#mean Billy Hargrove

[ihni]

The boys arm wrestling, from this post by @giurochedadomani ... Because YES, @flayedintheusa was right:

It IS indeed very Harringrove coded.

[tendafoot]

power couple

[bigdumbbambieyes]

nsfw!! feat. feminization, dirty talk, Billy being Billy and Steve getting off on it

“Uh—”

It’s embarrassing, the sounds he makes, throwing his head back with it as his jaw drops, his thighs tightening around Billy’s thick waist where the blond is nestled perfectly.

Billy mocks it directly into his ear, those lips brushing against the shell of it, a quiet little faux-moan, “Uh.”

And Steve flushes red, embarrassed because he hates it and how his dick reacts — pulsing a bit of precum onto his belly as Billy grabs his thighs and folds him in half, growling, “You moan like a girl,” as he fucks into Steve just how they both like it, makes Steve blush harder as he spits, “Your pretty hole’s gripping me like a pussy, too.”

Steve feels the air pushed out of his lungs as the asshole on top of him forces his knees to his chest, forces his cock deeper, reducing Steve’s bitchy retort into a pathetic little whine that he can’t control.

“That’s it, baby, you like it when I stuff your pussy, hm?” Billy grins down at him, his tongue poking out between his teeth, like it always does when Billy purposefully gets on his nerves. He even stops his hips, grinds them against Steve’s ass as he stuffs him full again, so fucking full that Steve swears he can feel it in his throat.

“You wanna be my little girlfriend, Stevie?” Billy leers, leaning down to lick wetly across Steve’s cheek, who grimaces but his cock twitches anyway, the traitor, “C’mon, I know you wanna.”

“Shut…up,” Steve nearly wheezes, reaching up to push Billy’s face away from his, “Just…fuck me.”

Billy surprisingly listens, his hips going again, and he even lifts himself off Steve to sit back, although his hand is quick to wrap around Steve’s wrist — keeping his hand at the blond’s mouth.

Which immediately opens and wraps around two of Steve’s fingers, their eyes connected and unwavering as Billy begins to suck at them like he would Steve’s dick, leaning forward just a little again so Steve can really see his mouth at work as the blond thrusts into him.

And it kinda melts his brain, makes him fucking stupid, because Billy knows how to get him exactly where he wants him, always knowing what to do or say to get Steve in positions like this.

His dick, untouched between them, aches at the memory of Billy’s talented mouth and he trembles from it, clenches around Billy’s cock inside him as his expression crumbles a little, his lips parting to whimper, “M’gonna cum—”

Which makes Billy smile around the fingers in his mouth, pulling them out with a gross little pop before he spits into Steve’s palm and says, “Go on, rub your clit — make yourself feel good, princess.”

And it’s shameful, how Steve barely has to touch his cock before he’s cumming ropes across his own belly as Billy fucks roughly into him again, grabbing at his hips and cooing a cruel, “Good girl, Harrington,” as Steve tosses his head back into his mattress.

One of these nights, he’s going to give Billy a taste of his own medicine, he swears to himself.

[toobusybeingdelulu]

sometimes I sit and remember that the only time steve’s beauty was explicitly acknowledged in the show, the comment came from billy hargrove’s mouth. Like that’s insane, right? He was the only one to tell him TO HIS FACE, ON SCREEN, that he was PRETTY. that he would have no problems finding someone else after Nancy because he was just THAT BEAUTIFUL. Like what the fuck.

[shieldofiron]

Hello Miss Shieldofiron what do you think about a harringrove one night stand but when Steve wakes up he realises Billy has train bedsheets

The morning light has a golden glow. So do Billy's curls, like spun sunshine.

What can Steve say. The sex was good. Makes him sappy and soft.

He raises his head a little from the pillow and presses a kiss to Billy's cheek, nuzzling him softly.

He smells like cigarettes and cologne and he looks so good wearing nothing. In his sleep he's pulled the sheets up over his chest and it's kind of cute. Billy snuffles, and Steve can tell he's woken up. Maybe they'll go to a diner or something. Maybe they can be on a date all day long.

Steve squints at the sheets for a second before they start to make sense.

He glances up and meets Billy's eyes.

"Are those-"

"Fuck off!"

"Thomas the-" He's cut off when Billy covers his mouth with a warm hand but the muffled sound is pretty damning.

"It's laundry day. They were a novelty gift from Lucas, for secret santa-" Billy's face is so red. "Shut up!"

Steve pushes Billy's hand away, "I didn't even know they made them for queen size beds."

"Shut up!"

"You shut up!" Steve grins. "It's cute. Cute as hell, actually."

"Shut-"

Steve puts his hand over Billy's mouth, and then kisses the back of his own hand, eyes never leaving Billy's.

"Stop."

Billy squirms, but some of the stiffness leaves his shoulders.

"I like you, Billy. I like your Thomas the Tank Engine sheets. Now stop telling me to shut up, or adorable stories about secret santa," Steve smiles. "I can only get so turned on, okay?"

Billy blinks at him, and then goes all soft, letting Steve fall between his thighs.

"Now," Steve removes his hand, grinning. "I hear you like trains. Care for a railing?"

[wingsau]

I want to talk about Billy Hargrove. I want to talk about a character who was so complex and also such a reality for some viewers. A character who was so angry and vicious, but also a child who was being abused. I wanna talk about how Billy is such a good representation of what it looks like to be stuck in such a toxic life, and how easy it is to let that hate and anger consume you - even if it's not who you are. I wanna talk about how I could have been Billy Hargrove in a different situation. And I want to talk about how they used that to make him a villain and then they killed him. But some of you aren't ready to have that conversation.

[buckysgrace]

I need enemy!billy to fuck me stupid and call me a slut :(

CW: Mean!Billy, Unprotected sex, hate fucking

You didn't get along with Billy. Not at all. He was arrogant, annoying. And he was determined to make your life a living hell.

He would pull your bra straps in class, flick pencils at the back of your head and stick his foot out to trip you whenever he got the chance. If you passed him in the hall, he'd shoulder check you. He'd tease you about the length of your skirts, regardless if they were short or long.

If you wore makeup, he'd point out that you were trying too hard, if you didn't wear any he'd ask if you had given up. As if he somehow thought you were trying to impress him.

As if.

The issue was that your friend group tended to overlap, just briefly but enough that you often ran into him. It wasn't like Hawkins was very big either, you saw him more often than not. And that was irritating too. He acted like he was something special, like you should care.

"You don't play hard to get, do you?" He asked you, eyebrows cocked as he brought his beer up to his lips again. His dirty blonde hair curled against his shoulders, the wind gliding it across his forehead as you rolled your eyes.

Ignoring him was best, so that's exactly what you did. You pressed your fingers over your skirt, doing your best to prove that it was plenty long enough. It touched your knees and that was what mattered. You didn't need his opinion anyways.

"On your period?" He tried again, taking advantage of how long your friends were taking to return, "Or maybe it's the stick that's always up your ass."

"I do not have a stick up my ass," You replied quickly, insides burning as electricity strummed through your veins. You quickly stood, desperately needing to put as much distance between the two of you as possible, "And you're the one that's easy." You pointed out before you turned, stomping your way back to the house.

"They went on a run for more beer," He chuckled, lazily following behind you, "It's just you and I." He sang, sounding far too cheery.

"You can fuck off now." You told him seriously as you yanked the door open, wishing you had gone with your gut feeling and taken your own car. Now you were stuck with him.

"You don't like talking?" He questioned as he pressed his hand against the door, keeping you from slamming it in his face, "I've heard you like doing other things with your mouth."

"You're disgusting," You told him as the anger pulsed inside of you, "You're not any better." You pointed out, sure that he had already slept his way through half the school.

You gripped the railing, pulling yourself up the stairs. You needed privacy, your own room to sit and breathe in for a while so you wouldn't end up losing your control.

"Where are you going?" He asked curiously, eyes glazing with mischief as you turned back towards him. You turned into the room, trying to slam the door but to no avail. He moved quicker.

"I'm so tired of you," You spit out angrily, pressing your finger roughly against his chest, "You're an asshole." You told him seriously, letting the fire inside of you erupt.

"Oh," He grinned, looking anything but upset as his eyes flickered over your features, "What else?" He teased, cocking both of his eyebrows as he stared at you intensely. He was amused. Playing with you.

"You're not even worth it." You replied as you crossed your arms, not wanting to give him the benefit of seeing your anger.

"Huh," He continued to wear that stupid smirk, making you wish you could smack it off of him, "That's funny coming from you." He added as he rested lazily against the dressed, sticking his arms out in front of him.

"Excuse me?" You asked in surprise, jaw dropping at what he was suggesting. You were nowhere near as bad as what he was.

"You're boring," He said with a shrug of his shoulders, "A doormat. There's not one thing that's interesting about you." He spoke dryly as he watched you.

"Fuck you." You were seething now, pulse racing as a fire of fury burned deep inside of you. You were so angry that you couldn't decide if you were going to scream or cry. Both seemed like a good option, but you didn't want him to see that.

He stalked towards you, lips curled up into the softest smirk as your feet remained stuck to the ground. You weren't fearful of him, you knew that the best he could do was insult you. But you weren't going to back down, not now.

Your eyes flickered over his features, trying to ignore how pretty he looked at the moment. You hated that he was attractive and even more that he knew it. He was cocky, arrogant. It drove you crazy.

You stalled as he came to a stop in front of you, tilting his head as his eyes remained locked on yours. Your heart flipped inside of your chest, trembling as his minty breath tickled against your face.

His lips were hot against yours, intense and warm as his palms fell to the side of your face. You should push him away, shove him back harshly. But you couldn't. Not when something electric spread through your body, tickling your veins.

You felt something in your brain shift, awaking you from your haze as you bit down harshly on his bottom lip. He grunted, his tongue flicking out against your teeth in surprise as he squeezed at your face.

You let him strip you of your clothes without a fight, his hands rough against your skin as he pressed you over the side of the bed. He pushed down roughly between your shoulder blades, your face falling into the mattress and your ass in the air.

"I knew it," He paraded proudly, a smirk evident on his features as you turned to look over your shoulder, "You're no better than the rest of them. Just as eager to spread your legs."

All insults died on your tongue at the feeling of his fingers brushing through your folds, collecting your slick before you felt the head of his cock against your entrance. You gulped, fingertips falling into a fist as he bullied his thick cock inside of your soaked cunt.

You moaned, eyes fluttering shut and jaw dropping as he stretched your slick walls inch by inch. His girth was thick, thicker than you had ever had as he buried himself inside of you.

"S'nice," He teased as his palms fell across the curve of your ass, small moans leaving your lips as you adjusted around him, "So fucking tight. She's leaking for me." He teased as some of his fingers fell to your clit, rubbing your sensitive bud gently.

"God," You breathed out roughly, mind feeling hazy as your eyebrows furrowed tightly together, "Feels good." You squeaked out softly as the pleasure burned deep inside of you, twisting your insides tightly together.

He laughed from behind you, his fingers electric against your skin as he snapped his hips forward. You whimpered at the sensation, the tip of his cock pressing against your bundle of nerves. You shook, your thighs trembling from the pleasure.

He squeezed at your tits, rolling them in his callused hands before he pinched your nipples. You whimpered at the feeling, overwhelmed as he began to slide his cock in and out of your soaked cunt. Everything inside of you was burning in an intense manner before he yanked your body back towards his slick chest.

Your mind felt hazy as you began to rock your body back along the curve of his cock, savoring his thick girth and the curves that decorated his skin.

The sound of your bodies meeting was dirty, filthy as his cock pressed deep inside of you. You craved the feeling, wanted to feel more of him as you continued to grind yourself back against him.

He groaned from behind you, his breath hot against your cheek as he smacked his palm across your thigh. Your cunt ached around his girth as you rocked yourself back against him, feeling a fresh wave of desperation crippling over you.

"You're so stupid, huh?" He teased, eyes flashing with lust as he tilted your chin roughly in his direction, "Already dumb around my cock. Such a dumb little slut." He groaned as you continued to fuck yourself along his cock, whimpering as words failed to come to you.

He spoke to you in a demeaning manner, insulting you. But you didn't care. Something about it made your cunt ache, your clit throb as he dragged you up and down the length of his cock.

Cries of pleasure left your lips, drool sliding down your chin as he continued to roughly snap his hips forward. You were leaking around the girth of his cock, coating his balls in your slick as you greedily grinded yourself back against him.

The sound of your bodies meeting filled the room, spurring you on as your fingers fell into two fists. His arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you even closer to him.

"See," He hummed against the side of your neck, his tongue briefly licking at your sweaty skin, "It doesn't hurt to be nice." He whispered gruffly as he kissed at your ear, then biting with enough force to make you yelp.

"I am," You spit out, struggling to breathe as the pleasure burned deep inside of you. He laughed, his sweaty chest rubbing against your back as he dipped another hand between your leg, "Fuck, fuck." You squeaked out, body spasming as he brought a thick finger against your clit.

He bit down on your skin as he continued to fuck into you from behind, his finger rubbing harshly against your swollen clit as your muscles spasmed roughly.

Everything inside of you burned, your mind going blank as the pleasure crashed over you. Your thighs snapped together as you came with a loud cry, whimpering as your cum slid down your thighs.

His groans vibrated across your skin as he continued to roughly grind his fingers against your clit. Your toes curled in awe, bliss overwhelming your cunt clamped down around his girth.

"That's a good girl," He groaned as he pulled out, letting you collapse onto the bed in a pile of good. You whimpered as you turned, watching the way he wrapped his thick fingers around his cock and roughly jerked himself off, "Such a fucking slut." He grunted, leaving no warning for you as he came harshly.

You gasped, blinking roughly as his warm spunk fell against your features. You gaped, feeling it across your cheek, lips and forehead. Some of it dripped across your eyelid, leaving you to quickly wipe it away.

"You're a dick." You hissed, in disbelief to what you had just done. You couldn't believe you had let him back in with no issue. He would think that he was right about everything. Anger boiled in your stomach again.

"And this here?" He questioned, tilting his head as his strong fingers fell against your sore cunt, "Belongs to me."

[avalonlights]

this is literally saved on my computer as imsorrydacre.jpg 🤣

[rowynbriarsalix]

[lazybakerart]

THEE billiam

[harringroveera]

That still counts as accessories, Dustin!

[runraerun]

[wordpress-blaze-242312948]

A Soft Revolution of Light

For the ones who feel the call of the new Earth…

There is a quiet stirring beneath the noise of the old world. A vibration hums through the hearts of the awakened. Not all can hear it yet, but those who do are being called home.

Not to the homes we’ve known, but to the ones we are meant to build.

Small, conscious communities are being created— not by strategy, but through divine inspiration. Not as a rebellion of force, but as a return to harmony— to the land, to spirit, to one another.

These communities won’t be formed in boardrooms or built by blueprints of ego. They’ll sprout from campfires and shared meals, from garden soil and open palms. They’ll rise in the forest clearings. They will rise in the treehouses kissed by starlight. They will rise in the laughter of children raised with freedom and remembrance.

I have seen it. I am creating it. A treehouse homestead where souls live close to the Earth and closer to Love. We’ll grow our own food, preserve the harvest, share medicine and song. There will be a free store, a communal kitchen, and hearts wide open. Five families—maybe more—each one drawn by the invisible thread of destiny. And their children… and their children’s children. A lineage of lovekeepers and land-healers, carrying this sacred vision long after I’ve moved on to my next adventure.

But perhaps your vision looks different— maybe you see yurts beneath the northern lights, or eco-domes in the desert. Maybe your soul longs for a seaside sanctuary, or a village within city gardens. Perhaps your community is nomadic, caravan-style, or rooted in the sacred rhythms of song, art, and ceremony. There is no one right way—only the way that calls to you. The blueprint lives inside you already. Let it rise. Let it speak. Let it shape the world with your hands.

Because it will not be a single savior, a policy, or a system that sets us free. It will be the communities. The small, intentional circles of awakened beings— banding together, building together, creating together. That is how we shift timelines. That is how we remember what it means to live in harmony with one another and this Earth.

This is not just my dream. It is ours.

A collective vision whispered by the stars, remembered through meditation, and made real by every seed planted in hope.

The shift will not come from governments. It will come from gardeners. From wisdom keepers and wild-hearted builders. From women who remember. From men who unlearn. From souls who show up, again and again, with love as their blueprint.

If something within you aches when you hear these words, it might be with longing. It's not with sadness. Then this is your sign. You are one of the builders of the new world. The ones who came to create not alone, but together.

We are not waiting for the future. We are the future. And it begins in community.

Come find us. We are gathering.

— Rooted & Roaming Wandering Home

Source: A Soft Revolution of Light

[ihni]

What if ...

... Hopper and Neil Hargrove had been in the army together?

I don't know anything about the army and all I know is that the war at least Hopper went to was the one in Vietnam, but let's play with the thought that the two of them were there together. And did NOT get along, like at ALL; Hopper thought Neil was deceitful and untrustworthy, too proud and manipulative. Overestimating his own importance and competence, and too happy to cause pain in others.

They both survived the war and went back to their own lives, only like 20 years later or so, the Hargroves show up in Hawkins and Hopper meets Neil Hargrove again.

Despite telling himself that they're older now; that they're adults who have had time to grow into themselves, Hopper STILL doesn't like Neil. Like, his skin is crawling when he sees the man, even after all these years. But it's not like he has a good reason to dislike him now; outwardly, Neil Hargrove seems to be just a normal family man, setting down in Hawkins with his family. No one else has had any complaints. And either way, Hopper can't explain it, it's just a feeling. He just doesn't LIKE him.

And the thing is, that the guy has KIDS now, too. Or - as Hopper learns, as soon as he gets the documents he pulled from California - a son, at least (the girl being Neil Hargrove's new wife's kid). And by the file that Hopper has to pull some strings to get his hands on, the kid is shaping up to be a bad seed, just like his dad. Reports on fights, trespassing, shoplifting, underage drinking, reckless driving.

Hopper doesn't want that kind of bad influence in his town. So what, if he wants to nip it in the bud? So what, if he pulls the kid over as soon as he gets the chance, just to get a feel of him? The kid is tense, obviously hiding something, and speaking so respectfully that it borders on sarcasm - strike that, it's definitely sarcasm.

So what, if Hopper feels the need to put the fear of god into the kid? He's here, and his father is not - Hopper can't touch Neil, who never officially puts a toe out of line, but a teenager with a bad attitude? It's basically Hopper's JOB to do something about that.

So he goes hard on the kid. Tells himself it's for the kid's own good; keeping him on the straight and narrow and teach him what's right and what's wrong. And hey, if he gets to bring the kid home to the Hargrove doorstep sometimes and look Neil Hargrove in the eye while he lets him know what his son has done now (Not so perfect now, are you Hargrove?), well, then that's just a bonus. Perks of being the Chief of Police.

It becomes personal, in the way that he will take any chance to gte on the kid's case for SOMETHING. But also the opposite of personal, because the kid - Billy - isn't really a person in his own right in Hopper's eyes. He's just an angry kid. Neil Junior. A chip of the Hargrove block. He is simply a means to an end. The best way to get to Neil in a way that doesn't seem unreasonable, or petty, in the eyes of everyone else.

And of course, I want the Moment of Realization. I don't know where or when; maybe Hopper stumbles over Billy's car parked out at the Quarry, or maybe he nabs him after a party, or maybe he sees him out walking by the side of the road late one night and pulls up next to him.

And maybe that's the time when Billy has had ENOUGH. When he either gets angry and starts yelling, 'What do you have against me, man?? What have I ever done to you?", or maybe he tries to run because he can't do this right now, or maybe it's a Bad Night and he's tired and terrified and he breaks down crying (but tries to hide it).

Maybe it's all three.

And, I don't know, but maybe Billy's hurt and wincing and Hopper notices, and maybe when Billy refuses Hopper (not very gently) demands to see, and -

Maybe there are bruises. Maybe there's a burn scar somewhere on Billy where he couldn't have put it himself (like between his shoulder blades), the one you get from a red-hot lighter. A mark that Hopper remembers from his time in the the army, from when a buddy of his made a bet with Neil and lost, and Neil let his lighter burn for a long time and then pressed the hot metal against the guy's back. That too scarred, and it looked just like this.

And maybe that's when Hopper lets his memories boil over, and his voice is rough when he asks what happened, who did that, and maybe that's when Billy mutters something about Hopper and Neil being army buddies and Hopper doesn't have to worry, Billy isn't a snitch, he can keep his mouth shut.

And that's when things slot into place in Hopper's brain, and he realizes that the kid is just a KID, that the anger comes from hopelessness, that the attitude is a mask to hide his fear. Because even now, he's cowering in Hopper's grip - but still keeping eye contact, back straight, hands to the side. Learned behaviour.

And that's when Hopper realizes he has Fucked Up.

[toobusybeingdelulu]

me when I remember that the keg stand thing was basically a game won by those who knew how to swallow better, and both steve and billy had excelled at that apparently

[shieldofiron]

Harringrove x My New Favorite Phrase

[theladycarpathia]

Billy’s not expecting the call from his dad.

“Billy?” Hop sounds distant, the faint sound of an idling engine in the background. Billy blinks, because his dad is at work and as far as Billy knows that usually means sitting behind a desk at the station and arguing with Flo.

“Don’t you have paperwork to be doing?” Billy says and Hopper snorts. There’s the sound of background traffic that’s then shut out by the clang of a car door.

“Don’t give me cheek, I am still the chief,” Hopper says as though that means anything in a small town where the most crime that they get is some drunk idiot attempting to rob the gas station.

“Yes, sir,” Billy quips and changes the channel. No one else is home and he’s bored. Jon and Joyce are still at work, and El and Will are doing weird nerd activities. The diner didn’t have a shift for him today and he doesn’t have a date, so he came home. He’d half expected someone to be here, instead of getting stuck with a protein bar and old reruns.

“That’s more like it,” Hopper says and then clears his throat awkwardly. “I was just wondering…are you definitely single?”

“Dad,” Billy says, attention now fully away from the TV set. Hop’s called him before, to ask him shit like do they need milk and to take the trash out. He doesn't call to talk about Billy's love life. They never talk about that, not after that time Hopper came in his room without knocking. “What is your next question, because this could make the next family dinner a little uncomfortable.”

“Don’t be a dick,” Hopper gripes. There’s the sudden cackle of laughter in the background and Billy sits up.

“Are you with someone?” he asks and then sucks in a breath at the implications. “Did you put me on speaker?”

“I may have done,” Hopper says, sounding sheepish. “I just picked up a young man outside the movie theatre and he’s about your age…”

“I’m nineteen!” the mystery guy hollers from the backseat. Hopper keeps talking like the guy hadn’t spoken.

“I don’t know, I just thought he was your type.”

Billy presses a hand to his temple, unable to believe that his dad has just said those words. “What’s my type?” he asks, wondering if he’s going to combust right here and now. Hopper makes that little awkward throat clearing again, like he can’t believe the situation either.

“You know,” he says stiffly. “Sort of…pretty.”

Oh God. Billy can never look Hopper in the eye again.

“You think I’m pretty?” the guy asks curiously, and Billy can’t blame him for sounding a bit weirded out.

“I think you look like a lot of the doe-eyed pretty-boys my son brings home,” Hopper snaps. Despite his obvious discomfort, Billy can’t help the rush of affection at Hopper trying to be supportive. Neil would have beat the shit out of him. Hopper tries to hook him up with appropriately aged delinquents in the back of the police car.

“A lot?” the guy asks and Billy flushes. He then regrets it because he has no idea if he even wants to impress whatever guy Hopper has picked up.

“It’s not a lot,” he says defensively because Hawkins isn’t exactly big on the gay scene. His last boyfriend he met at Tina’s Halloween party and to be fair, if you wear a kilt and not a lot else to a party in October, Billy’s absolutely going to beg you to rail him in the downstairs cloakroom. The relationship hadn't exactly worked out.

“Look, I get the feeling I’m never going to hear the end of this so here’s the situation,” Hopper says, sounding tired. “This is my son, Billy. He’s about to finish high school, he likes cars and burgers and loud music. He has shit taste in men even though he’s attractive, clever and a smart mouth. Billy, this is Steve. I was on my way back from the mayor’s office when I caught him peeing in an alley. Judging by his big brown eyes and the fact that public nudity doesn’t seem to be a problem for him, I thought of you.”

“Aww,” Billy drawls, sitting back on the couch. There are lights in the drive so someone has just arrived home. Which is good because he needs to tell everyone this story so they can give Hopper shit about it over dinner. “Pops, that’s so sweet.”

“Don’t say I never do anything for you,” Hopper says, like he hasn’t already done everything for Billy by getting him out, giving him a home. “I’ll take an extra polaroid when I process him.”

“I had to take a leak!” Steve protests and Hopper sucks in air through his teeth.

“There are public bathrooms, kid, I’ve heard those work pretty well. Billy, help your mom with dinner when she gets home.” Sucks for Hopper, it’s Jon heading up the path, keys dangling from his fingers. Billy can’t wait to tell him this story.

“Or what, you won’t bring me any more dates?” Billy asks, but he’s only half-joking. Hopper means well and kind of fucks it up a lot but this time he might have hit it right on the money. He thinks he might like Steve.

“Do I get a picture?” Steve asks. “Or does the Hawkins Police just pimp out young innocent men with full bladders?”

Oh yeah. He’s definitely going to like Steve.

“I have a picture on my desk,” Hopper admits grumpily. There’s the jangle of keys in the door as Jonathan lets himself in. “You can look at it if you’re good.”

“And what if I’m not?” Steve asks and Jonathan walks in just in time to raise his eyebrows at Billy.

“I can help punish him, if he’s not,” Billy suggests, and Hopper hangs up the phone just as Steve begins to laugh.

This has probably been done before because it's based on that famous tumblr post but it's so dull during school holidays I have nothing to do but write. And I have no in progress Harringrove fics which is probably a problem I should fix.