or is it a summer fling until she heads off to college?”

“We’re not dating,” Billy says shortly. Something eases in Steve’s chest.

“She got dumped a few weeks before prom. There wasn’t anyone else available and I didn’t have a date.” A car drives past the window, headlights briefly lighting up the room. Steve can see the line of Billy’s jaw, the soft curve of his bottom lip, before the beam is gone. Steve sighs and turns his head back to the ceiling. Only trouble lies that way in thinking too long of Billy Hargrove’s mouth.

“So you weren’t going to come otherwise?” Steve asks, and Billy snorts loudly.

“I’m not a prom kind of person, Steve-o,” Billy says, stretching his arms above his head. “But if I could piss off Aaron Samuels, then I figured that might be worth an evening of my time.”

“Yeah, that sounds more like you,” Steve agrees. It’s Billy’s favorite pastime. Being an asshole.

Billy grunts, one hand dangling off the edge of the table. Long, thick fingers, a scar winding its way around one knuckle. Steve’s never asked about it. He doesn’t ask about anything that might bring up Neil, or California.

“What would you be doing?” Steve asks, because he knows that his own options were ‘empty house and blackout drunk.’ Most of his friends are here, and although he knows that Dustin and the others wouldn’t mind him crashing the Wheelers’ basement, he feels like he still has some standards. 

“Fucking anything else,” Billy grunts and pulls himself up. “Man, small towns. All the fucking same. Hay bales and proms and hoedowns.” Steve gives a surprised snort of laughter.

“You’ve lived here for like two years now? How is your idea of Hawkins that fucked up?”

“It’s just like that,” Billy mutters churlishly, pulling his legs up and folding them under him. “I half expected cow tipping.”

Steve keeps his mouth shut. Some stories don’t need to be told.

“So...you’re still going?” he asks, the words feeling like thorns in his throat. He thinks he shouldn’t have asked. He can deal with not knowing. He can just go about his life, going to shifts at Family Video and arguing with Robin and ferrying the kids around, and not knowing that Billy is gone until it’s too late and he overhears some old biddies gossiping about how that nice boy from the community pool just vanished into the night.

It would hurt, sure. But it would be easier than feeling that he was waiting for the ax to drop down onto his head at any second.

Silence.

“Yeah,” Billy says finally, voice barely carrying in the few feet between him and Steve. “Yeah, I’m still going.”

Steve closes his eyes. It was never going to change. Billy’s never going to be the kind of person happy with a small town like this. He was never going to stay.

“Max will miss you,” he says instead, because it’s easier than what he wants to say. It’s true anyway: Max and Billy have this weird relationship going that is more arguing than anything else but he knows her. Knows that she looks up to Billy, needs him at her back.

“I’ll miss the little shit too,” Billy says, and there’s enough of a dip in his voice that Steve knows that it’s true. “But maybe in a few years, she can come join me.”

“Yeah,” Steve says, weakly. Max misses California too, but it’s not the same. Billy needs it like air, like the whole damn state is a wound in his side that needs healing over by salt water and surfers.

Billy sighs suddenly and jumps down off the table. The sound of his shoes hitting the floor is jarring in the silence. 

“I’d better…” he says, jabbing a thumb at the door. There’s still the faint beat of music in the distance, their vanishing going unnoticed by anyone else. Once upon a time, Steve would have ruled court at dances like these. Turns out the guy who took his crown took his heart too. “Heather is probably looking for me.”

“Don’t put out on a first date,” Steve says, still staring skywards. There’s a missing ceiling tile here somewhere: he used to see it every day in this class, when he wasn’t staring at Sabrina Rizzo’s legs.

“I’m not that easy, Harrington,” Billy retorts and Steve swallows. No, he’s not.

“Have fun,” he says, a clear dismissal. He doesn’t look, even as he hears Billy walk away, sees the light as the door is opened onto the main hallway. 

“Steve?” Billy asks, hand still on the door handle. Steve turns his head and feels his heart begin to race as he sees Billy in the dim light: long legs in black, white shirt unbuttoned down to his collar bones, suit jacket slung over one arm. He remembers the taste of peppermint, the faint smell of cookies and a fresh layer of snow. The warm light of the Byers house mere feet behind him and the cold, deep expanse of the woods in front of him. There’s cigarette smoke on the wind, Billy in a long, dark coat leaning against a tree.

He remembers the softness of Billy’s mouth. How cold he’d felt after Billy pulled away.

“I can’t,” Billy says, the words coming out in a tangled rush. Like he thinks he owes Steve some explanation, like Steve hasn’t known for the longest time. “I can’t. Not here. It’s a small town and…if my dad ever found out…If he ever found out, he’d kill us both.”

“I know,” Steve says quietly. It’s why - five months later - he has never pushed Billy. Never asked for anything after that brief, perfect kiss. 

“I’m just tired of being afraid, Steve,” Billy says miserably, and then the door drops shut behind him, once again leaving Steve behind.

[jellyfishloveletterghosts]

6 Out of 7 Ain’t bad

Rec list of the six (I was aiming for 7 🤷‍♀️) fics I did for Harringroveweek June 2022

Save A Horse Ride A Cowboy - Billy and Steve make a wager over mini golf, even if horses aren't actually part of the deal Steve doesn't end the night disappointed.

Bidder, Bidder, Won’t You Take Me Home - Steve is up for auction for a charity event Carol's sorority is hosting, after seeing Billy he wants his bid. (Werewolf Billy x Succubus Steve)

Your Little Shit - Steve treats himself to some lingerie and Billy just happens to be around when his box full of pretty lacy things comes in. Billy insists Steve try them on so he can act as his second opinion.

If I Could Turn Back Time - When they find themselves in the past Steve is willing to risk the future they know if it means a chance to save Billy. (The only wip in the bunch but not for long I am slowly toiling away at the next part.)

Break Room Super Soaker - Steve makes the mistake of flirting to entertain Robin when Billy is there to bear witness, he learns his lesson. (This one is a little 😬 heed the tags)

So They Know You’re Mine - Robin and Carol want to go to a gay club, dragging Steve and Billy along with them and the two finally get that push they need to get together.

I may not have gotten everything done I wanted to for this event but i did get two wips out of my wip doc that had been hanging around for like 2 years which is great because I have way to many wips in there :)

[shieldofiron]

La Ladra

Prompt #7: Caramel/Candy Apple

[Did you miss part 6? It’s Here]

[Link to all of the previous parts on Tumblr Here and AO3 Here ]

    Robin rubs his shoulders like he’s about to go toe to toe with the heavyweight champion of the world, “Now. Don’t be nervous. I’m not going to let you go in blind like the other virgins.”

    “It’s a movie, Rob,” Steve tries to squirm out of her grip.

    “It’s not a movie,” She says this the way other people say garbage, “It’s Rocky Horror, show some respect.”

    “Okay, jeez, sorry,” Steve frowns as she messes up the artfully arranged hair he’d already spent almost an hour on, “Hey! I want to look nice.”

    “Steve,” She pinches the bridge of her nose, “It’s Rocky.”

    “That doesn’t explain why my hair has to look like-”

    She starts messing with it again, roughing it up until it looks shaggy, hanging over his ears, “Trust me for once.”

    “I always trust you,” He says mulishly.

    “Then put your money where your mouth is, Stevie,” She tucks one lock behind his ear, “Billy’s going to cream his pants when he sees you. Well… his gold shorts.”

    “His what?” Steve chokes on his own spit.

    “He’s Rocky, right? There’s no way he’s anyone but Rocky,” She cocks her head to the side, “I can’t believe I didn’t know there was a troupe right around the corner.”

    “It’s Eddie’s apparently. The Hellfire Club, or something,” Steve gets a welcome break when she turns away and starts to dig in her bag. Thriller is playing on MTV in the other room, and he’s squished onto Robin’s minuscule vanity chair. She turns around with a stubby black eyeliner, which she brandishes like a knife.

    “No, no, no way,” Steve mutters weakly.

    “Do you want creamed shorts or not?” She grabs his chin and pulls his face up so she can look down into his eyes.

    Steve sucks in a breath. This is Billy’s thing, and he really wants to do it right. Billy promised there would be no jump scares, that it was a musical, that Steve would like it. And Steve wants to be a good sport.

    When he looks at himself in the mirror though, he’s not sure if Billy will recognize him. The black, just on the lower inner rim of his eyes, seems to make his eyes look bigger, a little sadder. His hair is messy, like he just rolled out of bed, and it looks… kind of… really cool. Like the sort of guy who might fit in at La Ladra.

    “Whoa.”

    “I know. I’m just that good,” Robin flourishes with her hand, “Now wait until we get you into the clothes.”

—-----

    Clothes was, perhaps, an overstatement on Robin’s part. He’s shirtless, and the chilly fall air blowing in his chest hair is making him slightly ticklish. He can’t put on any of his jackets though, because Robin has written ‘Virgin’ in bold, blood red lipstick across his chest. Jonathan’s pants are way too tight, and they sort of change the way he walks, but Robin showed him how they looked from the back and he was suddenly a lot more agreeable.

    The place is packed, and Steve realizes quickly that Robin’s actually dressed him down. Other people are wearing, honestly, lingerie, glitter smeared everywhere. He watches with rapt attention as a small person with electric yellow hair goes on their tiptoes to paint a “V” in lipstick on a woman wearing a white bra and lace slip.

    “I don’t have to get that, do I?” He asks Robin.

    “No,” Robin taps his shoulder, “That’s why I did your hair so nicely. You’ll be so pretty, they won’t want to do it.”

    She ushers Steve past the people catching virgins at the door, gesturing at his chest whenever anyone wearing the brightly colored shirt gets close.

    “He’s with me,” She urges him forward through the crowd.

    It’s an older theater with a floor so sticky it’s gone round the bend again and it’s kind of not anymore, and rusty red velvet seats. There’s a small stage, and Robin tugs him through the center aisle.

    “Steve!” Someone pokes their head out of the single door that must lead to some sort of backstage.

    It takes him a moment to recognize her too, “Chrissy? What are you doing here?”

    She’s wearing a full face of heavy makeup, her cheeks bright red with blush, and her hair is slicked back close to her skull.

    “Holy shit, Chrissy, you look amazing,” Robin says.

    She clutches her dressing gown closed and runs up to them, “Hey! One of Eddie’s friends got sick, so I’m filling in.”

    “You’re in the show?” Steve holds out his hands, “Hey everyone, it’s Miss Indiana 1986!”

    Chrissy giggles, “Steve, quit teasing!”

    “Chrissy!” He calls back, “I’m so proud of you.”

    She smiles, “It’s all Eddie.”

    “Nah,” Steve waves his hand in the air, “This is all Miss Indiana.”

    The lights dim and then get brighter again, and Chrissy backs towards the stage, her shoes tapping loudly as she makes her way back,

    “Enjoy the show,” Her eyes flicker to his chest, “I’m so glad I don’t have to do that.”

    He shakes his head, and follows Robin to a seat.

    The lights dim, and Heather emerges from the backstage, blinking at the lights in heavy makeup and an old fashioned usherette costume. She raises a whistle to her lips and blows hard.

    “Hey assholes!”

    The room goes quiet.

    “The show is about to begin,” She snaps her gum, projecting loudly, “If you would please take your seats!”

    “Who,” Robin exhales, her hand taking Steve’s, “Is that?”

    “That’s Heather,” Steve nods.

    “Holy shit,” Robin whispers, “I think I’m in love.”

    Steve just raises his brows, “Okay. She’s kind of… mean.”

    Robin just shakes her head a little, mouth agape, “I like mean.”

    Steve shrugs, “Okay.”

    “Now!” Heather yells, her red painted mouth wide, “I hear we have some virgins in the crowd tonight!”

    The people around them start whistling and howling.

    “Can all the pathetic, tiny, weak little virgins join me on stage?” Heather puts her hands on her hips, and leans forward, “Now!”

    Robin shoves at Steve, but she only has eyes for Heather.

    Steve troupes onstage with a handful of others, and stands at the back in a row while Heather inspects them, trying not to squint into the bright lights.

    Heather clicks her tongue, “Were these really the best you could come up with?”

    The crowd jeers at her and she eats it up, grinning.

    “For our first round, in the 1993 Virgin games!” She raises her head high, tipping her chin back and delivering like a general, “These lonely, desperate, shivering ROCKY VIRGINS-”

    She pauses for the crowd to cheer.

    “Will be performing the deviant act known as the orgasm contest!” She raises her hands up and coos when the crowd cheers, “A classic.”

    Billy enters, and as Heather promised, he’s wearing nothing more than gold shorts. Actually it’s more like gold underwear.

    The crowd loves it almost as much as Steve loves it, as Billy showily sets up a microphone in the center of the stage. He doesn’t see Steve, he’s too busy eying up the crowd. And in a way, that’s better, because Steve suddenly really, really wants to win this contest.

    Heather brings them up one by one and they take turns moaning into the microphone to the crowd’s adoration. Billy’s silent, just gesturing when each contestant is finished.

    Finally, it’s Steve’s turn.

    Heather rolls her eyes as he comes up to the microphone.

    Now, there are a few ways to play it. Some people have gone for just a classic breathy moan or a squeak, something short and simple that gets them off the stage. Some people are trying to say something funny, to win everyone over. But there’s no one, at least in Steve’s opinion, doing anything really sexy. They’re too embarrassed, sticking to something cheesy out of safety.

    And, even though it may not win the game, Steve feels like the crowd has been cheated a little, by that.

    He takes the mike in his hand, and lets his voice go low and gruff.

    “Daddy,” He growls into the microphone, “Fuck… fuck… fuck that’s good. Please, will you… please, Daddy, please, I want it… I want to, I want to, I want to, please let me, please, I want it, please Daddy, please.” He lets out an exhale, ragged. And then another. “T-thank you.”

    The crowd loses their minds, but not so much that he can’t hear Billy mumble some curses through his smile.

    “Alright! Now, you, the audience, get to vote on which of these Rocky Virgins,” She grins at the crowd, “Will move on to the next round.”

    Heather raises her hand over the head of the first girl, who gets a good solid round of applause. Billy watches, eying each contestant carefully. They go down the row, the crowd's reaction rising and lowering only slightly. Everyone here is all riled up and probably more than a little drunk already, so they’re lavish with their praise. But not so lavish that Steve doesn’t get a little extra. He can hear Robin scream for him when Heather puts her hand above his head.

    “Fucking show off,” Heather mumbles at him. Steve just tips his chin up higher. Of course he’s a show off. He didn’t get Keg Stand King for nothing.

    Billy pares it down to three people, including Steve of course.

    “And now, because it is a very special night,” Heather calls out to the crowd, “We have a special treat for all you out there. A Halloween surprise.”

    Eddie comes out, heels raising him to even greater heights. He’s in a black corset, barely laced up, his hair teased into high curls, eyeshadow to his brows. The crowd makes noises that put even Steve’s orgasm to shame. Eddie gives the whole crowd a little show, traipsing back and forth across the stage, with a tray of three enormous caramel apples.

    “Now these Virgins have to show us that their mouths are good for more than just moaning,” Heather gestures to Steve, “And kissing my feet.”

    Someone in the crowd howls, and Steve smirks, pouting for the audience.

    Heather and Billy each take an apple, and she holds it out to the crowd, “The first person to eat all the caramel off the apple, without using their hands is our winner for the evening!”

    Eddie takes an apple too, and saunters over to the guy next to Steve. Billy does the same, standing to Steve’s side, grinning wildly at the crowd.

    Heather turns to them and points a black painted nail at the floor, “Kneel, virgins.”

    Steve drops down so quickly his knees hurt, and Billy holds the caramel apple out at the level of his crotch.

“Ever done this before?” He whispers, eyes sparkling.

“No,” Steve grins, “I’m a virgin, remember?”   

“Oh, right,” Billy winks at him.

“Ready, set, go,” Heather shouts, while the shy girl kneeling in front of her looks up at her in awe.

Steve doesn’t care quite as much about winning this round. He swirls his tongue around the apple lingeringly, staring up at Billy’s face.

“Steve,” Billy whispers.

Steve just hums in response.

“Bite it,” There’s a flare of something dangerously hot behind Billy’s eyes.

Steve winks at him, “Say it in Spanish.”

Billy leans in, his hand cupping Steve’s jaw, “Muerdelo.”

So, Steve obeys.

—---

    Billy is exhausted by the time the performance is over, sweaty and smiling covered in lipstick marks, cheeks pink, a feather boa hanging limply from his broad shoulders.

    “Hey there,” Steve strolls up to him after several of his adoring fans have accosted him at the stage door. Steve leans against the cool cinderblock wall and looks his fill of Billy in black lingerie and stockings.

    “Hey,” Billy matches him, leaning against the wall, “Did you like it?”

    “Hmm,” Steve grins, tapping a finger on his chin, “Did I like seeing you run around half naked while Tim Curry was on screen? Let me think, because that’s a tough one.”

    Billy swats at his hand, annoyed but smiling, “Don’t dick me around.”

    “I’ll dick you something,” Steve grins.

    Billy closes his eyes, “Not tonight. Maybe. I think I overdid it.”

    Steve leans in just a little closer, “Showing off for me?”

    Billy’s smile is lazy and sweet, and he swipes his sweaty hair off his brow, “Yes. Were you showing off for me with the apple?”

    Steve leans in, letting his breath ghost off of Billy’s ear, “Yes.”

    “I thought you were more of the shy type, pumpkin,” He whispers, barely audible above the crowd.

    Steve smiles, “Only around you. You make me nervous.”

    The room is still packed, people leaving group by screaming group up the aisle. Robin is talking with Chrissy and Heather over by the stage, giving Heather starstruck eyes.

    But it feels like it's only the two of them in a little bubble. Steve looks at him, and Billy’s face is soft and open.

    Billy lets his head roll onto Steve’s shoulder, “I got more apples at home.”

    “Do you?” Billy’s never invited Steve to his place before. He confessed that he had never really been in a real relationship before Steve, he was more used to hookups and flings.

    “Yeah,” Billy smiles up at him, lashes fanning. The snake tattoo on his chest peeks from his corset, glistening with sweat and glitter.

    Steve licks his lips, “I could go for an apple. The one from earlier didn’t completely satisfy me.”

    Billy nudges him with his shoulder, “Rude. You’re so rude.”

    Steve hums, low in his throat, “Come on baby, I’ll take you home. You can just lie there, I’ll do all the work.”

    When they climb into the car together, Billy takes Steve’s hand and brushes a kiss across the knuckles before he leans back into the seat with a sleepy smile.

    The best taste of Billy Hargrove is always the next one. Steve never can seem to stop wanting another taste. 

The End. Happy Harringrove-ween <3 ShieldofIron

[pr3ttym3ssy]

Rating:Teen And Up Audiences

Archive Warning:Graphic Depictions Of Violence

Category:M/M

Fandom:Stranger Things (TV 2016)

Relationships:Billy Hargrove/Steve HarringtonBilly Hargrove & Steve Harrington

Characters:Maxine "Max" MayfieldDustin HendersonLucas SinclairRobin BuckleyEddie MunsonChrissy CunninghamNancy Wheeler

Additional Tags:Billy is Alive, Steve and Billy are crushing, Good Babysitter Steve Harrington, Rescue, Canon Divergence, No Vecna, Eventual Relationships, Friends to Lovers, The Upside Down, some implied child neglect, Background Neil Hargrove, Robin and Steve friendship

Title: You’ve Got Me Waiting, Don’t Leave Me Hanging

By: Pr3ttyM3ssy

Summary:

Billy is stuck, desperate to communicate with the other side. He can hear the echoes of Max’s voice. He makes it his new goal to get her to notice him. Luck is on his side, she’s not alone in this rescue mission. Because a certain babysitter will not allow the kids to go into the upside down alone, it has nothing to do with Billy himself, or does it…