#Unhinged steve Harrington

[libraryofgage]

Harlequin Prince (2)

Part of: Steve Deserves Good Parents, Actually

Debbie and Fester Addams One | Two | Three | Four Rick and Evelyn O'Connell One | Two | Three Harley Quinn One | Two (you're here!) 10th Doctor and Rose One | Two (on the way!) Scooby Gang (there are plans for this one lmao, so plz be patient with me orz) Jedidiah and Octavius (from Night at the Museum) One Queen ClarisseRenaldi One | Two

This part was line-jumped on Ko-Fi, which means y'all got it sooner than I originally planned!

If you want to line jump your favorite series, you can learn more here

Ironically, even tho the post says about a week of turn around, I get so excited that somebody wants to line jump that I just write it immediately lmao

Steve finally gets a good fight in this one, but it ends way too soon the poor boy. Either way, he also gets to meet some of the party!

As always, if you see any typos, no you didn't ;)

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Steve knew his dad wasn't in the picture, but he never knew why. He never asked, but he started to get this horrible feeling after a while. Harley Quinn's past was well known to Steve, her previous...associate and her relationship with him isn't exactly a secret, no matter how much his mother tried to keep them from him. She couldn't protect him at school, and she couldn't protect him from hearing people talking on the streets.

So, yeah, from the age of nine, Steve walked around with this horrendous knowledge in his gut, a knowledge that he wanted to think was just him being paranoid. But it wasn't. He knew it wasn't. He just couldn't admit that to himself, and he couldn't ask his mother because he didn't want to send her down that particular lane of memories. So it festered, and Steve pretended it didn't exist at all.

Until, that is, his 13th birthday. It was held at Uncle Bruce's mansion because his mother wanted to go all out. It was as much a celebration for her (a full three years without getting sent to Arkham!) as it was for him (managing to stay alive for 13 years in Gotham with Harley Quinn for a mother). Steve hadn't minded, either, especially when he saw the absolute joy she had when picking out the hugest bounce-house she could find with Uncle Bruce's sleek black credit card.

The party was catered by Steve's favorite Indian restaurant, the guests were limited to immediate friends and family, the bounce-house was extra bouncy, and a table was practically buckling under the weight of the gifts piled on top of it. It was, by far, Steve's best birthday, surpassing even the one he spent in Arkham after letting Poison Ivy out of her cell.

"Hey, Dumplin'!" his mother shouted, waving at him from the top of the bounce house she'd managed to climb. When Steve looked at her, she grinned even brighter and jumped, launching off turrets and rolling down sloped walls before landing on her feet on the ground. "Let's get to them presents!"

Steve laughed, looked at the table eagerly, and nodded. Her grin somehow getting wider, Harley turned, cupped her hands around her mouth, and shouted, "GET YOUR ASSES IN GEAR, EVERYONE! STEVIE'S OPENIN' PRESENTS!"

Soon enough, Steve was standing in front of the table, surrounded by everyone, and not at all sure where to start with the mountain of presents. "You should open mine first," Jason said, grinning as he gestured to a bike-shaped package.

It was, in fact, a bike. A motorcycle, specifically, with a red and black helmet and the promise of lessons from Jason whenever he wanted. Steve loved it immediately and ignored Uncle Bruce muttering about driving laws and how Steve couldn't operate any motorized vehicle until he was fifteen. "Well," he said, "as long as I don't get caught by Batman, who's gonna know?"

That had earned him a laugh and his mother's hand ruffling his hair. "Go on, Dumplin', choose another."

Dick got him a literal outfit's worth of Wonder Woman merch, accessories included, that made Bruce look ready to pop a blood vessel. Tim gave him small tracking pins and a hacked handheld game console to watch the trackers with the promise of free upgrades anytime he wanted. Damien gave him daggers since he "wasn't good enough for real swords, but everyone should have a blade" on them, just in case. Cass, Steph, and Barbara pooled their skills together (and Alfred, they borrowed Alfred a lot) to make him an Unofficial Robin costume, complete with shorts only slightly less scandalous than Dick's original costume.

Bruce, when he finally stopped glaring at the three of them, gave Steve a fingerprint panic button shaped like a bat and easily attached to a key ring. "For emergencies, Steve," he said, "Just hold your thumb to it for three seconds."

"This is perfect for the next time we run out of ice cream," Steve said, grinning as he attached it to his key chain.

"Emergencies."

"Oh. So if we run out of mint chip, specifically. Got it."

Bruce merely sighed and let him return to opening gifts.

Alfred gave him a tin of homemade cookies that Steve immediately had to protect from the others. Poison Ivy gave him a Venus flytrap and the promise to help him grow it properly. Selina couldn't be there, but Bruce passed along her gift: a pair of goggles Bruce had handed over with a sigh and quiet request for him to use them responsibly.

Steve opened Duke's present last, eyes widening at the red leather jacket. "Wait, seriously?" he asked, holding it up as he looked at Duke.

"You're gonna be a troublemaker, Steve," Duke said. "Might as well make sure you're bulletproof for it."

Steve grinned wider and pulled on the jacket, swimming in the leather but eager to grow into it all the same.

There was nothing from his mother in the pile, but Steve figured the party itself was his present since she'd done all the planning. When she pulled him away to a secluded room in the manor after they'd all had cake, Steve realized it was just because she didn't want to share this moment with anyone.

She smiled at him, reaching up and gently tucking a few strands of hair behind Steve's ears. "You grew up so fast, Dumplin'," she said, sighing softly.

"Ivy says I'm like a weed."

"Ives is right," Harley said, nodding once before looking away. "Okay, ready for your present?"

"Wasn't the party my present?"

"No, no, Dumplin'. The party was for fun," she said, grinning as she reached behind her and pulled a comically-large mallet from seemingly nowhere. "This is your present."

Steve blinked, leaning over to look around Harley. "Where'd that even come from?" he asked.

"Jester Logic, Dumplin'. Don't worry about it. I'll teach you the trick later," she promised, holding the mallet out to Steve with an expectant expression.

When Steve took it, the weight threw him off. He frowned, shifted his grip, and suddenly had no problem holding it up. He took a closer look, noting the scratches and marks on the mallet and the faded paint. "This was yours," he said.

"Yeah, it was."

"I've never seen it before."

Harley sighed, tugging on one of her pigtails with a slight frown. "Yeah, well, I wasn't exactly a great person when I used it, Dumplin'. Tried to forget about that Harley and all," she explained.

"Then why give it to me?"

Harley looked back at Steve and smiled, reaching out to cup his cheek. "Cuz you're so much better than me," she said. "I think you'll do some great things, Dumplin', and maybe all the good you do will erase most of the bad this mallet's got."

Her words were so serious, her smile was so bittersweet, and she looked ready to cry and deny it. This was the closest he'd ever gotten to learning about her past straight from the source, a past he knew about it, a past that involved a certain person that haunts Steve's mind with terrifying potential. Suddenly, he had to know.

Steve didn't really think before blurting out, "Is the Joker my father?"

Harley froze, her shoulders tensing and her eyes widening as she stared at Steve. "You don't got a father, Dumplin'," she finally said, her voice quiet and her expression conflicted.

"Fine. Was he the sperm donor?"

With a sigh, Harley stepped closer and placed her hands on Steve's shoulders. "I won't lie," she said. "He is, but that don't mean a thing. His crazy ain't hereditary, Dumplin', and he's never gettin' anywhere near you."

"Does...does he know?" Steve whispered, "About me, I mean."

"It don't matter," Harley said, her voice firm and her eyes more serious than Steve had ever seen them. "I'll kill him before he gets near ya. Ives will kill him. Hell, Brucie wil---no, wait, he's got those pesky morals. Fine, Jason will kill him before he gets near ya. Actually, Jason'd kill him anyway, but the excuse will be good if Brucie scolds him for it."

Steve couldn't help laughing at that, feeling a little lighter when his mother smiled back at him. When his laughter trickled to nothing more than a smile, he asked, "Then, was I the reason you left?"

Harley nodded and gently tugged Steve into her arms, holding him to her and cradling the back of his head. "Yeah, you were," she said, her voice soft and soothing. "I was excited to tell 'im when I learned about you, but then I heard him talking to some goons. He was laughin' about running a kid over, breakin' their legs, and I realized...you wouldn't be special to him. You'd've been like his goons, all expendable and not even worth a glance. I couldn't put you through that, and I couldn't put me through it, either. So, I got us out the only way I knew how."

"By finding Uncle Bruce," Steve said.

He felt her nod. "By finding Brucie," she agreed. "He tried to deny bein' the Bat and all, but your mama ain't dumb, Dumplin'. I'd done my homework, and the butts matched. Once I explained it all, once I told him about you, he agreed to help."

Steve nodded, listening to his mother's heart beating against his ear. He glances down at the mallet again, tightens his grip, and takes a deep breath. "Thank you," he said, "for the gift and for telling me. I'll do good with it, I promise."

"That's my boy," Harley said, pulling back and ruffling his hair. "Now, lemme explain that Jester Logic to ya."

----------

Hawkins remains boring even after meeting Eddie. After all, Eddie's in high school (his second attempt at senior year, apparently), and Steve...isn't. He should be, probably, but there's no way he's stepping one foot in that suburban nightmare of a building. He can feel the normalcy, the utter boredom, oozing from the place, and he'd rather not subject himself to that.

So, he spends his day wandering around Hawkins, getting a feel for the little town until he could navigate the place blindfolded. He can do the same in Gotham, but it's more impressive there with the winding streets and sprawling sidewalks. Here, it's nothing special.

The most interesting part of his day is when he's sitting on the roof of a video store, one leg dangling over the edge with the other pulled to his chest so he can rest his arm on his knee. He's about halfway through a cigarette when a cop car pulls into the lot and a middle-aged man steps out.

He looks up at Steve, frowning as he calls up, "You shouldn't be there, son."

"I ain't your son," he calls back, grinning as he takes another drag and blows smoke out as the guy rests his hands on his belt. It reminds him so much of Gotham PD rookies trying to posture that Steve can't help laughing. "Is that supposed to intimidate me?"

"I'm serious, kid," the cop says, apparently ignoring Steve's question. "It's dangerous up there. If you don't come down, I'm gonna have to call the Fire Department to bring the ladder."

Steve sighs and puts his cigarette out on the roof. He gets up, stretches his arms above his head, and stands on the ledge of the roof. He grins at the cop, casually stepping into empty air and hearing the guy shout as he falls. He lands in a crouch on the awning over the door, swings to hang from it, and lands on his feet on the sidewalk.

It wasn't even much of a fall, but the cop looks like he's about to have a heart attack. Steve glances at the badge on his chest. "We done now, Officer Hopper?" he asks.

"Don't do that again," Hopper says, pointing a finger at Steve, "Or I will drag your ass to the station and call your parents."

Steve snorts, doing his best to hold his smile back. "I'll keep that in mind, sir," he says, giving a mocking two-finger salute before turning on his heels and walking down the street.

After a few blocks, he veers off into the forest, figuring he'll wander around the trees for a while before going to the Hideout to bother Bev and stare at Eddie and quietly pray someone else is gonna look for a fight.

Did he mention Hawkins is boring? Because it's fucking boring.

Steve sighs, kicking a stick as he shoves his hands into his jacket. He idly notes the forest is healthy. Sure, a few pieces of litter are strewn around, but it's not as bad as the parks in Gotham can get. Poison Ivy would find this place barely passable, which is hard to manage, and he's tempted to call her when he gets home to tell her about it.

He hums softly as he walks, enjoying the sounds of the forest until they just...stop.

The entire forest falls silent, which is weird; forests are too full of life to go silent. Even the bugs seem to have frozen in place, too scared to risk making a sound by moving. Steve stops, looking around him with a frown and trying to figure out what's caused this.

He gets the answer a second later when he hears a scream. The voice sounds young and cracks slightly, so it definitely belongs to a child. Despite himself, Steve can't help grinning as he takes off in the direction of the scream.

This is the most exciting thing to happen in the four weeks he's been stuck in Hawkins. As he runs through trees and easily jumps over bushes to take the shortest path, he makes guesses on what he'll find. Maybe Hawkins has a villain that's only now showing up. Maybe the town has a secret alligator or something that's decided to have a midday snack. Hell, maybe someone just decided to be a dick today.

He realizes every guess is wrong when he slides into a clearing to see a few kids (two boys, one girl) surrounded by some weird dog-looking...things. They have heads but no faces, crouched low to the ground and growling at the kids they've cornered. There's around ten of them, which would normally make Steve hesitate, but he's so desperate at this point for a real fight that he doesn't care.

Instead, he reaches over his shoulder, thinks about how fucking hilarious it's gonna be to jump out of nowhere with a giant mallet, and grips the handle as he swings it over his shoulder. "Hey, monster mutts!" he shouts, grinning when all the monsters and the kids finally notice him. "Let's play."

Pure, unfiltered joy rushes through him when the first monster-dog jumps at him. Steve's eyes are bright and his grin is positively feral as he swings the mallet and sends it flying into a tree. He roundhouse kicks another dog, using the momentum to bring his foot down on the head of a third before smashing its body with the mallet.

"Are you insane?!" one of the kids shouts.

"Certifiably!" he shouts back, watching as another monster-dog jumps at him. He waits for the perfect moment to back flip, bringing his feet under the dog to send it flying. He brings the mallet up as he lands, clocking another monster under the jaw. It yelps, crashing into another dog.

"Where'd this guy even come from?" the girl asks, turning to look at the boys with her.

"I don't know, but I'm happy to let him deal with the demodogs."

Oh. That's what they're called. Steve hums softly at the name, grinning as he twirls the mallet and swings with all his strength at one of the demodog. He rests the mallet on his shoulder like a baseball bat, watching the demodog arch in the air with an appreciative whistle. "Solid air," he says, nodding once before looking at the remaining demodogs.

There's only three, the others scattered in the clearing. He can't tell if they're dead or not, but he could always smash them to mush when he's done. Steve grins at the remaining dogs. "C'mon, then," he says, only to be filled with disappointment when they creep back, turn heel, and run.

"Damn, that's no fun," Steve says, sighing as he rests the mallet on the ground and leans on the handle. He looks at the kids. "You guys okay?"

The girl has orange hair pulled back into a messy braid. She's staring at him like he's got two heads but is kind of impressed by it. One of the boys has curly hair being smothered by his hat, and the other is wearing a basketball jersey. They're also staring at Steve like he's crazy. "Dude," the curly-haired one says, "that was awesome!"

"Where'd you get that mallet from?" the girl asks.

"Jester Logic," Steve explains, shrugging as he picks the mallet up and walks over. "Wanna hold it?"

When the girl lights up, he passes the mallet to her, snorting when she immediately staggers under its weight. "How do you hold this so easily?"

"Jester Logic. Again. It's funnier when other people find it heavy."

"That makes no sense," basketball jersey says.

"Who are you?" curly hair asks.

"Steve. Moved here recently. What about y'all?"

"Dustin," curly hair says.

"Lucas," basketball jersey says.

"Max," the girl says, her voice strained until Steve takes the mallet back, twirling it like it weighs nothing.

"Great. Nice to meet y'all. Now, what the fuck were those?"

"How much time you got?" Dustin asks.

Steve grins, thinking he's finally found something that can keep him entertained when he's not hanging around Eddie. "Plenty."

---------

Tag list (let me know if you'd like to be added!)

@nectandra, @y4r3luv, @just-a-tiny-void,

[just-a-tiny-void]

Let me have unhinged Steve Harrington

Let me have this man- this child

(cuz that’s what they all are, right?

Just children doin a job that they were never supposed to be have to begin with)-

Filled with an all consuming rage cuz everything is just too much

Too much grief,

Too much pain-

…too much failure.

So let me have a quiet Steve Harrington, one shaped by war.

Ever observing to those that he loves because he can’t (he just can’t) lose anymore.

A weapon always within reach just in case.

A walkman n radio for hun to help.

So let me have a grief stricken Steve Harrington, with sharp edges shaped by heartbreak.

Because he’s lost in what could’ve been n what if,

Because he wasn’t strong enough,

He wasn’t fast enough-

Wasn’t good enough for them.

So what was he worth?

So let me have this shell of a child-

Fighting one last battle against these monsters that have taken everything from his family,

Bloodthirsty and without mercy

To bring them back, to make them whole again.

So let me have this child-

N let him feel

N let him be loved.

————————————————————

N then everyone lives, get some therapy, n have their happily ever after cuz dammit they deserve it.

(if this is bad I’m sorry I just want this boy to let it out while killing some monsters n protecting his people)

[morganbritton132]

Eddie posts a Tiktok that’s just a shot of Steve standing at their front door talking with someone you can’t see. You can hear Steve say, “Disrespectfully, Dan. I’m not doing to do that and if you ask me again, i’m going to walk across the street into your driveway, and then I’m going to break my own leg, and then I’m going to call my lawyer and sue you for all your worth. Get off my property.”

The caption says, ‘my husband is a bitch and I love him so much.’

[steviesbicrisis]

Okay but I need more of comedic bits with new-to-upside-down-shit Eddie and way-too-comfortable-with-trauma Steve.

Like, imagine them sleeping together, for the first time, in the heat of the moment and then there’s a sound from downstairs and Steve takes half a second to grab a fucking nailed bat seemingly out of nowhere?? And Eddie being like okay that’s it I’m gonna die, I just slept with a serial killer wow

And Steve is like what?? Why would I use this on a human

And Eddie, forgetting for half a second that monsters exist, being like WHAT DO YOU USE THIS ON???

[unfinishedslurs]

party king (steddie)

“You want me to what?”

“Go to a party with me,” Eddie says, looking at Steve like he’s the weirdo here. “What’s the big deal, King Steve? You’ve been to plenty of parties.”

“You know, no one actually called me that,” Steve tells him, abandoning his tapes to put his hands on his hips. “Billy started it. I think he just wanted people to call him a king.”

Eddie visibly considers this before nodding, like it makes sense. Which it does. Billy was, in Steve’s private thoughts, an egotistical maniac who needed to calm down.

May he rest in peace.

“But you’ll come to the party with me, right?”

“Give it up, Eddie,” Robin calls from where she’s rewinding tapes. “Steve hasn’t been to a party in forever. He’s basically a grandpa now.”

“Hey!” Steve objects. That’s rich, coming from her. Going to bed at nine some nights so he gets a few more hours of sleep before waking up in a cold sweat does not make him a grandpa. It just makes him traumatized  

“Steeeeeeeve,” Eddie whines, widening his eyes until it looks like they’re going to pop out of his sockets. His exaggerated pout isn't going to do him any favors either. No matter what the kids say behind his back (looking at you, Henderson) he isn't a pushover.

“Why would I want to go to a high school party?” He crosses his arms, leaning against the counter. “I graduated. I have better things to do with my time.”

“Like lose arcade games to freshmen?” Robin asks. He flips her the bird.

“Please, Steve?” Eddie asks. “Pretty please? Pretty pretty please, with cherries and whipped cream and six little nuggets on top?”

“What the hell are you even saying anymore?”

“You want him to eat his babies?” Robin shrieks. “Like Kronos? Is one of them going to cut off his head and free the rest?”

Eddie’s eyes light up, and Steve slaps a hand over his mouth. He doesn’t know who that guy is, and he doesn’t want to deal with the two of them chattering over whatever movie villain he’s assuming is in their weird cult classic films when he still doesn’t know why Eddie is asking him to this party.

He doesn’t even flinch when Eddie licks his hand.

“I’ve been slobbered on by actual monsters,” he says flatly. “Your spit has zero effect on me.”

Eddie bats his eyes and gives his palm a kiss, right where he’d laved his tongue. Steve rolls his eyes and wipes his hand on the side of Eddie’s face.

“Hey!”

“Don’t dish what you can’t take,” Steve says. “Now, why exactly am I getting asked to go to a high school party?”

“Jessica Roberts needs some kush, and she asked me to sell there.”

“Okay? Still not answering my question.”

“There’s gonna be jocks at the party,” Eddie finally confesses, “and I don’t know if they’ll try shit. But given my track record lately…”

“So you need a bodyguard?”

“Hey!” Steve shouts, and is summarily ignored by everyone. So he does what any normal person would do, and slams an abandoned beer bottle against the edge of the counter so it shatters. 

The jocks turn and look at him after that.

Steve glances down at the jagged edges of the bottle in his hands, flipping it like it’s his old ice cream scoop. Yeah, this should work. 

“Leave him alone,” he says, steely inflection to his voice. 

“Or what, Harrington?” One of them asks. “Heard you just been sittin’ in this room all night. What, you hanging around the queers now? Didn’t take you for a f-”

He stops talking when Steve grabs him by the hair and presses the broken bottle against his throat.

“Here’s what's gonna happen,” he says quietly, taking a look at his buddy. He’s let go of Eddie, a lot more spooked now that his friend is shaking in his Nike’s. “You’re going to leave this room. You’re going to leave Munson here alone. You’re not going to bother him, or anyone else in his dragon club ever again. If I hear that you or your little friends are fucking with him, I have a very nice nail-studded baseball bat in my trunk I’d be more than happy to introduce you to. Capisce?”

“Woah, woah, woah,” the guy that was holding Eddie says. “What the hell, Harrington?”

Steve doesn’t break eye contact with the guy he’s threatening. “Capisce?” He asks again, putting a little more force into the word.

“C-capisce.”

“Good,” he says, shoving him away. “Now get outta here.”

They scramble away. Steve walks over to the trash can and throws away the remains of the bottle, running a hand through his hair. He finally turns around to see Eddie staring at him with wide eyes, frozen.

“Sorry-”

“Fuck me.”

“What?”

Eddie’s entire face flushes, like he didn’t mean to say that. “Uh.”

Steve looks at him, and then around the kitchen they’re in. Glass and beer on the floor, music blasting loud enough to set him on edge, a crowd of people that look at him like a zoo exhibit. Fuck, his head hurts. 

“Yeah, okay,” he decides. “We’re going to mine, though.”

“Wh-what?” Eddie looks like a deer in headlights, even though Steve’s offering exactly what he asked. 

“I…have no idea what I’m doing,” Eddie confesses. 

“Oh, are you not…” He trails off, gesturing towards Eddie’s back pocket. “I assumed…”

Eddie laughs abruptly, slapping a hand over his mouth like he startled himself with it. “You know hanky code, Harrington?”

“Can you call me Steve when you’re in my bed?” He’s already got his shirt off, for God’s sake. “Listen, man, if you don’t want this, it’s no biggie.” He starts to get off, and Eddie’s hand clamps over his thigh. 

“No, no, no, don’t you dare. Just gimme a minute, I’m processing.”

“Processing,” he repeats flatly. 

“Yes, processing. I’ve got the guy of my extremely virginal wet dreams shirtless on top of me. I did not think this would ever happen. I didn’t even know you were queer until tonight.”

Steve’s mouth shapes into an “o” of understanding. “You’re a virgin?”

“Jesus, could you focus on anything else I said?”

“You dream about me?”

“Let’s go back to the virgin part.” His fingers start nervously tapping against Steve’s leg. 

“You’re not subtle,” Steve says flatly. “I know when you stare at my ass.”

Eddie colors in a flood of bright red. “What if I wasn’t? What if I was…uh, jealous or something?”

“I guess that’d make sense, since you’re flat as a board.”

“Wh—hey!”

[96kurtswrld]

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚🦋˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡

guys tmi i'm ovulating i'm so sorry i gotta share my thoughts nsfw 18+ minors shoo, fem reader, thigh riding, regular riding, creampie (whoops), wrap it before you tap it guys pls, a little nipple play. steve is so handsy and so mouthy i'm sorry. fem nicknames like honey, pretty girl, good girl, baby ect. flustered fem reader (is that a warning? idk but i'll include it anyways), really just pure freaking filth tbh and it's probably a little inaccurate i am not a smut writer at all but i had to share okay enjoy pls

thinking about riding steve....it started as an innocent afternoon on the couch together. a rare day off of work for steve. there's a movie playing on the tv but you've since long forgotten about it, too focused on steve's hand that rests on your thigh. and then his hand had inched higher. and then before you knew it he had you in his lap, straddling one of his thighs as you ground against it. your head resting on his chest as you moved, his hands on your hips helping to guide you as he pressed soft kisses to your jaw. eventually the tent in his jeans is too much to ignore, and your undoing his button and pawing off his pants before he can even register it. he's slide his hands around to grab the front of your shirt, lifting it up and tossing it on the other end of the couch. his hands softly trace up the curve of your tummy until he's cupping a boob in each hand, kneading them. your head tilts back in a moan, steve taking advantage to lean forward and kiss your throat, his lips moving down your chest.

his hand cups your left breast while he kisses the right one, his lips closing around your nipple as he takes it between his teeth, gently biting on the hardened bud. a gasp leaves you, causing steve to smirk as he pulls off and does the same to the other side. his hands eventually fall to your hips, glancing down at the space between your laps. "gonna ride me, pretty girl?" he asks, his voice a low hum as he speaks to you. you nod your head at him, reaching down between your bodies to grab his hard, leaking cock. he shakes his head at you. "words, honey."

"yes, stevie. wanna ride you, please?" you beg softly, your hand still wrapped around his cock. he smirks at you again, the tease that he is, and gives you a nod of approval. "there's my good girl. go ahead, honey. make yourself feel good" he tells you, his eyes lidded as he licks his lips and leans his head back against the couch, eyes staring down at you carefully. he watches as you hover above him, lining yourself up before you oh so slowly slide down on his cock. you both let out small breaths of relief, giggling at each other as steve leans forward to press a kiss to your lips. he hums contentedly as he rests his hands on your hips, his grip gentle for now.

you start slow, rocking your hips back and forth on his cock as you lean forward to wrap your arms around his neck, bringing you closer to him. you press some light kisses to his jaw and neck, pulling more low moans out of him. eventually you move start to move faster, lifting yourself up and down. your walls feel delicious around his cock, warm and tight, gripping him the way you both enjoy. small pants escape youu as you work yourself up more and more. the wet sound of his cock slipping in and out of you filling the room. steve buries his face in your neck, small moans leaving him as you bounce on his cock. he pulls back slightly to look at you, captivated by your tits bouncing as you move.

steve leans forward again to bury his face in your neck, a low guttural groan leaving him as you work yourself closer and closer towards orgasm. he grips the fat of your hips roughly. "slow baby, slow...y'gonna kill me" he slurs against your neck. you whine at his words but do as he says, slowing your movements down to a soft roll of your hips again. "i was s'close" you pout, pulling yourself back until you can see his face again. he's got a lopsided smile on his face as he looks you up and down. "i know honey, i know" he sooths, his thumbs rubbing your hip. he leans forward again to press kisses to your chest, biting and kissing the skin until it turns that light purple color he loves to see. you moan out a whisper of his name, his cock twitching inside of you as he roughly kneads your hips. "don't wanna cum just yet" he mumbles against your chest, continuing to kiss across your chest, around your boobs, up to your shoulder, down your arm. you sigh and moan as he goes, it's music to steve's ears really. he loves pulling all those pretty little sounds out of you, making you feel good. he kisses his way back to the juncture of your neck, breathing in deeply before he starts rutting his hips upwards, a gasp turned moan falling from your lips. you grip his shoulders tightly, as he quickly picks up the pace, rutting up into you rough and fast. "steve....oh my god" you whine into his ear, he grips your hips hard. he lifts you up and down in time with his thrusts, making sure his cock is buried inside you deep before pulling out and slamming back in. his tip hits your cervix he's so deep.

"come on, honey. cum for me, yeah?" he begs right in your ear, his teeth gently nipping the lobe as he thrusts. "feel so good baby, christ" he whines, his pace frantic as he gets close himself, but he wants you to cum first. you pant and whine against his chest, feeling the coil in your lower stomach tightening. what throws you over the edge is one of steve's hands sliding down towards your cunt, the rough pads of his fingers finding your clit. your so sensitive and on the edge that it only takes another second after that for you to cum. steve slows as you cum, you can feel his smile against your neck as he helps you ride out your high. you involuntarily squeeze around him as you come down, the feeling surprising steve. he cums inside of you with a gasp of your name, his entire body going rigid as he softly ruts up into you to ride out his own high now. he presses kisses on your chest, kissing up your neck until he gets to your face. he presses three quick kisses to your lips, a fourth lingering kiss follows. he smiles against your lips and runs his hands up your sides, his touch featherlight and a complete contrast from the rough grip he had on your hips. "my beautiful girl, did so good for me" he praises quietly.

the rest of the night consists of actual cuddling and movie watching, snuggled up together on the couch under the same blanket, soft touches and shy smiles shared between the two of you until it's time to get ready for bed. of course, not without a second, proper round where steve can do all the work, letting his girl simply lay there and feel good.

[thefreakandthehair]

@steddiemas day 1: deck the halls | wc: 1.2k | rated: m

Robin Buckley loves Christmas.

Like, really loves Christmas. If she could convince Steve to put the tree up in their little shitbox apartment the day after Halloween, she would. In fact, she'd tried last year but Steve reminded her that a live tree would be a needleless fire hazard by Christmas Day and she refuses to entertain the idea of a fake tree.

Absolutely not. Live tree or bust.

And this is how Steve ends up at the Christmas Tree Farm the day after Thanksgiving, dragged around with a fond if not tired smile as she checks tree after tree, pulling their branches, checking their strength and health.

"It has to be a Blue Spruce to hold those heavy ornaments from my parents, and none of these are Blue Spruces!" She bemoans, whipping her head around to glare at Steve. "Are you even helping?"

He rolls his eyes and sips the hot chocolate that warms him from the inside. "I'm here as moral support and to cut the thing down when you find it." Steve wiggles the little saw he'd been handed and nods her on.

Robin scoffs and marches back towards him. "I think there are some Blue Spruces in the lot towards the back."

Without a question, he turns on his heel and follows her. This isn't their first Christmas Tree Hunt so he knows the drill. No matter how much he actually hates Blue Spruces because the needles are sharp and stick him when they hang the lights, he'll never say a word. Not when it makes his best friend this happy.

Eventually, they make the trek through muddy grass and Robin does, in fact, find a Blue Spruce that makes her eyes light up in the hidden away lot.

"This is it," she beams. "This is the one."

"Perfect, here, hold this--" Steve hands her his mug and starts to lean down, only for the tree to start shaking.

A man in ripped jeans and Reeboks lies beneath the tree, his own saw just beginning to make its mark in the stump of the spiky, healthy Spruce.

"Hey! Hey, what are you doing? This is our tree." Robin says, reaching through branches to hold it steady. "We were just about to cut it down, back off."

Steve sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. It's not that he won't defend Robin's honor and get into a fight in a Christmas Tree Farm for her, he'd just really rather not.

The mystery man pokes his head out from under the tree with furrowed brows and two needles sticking out from the top of his head, dirt on his denim jacket that protects what looks like a red and black flannel. Steve's definitely been watching way too many Hallmark movies with Robin lately because holy shit, he's cute.

"Listen, my best friend wants this tree, and I don't even wanna be under here but if she doesn't get this Blue Whatever-The-Fuck, someone's halls are getting decked and it'll probably be mine. So, sorry." He shrugs and returns to his place under the tree. 

Robin looks at Steve, bewildered and frazzled simultaneously. Do something, she mouths. 

Like what? He mouths back, scrunching his face and contorting his mouth. 

She widens her eyes and jerks her head to the side, desperate. 

He should’ve known Robin would be responsible for his demise. 

“C’mon, man, we’ve been here for two hours looking for a tree.” Steve gets no response, just a few grunts that shouldn’t go straight to his crotch but what can he say? It’s been awhile.

He steps forward and lies down beneath the tree with the Tree Thief. “Is she here with you? Your best friend who seems as fucking rabid as mine is here about these trees?” 

Steve watches as the man focuses on the tree stump, rhythmic back and forth motions of the saw moving his torso along the ground with his tongue poking out between his lips. “Maybe I can talk to her? Or send Robin? She’s… convincing?” 

“Chrissy wants this one, dude. Hate to break it to you.” 

“Ah, okay. Robin and Chrissy. Well, I’m Steve, and you’re…?” 

The sawing stops as he catches his breath. “Eddie. I’m Eddie. And unless you’re gonna help under here, you might wanna move. I don’t wanna drop this on you.” 

Steve pulls his bottom lip between his teeth and takes a chance. Reaching out, he places one hand on top of Eddie’s. “Can I make you a deal?” 

Eddie startles, eyes flickering back and forth from the space where their hands touch on the rough bark of the tree up to Steve’s gaze. 

“Depends on the deal, I suppose.” Maybe Steve imagines the flush to his cheeks and the playful grin that blossoms across his lips. All he knows about Eddie is that his best friend’s name is Chrissy and that he has the most beautiful brown eyes Steve’s maybe ever seen. 

Not maybe. Definitely. 

“Uh,” he shakes his head, trying to pull himself out of whatever Christmas romcom he thinks he’s living in. “What if we help you and Chrissy find another tree and I help you cut it down? I’ll even carry it to the car for you.” 

“What are you, some sort of lumberjack?”

“Nope,” he lowers his voice conspiratorially, joking as he leans closer, like an idiot. “Just desperate not to get my halls decked.” It earns him a genuine smile and surprised laugh punched from Eddie’s lungs. 

“Alright,” he taps the saw on the trunk and smirks over at Steve, mere inches apart beneath a Christmas tree. Close enough for the faint scent of Eddie’s cigarettes and Old Spice cologne to permeate the strength of the resinous spruce. “You help us find another tree, lug it to the car, and then meet me for coffee after? Seems like the least you can do, all things considered.” 

Trading numbers with the guy he met while bargaining for Robin’s dream Christmas tree isn’t the weirdest moment of his life, but it’s certainly on the shortlist. As is plucking rogue needles out of his hair when they come up from beneath the tree.

He ends up lugging two Blue Spruces to the parking lot an hour later in two trips— Robin chatting with Chrissy in front of them and Eddie at his side, gravitating closer and closer until their arms nearly touch. 

“You know, you didn’t actually have to do this,” Eddie says, moving away from Steve and to the other side of Chrissy's sedan to help tie the tree to the roof. “You’re not like, actually obligated or whatever.” 

Steve finishes tying his end of the knot and looks across at Eddie, finding him standing with hopeful eyes and a piece of hair drawn in front of his face. 

“Oh, I know.” He smiles and shrugs. “But I want to. Especially the coffee-with-you-after part.” 

“Not until we get this thing up and decked, Munson!” Chrissy pops up next to Eddie at the same time Robin appears next to Steve, both of them practically bouncing on their heels and grinning ear to ear. 

Robin nudges Steve in the side and he looks down to see her phone held out, Chrissy’s number typed into her contacts with a tiny pink heart to it. He gives her a subtle, excited thumbs up from below Eddie and Chrissy’s view beneath the car. 

Eddie slings an arm across Chrissy’s shoulders and ruffles her hair before she fixes her ponytail, indignant. 

“Alright, alright,” Steve laughs. “I’ll uh, I’ll text you?” 

Eddie nods and turns himself and Chrissy towards the front of the car. As he gets in the passenger seat, he looks back at Steve with a mischievous wink most likely emboldened by Steve’s brash flirtation. 

“The sooner, the better.”

[runraerun]

May God forgive me but a Hot Frosty!Steddie AU where Eddie (being a freak) ((and also a little high)) kisses a snowman and unknowingly brings it to life. ☃️ *dodges rotten tomato*

Hey, if you didn’t want Eddie to make out sloppy style with your snowman then why did you make him so hot, huh??? Why did you carve abs into him? Why’d you give him bedroom eyes?! 😒Anyway… as I was saying…

Eddie leaves, accidentally leaving behind his battle vest on the snowman, heading home to Forest Hills trailer park. Dude’s totally oblivious to the fact that he just performed a freaking miracle, shattering almost every law in the known universe, all because he thought a snowman was fine as hell.

Hot Frosty (aka our boy Steve), can’t do anything but think of Eddie. It’s his first fully formed thought he has as his snowy skin melts and gives way to human flesh. When he sucks in his first breath of cold, winter art, he exhales with Eddie’s name on his tongue. His fingers reach up and gently touch his freshly kissed lips. The kiss that brought him to life; the first and only touch of warmth he’s ever received.

Steve’s not wearing anything besides a very worn denim vest, covered in colorful patches—the one Eddie so thoughtfully gave him. Otherwise, he’s naked as a jay bird. Thankfully, being a snowman, he doesn’t mind the cold. :)

He walks around town, approaching the various townsfolk, asking if they know where Eddie is. He’s looking for Eddie. Do you know Eddie? Y’know, Eddie, the one who loves me. The one who kissed me tonight. He needs to find Eddie. Eddie will be looking for him too, no doubt.

Eventually though, someone calls the fuzz on this very attractive, very confused young man who’s walking around the snow bare-assed and bare-footed. Hopper immediately recognizes the battle vest—he’s busted Munson enough times, and he’s always wearing that beat up thing. So he calls up the Munson residence, but there’s no answer. He leaves a voicemail instead, growling at him to come pick up his clearly distressed boyfriend before Hopper presses public indecency charges.

How will Eddie react when he hears the message?! Will Eddie believe hot frosty!Steve’s far-fetched tale?! WILL THEY FUCK?! (answers: Very confused, not at first, & HELL YEAH THEY DO)

[gorgeousgreymatter-x]

yes steve is eddie's subby little babygirl but he is also eddie's bloodthirsty attack dog who will break the fingers of anyone who puts a hand on his people he contains multitudes ok

[stvharrngton]

just thinking about how steve loves soft slow sex with you. loves to hold his weight above you as he rolls his hips against yours, his cock fucking in and out of you at a devastatingly slow pace but still so hard and deep. he’s pulling out all the way before thrusting back into you to the hilt. loves how your cunt sucks him all the way in, so warm and wet around the length of him. he loves to lace his fingers between yours, squeezing every time his hips slap against yours. loves to watch you fall apart underneath him, your mouth hanging agape as you let out sweet breathy moans. loves how your bodies become one when he fucks you like this, loves to praise you as he’s whispering sweet nothings in your ear; “doing so good for me, baby” — “oh, pretty girl, pussy’s so sweet” — “love hearing your pretty moans, honey” — “fuck, pussy’s made just for my cock, isnt she?”

[flowercrowngods]

"Captain."

The quill scratches roughly along the page, too aggressive for the paper softened and hardened over time by wear and tear and seawater air. Ink spills, making a mess of the log's entry, splotching over fingers and staining them almost black in the cabin's dim light, a flame flickering in its hold to the right, unaware of the tension in the air. Unaware of the captain's rapidly beating heart and his hands clenching around the quill until he fears it might break.

Although the fear he feels is not on behalf of the quill in his hand.

"Captain."

His first mate is insistent on gaining his attention, but he refuses to acknowledge that she already has it. He knows it can only mean one thing if she comes to him at this hour, if she seeks him out despite clear orders – or, rather, because of them.

"Steve."

He looks up, his jaw clenched, and the quill breaks, spilling ink all over his palm where the sharp tip is cutting into his skin with a spark of pain that pales in comparison to what he can find in her features.

Robin nods, imperceptible to every other soul in this universe. Every soul that is not him, attuned to her every move, every twitch of a brow, every hint of a frown, and every gesture that she dares him to overlook if only to have an excuse later on.

But she nods. And Steve swallows.

"It's him. He's back."

It's the captain who nods now, incapable of doing anything else, and feeling as his sanity slips away from him, through the cracks in the floorboards and sinking down to the bottom of the ocean to join his heart and his conscience. All have long been lost at the cause of one man.

"Thank you," he says, though his voice does not feel like his own, and the candle beside him flickers once more as if to signal that, really, he shouldn't be sounding like that. He blinks, deliberately, because he has been staring for too long and she doesn't need to know that he has been losing himself since the second she appeared at the door.

"Steve–"

"That's Captain to you."

She swallows, defiant, but choosing her battles wisely. He is grateful, for he hasn't the strength to argue any more than he has the strength to stand upright in this moment.

"Captain," she says, deliberate but gentle, because she knows and she forgives. "Are you alright?"

"No," Steve says, and his voice remains remarkably steady in this confession. "I'll be out in a second. Make sure they do not to say a word to him. Shoot everyone who does, or throw them overboard. Nobody talks to The– to Munson but me. Understood?"

"Understood," she says, straightening her posture, though her eyes remain worried and wary. There is more she wants to say, but Steve dismisses her before leaning his fists on the table and breathing deeply. The tip of the quill buries deeper into his palm and he closes his fingers around it, hard, to keep himself anchored and distract from one pain with another.

Theo is back. Theodore Munson. Though he will have a new name, Steve knows. But those eyes... Those eyes never changed, not once in all this time, and Steve fears that he will break apart if he has to look at them again and find no ounce of recognition. No memory of words whispered in the dark, of gentle touches to roughest scars, of time spent together in different lifetimes.

Steve plucks the tip soiled in ink and blood from his palm and reaches for a book hidden underneath a false bottom in the first drawer of the desk. A book with the initials T M pressed into fine, deep red leather.

He writes, with blood and ink in unsteady hold,

27th March He came is back. I wish he weren't.

@vampeddie remember me talking about this before i disappeared? remember how you went insane? remember that you like me?

[solarmorrigan]

80s Vampire Movie Steddie AU

No listen hear me out

Steve is working the closing shift Friday night at Family Video (open until midnight. Fucking awful if you ask Steve)

It’s just after eleven and it’s been a surprisingly quiet night. It looks like he might actually get out of here on time for once, instead of being held up by annoying, indecisive customers who leave the store a mess

Aaaand he spoke too soon, because someone just came barreling in through front doors, panting and wild-eyed like they’re being chased by the hounds of hell (or the cops)

(Why do the weird ones always come in on Steve’s shift?)

But then Steve does a double take, because he actually recognizes this guy. Long hair, patched vest, chains–

“Munson?”

It is indeed Eddie Munson, resident drug dealer and fucking nerd of Hawkins High. He’d been doubled over, hands on his knees while trying desperately to catch his breath, but Steve’s voice seems to shock him back into action; he scrambles for the front doors and turns the lock with fumbling fingers

Shit

“Hey, man,” Steve says slowly, watching as Eddie backs away from the doors again, “I don’t want any trouble.”

Eddie looks at Steve for the first time since entering the store, and Steve is simultaneously reassured that he’s not about to be robbed, and put on edge by whatever put that look of terror on Eddie’s face

“There’s–” Eddie gasps, still trying to get his breath back, “There’s something after me!”

“Something? Like what? Like– like a dog?” Steve rounds the counter to stand by Eddie, the hairs on the back of his neck standing up (he still remembers those fucking vicious junkyard dogs he and Dustin’s friends had run into when they’d been out searching for Dustin’s cat; Steve still can’t hear barking without jumping a little)

“No, man.” Eddie shakes his head hard, hair flying. “It was – It was like–”

“Dude, spit it out.”

“Okay, look, I was doing a deal. Met my buyer at the park, next street over, right? And we’re just finishing up when this – he just looked like a guy, he walked up, and I thought we were busted, but instead, he – it–” Eddie swallows hard. “It grabbed my buyer and fucking – it ripped her fucking throat out.”

“What?”

“It had these crazy red eyes and fucking fangs and I think it was, like– drinking her blood?” Eddie’s voice is shrill, clearly still panicked, but all of Steve’s alarm quickly plummets into annoyance

He might not be a pop culture nerd, but the kids have forced him to sit through Fright Night enough times for Steve to know where this is going

“Drinking her blood, huh?” Steve asks flatly. “Like a vampire.”

“I fucking guess!” Eddie shouts, digging his fingers into his hair and tugging

Steve rolls his eyes. “Okay, man, I think you’ve been hitting your own stock a little too hard. Just take a couple of deep breaths and–”

“Harrington, I’m not making this up!” Eddie snaps, rounding on Steve. “I’m not fucking hallucinating, there’s something out there!”

Holding his hands up placatingly, Steve nods. “I know you’re freaked out right now, but there’s no such thing as vampires.”

“Tell that to the girl whose fucking throat just got ripped out!”

“Munson–”

The argument is interrupted when someone—or something—slams against the front doors

[morganbritton132]

Eddie, shoving his phone in Steve’s face: Stevie, the people want to know. When was the last time you were in a fight?

Steve, thinking about it: Like a fist fight? Uh, when I jumped that asshole that tackled Erica when she was eleven and tried to break her arm.

Eddie, opening his mouth to speak:

Eddie, closing his mouth:

Eddie: First, that’s not the last fight you’ve been in. We got into a bar fight. Twice.

Eddie: Second, what the actual fuck, Steve? When did that happen?

Steve: She was attacked when the Creel plan went to shit.

Eddie: Yeah, I know. Obviously that fucking awful what happened to her and everything, but when the fuck did you have time to jump somebody and why did I never hear about it?

Steve: You were in the hospital.

Eddie:

Eddie: You started fight with - with Andy McGann’s psycho ass when you still had stitches?! Steve, you developed pneumonia from nearly drowning while I was in the hospital. You-

Steve: Why’d you ask me this? Did you want to have an argument?

[adelacreations]

Vampire Barbie by Add and @mangywayway! As seen on TV! He's so much more than a pretty face!

[Creators are not responsible for the following: the doll coming to alive. Potentially harm to the owner which includes, stabbing, blood drinking. Their counterpart Steve Harrington sold seperately. Blood IS included in the package]

A little collab between me and Way! They drew the lineart and I coloured the whole thing! Based on an outfit that I sent them on Instagram and was like, 'Lord Billy would WEAR this'

[infinite-orangepeel]

steve and eddie and steddie as textposts round 2

[space-invading-pigeon]

Eddie will offer to put a curse on someone that bothers a member of the Party, but the worst he does is follow them around and recite Mary Had A Little Lamb in elvish. Eddie is good for comfort, though; he has no issue making a fool of himself if it will get a laugh out of someone, and his Wayne's Famous Hot Chocolate Recipe is something that makes even the broodiest family members smile.

Steve will not offer anything. He usually just listens, lets them get whatever happened off their chest. At first, the Party doesn't think he cares, until their usual tormentors are suddenly too afraid to come near them.

Steve likes to smile sweetly at whoever bothers his kids. He reminds them that he's a Harrington and can't be touched, and then takes his nail bat to their car. If they don't seem properly scared, he'll let them know that he only gives one warning.

Will, Max, Erica, and El prefer to talk to Steve first when someone upsets them, Max because she likes how fast Steve goes from dumb big brother to protective big brother, Will and El because they like having someone who is so steadfastly in their corner that small things like the law don't get in the way. Erica likes that Steve knows how to get away with it.

Lucas, Mike, and Dustin like to go to Eddie first, mostly because Eddie's go-to for cheering people up is the most delicious thing they've ever had. Mike is also just a little scared of how fast Steve can go from boy next door to horror story without even changing out of his dumb pastel sweaters.