#bratty steve harrington

[shieldofiron]

Hello

But what about Steve who got kicked out by his parents when he came out as bi and somehow made it to California and ends up doing sex work and finds it is something he is good at and having a huge dick is good for something for a change. He also does some high end escort work too cos he knows all the etiquette stuff, thanks to his upbringing.

He's got his regulars, men and women, and a little apartment and there's this golden guy who looks like a freaking god who goes past every morning on a run, super early, when Steve has a coffee on his balcony. Steve starts thinking about him when he's jerking off or when he's with clients, he can't help himself.

And then one day he shows up at this fancy hotel to be some rich guy's escort for the night and it's the guy he's been seeing run past his balcony every morning.

Mr Hargrove, CEO of something.

Anyway, that's what I was thinking about just now while I was waiting for you to tell me the super sad bit of your idea.

<3

The request is kind of weird.

Normally people request him in lingerie, something filmy and sexy that frames his body. When it's not that it's suits, from a casual sports coat all the way to a tuxedo, and he keeps it all in his closet.

"You know what it means?" Angela's gum snaps on the phone.

"Green basketball shorts?" Steve scratched his temple, "Not really. I think I have some from high school."

"Well, if they're tight," Angela said, "And he said sneakers. High white socks."

Steve rolled his eyes, "Okay. Weirdo. Did he say anything about sex acts?"

"Anal," Her gum pops.

"No shit, it's a guy," Steve rolls his eyes.

"He just asked what you looked like, honestly. Wanted a guy with brown eyes, brown hair, real pretty," Angela clicked her long nails against the counter, "Other than the outfit he wasn't too talkative. Sexy ass voice. He requested you specifically. Got all perked up when I said the name. Stephan the King only."

Steve shrugged, "Okay. Whatever."

Most of the time he wasn't too concerned with what his clients wanted. He was flexible in more ways that one, happy to bottom or top or escort them to the opera or just listen. Most of the time, the job was just listening, even during sex. Finding out what people liked and being that came naturally to him. He was good at bullshit, as Nancy would say. He was a great hooker.

He'd made his job bullshit. He got paid an ungodly amount by the hour to spread his legs or spread someone else's, and he was good at it. Hooked up with an agency that specialized in high quality work, and kept the total weirdos away from him.

His roommate Jason Carver had a good hand with the weirdos anyway. He was always getting the odd calls where he had to dress up in costumes and came home to their apartment at odd hours, covered in weird substances, his legs shaky until Steve made him take a shower. Last night it had been grape jelly.

And so here Steve was, not covered in jelly, sitting in a plush hotel room in Malibu with his Hawkins high shorts pushed down his thighs, trying to finger himself and thinking about his favorite spank bank material.

Steve didn't know the guy's name, but he called him the runner. Always running at 5 am, long blonde curls streaming behind him. He looked like the models on the covers of those Johanna Lindsay romance novels, the practically-bondage porn that he'd devoured in high school during sleepless nights.

He imagined the running slowing down when he got to Steve's balcony, his bronze skin gleaming and his blonde beard hiding a devilish smirk.

The smirk may be borrowed... maybe the shorts have him remembering some other sleepless nights in high school.

Steve is loose, last night he was working with a couple, and so he's pretty stretched out, which means he can concentrate on just relaxing, brushing his fingers ever so softly over his prostate as he imagines the runner smirking, his voice a hazy blend of movie stars and devilish California drawling.

He kicks up his feet on the bed, working himself shamelessly in time with his finger's motions. He rolls the tip of his pointer over the small nub of his prostate while he works a fourth finger inside.

The alarm on his watch goes off and he makes a winded noise, halfway between a whine and a groan. He was just getting to the good part of the fantasy, where the runner would position him, ass up, over his tiny Venice balcony and eat him out like he was trying to make Steve cum before the dawning of the apocalypse. He would rub his face all over that golden beard, ride him like a stallion. Steve rode his fingers through one more wave, heat crashing down his spine, before he pulled out, tugging up his shorts over his painful erection and rushing to the bathroom to wash his hands and check his hair.

He didn't have to do all this prep but it made his job more enjoyable. Most clients didn't want to go through a lot of foreplay, obviously. But he did like coming too, and it wasn't like he was taking ten clients a night. Might as well have fun.

He was all positioned on the bed when the guy came in. Ready for the masc fantasy, legs spread, his arms on his knees. His dick was lewdly outlined by the tiny shorts, but he guessed they weren't going to the opera so that should be okay.

"In here," He called out, holding his breath until the guy came around the corner.

That devilish smirk fell right to pieces.

"Harrington," The man gasped, the word more breath than it was noise.

"Billy??"

"What are you doing here? Is it Max? Is she okay?" Billy's face is vulnerable, pale under his golden beard.

Steve thinks of the last time they'd seen him, driving off into the dead of the night while Max had cried. She'd begged for Steve's help to move Billy out, and the last he'd seen of Billy Hargrove it was just him chuffing Max on the chin, telling her to be brave.

"She's okay, I..." Steve shook his head, "I'm just here to meet a client."

"Client..." Billy ran a hand over his eyes, and then dropped it over his mouth.

"Yeah, sorry, they must have given me the wrong key at the front I'm supposed to meet-"

"Killian Handcock?"

Steve froze.

"Yeah," Billy sighed, "That's me."

"Oh."

"Yeah. Look, sorry for all this. I'll pay, of course, for your time," Billy began to dig in the pocket of his suit jacket.

"No, whoa, it's okay," Steve waved his hands, "It's okay."

"Obviously, you wouldn't-"

"We can still-"

Billy blinked at him.

"I just mean. It's fine, right. We know why we're here," Steve glances down at his outfit, "You really didn't know it was me?"

"Fuck," Billy dragged a hand down his face, "This is so fucking humiliating."

"No, really," Steve chuckled, "What high school crush am I supposed to be?"

The words are out of his mouth before he's fully able to think them through. It's all obvious later but in the moment, he's thinking of all the guys in their school with brown eyes... brown hair... real pretty...

Billy moves towards him, his face flashing angrily, and then he rears back, nearly slamming into the giant tv that dominates the far wall.

Startle response, Steve remembered from when Billy came back. If he so much as put his hands towards someone he would flinch, remembering what the Mind Flayer made him do.

Steve wasn't being a very good hooker. He wasn't listening. Wasn't thinking.

"You know," Steve sat back on the bed slowly, no quick movements. "I used to read these romance novels in high school. Kind of cheesy, definitely NOT always with the best consent. But... sometimes they'd have these tough guys, kind of take charge guys. And I used to imagine you... taking charge of me."

Billy just blinks at him like a deer caught in the headlights.

Steve spread his legs, just casually.

"Is that what you used to imagine too?" Steve asked.

"Maybe," Billy says in a cracked voice.

"Tell me," Steve urged.

It takes Billy a moment, fumbling with his fancy wool jacket. He hasn't flashed the cash yet, but Richard Harrington's son recognizes an expensive suit when he sees it. Billy's got the money to pay.

Not that Steve's thinking much about payment when Billy starts talking, in that movie star drawl.

"Wanted you to fuck me. Me to fuck you. Wanted to turn you inside out and shake you like pants at the laundromat," Billy whispered, "See what falls out."

Steve bit off a moan that wasn't practiced, wasn't planned. They haven't touched for years. Not since after Starcourt, careful touches around Billy's healing body, friendly, boyish nudges. Nothing like this.

"Wanted to touch you," Billy's face is so raw with longing, blue eyes sparking, it's almost hard to look at, "Touch you all up and down those long legs. Wrap you around me like a scarf. Keep me warm. Indiana's cold as shit and you always looked so warm."

Steve spread his legs further, "I run hot."

Billy reached back and undoes his hair, and it's only as it streams down his shoulders that Steve realizes, almost chuckling if it wasn't for the open, bare way Billy's looking at him. Like Steve is some kind of dream come true.

And the thing is that Steve's a happy hooker. He's not looking for any pretty woman ending.

But... you know sometimes he imagines. Imagines a guy with long blonde hair pulling him close after sex and calling him honey, baby, sweetness.

Billy takes a step forward and Steve smiles at him.

"I'm assuming you don't want me scared, or nervous," Steve runs a hand up his knee.

Billy shakes his head.

"Boyfriend experience," Steve offers, but it doesn't sound like a question, because he's not asking.

Billy's telling him, in the trembling hand that finally finds it's way to Steve's knee, the heavy swallow when Steve tips his head back, letting Billy into his space.

Steve knows. He's listening.

"This a... you have rules..." Billy's voice is gruff, low. Barely heard over the hum of the ac and the distant traffic from the street below.

"I kiss," Steve cocks his head to the side, "I do just about anything. For you."

He runs his hand over the back of Billy's, just tracing the road map of his veins. The long route that led them both here.

"Billy," Steve breathes.

It was just like he imagined Billy Hargrove would kiss. Hard and rough and desperate, like they were about to be ripped apart. Maybe they were, because Steve was clinging too, and it wasn't bullshit. He was shocked to find it was true, every word of it.

He fell open on the bed, half smothered by Billy's bulk, and he reveled in it, wrapping his legs around Billy and tugging him until his full weight pressed Steve to the bed.

Billy broke their kiss with a rough pant against Steve's lips, "Don't wanna crush you, Pretty Boy."

Steve urged, tugging Billy harder, "What a way to go."

Billy's laugh felt different close up, and his beard was softer than it looked, tickling Steve's face. His kiss was hot, and he sank into Steve like a hot knife through butter.

Steve was used to having to work himself up, he forgot what a revelation it was to just kiss. They rolled around together like they invented it, gasping at tugging nips and sucked tongues like they had never done this shit before.

Billy cradled his face like he was trying to memorize it, barely even dry humping him.

And Steve was losing it a little, because the boyfriend experience never felt like this. Never felt like years of knowledge and a "be brave, shitbird."

Never like this.

He undressed Billy like his life depended on it, running his hands up and down Billy's scars and feeling like he could cry, or laugh or something. Somehow, Billy was now the slow one, holding him carefully, like Steve might break. And Steve was the animal, the cyclone, kissing Billy hard, rubbing up on him like a cat in heat.

Because it was Billy, Billy Hargrove, and he was murmuring about honey and sweetheart, and he was begging Steve in soft words to just, "let me take care of you, that's all I want. Want to wrap those legs around my head and drown in 'ya, Harrington."

Steve shook his head, trembling when Billy rolled his hands around Steve's cock through the shorts, pulling Billy closer with his legs.

"I'm ready," Steve whispered, "Want you inside of me. Please, Billy, let's not wait."

"M'Pretty Boy," Billy whispered back, sounding tortured. His brows were drawn up as if in pain, and he cradled Steve's cheek in one hand.

"Billy," Steve pulled Billy back by that long gorgeous hair, "Just fuck me. Please, God, I really want you to fuck me, please."

Billy had a slightly troubled look, but he nodded, tugging at Steve's shorts with gentle hands, chuckling softly when Steve reaches down and yanks them off roughly, losing them in the rumpled bed instantly.

Steve just rolled his legs up, not wanting to part before he gets into position and-

"Condoms," Billy gasped, his eyes jolting to Steve's face.

"Yes... fuck... sorry, yes, I have some, they're on the nightstand."

It's like dousing them both with ice water. Billy pulls back, looking at Steve and then looking down.

They sit there a moment.

"I want you to know," Billy said in a cracked voice after a long pause, his back to Steve. "I'm not a creep. I haven't thought of you in... in a long time. I don't like... hire guys and make them pretend to be you or nothing like that. I just..."

Steve waits, just listening. After a while he reaches a hand out and putting it on Billy's shoulder, rubbing slightly.

"I'm not a creep. I'm not gonna follow you home and t-throw you in a trunk or something-"

"Stop," Steve said, rubbing Billy's back in slow circles. "I don't think that."

"I just mean.... I'll pay," Billy said it gruffly, "If you have another client tonight, you gotta rush, that's ok. But if you have the night, I'll pay."

Steve looks down, catching a glimpse of Billy's hands, tangled together in his lap, holding the condom that he grabbed from the bedside table. He's just as beautiful as he used to be, maybe more so. He's got a layer of fat over his muscles that makes him look softer, his hair is long and soft, and even the beard, it takes away all his rough edges.

"I don't have to rush," Steve said. "Why'd you have me dress up, Billy?"

"I just saw someone, the other day. Been seeing him. In Venice. This guy, he's always wearing these loose robes and he hangs out on his balcony in the morning," Billy bit his lip, "Sometimes with a blonde guy. Boyfriend or something. Anyway, he kinda looks like you. And my boyfriend dumped me like a year ago, because I'm still a total freakshow. Issues on issues on issues. So I thought, fuck it. Why don't I just... be the freakshow I am."

"You're not a freakshow."

Billy chuckles, "Trust me. I am. Pining after a high school... nothing. You didn't even like me."

"I-"

"Don't pretend," Billy looks at him, eyes glistening, "Don't you bullshit me, Harrington."

"I'm not," Steve says, heart in his throat. "I'm not bullshitting. Haven't been from the moment you walked in here."

Billy says nothing, just looking at him.

"I don't have to rush," Steve shook his head. "And if tomorrow, you just leave, and there's money on the stand... that's totally cool. But I'm rushing because... because..."

Billy just watches. Listens.

"Because I'm really glad to see you again, Billy. Really glad. And I wouldn't mind," Steve steels himself for rejection, sucking in a breath. "Seeing you after tonight."

Billy's brow furrows, and he looks down at his hands again.

"Like... maybe for real. And I can wear actual clothes. And no one has to pay anyone. And I'll know who you are. You'll know who I am. And I'll take you back to Venice to meet my roommate, who you already fucking know, I think."

Billy's blinking hard, and it takes Steve a moment to realize he's crying.

"Billy," He whispers, "Honey. Sweetheart."

Billy reaches out and cradles Steve's cheeks, pulling him into his lap and then into a kiss.

"I don't think you're a creep, Billy," Steve wraps his legs around Billy, and holds him safe and warm, "I know you. I know you."

Billy makes a wounded noise, like he doesn't know if that's a good or a bad thing. But then he starts running his hands down Steve's chest, tugging on his chest hair and rolling his nipples between his fingers, and Steve goes kind of cock dumb and wild again, rolling his hips, seeking to get closer. He wants Billy to press him to the bed, crush him with his weight.

It's just a happy blur, punctuated by moments of crystal clear sweetness. Billy presses his cock inside of Steve after a long, leisurely, lovely trip between Steve's legs. It turns out his tongue really is magic like the girls used to write on the bathroom walls. Steve's heart is beating like a jackhammer and he's sweating like he did so long ago in high school, his hair flopping in his face as Billy drives into him hard.

"You used to look so fuckin' cute in these little shorts," Billy growled, "Put them on again. Wanna push them to the side, get you all fucked out and gorgeous. Want you to cum in them, pressed all up against the waistband."

And maybe Jason's rubbing off on Steve because he does, slides the somewhat wrecked shorts over his sweaty ass and flops back on the bed. He practically presents his ass on a Hawkins green platter, moaning all slutty.

"Used to dream about them every night," Billy rubs him through the shorts, "Used to think about you in the hospital. When you would wear that fucking family video vest and come drive Max. You got me through physical therapy."

Steve looked over his shoulder, still working his ass back on Billy's cock, "I still have the vest."

"Fuck... fuck..." Billy actually covers his face with his hands, "Is this real? This is real right, not fake bullshit?"

Steve's literally got a cock in his ass, and it's normally not how he does stuff, but he looks back, because seriously?

"Billy. I said I wanna see you? I like you? Now can you please keep fucking me, I'm so close."

Billy finally smiles that smile, that devilish grin, "At your service, Sweetheart."

And then he rocks his hips up and back in a way that presses right against that sweet spot that makes Steve see stars. He cums so hard it does soak into the shorts like Billy said, and Billy rubs it in messily, groaning and pressing his head to Steve's back.

Steve goes boneless on the bed, not even moving when Billy pulls his softening cock out and gets up.

There's a moment when Steve's heart skips a beat that he thinks Billy's gonna slap down an envelope of cash and ask him to leave. And that would be fine. Could be totally fine.

But instead he tugs the covers back and helps Steve under, wrapping his arms around Steve and holding him close to his heart.

"You meant that, about seeing me again?" Billy says softly.

"Yeah, weren't you listening?" Steve plays with the silver medallion that hangs across Billy's collarbone.

"Yeah, I was listening," Billy kisses Steve's temple softly, and Steve's heart flutters like a cartoon duck. "How about we start with breakfast tomorrow. I got a good amount, let's give someone the tip of their life. And I think you need waffles. Pancakes. Whatever the hell you want."

Normally, Steve would call bullshit. But Billy's got a Cartier tank ticking where he tucks a sweaty lock behind Steve's ear. And he knows Billy. He trusts him.

Steve tugs on the necklace until Billy gets the hint and draws him into another filthy kiss.

Steve's normally a pretty good hooker. He's not looking for a Pretty Woman ending.

But it turns out he's a bit of a sucker for the boyfriend experience.

---

This got WAY long. I'll proably put it up on ao3. @intothedysphoria and @dragonflylady77 be proud of me plz.

#asks #harringrove #my writing #shieldofiron #SW Steve Harrington #Billy Hargrove #Billy x Steve #Steve x Billy #bratty steve harrington #bear billy hargrove #otter steve harrington

[runninriot]

...✍️

Eddie releases Steve’s skin, proudly admiring the imprint of his own teeth on his boyfriend's shoulder.

   “You gonna behave like a good boy now or are you going to keep kicking me like an ungrateful little brat?”

   “Depends.” Steve turns his head to look at Eddie over his shoulder. There's something wild and ravenous in his eyes, a kind of playful provocation in his expression that catches Eddie's attention.

“Are you going to keep biting me like a dog or are you going to fuck me like a man?”

Oh no he didn't.

But he did. And the way Steve instantly tenses up tells Eddie he knows exactly that he made a mistake.

Eddie sees red. Feels a hot flush on his face and heat spreading all through his body. Feels alive, ecstatic.

God, I love him.

His boy wants to play dirty?

He's gonna regret it.

Eddie is going to destroy Steve.

He’s going to make him suffer, make him beg for forgiveness and wish he’d never tried to challenge Eddie like that. He’s going to make him cry – Steve’s so pretty when he cries.

Eddie will show him who the dog is, when he has him on all fours.

But that’ll have to wait.

He’ll teach him a lesson, exorcise the brat right out of him.

It’ll be hard for Eddie to contain himself, he knows that. It's already a fight to abstain from taking him right here, right now. But he will not give Steve what he wants even if it means his own weeping dick won't get the satisfaction of release.

At least not yet.

It's going to be so goddamn worth it.

Eddie clambers off the other man and out of bed, smiles to himself when he hears Steve’s perplexed little “Huh?“ as he picks up his clothes off the floor and begins to dress himself.

   “Eddie? What are you doing? Come back here. Please, I didn’t mean-“

Steve sits up, eyes wide in confusion, beautifully naked, his cock so pretty and hard between his thighs.

    Such a shame. What a waste, Eddie thinks regretfully.

   “I’m gonna make breakfast. Bacon and eggs sound good?” Eddie asks, a happy lilt to his voice like he’s completely unfazed by the whole situation.

He allows himself one more look, taking in all of Steve’s perfect form. Too bad he can’t punish Steve the way he wants without punishing himself. But he’s nothing if not determined. If Steve wants to be a brat, Eddie can be a stubborn little bitch too.

And Steve just stares at him, mouth hanging open like he can't believe what's happening.

Oh, this going to be so much fun.

TBYET | ao3

#eddie munson #steve harrington #bitchy eddie munson #bratty steve harrington #steddie smut #steddie fic #the best you ever tasted #wip

[malibuhabits]

it’s so funny to me that I practically vision Steve as Elin from Fucking Åmål (show me love 1998.)

Like, I can totally see the people from his school, girls and boys of all ages, just being so (almost creepily) obsessed with him; writing secret love letters abt him, cutting out his yearbook photos to carry around in their wallets without Steve’s knowledge, falling in love with him although he shows no interest whatsoever.

Everyone just being desperate for the outgoing and popular boy’s attention meanwhile he’s just bored out of his mind and wants to leave the tiny town holding him back.

WHEN IN CANON Steve can’t get one ONE!!? date. Like nooope, that just doesn’t seem like my Steve Harrington, I’m sorry.

(I do love that he’s a loser, don’t get me wrong.)

.

#steve harrington #steddie #baby girl steve harrington #stranger things #steve harrington my beloved #steve harrington fandom #steve and eddie #bi steve harrington #bratty steve harrington #steve harrington prompt

[hairmetal666]

Chapter 9 snippet, anyone?

“Y’llow,” Steve says, guessing who’s on the other end of the line. 

       Eddie groans. “Fuck you, Harrington, that’s so gross.”

       Steve laughs. “You love it.” 

       “You’re lucky you’re pretty, you know that, baby?” 

       “If you say so,” Steve flushes, something tugging hard in his stomach. 

       “Like you don’t know,” Eddie huffs. “Got a minute?”

       “Always.”

       “Got a surprise for you.”

       “For me?”

       The laugh is husky. “Yeah, baby.” 

       “Gonna make me guess or what?” Steve rolls his eyes.       

  “If you’re going to be a brat,” Eddie laughs.

Catch up on chapters 1-8 here! And lookout for a sneak peak of chapter 10 later this week

#steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #ao3fic #tis the damn season #steddie fic #teaser #bratty steve harrington #surprises #eddie munson is a shameless flirt #flustered steve harrington

[prettyboybillyhargrove]

Idk how to explain this to y'all but this is literally enough to show that he's bratty bottom pillow princess

#billy hargrove #harringrove #steve harrington #pretty bratty #bratty sub billy

[infinite-orangepeel]

don’t mind me just fantasizing about mean older daddy eddie x bratty entitled bottom steve lmk if u are also thinking about this

#def bc i read the secrets secrets update yesterday #but also i’m such an absolute sucker for bratty rich boy steve who needs to put in his place #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie brainrot #the steddie brainrot is real #steddie fics #steddie moodboard #steddie crack #steddie stranger things #joe keery #joseph quinn #fruity four #stranger things #steve x eddie #steve harrington/eddie munson #the babygirlification of steve harrington #baby girl steve harrington #daddy eddie munson

[scoops-aboy86]

Obsessed with the idea of working at scoops ahoy causing Steve’s weight gain. Maybe Eddie comes into the store at some point

Oh hell yeah, it’s such a goldmine of opportunities. 

Does Steve start snacking on purpose or does it creep up on him over time, during the slow hours when the only so-called customers are Erica Sinclair and her sampling horde? Is it the cold, thick ice cream that calls to him? Nibbles of toppings? The crunch of an empty cone that broke in the bag and it’s just going to go to waste otherwise? I think we all know he’d eat the bananas, they’re fruit and therefore healthy and therefore he can have as many as he wants. 

Or… (Brace yourself for 4067 words, 1k for every day this sat in my inbox. 😅)

Eddie has resorted to entering the mall for its air conditioning, and stays for the music selection in the Sam Goody. He’s about to leave when he passes Scoops Ahoy, and—is that King Steve? Oh, he has to go in. 

The store is otherwise quiet, and Steve’s coworker that Eddie vaguely recognizes from school is hanging out the window behind the counter, accepting a free employee’s cone that Steve has just scooped for her. “I can’t believe you eat so much of this stuff,” Steve is saying, and Eddie is surprised to hear a lot more genuine confusion than derision in his tone. 

“It’s ice cream, Steven,” the girl retorts, rolling her eyes. “Pretty sure it’s universally beloved by anyone who can stomach dairy or has ever experienced a heat wave.”

“It’s pure sugar,” Steve protests. “You’re going to get hyper and crash in an hour or two, and then you’ll be cranky while we’re closing up again.”

“That’s the plan, dingus,” she says with bright sarcasm, and takes an exaggerated lick of her cone before rocking backwards and snapping the window shut. 

And well. What is Eddie to do with King Steve’s apparent disdain for ice cream but dare him to eat some? He’ll let Steve pick his own favorite flavor, he’s not an animal, but— “Well well, I see how it is, Harrington. You’ll sell it but you won’t eat it? I’m pretty sure that’s negative advertising. Should I maybe… tell the manager?”

Steve whips around, and puts his hands on his hips that reminds Eddie terrifyingly of his gym teacher… who, now that he thinks about it, also coaches the basketball team, he’s pretty sure. Hilarious. 

“The manager isn’t even here today,” Steve snaps. 

“Oh, I could come back,” Eddie says with a smirk, and leans against the glass case to look him dead in the eye. “Whatcha got against the ice cream here, huh? Is it not very good?”

The jock pinches the bridge of his nose, another look he swears he’s seen in response to his forced attempts at sportsball over the past five years. “Jesus Christ,” Steve mutters, and pulls his ice cream scoop from his side holster with a little spin to get it in the ready position—what the hell, people can actually do shit like that in real life? “Please tell me you’ll go away if I give you a free cone.”

“I’ll go away if you eat a free cone,” Eddie shoots back. 

“Fine. Whatever.” Steve slides one of the back panels on the display case open and digs a scoop out of the tub of chocolate ice cream, grabbing a cone to plop it into. 

“Two scoops,” Eddie prods, amazed that it’s turning out this easy and amazed again when Steve just rolls his eyes and does it. “And I’ll hang around for a bit to make sure you don’t cheat.”

“Munson, I swear to god—”

Eddie flutters his eyelashes and slaps a hand to his own cheek. “Oh heavens,” he exclaims in a bad falsetto, “King Steve remembers my name, I might faint!”

Watching Steve bite and try to swallow as much of his reluctant treat as possible to get it done and Eddie gone faster is a spectacle only made better by the brain freeze visibly hitting Steve a second later. 

The next day Eddie goes back and half annoys, half challenges Steve into eating another ice cream treat. Robin, the coworker, thinks it’s hysterical and even helps him badger Steve into doing it. She gives Eddie a high five and, the following day when he comes back and does it again, introduces him to the You Rule You Suck board. She marks another two ticks in the latter column, one for each scoop. 

It’s six days of this in a row before Steve seems to realize how committed Eddie is to the bit. As soon as Eddie comes into the ice cream parlor on the seventh day, Steve just starts automatically preparing himself a two scoop cone of chocolate ice cream while scowling at him. 

So, on that seventh day, Eddie gives it a rest and actually orders something for once: a scoop of orange berry sherbet in a cup. Robin gets it for him and he accepts it with a bow, letting his change slide into the tip jar for the entertainment. “Thanks,” he says with a grin. “Don’t like ice cream much myself, but sherbet always hits the spot.”

Steve crunches loudly on the last of his cone and pushes his way into the back room to sulk his way through his fifteen minute break. 

And Eddie keeps coming back, because he’s grown to appreciate Steve and Robin’s idle banter in between customers—though his official reason is to mooch off the mall’s AC. Steve treats him more like a pest than a freak, which is. Refreshing? It’s something, anyway, Eddie thinks. Can’t quite decide if it’s amusing or annoying, so he sticks around to find out. And to check out the royal ass in those little shorts, thank you corporate America. 

Within a few weeks, Eddie has gotten used to planning his campaigns in a cool and only slightly sticky environment on a daily basis and also witnessed Steve interacting with his brood of young teens. (The hands on hips comes out again. Pinching the bridge of his nose with a heavy sigh keeps making repeat appearances. Threats with no actual weight behind them are made. Eddie isn’t quite sure how he feels about Steve reacting to him the same way he does a bratty gaggle of incoming freshmen, but it is also so funny to watch and then needle him about with Robin.) And Steve has started eating ice cream of his own accord. 

“Whatever,” Steve grumbles when rudely confronted by this fact, which happens every other day or so; Eddie and Robin take turns. He adds a third scoop to his cone without even seeming to think about it. “Everybody loves ice cream.”

Gradually, Eddie’s interest in Steve has shifted. He still gives the guy a hard time, all grins and theatrics and toeing the line, but the King—former King, really, since high school, for Steve, is over and Eddie and Robin have both personally witnessed some of his spectacular flops in the flirting department that really drive that fact home—is actually not that bad. A lot of the popular jock swagger is gone, replaced by tolerant exasperation and a sarcastic, delightfully bitchy streak that Eddie just loves to poke at. 

But more than just that, there’s… more of Steve. The ice cream floodgates have opened, and Eddie has definitely noticed the way Steve’s little sailor shorts showcase his imminently grabbable ass better by the day. Every part of Steve is looking a little softer, Eddie can tell through his shirt that he’s getting a little belly, and there is nothing the metalhead wants more than to touch. 

It’s becoming a problem, actually. He watches Steve lick at an ice cream cone every day and, increasingly, the image is burning itself into his brain. Eddie didn’t ask for this, doesn’t necessarily think getting so attached is a good development, for his reputation or his sanity, but that doesn’t stop him from picturing it at night. 

So sue him, Steve is pretty and Eddie is a young gay man with a healthy sex drive and a strong right hand. And it gets a workout aaaaaall summer.

By the end of August, they’re actually kind of friends. Steve is locking up Scoops after a long, grueling solo shift because Robin had called out with a summer cold. Eddie helps, because yeah he’s not an employee but he’s been hanging around long enough to know how to do it all, and Steve… Steve gets a bit winded these days, if he has to do it all by himself. 

It had taken him a while to size up from his first uniform, belly and more than a few stretch marks peeking a little out the bottom before finally giving in and putting in the request. By the time the replacement finally arrived the blue sailor shirt kept riding up by a good fraction of an inch, and Eddie’s cue to realize he was staring again had come every time Steve tried to pull it back down, or hike up his straining shorts in an unsuccessful attempt to split the difference… So, basically, any time Steve wasn’t behind the counter, because it happened constantly. And then he’d be staring again by the time it happened again a few minutes later. Probably would have been less stressful to just keep looking. 

Even with the resized uniform, and the next, Steve kept eating ice cream without any sign of regrets or second thoughts. He was up to three or four cones a shift now, one right after clocking in and the rest timed to just before predictable busy hours so he could ride the sugar high through the turbulent waters of food court customer service. Three scoop minimum, with a constantly revolving selection of toppings and more often than not in one of the big cones that came pre-dipped in chocolate and rainbow sprinkles. 

But always chocolate ice cream, though, same as Eddie always getting his scoop of sherbet in a cup. 

“No accounting for taste,” Eddie sighs as Steve hands him his usual as a thank you for helping and starts scooping himself an all chocolate ice cream banana split. 

“Excuse you, Munson, chocolate is a classic,” Steve retorts, barely glancing up. “It’s chocolate. Everybody’s heard of it. Who’s heard of orange berry sherbet?”

“You literally sell it for a living.”

“Mostly only to you.” Ice cream acquired, Steve turns to the side counter and starts adding whipped cream and various toppings. “I mean, regular orange sherbet was my grandad’s favorite. You, Eddie Munson, have grandpa taste.”

Eddie slaps one hand over his heart, while the other (the one with more rings) clacks dramatically against the display glass. “Excuse you, what about me says grandpa to you? Is it the long, dark hair? My dexterous and nimble musician’s fingers? The very youthful twinkle in my eye?!”

“I literally just told you it’s your taste in ice cream,” Steve replies, with maraschino cherries rounding out his already round cheek and a bitchy roll of his eyes. 

Despite being annoyed, the sight swamps Eddie with a now familiar feeling of wanting to grab Steve by the face and, just. Aggressively make out with him. Taste that sticky red fruit on his tongue. Feel how soft he is, all that extra padding around his middle, how increasingly heavy that belly rests on his thighs throughout the journey from empty to full. 

All of which is crazy, because it’s Steve Harrington, Hawkin High’s golden boy athlete. And yet. 

Since the tables have all been wiped down already, Steve waves for Eddie to follow him into the employees only area. He’s been back there before but tonight he’s surprised to see several tubs of ice cream crowding the break table. “Oh. I thought you tossed the empty tubs out earlier…”

“They’re not empty,” Steve says simply, settling into the nearest chair with a huff like it’s a relief to sit down. Which Eddie can believe, from the way he’s a little bit flushed. And then, then, Steve hooks his thumbs into the waistband of his shorts and tugs them down to let his belly out over the top of them, digs a hand in to dig the bottom of it out. Breathing room. And it’s necessary, is the thing, because there are indented red lines on his skin from where the seams have been pressing. Eddie is staring, and he knows that Steve knows—is pretty sure, suddenly, that Steve wants him to. When his eyes flick up to the other boy’s soft face and the smug little smile there, Steve winks and gives his belly a pat. “I'm empty, though. These should be melted enough for you to pour for me by now. You want to, don’t you?”

“Uh,” Eddie says. Simultaneously, his throat has gone desert-dry and his mouth fills with spit. He has never wanted to bite someone more than he does right now. “Yeah?”

The grin widens cockily, and Steve slouches in his chair a bit, spreading his legs and letting his belly drop between them to put himself even more on display. “I knew it,” he crows, digging a spoon into his banana split to load up the opening salvo. “I knew you were watching me. It’s the shorts, right? They make my ass look great.”

And wow, the sheer amount of ice cream and banana he crams in his mouth belies his own words, hazel eyes flashing as if challenging Eddie not to look at his lips with their sheen of lip gloss and melted ice cream, the way he licks the spoon to make sure he’s gotten every last trace of chocolate and whipped cream. Telegraphing, I know it’s not just the shorts.

Eddie swallows hard and tries not to grind his teeth because, yeah. Urge to bite. “I’m, uh, not going to tell you. Wouldn’t want to inflate your big head any more… Not when your eyes are already that much bigger than your stomach.” He waves vaguely at the tubs on the table. “These are three gallon tubs, man. Even mostly empty, there must be at least a gallon of melted ice cream here, on top of everything you’ve put away today.” 

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” Steve scoffs. The second spoonful is already passing his plush lips before Eddie can reply, eyes glued to the way they pucker around the metal as he draws it out slowly, once again clean. There’s a single dribble of chocolate running down his chin, though, reaching and dripping from the suggestion of a second one onto the front of his sailor shirt… the shirt that will have to be sized up again soon, a testament to just how big Steve’s stomach really is.

“Wait,” he sputters, brain catching up to Steve’s words, “wouldn’t be… What?”

So Steve explains that, after Eddie had first goaded him into eating ice cream at work, it had truly hit him for the first time how much ice cream Scoops Ahoy’s company policy had them throwing out at the end of each day. He’d started with just finishing off the scraps of chocolate left at the bottom of a mostly empty tub on one of the maybe once a month occasions he got stuck closing up alone. The next time there hadn’t been any almost-done chocolate slated for the dumpster out back, so instead he’d stirred chocolate sauce into the softening Cookies N Cream until it better suited his taste buds. 

And he’d liked it. The ice cream itself, of course, but also the tight, intense feeling in his stomach that came with being overly full. 

So, since he didn’t close up solo very often, he’d started sneaking a tub or two out to his car when he could get away with it. The contents would always melt before he got home, and since he didn’t have unlimited chocolate sauce on hand there…

“...I’ve ended up expanding my horizons.” Steve winks. “Among other things. There’s something really freeing about getting all sticky on your own kitchen floor, you know?”

Eddie is still standing, holding his cup of sherbet and mouth dropped open while he processes this. Of course he’d known that Steve had to be aware, on some level, of what he was doing to himself… but this is so closely aligned with his own secret fantasies that he can’t help but suspect it’s some sort of trick. An elaborate trap designed to definitively out him as a freak. He narrows his eyes, then stalks forward to further investigate the tubs, trying to ignore the hard-on forming in his jeans. There’s Vanilla Chip, USS Butterscotch, Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough, Cinnabon Swirl, and something he thinks might be Cherries Jubilee with most of the cherry parts already scooped out. 

“You don’t like any of these flavors,” he accuses, crossing his arms and leveling a stare at Steve, trying really hard to convey more skepticism than lust. “You hate anything but chocolate, even if it’s something else and chocolate. I actively judge you for it on a daily basis.”

Steve shrugs. “Drinking it is different from eating it.”

Which, okay, makes some sense, Eddie supposes, but that makes no sense. Neither does the concept of Steve Harrington chugging ice cream straight from the tub on the floor of his fancy rich boy kitchen, smeared in chocolate like a pig rolled in mud, maybe with his uniform stripped off the second he got home because it was getting too tight, or because he wanted to watch himself expand with each greedy gulp—

Eddie takes a deep breath and gets ahold of himself before he resorts to jamming his hand down his pants and… getting ahold of himself. He just has one more question, and if that checks out then he’s going for it. “How much weight have you gained since you took this job, Steve?”

Steve gives him an exact answer, down to one decimal point and Eddie is already stalking forward, putting his forgotten, melting cup of sherbet down and grabbing the nearest tub.

It pours nice and smooth over Steve’s lips, down his throat, and into a bottomless pit apparently from the way he never signals to pause or slow down. He just keeps gulping it down, moaning when the chocolate from the Vanilla Chip avalanche down from where it was all piled at the bottom into his mouth. When it’s cookie dough pieces that takes him a little longer to get through, and he returns to bites of his banana split between mouthfuls. Streaks of pale cream line his neck, beading in the chest hair just barely peeking out the top of his shirt like he’s begun sweating cream, and while chugging he increasingly often has a free hand rubbing tight circles over his stomach. 

He breaks away from the rim of the last tub with a gasp. The last thick dribbles of USS Butterscotch splatters on his cheek from Eddie’s attempt to shake whatever’s left out. “So full,” he slurs, looking up at Eddie from beneath heavy eyelids. 

And then he pushes past it, ignores whatever signals his stuffed gut is trying to send him, all his attention rerouted into sluggishly cramming the last of the banana split in his mouth. 

Eddie drops the empty tub to the floor and lurches forward to lick sloppily at the other boy's cheek, at his chin, at his neck. A ringed hand brushes over the swollen belly between them, only for Steve to grab on and guide him to press harder, explore his waist and love handles. Then they’re kissing, both of their faces sticky with sugar and dairy, and Steve tastes like the inside of a honey pot, he’s so sweet. 

It’s not just the way he tastes. Steve’s pupils are blown, reactions slow as he kisses back lazily but with a happy hum. Eddie wonders if he would even be able to get up right now, with so much inside him. 

“Can’t believe you,” Eddie marvels, nipping at slick lips. “Can’t believe you like this—” he gets his fingers up Steve’s shirt and drags it up to knead at the padded suggestion of ribs, at softened, hairy pecs that are just as sensitive as Eddie had dreamed, from the whine he gets from just a testing squeeze “—so fucking much, but you do, don’t you sweetheart?” 

He drops his touch down to the straining arch of Steve’s belly and feels the underside of it, lifting a little, testing; even being careful, he jars a string of breathy hiccups loose. “Edd—hic—ieee,” Steve whines, trying to squirm, trying to press into his touch, but can barely manage anything before he has to stop and catch his breath. “‘M so…”

“Is that why you’re such a brat all the time, Steve, because you’re hungry?” Eddie coos. He leans in to kiss him again, then drops to his knees. “All I have to do to make you docile is fill you up. Takes a while, but.” He slaps the plump roll spilling over the side of Steve’s shorts, surprising a burp followed by a groan out of him this time. “Well worth the wait, big boy.”

At which Steve giggles, and mumbles something that sounds like an echo of ‘wait,’ but Eddie’s not sure of the spelling. 

“If you’ll pardon the pun,” he adds dryly, and grins when that gets him another giggle. “Well spotted, Stevie.”

And then, because Eddie figures that he has been admirably patient up to this point, wriggles his way into the blue sailor shorts straining before him for his treat. With Steve’s ragged moans of yes and fuck and Eds ringing in his ears right up until Steve’s thick thighs clamp around his head in the ecstasy of orgasm, and it’s worth it. 

The wet stain seeping through the front of Eddie’s jeans proves it. 

He helps a very dazed, very sated Steve clean up after—though, honestly, Eddie does almost all the work. (Steve slurps down his little cup of melted sherbet no problem though, smiling serenely as Eddie gives his still exposed belly an approving slap.)

“You okay to drive home, man?”

Steve hums, then yawns—giving himself a third chin for a second there. “‘M not sure if I’m good to stand up,” he admits. “‘Sfine, I can sleep here…”

Eddie rolls his eyes and grabs both the other boy’s hands. “Oh no you don’t. If you stay, some security guard is going to find you here looking like a stowaway on the Good Ship Lollipop, and we can’t have that. I’ll give you a ride, come on—up on three. One, two… two and a half…”

Fifteen minutes later he hustles a slow-moving Steve into the back of his van, where the guy can at least lay down and stretch out while his body attempts to digest. And Eddie wonders—is this what he’s become? Spending his entire summer at the mall palling around with the former King of Hawkins High, filling said dude full as a tick exactly once and getting them both off in the process, and then driving him home like a nice boy at the end of a respectable date? 

No one has called Eddie a nice boy since approximately kindergarten, and respectable probably never. But he glances over his shoulder to see his stuffed and sleepy sailor boy cuddled up under the blanket he keeps back there in case of emergencies, knows that beneath it Steve is still spilling out of his shorts because once undone they’d been impossible to zip and button up again, and feels… something at the look of utter contentment on his face. Something that’s been growing in him for a while, if he’s being honest with himself, intertwined with every sardonic comment and light ribbing at Steve’s expense. And Steve always gives as good as he gets—except tonight, when he’d just let Eddie take and take, letting go completely. They could be good together, Eddie thinks; especially since what they each want seems to mesh so well.

Steve has already been wearing the results of this particular brand of hedonism for months now, so maybe he won’t even regret it come morning. 

Maybe if Eddie leaves his number after getting Steve home (probably only as far as the couch, for simplicity’s sake), Steve will call. 

They can hang out somewhere outside of Scoops Ahoy, maybe even call it a date. Maybe Steve will let Eddie feed him sweet nothings under the stars and smile that sweet little smile at him again when he gets full, all happiness and trust. It’s a heady prospect, one that knocks Eddie’s dumb heart for a loop just considering it. 

He ends up parking in the woods just a short walk from Steve’s house and crawling in the back of the van with him. One quick change into an emergency pair of clean boxers (he keeps a lot of stuff back there in case of emergencies, okay?) and he makes himself comfortable as the big spoon to Steve’s invitingly cuddly form. 

And wonders, as he dozes off, what they’ll do for breakfast. 

Permanent tag list: @hotluncheddie

#wg steddie #chubby steve harrington #feedee steve harrington #feeder eddie munson #scoops steve #scoops words #ask #bratty steve harrington is bratty… right up until he’s full and ready to pop

[sunflowerharrington]

Say You’re Fucking Sorry

🧸 steve harrington x gn!reader (all inclusive)

🧸 steve puts you in your place after you did something bad OR steve tames his little brat after they spilled a milkshake on nancy and didn’t apologize

🧸 smut, minors dni, 18+, orgasm denial, brat taming, reader’s a bit bratty, ass slapping, tears, (the gif makes sense at the end), angry!steve, dark!steve, bratty!reader

🧸 @myobmaya @steveslittlesunflower @quickiesgirl @eddiebillysteve @thisishellfire @friendly-neighborhood-ghoul @hellfirehaley @taecube @wzrlds @gods-favorite-asthmatic @eddies-bat let me know if you wanna be added or taken off, my lovelies 💋

listen, i’m into the idea of steve fucking his partner in school/college/uni and not letting them cum after they did something bad. giving them false hope. that kinda deal. but what if i took that and added brat taming to the mix? that’s this fic right here, your honour

“m’ very fucking disappointed in you, baby.” his voice made you jump, and you looked at him standing in the doorway leaning against the door frame.

“i- i didn’t mean it! it was just banter…” you trailed off, pouting your bottom lip slightly, gasping quite loudly as he pounced on you, pinning you down onto the common room’s sofa.

“you seriously think throwing a milkshake at somebody is funny, hmm? you’re worse than i thought,” he chuckled darkly.

nobody had been in sight for hours, so steve knew he’d have you all to himself.

“stevie…”

“i was gonna make love to you today, but you don’t deserve that. so i’m gonna fuck you until you are genuinely sorry, and then you’ll wish you never spilled that milkshake on nance,” his voice was lower, raspier than usual. and you wanted to get drunk on that sound. “this is all on you, sweetheart.”

“oh what, you like nance more?” you scoffed, turning away from him with an eye roll. “nancy, nancy, everything these days has to do with nancy fucking wheeler, doesn’t it— oh god! steve!”

a harsh slap to the ass made you wince, as did his fingers which roughly pulled at your chin to make you look at him. “stevie, i— i’m sorry.”

“face down ass up, right now,” he ordered, smacking your ass when you didn’t listen the second time. “i said; face. down. ass. up. right now.”

“i’m sorry, daddy! i’m so sorry!”

he scoffed, slapping your ass twice as hard this time, making you yelp. “im sorry, im so so sorry daddy,” he mocked, a smirk plastering across his face as he watched a tear roll down your cheek from the pain. “yeah baby, you’ll be fucking sorry in a minute.”

he shed his clothes, kicking them into a pile before ripping your clothes off. literally.

“what are you gonna—? oh shit!” you shouted, eyes widening as a large hand muffled your screams.

“swearing now too, baby? oh my little dove, i knew you wouldn’t listen from the first time i told you to stop.”

you winced as he roughly thrusted into you, balls deep inside you one go, with your face pressed into the sofa cushions.

he saw that you were trying to muffle your moans, so he grabbed your head by your hair and pulled you up, pulling out to flip you onto your back before roughly grabbing your hips and thrusting back in, this time at an alarmingly fast rate.

“you’re a shit fuck, steve,” you blurted, your stomach dropping when he stopped.

they were your words. not his. not anybody else’s. this was on you. “i- i didn’t mean— ow! stevie, that one hurt!” it did. you almost screamed your safe word.

“i don’t care. for god’s sake, keep your ass up!”

and of course, as always when you misbehaved, he didn’t let you cum. and he didn’t think you deserved his either. “you’ve made me very very angry, baby. ‘need me to get the boys in to sort you out since you said i can’t do it? that i’m not good enough?”

“i’m sorry!”

“i’m not the one you should be fucking saying sorry to right now, y/n. i’m not done with you yet, you can apologize to me later, but you need to get that fine ass to nancy’s and apologize to her. say you’re fucking sorry, and don’t make me ask you to do it twice.”

“yes daddy,” you whispered, pulling your short skirt and tight shirt back on. no bra, no panties. every way steve liked it. he loved showing off his girl, even when she misbehaved.

and he secretly hoped that was filmed on the college security cameras. he’d ask for a separate tape of that. it would become his favorite movie… other than that homemade one where he gagged you with your panties and fucked you into oblivion while your parents were in the next room. or that other one you filmed in the back room at scoops ahoy where he ate freezing cold ice cream off your body only for robin to walk in and catch him, slapping your ass every time “you” moved the camera.

“good girl. that wasn’t that hard, now, was it?”

then he got changed and left the room to finish the job on his own, while you, with shaky legs, left the school and drove to nancy’s house to apologize.

#stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington #st smut #smut #stranger things smut #steve harrington x you #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x reader smut #allllll the smut #dark!steve harrington #mean!steve harrington #bratty reader

[steve-thehair-mamabear]

I love how we have collectively decided that Steve is, without a doubt, the Steddie bottom.

The power of queer hive mind.

#when do we agree on anything? #steddie #steve harrington #bottom steve harrington #eddie munson #top eddie munson #stranger things #steve harrington smut #eddie munson smut #st4 #its cool to be queer #bi boys in love #i said what i said #queer #steve/eddie #bottom supremacy though #eddie is the definition of a service top #service top eddie munson #bratty bottom steve harrington #bratty bottom #my oc #500+

[harmonictechnicality]

Steve getting pouty and annoyed that he has no cute pet names to call Eddie because Eddie already calls him every single pet name that exists, is my *favorite* headcanon.

#steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #it’s so bratty but also so sweet

[genyasglockk]

eddie hated steve harrington. he was a rich asshole that picked on eddie and his friends and really anybody who wasn't a part of his clique. he wore stupid preppy clothes and played basketball and was on the swim team and liked to walk out of the lockeroom still shirtless because he knew girls would stare. he knew he was pretty. he was pretty and lean and he had moles all across his back and his waist was small and eddie hated him. hated how he let his jeans ride low on his hips sometimes. low enough to see his dark happy trail. he hated the curve of his neck when he leaned his head back and he hated how his adam's apple bobbed when he swallowed. he hated the way his lips were so pink and his eyes were so big and how his hair was long enough to grab a handful of and just pull. he hated how fucking mean steve harrington was bc he always felt a bit lightheaded when steve would shove him against a locker and lean in close to whisper vile things to him. he'd lean in so close that eddie could feel his breath and see just how pronounced his cupids bow really was.

he hated him bc eddie would daydream about what it would be like to put steve harrington in his place and make him squirm. steve was so mean and pretty and spoiled and eddie just wanted to hurt and kiss him till he behaved and shut the fuck up.

#stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie #ao3 #i love sweet steve but i also adore bratty steve bc he's bitchy and eddie would just be itching to get his hands on him

[malibuhabits]

helloooo! another snippet from my 90’s fame au. find me on ao3 @ chevymalibu and read the tags and notes carefully!

DEAD ASLEEP (Dreaming Away Your Life)

Once dressed in his new underwear and jeans, Eddie walks barefoot towards the light gray backdrop that has people bustling around it, testing lights and cameras and other tools like their lives depend on it. He sees Vickie having a conversation with a tall and freckled girl, and since the tiny but terrifying redhead is mad at him for once again being a horrible client, he chooses to let them talk and keeps to himself. Just standing there in his boring clothes, wishing he was drinking in his hotel room instead.

He doesn't get to be alone for long, as he never gets these days, Phil already joining him with-

Okay, wow.

Steve Harrington.

Listen. Of course Eddie is familiar with him. The whole globe has been obsessed with the face that’s launched countless luxury brands and magazine covers.

Still, seeing him in real life… nothing could’ve prepared Eddie to the vision.

Thin, bony, and angular, a bit hunchbacked, beauty marks all over untainted skin. Sharp jawline, pretty pink dusting cheeks, unintentionally pouty lips. And that chestnut hair’s just as fluffy and impressive as it’s famous for.

But it’s the eyes that seal the deal. Droopy, drunken and dreamy, basically pools of liquid hazel, holding the spectators charmed and spellbound.

Maybe this photoshoot won’t be such a drag after all…

“Eddie,” Phil tells him, “This is Steve. You’ll be working together in this campaign,” as if it wasn’t previously agreed upon.

They shake hands.

Steve’s is soft and undamaged like it hasn’t done manual labor once. Eddie’s hands are calloused, firm and strong. Steve wears one signet ring on his pinky, Eddie has four chunky ones. The contrast shouldn’t be as deliciously intriguing as Eddie makes it out to be.

“Hello, nice to officially meet you,” Steve says with a hint of accent. It’s light, but it’s there. And it’s unreasonably sexy.

Eddie’s is half chubbed already.

Understandably, he can’t really be blamed for putting on his most wicked grin, showing off his famous dimples and sharpening his heated eyes. See, it’s his thing, being unapologetically raunchy. It’s his brand. People love it.

Usually…

“Pleasure’s all mine baby boy, believe me,” he practically purrs, can’t help it.

Steve gives him a look, head to toe. It’s not a polite one. It’s calculated and frosty. Stand-offish.

Says something in French to Phil who quickly claps his hands like a dorky dad breaking up an argument. “Well boys, I have a few things to put in order, so warm up a little and get more comfortable. Ten minutes tops, and we’ll start with the video and move on to the photos. Sounds good?”

Eddie notices how he casually squeezes Steve’s narrow waist before leaving. He wishes he could do that too. Wishes he could touch Steve and make sure he’s real.

He’ll get the chance to. It already feels inevitable.

He rakes his eyes down Steve’s body, only now noticing that instead of blue jeans he’s wearing a satin dressing gown that’s loosely tied. Really loosely. It’s teasing, it’s a statement, and Eddie is sure there isn’t a single person in this studio who wouldn’t kill to untie the barely-there knot themselves. Nor are there many whom Steve would forbid from doing so.

When Eddie’s gaze lands back to his face, he’s pleasantly surprised to see Steve’s eyes already on him. He’s reading Eddie’s face, gorgeous eyes darting swiftly before settling and narrowing accusingly.

“Aren’t you going to apologize?”

Eddie’s eyebrows jump high in surprise and if he was intrigued before it’s nothing compared to this. He knows a spoiled brat when he sees one.

“Apologize for what, princess?”

“For being late. It’s rude you know, or did the circus you grew up in fail to teach you any manners?”

So. Not only a brat but a full-on bitch too.

And the worst thing? It’s kinda Eddie’s weakness.

Naturally he has to mock a little.

“Aren’t ya clever,” he drawls sarcastically, “were you born this witty or did daddy pay for private lessons?”

Haughty roll of eyes and an impatient sigh. “Still waiting that apology.”

continue:

#steddie #steve and eddie #steve harrington #steddie brainrot #steddie au #eddie munson #supermodel!steve #rockstar!eddie #fame au #90s au #steddie fanfiction #my writing #bratty steve harrington #snippet #famous eddie munson #steve x eddie #eddie munson and steve harrington

[cndian]

One word prompt!

My word is Alpha

“Undress,” Eddie ordered. He didn’t use his Alpha voice often outside of D&D – he thought other Alphas who used theirs all the time were massive knotheads, frankly – but this omega was a bit of a spoiled brat, and Eddie liked the way it made him shudder in excitement before following the command. A haughty look was thrown his way, along with a confident hair flip, which just made him laugh.

#eddie munson #steddie #steve harrington #steve x eddie #batty4steddie #ficlet #stranger things #drabble #writing prompt #writing game #omegaverse #alpha!eddie #omega!steve #bratty sub steve

[prettyboybillyhargrove]

BATS AND AXES

Warning: porn without plot, literally porn, top Steve bottom Billy Lemon. +18. Literally 2174 words of porn. PORN. MINORS DNI.

First, there was an axe in his eyesight and there was a lot of blood. Then Steve opened his eyes and saw him. He saw Billy, standing with a big axe in hand. The exact clothes he was in when he died in the Starcourt. His chest looked scarred, probably because he was literally stabbed by a fucking monster. But he was there. And he was alive. And he was smiling down at Steve.

When he came to his senses the first thing Steve did was to take off Billy's clothes. Not saying hi, or maybe a hug or something no. He fucking started ripping off Billy’s clothes. Billy was not expecting that at all. He wasn't expecting to see anyone down there, yes, but also Steve? And him taking his clothes. No. It was not on his bucket list.

"I thought I lost you." Steve talked with his rough voice while trying to rip off Billy's tank top.

The bat attack totally affected his throat but absolutely did nothing to his body Billy though while watching Steve's body up and down. He has totally put on more muscle since Billy last saw him. He opened his mouth but closed it again. Don't know what to say. His eyes teared up when he looked at Steve's teary ones.

Without taking his eyes off from him, Steve shouted in a hoarse voice. "I thought I lost you. I thought you were dead! Why did you do it, Billy? Why did you leave me alone? Did you have to sacrifice yourself? We could have done it together. We could have beat it together!"

Billy opened his mouth to speak but he met the other boys lips instead. Rather than kissing, Steve seemed to be biting his lips in anger, with more teeth than tongue. As Steve's rough hands gripped his head, he moaned with pain and lust. He had missed this feeling so much.

Steve grabbed Billy's hair hard and pulled his head back. The blonde's lips were glistening with blood. Steve looked with anger to the other's face, not caring about his pain under his hands. "You fucking promised me you were gonna stay. You little slut. You said you're not gonna be like my parents, you said we are gonna be together forever. You said we are gonna leave that shit hole together."

With one quick move, he forced Billy onto his knees. He was looking at Steve with shock but Steve knew he was not an innocent prude. He's the best at this. Steve taught him everything he knew.

Steve opened his zipper and took off his hard dick. Billy was already salivating with the sign. He shook his hard dick in front of the blond and ordered. “Suck.”

Billy took Steve's dick in his mouth and started sucking it like his life depends on it. He missed Steve so much. He missed this so much.

Steve's hands found his hair again but he didn't force Billy, he just held them there. Billy closed his eyes and buried his nose in Steve's dark pubic hair. He smelled him with longing and Steve's dick stirred in his mouth with that. Billy moaned loudly and started sucking more sloppily.

Big hands came into his view and he closed his mouth violently. Then he raised the blonde's head up gentle but firmly and whispered. "Be quiet you whore, you're gonna get us killed in this hell hole."

Billy smirked naughtily. "Wouldn't be my first time."

"Enough." Billy felt the amusement leave his face as Steve hissed at him angrily and pushed his head back.

Steve quickly took off his pants and kneel down with a thud. He was face to face with Billy now. He started kissing him again but this time it was different. He was kissing him slowly like he was tasting his lips again. Trying to remember how they felt against his rough ones. But when they stop and start looking at each others eyes Steve quickly snapped out of it. He had a mission to do.

He pushed Billy on his back and started working on his painfully tight jeans. They were resisting staying on Billy's ass. But Steve won this race and wrestled the jeans out of his thick legs. Billy was looking thinner than he remembered.

"You're not gonna fuck me on the dirty floor of the upside down are you?" Billy asked hesitantly, not that he doesn't want it. It's been a year since they last saw each other. And he was dying for it.

"Oh, I'm gonna fuck you in every place on the fucking planet earth. I'm gonna fuck that tight hole of yours till you're a sobbing mess. I'm gonna make you my personal cumbag." Steve snarled between his teeth.

Billy was already a mess under him. His hard dick was shining with precum. He couldn't even find a word to say other than dumb moans leaving his mouth. He cried out when Steve animalistically turned his body and forced him to his hands and knees. He nearly screamed when he felt the warm spit on his rim.

They both gasped with shock when the bats began flying over their heads as they heard Billy's screams. Billy trembled with fear. Being here for so long didn't mean he wasn't afraid of them. Ever since the bats' first attack, he had escaped from them all around, hiding in the shadows, looking for a way to get the hell out of here.

Noticing the fear of the body beneath him, Steve straightened his body and placed a soft kiss on Billy's waist. Billy groaned again and the bats screamed louder, with that Steve quickly picked up the torn shirt off the floor and stuffed it into Billy’s mouth. Whispering in a dark voice. "I TOLD you to shut up slut."

Billy cried out around the tank top and arched his back more. Steve took the message and spit on his rim again. He buried his head into Billy's round ass and dip his tongue to his rim. Billy was so tight around his tongue. He moaned with the taste, he fucking missed this. He grabbed Billy's ass cheeks hard and opened him up more. His other hand slowly found his way to Billy's balls and squeezed them. Billy's dick twitched under his hand. He grabbed the cum dripping tip and slowly spread Billy's cum on his dick while his tongue was still working on opening him up.

Billy was a moaning mess under Steve. He wants to die right there like that. Steve's head between his ass cheeks and his hand on Billy's dick going up and down fast. His dick twitched again and he knew he was gonna come any second. He could feel Steve's saliva going down on his thighs and it makes all this even hotter. When he pushed his body down to Steve's hand and was ready to cum Steve's hand stayed still. He gripped the tip of Billy's dick with such force it made Billy cry. "I didn't give you permission to cum. Hold yourself or I'd hold it for you."

Steve took his hand off Billy and held his own dick. Spread Billy’s spit all around it and get into the position. He pushed himself in Billy’s tight hole with a groan. Billy whimpered and his eyes teared immediately, not because of the pain but because of how much he missed this feeling. Steve’s strong body behind him, on him, inside him. His large dick pushing his limits, opening his hole to the extreme. It was too much but not enough at the same time.

“Stevee,” he whined behind the tank top again, Steve didn’t even let him finish his word and started slamming his body to Billy’s. Billy was moaning between his pulling out and pushing ins. His thighs were shaking with pleasure, his dick was leaking uncontrollably.

Then his arms give up and he fell to the ground with a thud. Steve didn’t stop this time either. Instead, he hold Billy's belly and arched his back more. Pushed his shoulders on the ground with force. Billy’s cheek was on the ground when Steve's dick was slapping inside him rapidly. This gave him better access to fuck Billy now.

“Oh god, I fucking miss this so much.” Steve groaned while continuing his poundings. When Steve hit Billy's prostate he gave a loud cry as pleasure making his toes curl. His eyes blacked out and he started coming on his own chest. Steve followed him and he came inside Billy with a loud shout.

Billy was gonna make a comment about his voices when he realized Steve is still hard and he's still continuing fucking into him. He slowly raised his head and tapped the brunette with his head. Steve stopped a few seconds later because he was so lost in the feeling. When he stopped Billy gestured to the dirty tank top with his eyes. Steve slowly took it off and kissed his lips.

They both look at each other for a few seconds but when he felt Steve’s hard dick poking him he couldn’t help but push him back. Billy smirked with mischief in his eyes and slowly crawled on top of Steve’s lap. He arranged himself and sat on Steve’s dick like the pro he is.

Steve was ready to groan with the new feeling but Billy shut him up with his lips. He wrapped his arms around Steve's shoulders and slowly started jumping up and down. “How are you still hard, pretty boy? What were they feeding you when I was gone?”

Steve raised his head and looked at the blonde longingly. He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. He fucking missed this asshole. “I missed you, you asshole. It’s been a year and I didn’t even touch myself.”

Billy stopped for a second. He could see Steve was holding himself from tearing up. He lowered his head and kissed his chapped lips with hunger. “You missed me?”

“Yes, I fucking missed you, you shithead! We had just started dating and your dumbass decided to sacrifice yourself. Do you really think I was gonna be happy and continue living my life? forget about you? I was in pain!” Steve’s voice trembled with agony.

Now Billy was tearing up too. But he didn't stop his motion. He started jumping faster on Steve's dick as he held his broad shoulders. “I miss you too. I miss you so much, Steve. I thought I would never see you again. I was so lonely down there. I thought you would forget me. I thought you forgot me and found someone else already.”

Steve started moving his hips with Billy's rhythm too. He holds the blonde curls tightly as he slowly fucks into Billy. They were moving like one body now, merging into each other. Billy's soft dick was already hard between their bodies now. Glistening with cum and twitching with the tight friction.

He kissed Billy’s plump dried lips with hunger. “I’d never leave you. You’re my baby blue. You’re my dirty blonde. You're fucking mine, Billy Hargrove. Even if you die I’d follow you and fuck you there too.”

Billy chuckled at Steve's mouth with that. Pressed his forehead to Steve’s sweaty one. They were a disaster, dirty with sweat and dust. He started riding Steve harder and whispered to his ear. “I’m yours, Steve Harrington. And you're fucking mine.”

And one last motion they were coming together. Billy’s vision blackened with pleasure as he was coming to Steve's chest and Steve was coming inside of him for the second time.

Everything went silent for a few seconds. There were not any voices around as Steve fell on his back exhaustively and Billy followed him behind and lay on his chest. He hugged the broad chest tightly. He bited one of Steve's nipples and Steve protested lazily.

Billy smirked. While drawing imaginery circles around Steve's chest hair. "You put on some muscles I see. You became such an eye candy, I liked it. Was it all for me or?"

Steve hugged the blondes' more slimmer body. He pulled one curl out of his ocean blues and kissed his forehead. "Yeah baby all for you. But I'm seeing you are getting thinner. I don't like it."

Billy raised his eyebrows and chuckled. "We don't have many food options here, you dingus." Steve squeezed his still fat ass with the nickname. "Don't talk to daddy like that. You bratty little slut."

Billy grinded himself on Steve's dick interestingly with that. "Ohh did daddy miss his bratty sub?"

Steve smirked naughtily and bit Billy's ear playfully. "Oh absolutely I'm gonna show you how mu-"

"Bam."

They turned their lefts with shock as they heard the loud voice. There were three people watching them with wide eyes.

Eddie looked at the other two girls and whisper-shouted excitedly. "Okay are we surprised about Billy being alive or Steve fucking him? Cause I'm feeling both right now."

Tagging: @monsterpegger001 @billysahoe @memes-saved-me (let me know if you wanna be tagged)

#billy hargrove #harringrove #steve harrington #dom!steve harrington #sub!billy hargrove #top!steve #bottom!billy #also power bottom!billy #stranger things #harringrove one shot #steve x billy #billy x steve #billy hargrove smut #steve harrington smut #dom steve #bratty sub billy #harringrove fic #st4 #stranger things season 4 #stranger things 4 #dacre montgomery #joe keery #crocus writes🖋️ #steve harrington x billy hargrove #harringrove au #harringrove ficlets

[sugurusprettygf]

I’d do anything for more bottom Eddie content tbh we’re dry over here

#i swear he’s a bratty chaotic bottom #but y’all don’t wanna listen #eddie munson #steddie #steveddie #steve harrington

[sunflowerharrington]

something where reader is Billy’s gf and they’re at a party and she gets hit on and he gets overprotective and it leads to angry sex

You’re My Favourite Kind Of Night

pairing - Billy Hargrove X Fem!Reader

summary - You, Y/N Wheeler, decided to throw a party for your birthday, and Billy’s not happy with how much you’re talking to your friend Steve Harrington, Nance’s boyfriend.

Thinking of writing a Part 2 for this if anyone wants it! ☺️

warnings - Overprotectiveness, 18+, Billy Hargrove, degradation, Billy flirts with Karen, slut shaming, public masturbation, sorry but Y/N is kind of a bitch in this, flashbacks to season one at the very end, 🤨📸, reader’s kind of a brat iwl.

notes - I hope you like this, Nonnie. Another request similar to this one was; Could do something where Billy is jealous of a boy Y/N is talking to so he reminds her who she belongs to? And can that boy be Steve. Okay so I kind of changed the ask slightly, but it’s still what you both asked for, Anons. Just a heads up, that’s all! Also the title comes from the song; Earned It, by The Weeknd (From Fifty Shades of Grey)

word count - 4K (caught in 4K, literally)

taglist - @quickiesgirl @sunnymunson @sympathyforher @langdon-cumslut @wzrlds @friendly-neighborhood-ghoul @taecube @in-love-with-will-byers dm comment or ask me to be added or taken off for future updates if you like <3

“So,” Steve started, taking his first draw of smoke. You never thought he would be a smoker. “Great party, huh? Not to mention interesting…”

“Yeah,” you said, sitting down next to him on the edge of the pool coping. “I’m all about crazy parties.”

“I bet. But shouldn’t the birthday girl be talking to everyone and not just me?”

He patted his legs, indicating to you to prop yours up over him. You do as you’re asked, now practically sitting in his lap.

“I can talk to whoever I want to whenever I want to.”

He began strumming his fingers across your bare thigh, inching closer and closer to the black leather skirt you were wearing, matching with your boyfriend’s jacket.

You rolled your eyes. “You’ll get me in trouble, Harrington.”

“You got me in trouble with Nance first,” he chuckled darkly. “That skirt you wore on your first day at Hawkins drove me wild, Y/N.”

“Touché.”

He used the silence to drill you with a querying look. “I like you, Wheeler, you know. I wanna know more about you.”

Sure, and you wanted to know how big his cock was and how many inches it could get down your throat before you’re gagging, with tears starting to fall from your eyes.

“There’s no reason that you can’t,” you said, grazing your bottom lip between your teeth.

His reply was to do nothing but stare intently back at you, his soft but intense gaze burning right through you. But you weren’t intimidated in the slightest, so you stared back, the only man that could make you bow down was nowhere to be seen so you decided to lay your cards out.

“I always thought you were hotter than every other boy in Hawkins.”

“Even Billy, your boyfriend?” Steve questioned, almost choking on the air he breathed in, looking away from you. Finally, you won.

“Billy hates labels. We’ve gone with fuck-buddies, but apparently he’s the only one allowed to see other people.”

You smiled innocently at him, just as you heard somebody else coming over. You would’ve preferred if Steve just gave in right away, but in the end you still won, then that way you could’ve talked to him properly before whoever the fuck this was decided to interrupted you.

It turned out to be Billy. Go figure.

At the sound of Billy coming over, Steve also pushed your legs off his, making it not as obvious that you two were practically eye fucking each other until the first one caved in. You bet Steve got off controlling when a girl came for him, just like Billy did, building the girl up and up, only to leave her hanging every single damn time. Just until she was completely ragged, desperate and submissive for him.

You didn’t think you’d mind a change of scenery, after having the beautiful Billy on top of you more than once every night for the last six months, and you were starting to get tired of the same old vanilla, missionary sex he had been giving you. God. Why were men so goddamn boring?!

“I’m not interrupting anything, am I?” Billy asked, glaring at you.

He takes a cigarette out of his box and places it between his lips, inhaling then dragging it out with a loud sigh. You didn’t realize your gaze had been pinned on his body, anywhere but his face while biting your lips until Billy gave you a look, pinning his eyes on you as he brought his lighter to the end of his cigarette.

“Not at all,” Steve said, scratching the back of his neck, looking away awkwardly. He put out his half smoked cigarette and turned to you. “Do you want to head back inside? It’s getting pretty cold out here.”

“Stay here. We need to talk,” Billy told you. He was now turned from Steve pretty dismissively.

“Steve’s right, it is pretty cold out here,” you replied, pouting your lower lip at him.

“Don’t strut around at a party without any underwear on then.”

Steve’s mouth ran drier than the Sahara Desert. “You’re not wearing any underwear?” He was already halfway to his feet, but as he realized you weren’t moving he sat back down again. “Bold as ever, Wheeler.”

There was a small giggle in your throat, half way out of your mouth, but Billy interrupted you. “She’s a riot, that’s for sure. I’m trying to talk to her though, so if you don’t mind… can you kindly fuck off?”

That was aggressively rude.

…and so damn hot.

Steve’s eyes narrowed on Billy’s. “I was talking to her first. I can’t imagine anything that urgent that I can’t keep talking to her.”

Oh, you loved this side of the both of them. You liked their arguing, the underlying tension. Sexual tension? You didn’t know. Also, it’s over you for now. And your legs weren’t clamped shut to keep your dignity, no, but to stop the throbbing pressure.

Billy scoffed, and you turned to him, surprised that he hadn’t already knocked Steve out. Though last time Steve won. So he may have not wanted to crush his ego and pride… again. “Sounded like a whole lot of silence ‘fore I came over here, Harrington.”

“Saying my surname isn’t intimidating, Billy.”

A smirk found its way onto your lips. Steve had no idea really what he was in for with Billy, so you helped him out. Running your foot up the front of Steve’s leg, you told Billy, “We were saying it all with our eyes.”

“Lust at first sight, hm?” Billy said, unfazed. “You two must be so attuned that now you can telepathically tell each other how much you want to fuck each other like Max’s friend, El, can.”

What the fuck was he doing? Whatever it was it was kind of hot.

Before an even more confused frown can cross your face, Steve jolted up. You were already quite taken aback, but more so when he stepped up to Billy. Billy for his part looked completely and utterly unbothered, not changing his expression or stance in the slightest.

“What’s your problem with me talking to Y/N?”

“My problem?” Billy scoffed. He suddenly straightened up. “You need to stay away from my girlfriend. I just wanted to talk to her.”

Oh so now he wanted to call you his girlfriend? Very mature.

Steve stared him down, unconvinced. Billy then showed he wasn’t intimidated in the slightest and smiled right in Steve’s face, wholly offensively, entirely disrespectfully, before beginning to chuckle under his breath.

“You know, Harrington. Maybe you should spend less time flirting with other girls and more focussed on Nancy. Not Y/N. She’s off limits.”

“Says who? We’re just fuck buddies, Billy. No strings attached, remember?” You said, mimicking the way he said it to you on the way into the party two hours ago.

Billy was about to say something when he heard a noise, somebody was leaving the house.

“Buzzkill,” Billy muttered, looking into the distance at none other than your mom, Karen, who was now walking towards you. “Time to sweet talk this bitch. You two better play along.”

Ugh, who did this boy think he was? Really. Bossing you around like that?

“You must be Y/N’s sister,” he said, running his tongue against his top teeth, before biting his lower lip. He began not-so subtly looking her up and down. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“I’m actually her mother,” she chuckled. “Such a charmer.”

“My best talent! Right, baby? Steve?”

“Right,” you both said at the same time, and as your mom began walking off with a stupid little grin on her face, Billy made a ‘call me’ gesture to her before popping his cigarette back into his mouth. Gross.

“Easy. Now, we need to have a little talk, don’t we, Babydoll?” He asked, taking a hold of your hand with a painfully strong grip, and Steve took the hint to leave, cautiously looking over his shoulder one last time to make sure you were okay being alone with Billy.

“Sure, Babydoll,” you chuckled. Billy hated it when you mocked him, but it also turned him on more than anything else could. Except you, obviously. And now, your mom too.

The pool lights had been turned off as the party drifted inside, the clock struck midnight and the party was coming to an end. Billy’s beautiful face was illuminated under the moonlight, looking like a male adonis, but god was he fucking annoying.

He was already pinning you down with an icy glare when you tore your eyes away from Steve who was now making his way back into the house. With his eyes on you, you uncrossed your legs, letting them inch open ever so slightly, then crossed them the other way.

Billy leaned back against the nearby wall, not even five feet away from you, propping one leg against it too, with a husky look on his face. He beckoned you over with two fingers, almost mirroring the way you’d love him to touch you right now.

“On your knees, Princess.”

“I’m not getting on my knees for any man, Babydoll,” you teased, butterflies awakening in your stomach as his brows furrowed into a frown.

“You have three seconds to get over here, Y/N.”

But you don’t move. You stayed seated exactly where you were, but you did however start running your hand down your body, from your neck down to the junction between your hip and leg, never taking your gaze off his.

“Or what?”

“If you don’t get on your knees and crawl over here right now like a good little girl and suck on my dick… I swear to God, you little fucking brat, when I do finally fuck you, you’ll be feeling it for weeks.”

Oh shit. So he was playing that game?

“You should be nicer to me, Billy. It’s my birthday,” you said, chuckling to yourself, letting out a gasp as he grabs your wrist, pulling you over to him.

He pressed your body against the wall, your eyes widening as he towered over you. You glared at him as he trapped you against the wall, one hand either side of your shoulders.

“Tell me, Hargrove. Do I get under your skin when I speak to other boys? Does the thought of me talking to Steve Harrington… Anger you?” You asked, a little giggle leaving your lips as you did so.

It wasn’t so much the disrespect and the dirty talk, but about knowing how desperate that little fuck was to get in your pants. Billy wanted you so bad. The fucking loser. The more you deny, the more you tease, the better the fuck will be. There’s no way you could give in now.

You pushed Billy away from you, making him stumble backwards. Taking it a step further you walked back over to the shorter wall and sat back down on it, taking your teasing fingers slowly down between your legs and underneath the fabric of your skirt.

The tips of your fingers just grazed over your skin, making your legs shudder, forcing the lightest of gasps from between your lips as they dip into the pool of wet between your legs. As you slipped a finger between your folds and was encased in warmth and delicious wetness, Billy’s jaw unhinged, his eyes set determinedly on watching you play with yourself, though he wanted to do it himself.

You’d barely begun and he’d already shoved his hand in his own underwear. You gasped again, and the sound made Billy scramble over to you with lust in his eyes. He grabbed onto his jeans, quickly unbuckling them and pulling them down, hauling his underwear down with them. So much for fucking you within an inch of your life.

You bet he was so horny he’d just jump you until he came five minutes later then blame it on the alcohol he consumed. No. Now wasn’t the time.

You grabbed his jaw as he was about to pull up your skirt, squeezing with your wet fingers. “Uh uh,” you said, shaking your head. “Who says you’re getting to play, hm?”

“I’ll rip that fucking skirt and bralette off with no hesitation, Y/N.”

“And then what?” You asked, taking him close enough that you could have kissed him if you wanted to. But instead, you shoved his face away, almost making him fall backwards.

He rubbed his jaw, glaring at you from the corner of his eye. “I will ruin you.”

“Really?” You let out a dry laugh. “A whiny little bitch like you couldn’t even ruin a fly, Hargrove. Even Steve fucking Harrington beat you in a fight.”

Hate boiled in him like lava, forming an extremely aggressive volcano, anger bubbling and beginning to burn his insides, and it took everything in his power to not throw one at you like his father always did.

The veins in his hands and arms began to pulse from clenching his fists so furiously, and he released you from the cage of his arms, taking one step back. “You’re a miserable fucking bitch.”

“And you’re not one of those?” You smirked, and he shook his head, lost in a sea of fury and confusion.

His icy blue eyes burned into yours and you stared back, unwilling to budge, watching as a darkness flashed in his eyes, nostrils flaring. He brought a hand up to your chest to forcefully push you against the wall, pressing his body weight against yours. Still no trace of anything but the usual hypnotic look in his sultry blue eyes.

He then pulled away, sitting down on the pool coping, pulling you with him. He snaked an arm around your back, cinching you into him, your thighs around his hips, locking at his back to stop yourself from falling into the pool. He was so tall that even sitting down you were still not looking him in the eye and he still got to look down on you, but you realized he positioned himself to kneel as imposingly as he could in front of you. Never did you think he’d get on his knees for anyone, but here he was.

“The only person you have to prove anything to is me. So, prove it.” He took you by the chin this time, locking his fingers over you so tightly, turning you up to look at him with such a sharp movement that it hurt your neck. “Show me you’re not all mouth, you slut. Because I have a feeling you’re playing up a big game here.”

“Glady.” It almost sounded like you were intimidated by him, which was the very fucking last thing he made you… or that’s what you wanted him to think. You would gladly let Billy take control of you for a night, but in all honesty, you didn’t think he actually had it in him.

Until he could prove that he did, he wasn’t getting that chance.

“If you want to know what I’ve got…” You began. Billy let you go, running his hands through your hair instead, and ironically being as gentle about it as he can. “Then you can listen to me fucking that Munson kid all night long until he can’t see. I’ll even take you with me to get my weed off him so you can enjoy the show.”

That gentleness had vanished again. He took a hold of your hair tight, arching you back, and grinned in your face, showing you the menace you wanted all along. He slid his fingers into your slick pussy, biting his lips and sighing contently at how it felt, making you moan, your bottom lip shuddering.

"By all means, have your fun with that freak. We’re not boyfriend and girlfriend after all. But what you’re gonna do afterwards, no matter what the fuck you get up to with that fucking kid, is you're going to meet me, somewhere with all the lights off, somewhere nice and quiet, like the park, and I'm going to bend you over the first surface I can get, I don't care what it is, the slide, the bench at the bakery, the picnic tables, even that fucking freak you're fucking tonight, I don't give a shit so long as you're face down and whimpering for me, and I'm not going to stop until my name is coming out your mouth and you're begging me, fucking begging me to make you cum again. Tonight you’re going to be mine, bitch, and I'm going to make sure you don't forget that. All mine."

He slid his fingers in and out of you as he spoke, leaving you whimpering already, eyes on his, not daring to look away and miss a word, biting down hard on your bottom lip so you didn’t make a sound, yet still making the most pathetic and needy little noises. Maybe you were the whiny one, not Billy.

“Get up, whore” he hissed, his order dominant, and quite frankly very sexy.

You did as you were told, half because yes please, and half because he's still got a fistful of your hair and was getting up with you regardless of what you wanted (though we both know exactly what you wanted).

When you were up, he let you go, but he wasn’t done.

“Turn around and bend over,” he demanded, his voice laced with sweet, sweet venom.

Oh fuck, you thought as you did as he asked. He stood behind you, so fucking close to where you needed him most, his hands travelling all over; smoothing over your ass, down your thighs, his knuckles grazing your throbbing pussy. He kicked at your ankles until you spread your legs wider.

Right now you’d take those minutes you were mocking him for and you’d thank him endlessly for them, even if he left you unfinished, but right now you were so goddamn wet for him, and you were sure he’d have you cumming the moment the tip of his cock even teased your slit.

He slid your skirt up your ass, exposing everything. His cock rubbed against you through his shorts. You pushed back into him even harder, moaning.

His hand came colliding with your ass. You groaned, and grunted, and jerked away all at the same time, your fingers clutching the hard marble even tighter.

“I like it when you’re a bad girl, Princess, but you need to realise that you won’t get away with that shit with me, you fucking slut. You need to be a good girl for me.”

He brought his hand down again, rocking you even harder. You grinded your hips desperately up on his dick for some needed relief.

“Who are you going to open your legs for tonight, you little slut?” He asked.

Before you could answer he spanked you again. Hard.

You moaned, trying to keep your legs from trembling.

“You, Billy,” you confessed.

“Say it again. I didn’t hear you.”

“You, Billy. Fuck,” you groaned pathetically, desperately reaching back to him, betraying yourself by how needy you were being.

“Billy?” He let a dry laugh escape his throat.

“Babe?”

No answer.

“Baby?”

Nothing. Not even a blink.

“Darling?”

Still no answer. What the fuck would he want you to call him?

“My love?”

He shook his head, a smirk etched into his features.

“Babydoll?”

“Call me Babydoll one more time and see what happens, Princess. I answer to Daddy only, and you should know that by now,” he hissed, before laughing. “Oh I forgot, you’re too dumb to remember shit like that!”

He moved away, but before you could collapse to the ground in disappointment, he slapped his hand between your legs, his fingers sliding up inside of you again.

“Let me repeat this; who are you opening your legs for tonight?”

You had a thought about saying Eddie’s name, but you were so horny that you couldn’t bring yourself to delay Billy fucking you senseless any longer. “You, Daddy.”

God you hated that word, but nonetheless still said it, earning another slap on your ass, this time much harder, the feeling of a bruise beginning to form on your skin.

“That’s right, doll,” he said, and you could practically hear that little bitchass smirk on his face. “You fucking remember that, Y/N. Remember who it was that had your pussy dripping before they even touched you. You can be a bad girl for everyone else, but you’re a good girl for me. Do you understand?”

But Steve also had your pussy dripping, no?

You nodded. “Whatever you want, Babydo— I mean, Daddy.” Ew.

“Shit, someone’s coming, babe,” Billy whispered.

He backed off so suddenly you could have sworn he ran away, but he didn’t run. He didn’t run, not this time. You were just fixing your skirt that was pulled up over your ass and top that was pulled up over your tits when Karen came strutting into view in her skimpiest lingerie that she certainly wasn’t wearing for Ted. But for Billy, of course. Who else would it be for? She’d been trying to steal that boy from you for weeks now.

“Jesus, mom!” You jumped back in an instant, letting go of Billy’s shirt as he tried wiping the lipstick off his face and neck, and chest, and legs, and—

“What are you doing out so late, Y/N? Billy, I need to speak with you about… Something…” She said, a flirty smile playing on her lips as she twirled her hair between her fingers.

You didn’t look back at Billy as you went, rolling your eyes at your mom’s pathetic flirting attempt. You barely could because you were such a fucking horny mess, but God you couldn’t go about your family like this. You were a fucking whimpering shamble and you and Billy both knew it. Even Karen knew it.

You scurried away to the upstairs bathroom, the one with the most privacy, since Mike is usually down in the basement (right now he was at Lucas’). Thankfully barely anyone was around, and you only bumped into your dad as he was coming back from doing his nightly run around the kitchen for snacks. I mean, everyone does it, right? Absolutely no shame, Teddy.

You had to stuff your entire fist in your mouth, cumming so hard after fucking yourself properly with your fingers, but God … you may have finished, but you’d never felt so unfinished in your life. Your whole body felt electric, from your sensitive nipples, your temples, your throbbing pussy, and your toes. You just wanted Hargrove all over you, in you everywhere, fucking you in every hole you have simultaneously, kissing the rest of you, sucking on your toes and fingers and nipples. You were just gagging for him to touch you until you’re on the edge and then for him to never stop.

You’re feeling a lot calmer when you leave the bathroom, bumping into Nancy on the way to your bedroom. You caught her throwing a disgusted look at your lap when you sat down on your bed, no doubt thinking of all the underwear-less shenanigans they caught on the cameras around the house. She can’t say anything, after all she lost her virginity to the hair while her best friend was dying in Steve’s pool. And if only somebody knew about the shenanigans that were never recorded on camera. Or so you thought.

Billy’s ears perked up at the sound of the bushes rustling as he opened the door to his Camaro, and he caught a glimpse of greasy ash brown hair and the distinctive blue shirt and black denim jacket combo. You looked out your bedroom window to see what all the fuss was about and you saw Billy speaking to somebody else! You were so surprised he didn’t have your mom bent over the same wall he was taking you on. The Whore of Babylon walked so Nancy, Karen and Y/N Wheeler could run.

Is that…?

“I’m going to fucking kill you, Byers! Go find your brother instead of fucking recording me and Y/N, you fucking freak!”

Needless to say that video went around school faster than you could say Billy’s name. And you lived up to your surname, as did Nancy when she was also filmed with Steve. By the same person both times.

#stranger things #stranger things fanfic #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove #billy stranger things #karen wheeler #nancy wheeler #jonathan byers #steve harrington #eddie munson #billy hargrove x y/n #billy hargrove x female reader #um idk what this is but enjoy if you can i guess #bratty reader #“he didn’t run this time” bestie that’s eddie’s line