#Prince!steve Harrington | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

stevesxyellowxsweater · 3 months

Text

Satisfied

PAIRING: Prince!Steve Harrington x Reader WC: 3k CW: Minors do not interact!! No use of y/n, very few uses of feminine pronouns, I believe that it is fairly gender neutral. Reader wears makeup, and a pink puffy outfit also called maid of honour. (Please kindly correct me if I'm wrong.) Angst, heartbreak, mentions sadness, cheating if you squint. SUMMARY: It's time to celebrate your sister's wedding! What a wonderful celebration you'll have... if only you were the bride. Based on Hamilton's song Satisfied AUTHOR NOTES: Here is my first ever fic based off of a song, so please be gentle with me! This is a total labour of love and I hope you all enjoy it. @entermxnson I love you, thank you so much for the support and always reading my work it means a lot. @reidsbtch thank you for reading it for me and giving your opinion. Credit to @cafekitsune for the amazing dividers.

The door shook as you flung it open, rushing inside desperate for a moment of solace. The tears you'd been fighting since the beginning of the ceremony were already starting to slip from your eyes as you slammed the bathroom stall shut. Sitting on the toilet seat you watched the awful pink plume of a dress your sister chose rise for a moment. Anger and frustration caused you to fight it down to reach for the tissue as the tears truly began to fall.

Nothing felt right, everything inside you just hurt. Having to watch the man you love marry another woman ripped your heart in two. Maybe you would have learnt to deal with it, but the person he married was your sister. Mascara tears flowed down your face, you were unable to stop them. He looked so handsome today, he looked so perfect. But he wasn't yours, he was hers. Prince Steve Harrington chose his bride and that was your younger sister.

The door to the bathroom opened, and heels clicked gently as someone entered the room. “It's almost time for your toast.” It was your youngest sister, did she know you were crying? Did she know you loved your sister's husband? “Dad is about to start.” You wiped your eyes and steadied yourself, hoping that she'd not hear the sadness in your voice as you spoke. “I'll be right out, this damn dress is a pain to go to the bathroom in.”

She laughed, she didn't know. “I'll tell Dad to start, maybe Dustin can give his speech before you.” You smiled, thankful at the idea. “I'll be right there.” You said once more. There was a pause and your heart thumped hard as you thought she was going to say more. “Okay.” She finally said before her heels clicked away and the door swished open and shut. You sat there in science for a moment, the tears still wanting to trickle down your face. But you knew you needed to lock them away.

Standing up, you stepped out of the stall to see the damage your tears had done to your war paint. Fixing it the best you could, you then took several deep breaths and left the bathroom to face your doom. You hated public speaking, but you had to do this, you had to because she'd begged you to stand here and raise a glass in front of the royals, in front of his friends and your friends. In front of Billy Hargrove, you should've agreed to date all those years back instead of telling him he disgusted you.

Stepping into the room, you could feel a sinking feeling in your stomach as you approached Dustin Henderson and the microphone. “Alright, alright. Here's the moment we've all been waiting for, give it up for the maid of honour!” You smiled gently and took the microphone as everyone around you clapped. Taking a deep breath, you stared at the floor trying to focus. You needed to speak, you needed to say something but your heart was aching, your stomach swirling, and you just wanted to run away. “I’m not much for public speaking, so I’m going to keep this short and sweet.” You said with a gentle and almost awkward laugh.

You stared at the floor for a moment, trying to come up with words. You were meant to have something written, but you hadn’t been able to. Each time you tried to put something on paper all you could do was think about Steve and how he was meant to be yours. How he should’ve been yours. Now it was dooms day and here you were, nothing prepared and all fucking eyes were on you. You could always wing it, no one would know. Right?

Snapping out of your trance, you looked up and smiled. “A toast to the groom.” You said lifting your glass to the room. “And to the bride, from your sister who is always by your side.” You said with a smile and placed a hand on your chest. You did love her, even if your heart was shattered, she was your best friend. “To your union, and the hope that you provide to everyone here.” You smiled around the room as your cup was lifted high. “May you always…” your eyes landed on Steve, his eyes were glued to yours. His long fingers held his champaign flute high as he watched you. “Be satisfied.”

As the words left your mouth, as your eyes took in the sight of the man you loved, he slowly lowered his glass while everyone toasted. The pair of you stared deep into each other's eyes, unable to look away. The world around you began to rewind and go back to that night that you would regret for the rest of your days. The night you met and lost the only person who you ever wanted, and you gave up for family.

The lights twinkled like candlelight, it felt like a dream as you and your sisters arrived at the party. From the moment you stepped inside the ballroom, eligible men began to fawn over the three of you, desperate to get your attention. Your family was well off, and everyone knew it. Weaving through the crowd, you got yourself a glass of champagne and swayed to the music enjoying the scene around you for a moment as you stood alone.

Several men had approached you while you enjoyed your time people-watching, not a single one was interesting to you at all. Hargrove, Munson, Byers. With a simple smile and a decline of dancing, they moved on quickly to other women, some trying your sisters, some approaching Nancy Wheeler or Tammy Thompson. None of them mattered to you, even interested you. They didn’t make your heart race.

But then you saw him.

Everything changed in that moment, you knew you'd never be the same again. Those beautiful eyes, that perfectly crafted jaw. Slender body, he looked muscular even if he looked a tad skinny. His eyes locked to yours, and it was as if time stood still for a moment. He began to move fighting against the sea to meet you. Straight across the dance floor, bumping into couples, his eyes never leaving you for a second.

Maybe it was gravity, he was the sun and you were a planet. Or maybe he was a magnet attracting you with an intensity that you had never felt before. Either way, you made your way to him, meeting near the edge of the dance floor. Your eyes focused on each other, neither daring to look away.

“Hi.” Your heart skipped a beat as he continued to stare deep into your soul. His voice was as silky smooth as caramel. What was a proper greeting? What was your name again? You couldn't remember as you stared at him, fuck how could someone have such an effect on you? This never happened to you before, you weren’t that sort of person.

“Hi.” You finally managed to say. He smiled and stretched his hand out. “May I have this dance?” He questioned, before he could even finish his sentence your hand was on his. His touch set you on fire, every part of you aflame.

Moving to the dance floor, the pair of you began to dance. His arm around your waist as he held your hand, your other resting on his shoulder. Your bodies moved close together, an intense desire bubbling between the two of you, that neither of you had ever felt before. You couldn’t take your eyes off of his face. The way moles littered his face, how his hair just fell perfectly in place almost like he wasn’t even trying. Was this what love felt like?

“You strike me as a person who has never been satisfied.” The way he spoke in your ear sent your stomach twisting, desperation and desire bubbling up inside of you. You were practically salivating as you felt yourself becoming turned on by his voice. “I’m sure I don't know what you mean, you forget yourself.” You replied looking up at him. He was bold, and you liked it.

He smiled, a boyish smile on his face. “You're like me, I'm never satisfied.” His face was close to yours, you could feel his breath on your face as you thought about what it would be like to feel his lips on yours. Biting your lip, you looked up at him attempting to keep your composure. “Is that right?” You asked, unable to stop the smile from breaking through. “I've never been satisfied.” He whispered to you. Your eyes met as your lips moved close to each other’s. You didn’t feel like you could breathe, you wanted him.

You told him your name with a smile, proud of your family. “Steve Harrington.” He replied. “Where is your family from?” He smiled and shook it off. “Unimportant, there's a million things I haven’t done, so just you wait.” He told you as his forehead touched yours. His hands fidgeting didn't go unnoticed, or the way he looked away for a moment. It was like he was hiding something.

He was so graceful on his feet, his eyes were locked to yours at each moment. You couldn't stop smiling. Even as the song ended, you were meant to clap for the band. But Steve kept hold of your hand, not wanting to let you go. He escorted you to the side so you could talk more.

You began to talk about literature, about science, and so much more. He was like you, you had so much in common. You'd never before met someone who matched your wit. What was the catch? He seemed too good to be true, was it possible to see find your soulmate tonight?

You couldn't stop the hopeful feeling inside you. You rarely found someone that you had so much in common with, and yet here you were. Steve Harrington, the man who came from nowhere and wormed his way into your heart with only a few minutes of your time.

Of course you couldn't help but notice how much of a flirt he was, the way he touched your arm, the way he gazed into your eyes. His smile was causing you to melt on the spot, for heat to pool between your legs. You needed him more than you could ever begin to admit.

He was so handsome, and he clearly knew it. Your eyes studied his jaw and how his beard fuzz was beginning to settle in. His eyes were the most captivating thing you'd ever seen and the way his face was decorated with moles and freckles. Were they all over his body? You questioned mentally as he spoke, saying something to make you laugh.

You decide that you want to take him away, that you want to be alone with him, that privacy was something you were desperate for with Steve. You were in society, of course you shouldn't be thinking about what the pair of you could do alone, but it was so very tempting. Alone with Steve, a place where your lips could meet and the pair of you could give into the hunger that you both felt.

Turning to lead him away, your eyes landed on your sister across the room. Her eyes were on Steve and you suddenly realized the look she had on her face, she was in love. She was helpless as she gazed at Steve, she wanted him as badly as you did and as you stared at her you began to realize three reasons you shouldn't be with him.

“Where are you taking me?” You heard Steve ask, your hand still holding his. “I'm about to change your life.” You tell him with a smile. “Then by all means lead the way.” He said his fingers brushing over yours as he smiled. You know that this is the last moment he will be yours, the last minute that you will ever see him look at you that way.

Number one.

You were the oldest, it was your job to marry a well off man who could help take care of your father when he was old. You were the best choice though, even if you did say so yourself. But from the insidious gossip that echoed throughout the town Steve was penniless… but that didn't mean you wanted him any less.

You watched your sister introduce herself to Steve, a shy but bold smile as she looked at him. His eyes looked toward you as he heard the last name. “She's my sister.” You said with a charming grin.

Number two.

He was only after you because of your last name, you'd be naive to ignore that. He knew you were rich, he knew that it would set him on the right path. You couldn't have someone using you, so your sister seemed like the better option. Of course if you'd of realized the truth, if you knew who he was you'd have kept him for yourself.

Watching as the two of them spoke, the way he held her hand and placed a kiss on it, it hurt. He was meant to be yours, he should've been yours. “I'll leave you to it.” You walked away, your hand moving to your chest as you did, it hurt. You were in so much pain at the loss of him. If you'd of looked back you'd have seen his eyes on you asking you to stay, asking for you.

Number three.

You knew your like you knew yourself, she was a good person and if you told her that you loved him she'd resign and he'd be yours. But you couldn't do that to her, you couldn't tell her that. Even if you told her that you loved him, and she told you that it was fine to have him. You knew she would've been lying. Glancing back for just a moment, you felt your heart breaking. He was no longer yours.

As your words for your toast echoed around you, you glanced down at the glass in your hand. You tried your best to keep your emotions in check. Looking up you smiled, before walking away. You didn't want to stay here, you couldn't stand it.

Stepping out into cool night air, your hands held onto your chest. Every night since you first met you think about him, you'd fantasize about his eyes and each little part of him. You wished you'd not sized him up so quickly. It had been the biggest blow when you discovered he was a prince.

Tears began to trickle down your cheeks, at least you knew your sister would be happy as his bride. You'd never seen her so fucking happy. Even if you were miserable, at least she was. You honestly didn't care about the crown, didn't care that he was royal or rich, you only cared about him. But now your sister was his princess.

A jacket wrapped around your shoulders, cutting the cold from reaching you. You didn't need to turn around to know who it was, you could smell the expensive cologne. His presence always caused your heart to flutter. It always made your stomach twisted and made you feel nervous.

It was Steve.

“You strike me as a person who has never been satisfied.” He said in your ear, you could feel his touch, feel his hands on your waist and it was driving you insane.”I don't know what you mean, you forget yourself.” You whisper gently as you turn your head to look at him.

Your bodies were close, his hands on your arms, his breath in your ear. You just wanted him to hold you and tell you it was okay. Sighing gently you bit your lip. “You're like me, I'll never be satisfied.” He whispered to the point you could feel his lips on your ear.

“You shouldn't have said that in your toast.” Turning around you looked at him, your tears shon in the light. Slowly Steve reached up and wiped away your tears. “I don't care…” you whispered your voice breaking as you spoke. Without a word he pulled you into a hug and held onto you tightly.

You could feel his large hands on your back, the way he held you made you wish that you didn't just have to fantasize about him. But you knew that your sister would be happy as his bride, you couldn't do that to her. You didn't have it in your heart to hurt her.

Pulling back slightly, you looked into Steve’s eyes. His fingers moved to brush your hair from your face. “I will never be satisfied.” He whispered as he kept his eyes on you, unable to look away. You wanted so desperately to just have one kiss, just a single kiss with him. But you couldn't, he wasn’t yours.

Hearing calls of his name he glanced back toward the hall and sighed. Leaning forward he pressed his head against yours for a moment. Just soaking in that feeling of how losing a soulmate felt. You stood together, foreheads pressing to each other for maybe a moment before he stepped away.

Slipping off his jacket, you pushed it into his hand. It seemed as he took it his scent went with him. He looked you in the eyes one last time, glaning down you sighed as you heard his footsteps recede. It felt like he was walking out of your life forever. Looking up, you watched him as he glanced at you one last time before he left to go back inside to find his bride. As he disappeared in the crowd, the sadness bubbled over and the tears started once more.

“He will never be satisfied.” You whispered as you took a seat on a bench, your hands wiped away your tears as his lingering touch faded from you. “I will never be satisfied.”

Tag list: @entermxnson @mrprettywhenhecries @shescreamslikeachild @halflifejess @keerysfolklore @stveharringtn @darleenjade @reidsbtch @inourtownofhawkins @tsukillama @southerngothicchic @artheauxyongguk @bubbblessss @eddie-steve1986 @wroteclassicaly @freckledjoes @kingstevc @lesservillain @rattkween86 @take-everything-you-can @we-out-here-simping @stevesbeautifulhair @honey-eyed-munson @teen--marvel @corrodeddeadlydoll @pumpkinonice @diffrent-spokes @megxplryxb @cherryflavoredchapsticck @season4steve @sh0rtcakee @joekeerysmoles @littleplushpumpkin @eddielove @sweetdazequeen @sweetsweetjellybean @yourfavoritewitchbitch @bunnyhargrove

I have tagged people who have either interacted with this post, are a mutual who i hope wants to read it, or you've shown interest in it. please note if you haven't been tagged and you did interact with the post it's either A. because your age wasn't on your blog, b. because your tag wasn't showing up.

REBLOGS ARE LOVE, REMEMBER THAT PEOPLE

#Steve Harrington x reader #reader x Steve Harrington #Steve harrington one shot #steve Harrington x you #You x Steve Harrington #steve harrington x gn!reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #Prince!steve Harrington #Steve Harrington au #steve Harrington imagine #Steve Harrington imagines #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfic #Stranger things fanfic #stranger things one shot #satisfied

106 notes · View notes

ghostlyfleur · 6 months

Note

I saw you reposted that mermaidcore moodboard and it just got me thinking of Prince!Steve Harrington x Mermaid!Reader and how absolutely magical it would be 🩵🫧🤩

s h i t

i think about that sometimes too, but not in a little mermaid au, y’know? more in a she’s-sorta-witchy-so-she-can-change-between-tail-or-legs kind of way. a little bit like the mermaids in pirates of the caribbean too! a little evil and manipulative and likes playing mean tricks on people, sorta like fairies, and sorta like tinkerbell in that pouty / grumpy way of hers.

but she falls for stevie and he’s the only one she’s ever soft for… instead of playing tricks on him, she leaves him little gifts. instead of manipulating him into things, she praises him constantly. instead of using him, she becomes his protector. definitely plays evil pranks on whoever is mean to him.

“think you got a soft spot for me”

“you should be so lucky”

she’s a grump, always serious, doesn’t socialize with anyone, maybe giving off some wednesday addams vibes? yeah, i like that. but she melts for her stevie, even though she tries to hide it— he can see right through her.

87 notes · View notes

hornedqueenofhell · 7 months

Text

Mind if I Drop in? Pt 1

Crossposted from AO3

Eddie wheezes as he spins around another corner, praying he’s put enough distance between him and the rest of the guards for this to work. Stupid fucking castle hallways always looking the same, like would it kill you to put out any artwork? Or just stick one of those directional signs you see at a fork in the road somewhere. Something like ‘dungeon two lefts then a right, thieves of valuable family heirlooms take a right, two lefts, then go up two floors to escape with your goods’. Eh that one might be too wordy.

He shoves the stolen crown in his bag and fishes around in the worn leather for the scroll he needs. Loose papers, no. Song lyrics on scraps of paper, no! …Aha! Bless Dustin he thinks as he pulls out the spell scroll.

“Alright Henderson, let’s hope this works.” He huffs as he lifts his bag onto his back.

Eddie can hear the footsteps and clanking armor get closer as he carefully breaks the seal and unfurls the scroll, taking great care not to touch the sigil until the paper is flat on the ground.

“Freeze!” He hears as the guard catches sight of him. Eddie just grins and gives the man, who is sporting a fantastic mustache in the bards opinion, a cheeky salute as he slaps his hand to the sigil and lets the Teleportation spell activate.

Now, Eddie’s not used to teleportation spells so he doesn’t exactly expect to stick the landing, he is just a simple bard afterall. But he’s definitely not expecting the spell to dump him on his back in a familiar tavern, right into the arms of a stranger. A stranger with very familiar hazel eyes that he must have passed at least three portraits of on his way in. A stranger whose crown is currently sitting in Eddie’s bag.

“Umm, who the hell are you?” The stranger… oh who the fuck is he kidding, Steve Harrington the crown prince asks him. Eddie scrambles out of his arms, knocking over not only the princes’ full cup of beer but also the empty stool next to the prince which falls with a loud clatter and only draws more attention to them.

Steve cringes at the display and tugs his cloak tighter around him. Eddie kind of wants to point out that he’s drawing more attention to himself by keeping his hood up but he was supposed to be in the next town over where his horse and his friends are waiting for him, not here in the arms of the man he just stole from. What the fuck Henderson?!

“Just a bard, got a wonky teleportation scroll is all. I deeply apologize your Highness.” Eddie sweeps into a bow sinking low enough his curls brush the ground. He kinda figured Steve would be pissed about the rough landing and the spilled drink but he’s not expecting the hand over his mouth as Steve manhandles him back to standing.

The prince now has him pinned to the bar, his eyes wild as he glances around to see if anyone heard Eddie, which they very much so did. Eddie never had much of an indoor voice. Steve's hood is slipping off and Eddie reaches out to fix it, not that it matters much. He is surprised though to see Steve flinch when Eddie’s hand comes into view, and not in the ‘oh you surprised me' way.

Before he can ask Steve to unhand him the door to the tavern opens. Several palace guards storm in, weapons drawn.

“Nobody move!” The leader shouts, unfortunately Eddie recognizes him too, and so does Steve from the way fear leaks into his eyes. The guard almost immediately clocks their awkward position and it only takes a second more for the guard to recognize them both. “Freeze!” He shouts and Eddie rolls his eyes.

“Why do they always say that?” He mutters behind Steve’s hand, Steve turns to look at him again in the same moment Eddie grabs a fistful of the inside of Steve’s cloak. Perfect. With a twist of his fingers and a few words Eddie snaps his fingers, sacrificing the handful of fleece he’d grabbed, and causing an illusionary fog to fill the tavern.

Now the entire tavern is shouting and shifting around as Eddie ducks from Steve’s grasp.

“Come on, this way.” Eddie says, grabbing Steve’s arm and pulling him past the stools and out through the back door with ease. Why Eddie did it even he’s not sure, but he’s made his bed now. Sending out a mental apology to his uncle for making a mess in the man's tavern he pulls Steve down the street and through a few more alleys.

Steve struggles against him a bit, “Where are you taking me, let go! Let go of me!”

Eddie yanks them into the mouth of an alley and this time he’s the one throwing Steve against something.

“Unless you want to get us both in trouble I suggest you shut up right now, with all due politeness your Highness.” Eddie hisses, his fingers are likely bruising the hinge of Steve’s jaw but he doesn’t let up. Steve has one hand wrapped around the wrist gripping him, the other he barely notices until the silver glints in the moonlight and Steve swings at him.

“I’m not going back there.” Steve is just as venomous as Eddie springs back before the prince can gut him.

“I don’t give a fuc-” The guards clanking closer causes both of their eyes to widen. Eddie reaches for his belt and lunges at Steve. Metal clashes as their daggers meet between their bodies. Eddie bodily forces Steve back into the wall, panic giving him enough of a burst of strength to catch the younger man off guard.

“Now, either you behave like a good little princess or I’ll fucking gut you right here and now.” Eddie’s lips brush against Steve’s as the lie spills between them. Eddie hates killing, is barely capable of hunting for himself when the moment calls for it. Stevie doesn’t need to know that though.

“You even try and I’ll scream. You’ll be hanged by sunrise.” Steve bites in response, their daggers grinding against each other but neither of them willing to try anything risky to disarm the other.

Eddie’s free hand flashes out and grips a fistful of Steve’s hair yanking his head back harshly. He isn’t expecting the breathy cry that leaves the prince's lips, he clearly wasn’t either going by the flush crawling across his face.

“Oh princess, if you wanted me to make you scream. All you have to do is ask.” Eddie purrs, placing a kiss to the side of Steve’s throat.

Eddie is ashamed to admit that he was distracted enough by the feeling of Steve going boneless in his arms that he didn’t see the prince move. He’s placing an apology kiss to the hinge of Steve’s jaw, fully intent on working his way further in when Steve shoves him off.

They go crashing into the other side of the alley, it’s really not a very wide space, and this time it’s Eddie’s back against the wall. He can feel the points of his stolen prize digging into his back. Before he can make another snarky comment or threat Steve has Eddie’s curls wrapped around his fist and is returning the favor. Eddie moans out, dagger slipping from his grasp as he scrabbles at the wall under Steve. The prince presses the tip of his dagger to Eddie’s abdomen, Eddie thrashes around and manages to get his hand around Steve’s wrist between them. Trying to force the point of it away from his squishy parts, thank you very much. Steve yanks on his hair again, taking advantage of their position to leverage his height against Eddie.

“Well, it looks like you have the same weakness.” Steve smirks, his tongue darts out to wet his lips and brushes over Eddie’s lower lip. They’re panting in each other's mouths now, hands not fighting for the dagger between them gripped onto each other's person.

“I’ve never minded a little pain with my pleasure, your highness.” Eddie pulls against the grip on his curls to capture Steve’s bottom lip between his teeth and give him a sharp nip. He tugs on that sweet fullness as Steve pulls him away, his skull cradled in Steve’s fingers instead of colliding with the brick.

Pt 2

#stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steve x eddie #dustin henderson #bard!eddie munson #prince!steve harrington #prince steve harrington #bard eddie munson #teleportation scroll gone wrong #steddiefic chronicles

97 notes · View notes

bound-vivisection · 10 months

Text

Hic sunt dracones

Rating: Explicit

The day that Prince Steven Harrington turns twenty is the first sunny spring day after a seemingly endless spell of heavy rain that left the castle grounds drowning in mud and its inhabitants freezing and miserable in the inescapable dampness of everything.

But that is not why he will remember it so vividly for the rest of his life.

It is also the day that his father, King Richard, chooses to ride off into war with great fanfare, to strengthen the glory of Hawkins and expand its wealth and territory.

But this also isn’t why the day will be forever ingrained in his memory.

No, the actual reason Steve knows that he will not forget his twentieth birthday until the moment his heart stops beating and his eyes close forever is an entirely different one.

It is the day he finds the dragon.

Writer: @just-my-latest-hyperfixation

#i really loved this fic and wanted to draw something for it #steddie #dragon!eddie munson #prince!steve harrington #steddie dragon au

74 notes · View notes

dwobbitfromtheshire · 1 year

Text

The Pirate's Most Valuable Treasure

When Prince Stephen Harrington gets stolen in the night by a desperate pirate, he never thinks he will fall in love, and he never thought it would be with a man let alone the most notorious pirate amongst the seven seas. Edward Munson never meant to kidnap the king's son that night, but it might have ended up being the best thing he would ever do. He also ended up NOT returning the prince. Woops.

#stranger things #eddie munson #joseph quinn #stranger things s4 #eddie stranger things #stranger things fanart #fanart #steve harrington #eddie munson lives #steddie #steve x eddie #steddie au #stranger things prompt #fanfiction writing prompt #pirate!eddie munson #prince!steve harrington

21 notes · View notes

fizzigigsimmer · 1 year

Text

All The Kings Men

Chapter 13

Seduction was one of the few mental subjects Steve had never disappointed in during his education. Maths, not so much, but sex and manipulation, that he had always been a protégé in. His peers had taken these courses lightly seeing them as a mere excuse to get their dicks wet and tumble their first house subs. But the tenants, philosophies and hallmarks of seduction all had to be learned to more effectively guard ones self from its use by an enemy; but as a particularly insightful teacher had once imparted to him, ‘if you can control a man’s desire you need never pick up a sword. For even the gods fall to vanities and passions of the flesh.’

Read it on AO3

#harringrove #steve x billy #Billy Hargrove #Steve Harrington #pirate!billly hargrove #prince!steve harrington #alpha omega #alpha!billy hargrove #omega!steve harrington #dom!billy hargrove #sub!steve harrington #fantasy au #merpeople #sirens #mermaids #mermaid!Billy Hargrove #mermaid!steve harrington

14 notes · View notes

pastel-horrors · 2 years

Text

Seven Seas of Rhye

Summary :

The prince and his fiancé get kidnapped right out of their window by a daring pirate crew in hopes to pawn off the future king and queen for ransom. Soon they find out their engagement is mostly false and the Prince’s parents won’t even care that he's missing. It also doesn’t help that the crew falls for the two quickly at want them to stay.

Tags :

Alternate Universe - Pirate, Enemies to Lovers, Established Relationship, Eventual Smut, Eddie is the only one who talks like a pirate, prince!Steve Harrington, Pirate!Eddie Munson, POV Multiple, Multiple Relationships, side Jonathan and Argyle, side lumax, Side Byler, Other Additional Tags to Be Added

#stranger things #steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #steve x eddie #fanfic #Pirate au #alternate universe - pirate #Prince!Steve Harrington #Pirate! Eddie Munson #ronance #robin buckley #nancy wheeler #robin x nancy #I promise both relationships will be pretty center I know ronance gets tossed to the side !#but as a lesbian i love pining and falling for women so i will write the most sappy ily story i can #Lady!Nancy Wheeler #Pirate!Robin Buckley

20 notes · View notes

luveline · 8 months

Note

Omg ok Jade my love can I request a princess soulmate au with Steve? Where reader is Prince Steve’s soulmate but maybe she’s not royal herself and is struggling a bit with being the future princess?

Almost like similar vibes to some of the loser gf with rockstar Sirius things you’ve done

thank you sm for your request! (sci-fi fairytale au) prince!steve

cw talk of losing weight to fit into a dress

Prince Steven sits across from you with a bowl of grapes and a pair of embroidery scissors. He's going to stab me, you think morosely. I'm wretched and boring and he's going to stab me and then the stars will give him another soulmate and he'll forget this whole misfortune.

He seems lost for words as you are, or uninterested. You think he's going to talk and he eats another grape instead, hair fluttering in the breeze that filters in from the balcony, his eyes trained on the holoscreen. He's pretty —soft face, softer hair, almond shaped eyes that seem perpetually amused— but more alarmingly, he's fit. Physically fit from years of sports. Royals do all manner of olympiad competition, evident in his toned shoulders and his sun-kissed skin.

"How's your embroidery?" he asks suddenly.

You startle, pretending you'd been attending to that rather than staring at him uselessly. "It's going well, Prince Steven," you lie. You've never embroidered before —you have practical sewing skills for darning scuffed trousers and patching elbows, but embroidery is a labour of time. Time is a luxury you haven't had.

"Steve," he corrects.

"Do I… Is it really okay for me to call you that? Won't people think I'm presumptuous?"

"Ten dollar word." He slides the bowl toward you, a beautifully glazed ceramic piece that likely cost more than your month's rent. "Well, they usually let me have whatever I want, and I want you to call me Steve. And to relax. And eat more."

"I can't. They said I need to fit into my wedding dress."

"The wedding dress needs to fit you," Steve says, the simple cut of his button down pulled snug to his chest as he leans back in his chair. "Not the other way around. Is that why you didn't eat much at breakfast? Or was it just gross?"

"It wasn't gross," you say softly.

"You don't have to do any of that stuff, either, if it's boring."

You run your finger down the creamy linen stretched between your bamboo hoops. "I don't know if it's boring. I can barely do it."

"You're too mean to yourself," he says.

Steve stands and puts his arm behind his head, pushing his elbow until something clicks. Embarrassed by his dismissal, you stare at your hands and fume at yourself when they begin to tremble.

It's too much. All of it. The cruel Palace attendants who know you're not good enough. Steve and his good nature. The wedding dress, the fine China, your wonky stitches.

Steve steps to your side. He holds out his hand, and you pass him your embroidery without meeting his eyes. Your mood worsens at the sharp slink of snipping, sure that Steve will cut your pattern from the sketch and tell you to start again.

"Sorry, your white knot at the back was bothering me. Pass me a slimmer needle? I'll tuck it behind your stitches."

Astonished, you pass Steve a smaller needle from the pin cushion. His brows creases gently as he works, rewiring the white thread with patience and efficiency.

"There. It looks really nice, honey. You're a fast learner." He passes you the hoop. You take it a beat too slow and he either doesn't notice or doesn't make a fuss, chucking you under the chin softly. "Don't worry so much. I'll talk to Cordelia about your wedding dress, the idea that you need to fit into it like it's one size fits all is dumb. It's made for you. Like, what are they expecting?"

"They're probably hoping this is all a big mistake."

"Did someone say that to you?"

"Nobody had to say it to me, I can tell from the way they look at…" Steve takes your face into his hand, effectively killing anything you'd been trying to say.

He seems royal, then. Used to getting his way, maybe, the disapproving lining of his otherwise sweet eyes. You get a flash of a memory, the morning you'd been presented, Steve in his finery with his platinum crown like a beacon in brown hair, you in your best dress, embarrassingly drab in comparison, your hand offered. He'd been meeting with eligible women all week.

You were there as a formality. Never for a second did you think your soul mark would react to his, lines of light around your opposite wrists.

To think you'd worried about touching him. You could never imagine how beautifully careful he is, how tender. You didn't know men were like this until Steve showed you, his niceness apparently bone deep and in everything he does.

"If people are being jerks, you have to tell me." You never imagined how casual and vulgar he'd be either. "What's the point in being a princess if people don't respect you?"

"I'm not a princess," you say. Your heart is a hummingbird as he turns his hand and strokes your cheeks with the backs of his fingers.

"You will be. Nothing can change that. You're going to be a princess, and you can do as much or as little as you want, because those dorks left me in charge and I say so. I can decree it, if that makes you feel better," he says, dropping his hand, the phantom of it lingering like static shock.

"What if I'm not meant for this?" you ask quietly, shy but terrified enough to ask.

"I was meant for you," he says, tone matching yours in timidity. His sleeves rolled up as they are, you can see the soft light of his soul mark taking a pink hue. "Right?"

Your soul mark glows a gentle pink to match his. Because you and Steve don't know one another well, not yet, but the feeling is there, thrumming under the skin like a pulse. Not love, not not love, a glowing desire. A want to know him.

There have been moments where you wished he wasn't a Prince, but then there's no guarantee you ever would have met.

"Right," you mouth, offering him a small smile.

"We were meant to be together…" Steve bends at the waist, meeting your eyes. He's yet to kiss you in the week since you met, but his touches come braver everyday, the unfamiliarity between you melding into butterflies. His smirk shakes them awake. "So let's be together the way we want to. Think of princess-ing as optional."

"And you as mandatory?"

"I'm also optional," he says with a warm laugh. "But dinner is not. I need to know what you like, if we're going to get married."

You practically gulp. Right. You're going to be his soulmate, his princess, and his wife.

"Don't be scared. I'm not cooking it, chef Joyce is." Steve brushes hair from his eyes like a model from the giant holo screens, unaware of his own attractiveness. "I'm a shitty cook. My talents lie in other things," he drawls grandly, "like lacrosse, and neck massages."

He winks. You laugh genuinely for the first time since you met him, and his face splits with glee.

—

if you want to request anything for this AU please do! steampunk princess soulmate and her smitten prince is my new fave thing

#prince!steve au #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington #steve harrington fic #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington drabble #stranger things x reader #stranger things fic #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things 4

1K notes · View notes

dreaminginpencil · 1 year

Text

The first chapter of However Wild is up and you should be reading it.

The lovely Ayes and Kleo have smashed it once again 💗

#steddie #steve/eddie #eddie/steve #steve harrington/eddie munson #Steve Harrington #Eddie munson #prince steve #fae Eddie #fic: however wild #steddie fanart #steddie art #dreaminginpencil #2k

3K notes · View notes

libraryofgage · 4 months

Text

Harlequin Prince

Part of: Steve Deserves Good Parents, Actually Debbie and Fester Addams One | Two Rick and Evelyn O'Connell One Harley Quinn One (you're here!) 10th Doctor and Rose (on the way! might take a little, I have plans for this one) Scooby Gang (there are also plans for this one lmao, so plz be patient with me orz)

I'm a simple woman who believes Steve deserves to be a little unhinged sometimes, and having Harley Quinn as a mother is the perfect excuse to make that happen lol

Anyway, I know I haven't updated some of my other series in a hot minute; I've just been busy with work and a little sick ngl

If you'd like to be tagged for any new parts in this series, let me know!

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

-------

Steve's earliest memory is of being tucked into bed with a Batman night light plugged into the wall and his mother squeezed in next to him. She's wearing her softest pajamas, and Steve idly rubs the fabric under his thumb. In her lap is a huge book that she flips through, humming "Pop Goes the Weasel" under her breath before finally stopping on a page. "Okay, Dumplin', let's read about Narcissistic Personality Disorder," she finally says, wiggling some to get comfortable before clearing her throat.

Her voice is soft and a little nasally, and Steve obediently closes his eyes when she starts reading. After a few minutes, she gently cards her fingers through his hair, her palm warm as it slides over his scalp. Eventually, he drifts off, his dream so vivid that he still remembers the oversized hammers with their white doctor coats and floating clipboards.

The first time Steve's mother is sent (back) to Arkham, he doesn't realize anything is wrong until Uncle Bruce picks him up from school. Steve had been waiting long after the other kids were picked up by their parents, a misshapen pink-and-blue coaster for his mother that he made in art class in his hands, when one of Uncle Bruce's fancy cars pulled up to the school.

The passenger window rolled down, and Bruce looked almost pained as he met Steve's eyes. "Hop in," he said, leaning over to open the door from the inside.

Steve walked up to the door but didn't get in. "Mom said I should only go home with her," he said, "unless you know our secret code."

"Cognitive Behavioral Therapy."

Steve stood for a moment longer before nodding and climbing into the passenger seat. He closed the door, pulled on his seat belt, and carefully held the coaster in his lap. "Where's Mom?" he asked, watching as Bruce turned down the radio and slowly pulled away from the school.

"Your mother is....going to be away for a while," Bruce said, gripping the steering wheel tighter. "She did something bad, and now she's going to stay in time out because of it."

"Mom says you shouldn't dumb things down just because I'm young. She says it's not good for my development."

Bruce got a slight smile at that, his lips twitching up as he glanced at Steve. "Is that so," he said, his grip on the wheel loosening some. He seemed to think for a moment before saying, "Your mother blew up a warehouse. She was apprehended by Batman and has been sent to Arkham for a few months. Since I'm listed as your godfather, you'll stay with me until she's released."

Steve didn't reply. He just looked down at his coaster and wondered if he'd be able to convince his Uncle Bruce to visit Arkham so he could give it to her.

He did not, in fact, get to visit her at Arkham during that stint. But Steve did get to visit on her next one, which was almost three years later to the day. Steve's first visit to Arkham was on his 8th birthday, and he was chaperoned by Uncle Bruce and Nightwing (he wasn't allowed to call Dick by his real name when he was in costume, so Steve just didn't call him anything at all).

That was also the first time Steve truly experienced Arkham's lax security. Through no fault of his own (and he would continue to argue this point; how did two superheroes let an 8 year old wander off?), Steve had somehow ended up in another part of Arkham altogether.

This hallway had large cells with reinforced glass walls that allowed Steve to look inside. He could name most of the people he passed, recognizing Killer Croc and Riddler and the Penguin by his mother's descriptions of their defining features. Most of them tried talking to Steve, but he pushed ahead, eager to see if his mother was at the end of the hall.

She wasn't. Instead, Steve found another woman. She had green skin and bright red hair and Steve hadn't been able to contain himself. He'd practically squished his face against the glass and asked, "Are you Poison Ivy?"

"Oh, her he talks to," the Penguin said, his tone mean and his voice carrying.

Poison Ivy ignored him, choosing to instead open one eye from where she lay on the bed. She stared at Steve before sitting up. "Do I know you?" she asked.

"Nope! But my mom knows you. She talks about you all the time. She said you're the baddest badass to ever badass," Steve said.

"Oh. You're Harley's kid," Poison Ivy replied, walking over to the glass and crouching down to meet his gaze. "What are you doing all the way over here?"

"It's my birthday, so Uncle Bruce said I could see Mom."

"Well, happy birthday. Now, what are you doing here?"

Steve blinked, looked around the hall again, and realized for the first time that he was, in fact, a bit lost. "Uh, I'm not sure. I was with Uncle Bruce before."

A moment passed between the two of them in which Poison Ivy said nothing while Steve tried to remember how, exactly, he'd ended up here. When he came up blank, he simply shrugged and looked back at her. "Hey, you like plants, right?" he asked.

"Yeah, kid, I like plants," she said, her tone taking on the same inflection his mother's did when he asked something she thinks is obvious.

Steve didn't linger on the tone. Instead, he dug around in his coat pocket for a few seconds, pushing past candy wrappers and erasers until his hand closed around an acorn he'd picked up off the ground a few days ago. He pulled it out and presented it to Poison Ivy on his palm. "Is it still a plant if it fell off the tree?" he asked.

"Yeah," Poison Ivy said, her voice soft like she was staring at something unbelievable. Steve watched as a huge grin spread across her face, her eyes lit up, and she pressed her hands to the glass. "Can you do me a favor, Steve?" she asked.

"Sure! Mom said you're a person I should listen to," he said, starting to close his fingers around the acorn. Now that he was thinking about it, he didn't actually know how to give the acorn to her with the glass between them.

"Your mom is right. You should always listen to me. And her. But mostly me right now," Poison Ivy said, her gaze a bit softer as she looked at Steve. "So, go ahead and put the acorn on the ground and stand as far away as possible."

Steve didn't question her. Whatever Poison Ivy wanted to do would probably be fine. After all, Uncle Bruce didn't warn him about talking to her like he had about the Joker. So, Steve put the acorn down and hurried to the other end of the hall. "Now what?" he shouted.

The only response he got was the acorn shuddering, spinning across the floor, and then bursting open. In the blink of an eye, a tree grew, its roots breaking through the ground and its branches shattering the glass of Poison Ivy's cell. Steve was just thinking that was probably why Poison Ivy told him to stand back when she walked out, rolling her shoulders and breathing like the air is fresh.

She looked at Steve and walked over, standing in front of him for a moment before sweeping him into her arms. "Thanks, kid," she said, opening her hand and letting a tiny purple flower grow from her palm. She tucked it behind Steve's ear. "Now, let's go find your mom."

Of course, Poison Ivy's escape had set off numerous alarms, and Uncle Bruce just about fainted when he saw her carrying Steve while Nightwing looked two seconds from laughing. But Steve's mom had smiled so wide that her cheeks must have hurt after only two seconds when she saw them.

It was, by far, the best birthday Steve had ever had.

‐-----------------------------

Hawkins, Indiana, is...boring. Steve has only been in the town for a few weeks, and he's bored out of his mind. He could have been sent to Metropolis or Central City. Hell, he would have preferred Bludhaven to the absolute snoozefest that is Hawkins. But, no, Uncle Bruce insisted on somewhere safe, which means somewhere boring, which means...Steve will just have to make his own fun.

That's why he's found himself in a dive bar on the edge of town, sitting at the bar as the owner (a woman named Bev who definitely killed her husband; Steve would know, he's met plenty of women who definitely killed their husbands) refuses to give him anything alcoholic. "Listen, kid," she says, her tone hard and unyielding, "I can give you water, a Shirley Temple, or a permanent ban. Which do you prefer."

After a few seconds, Steve sighs, slaps way more money than is necessary on the bar, and says, "Gimme a Shirley Temple."

Bev nods, swipes up the cash, and starts making his drink. He watches her with a slight frown before looking away, noticing another boy his age wiping down a table. He looks, and Steve cannot say this affectionately enough, like a wannabe goon for a motorcycle gang. Between the bandana stuffed into his back pocket, his slightly frizzy hair falling to his shoulders, and the leather jacket/vest combo, the guy is the first reminder of home Steve has seen since arriving in this sleepy town.

When he notices the guy's shoulders tense, Steve looks away to keep from being caught staring. A Shirley Temple is placed in front of him, and Steve represses a sigh, missing the sounds of fights happening behind him as he drinks with Jason.

"Aren't you a little young to be hanging around here?"

Steve slowly takes a sip of his drink, the saccharine cherry flavor washing over his tastebuds, and glances at an older man a few seats down from him. He looks the man over, lingering on the half-tucked shirt, muddy loafers, and circles under his eyes. Without permission, his mother's DSM-V rushes through his mind, a blur of his mother's voice accompanying the page flips. They finally settle on "Adjustment Disorder," accompanied by his mom saying, "Sometimes, that's just a fancy term for a mid-life crisis, Dumplin'."

Without thinking, Steve asks in return, "Aren't you a little old to still be going through a mid-life crisis?"

In Gotham, that might get him a laugh, an eye roll, and possibly an elbow to the ribs from whichever friend accompanied him. Here, it gets him a tense silence that he only thought happened in bad movies gearing up for a fight sequence. Seriously, what is wrong with Hawkins?

"I'll give you one chance to apologize," the guy says, clearly thinking he's being sufficiently threatening.

It takes every ounce of Steve's self-control to keep from laughing at the guy. Does that usually work? Do people usually find this guy threatening? He's got nothing on Alfred, so Steve just can't bring himself to even fake intimidation.

"Yeah, don't hold your breath, man," Steve says, rolling his eyes as he takes another sip. The Shirley Temple isn't bad, but it's not what he was expecting, and it feels like just another disappointment atop a pile of them.

They're building in his chest, now that he thinks about it. Steve is slowly suffocating under the weight of them. They buzz in his lungs, surging through him until the energy is so overwhelming that he has to bounce his leg and tap his finger against his glass to expel some of it. He shouldn't have agreed to leave Gotham, or at the very least, he shouldn't have left the location entirely up to Bruce. Holy shit, that was a dumb decision. He ought to know better.

A sudden, annoyingly harsh drag of chair legs against the floor rings in Steve's ears, making his shoulders tense and his fingers twitch. He looks over to see the guy standing over him, glaring down at Steve like that's supposed to scare him when nothing else has.

Steve sighs, drinking the last of his Shirley Temple before standing. Over the guy's shoulder, he can see the boy his age watching them, and...well, Steve kind of wants to make a good impression on the first person to remind him of home. Plus, a fight sounds great. He'd love a chance to expel some of this disappointment-fueled energy.

The guy suddenly snorts, pulling Steve's attention back. "You're young, kid, so I'll let you off the hook this time around, but learn some respect."

What? Seriously? All of that, and the guy doesn't even start a fight? Does he know how rude that is? He'd get killed in Gotham. "Oh," Steve says, his voice flat, "you're scared of getting your ass kicked."

Somehow, that's what the guy considers the final straw. It wasn't even that good. Like, that's just fucking small talk in Gotham, and Steve can't bring himself to understand what about it was so infuriating that the guy swings his fist.

Either way, Steve happily embraces the fight. His eyes light up, and adrenaline rushes through his veins as he ducks and kicks the guy's left knee. The familiar sound of a bone snapping rings out. Steve's ready for more, hands curled into fists and held up to protect his face, when the guy drops.

After one kick, he drops. Steve blinks, staring down at the guy cursing and holding his knee. He slowly lowers his hands when he realizes this isn't some kind of fake-out diversion and looks at Bev behind the counter. She's frowning at him, hands on her hips, and Steve comes to the conclusion that bar fights are not, in fact, a thing in Hawkins. "Do they usually go down so easy around here?" he asks.

"They usually don't fight at all."

Oh. Holy shit, this place is boring.

Steve sighs and pushes some hair out of his face, frowning slightly. "Well, uh, sorry about the disturbance, then. I'll just...get going," he says, awkwardly pushing his chair in and doing the same for the guy whose kneecap he kicked. Nobody says anything as he leaves, and Steve shoves his hands into his jacket pockets, frustration and disappointment and homesickness building in him.

He's halfway to his car when somebody shouts, "Hey! Wait!"

With a huff, Steve stops and turns, his mood only lightening when he sees the boy that was wiping down tables. He waits patiently, watching as the boy runs up to him and holds out a wad of cash. "Bev said to give this to you," he says.

"What, is my money not good enough?" Steve asks, raising an eyebrow at the cash before looking up and meeting brown eyes.

"No, no," the boy says, "Bev only gives change to people she likes. She said you're welcome to come by and kick Phillip's ass whenever you want."

Steve blinks, studying the boy for any signs of lies. When he doesn't find one, he takes the cash and nods. "Good to know," he says.

"Yeah. Right. Um, I'm going back inside now."

"Hold on," Steve says, grinning when the boy listens and stands still. He takes a step closer, holds out his hand, and says, "My name's Steve. I'm new around here, if you couldn't tell."

The boy stares at his hand for a few seconds before taking it, the rings on his fingers pressing against Steve's skin. "Eddie. I could tell," he says, his shoulders relaxing some. "Where you from?"

"Gotham."

"Holy shit, no wonder you looked so ready for a fight," Eddie says, staring at Steve like he's incomprehensible. Steve tries not to preen under his gaze. "Hawkins must be dead compared to Gotham."

"Yeah," Steve agrees, glancing down at his and Eddie's hands still clasped together despite the handshake being over. "But I think I'll have some fun anyway."

#steddie #steddie fic #harlequin prince #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve deserves good parents actually #bruce wayne #dc comics crossover #harley quinn #poison ivy #this bitch has been sitting in my drafts for so long guys hfjkds #so excited to finally release it into the wild

391 notes · View notes

hornedqueenofhell · 6 months

Text

Mind if I Drop In? Pt 2

Pt 1

Steve’s eyes flicker to his lips and with a sharp inhale the crown prince yanks him in, their lips meeting sharply as they both moan. Eddie releases his grip on Steve’s cloak, instead sliding it up to wind back in those thick brunette locks and yank the younger man's head to a better angle for Eddie to devour his sweet mouth.

Steve’s dagger joins Eddie’s at their feet. The prince’s fingers gripping his hip instead, pulling him in tightly and pressing them together lips to hips. Eddie groans and shifts his weight, curling one leg up Steve’s calf until he can hook his thigh over Steve’s hip.

Eddie honestly feels bad about this, the prince is a damn good kisser. But like he said, he’s not going to jail. He tightens his grip around Steve, making sure he won’t kill Steve when he spins them around and cracks Steve’s skull into the wall. Normally he’d rely on Command or Blindness spells rather than physical violence but Steve is keeping his mouth a little too occupied for verbal spell components. Do both of those spells only require single word activations, shut up.

Both of them were more distracted than they thought, Steve’s hand dragging up his thigh to pull them in closer together while Eddie whined and ground their hips together, meaning that neither of them heard as the guards approached.

Eddie’s face was tilted away from them, hair serving as a veil for them both; while Steve’s mouth was glued to Eddie’s throat, biting and sucking marks that left Eddie gasping into the night.

The guard clears his throat uncomfortably, “Ahem, sorry to interrupt sir but you and your wife,” they all can hear the quiet cringe at the assumption, “need to take this out of the public eye.” Both Steve and Eddie hide their faces in what the guards assume is embarrassment over getting caught during an intimate moment. Nevertheless the guard presses on after coughing uncomfortably, “It’s probably safer for you to head inside anyway, there was a thief in the palace earlier and we believe that he could be a danger to civilians.”

Eddie nods his head with a high pitched ‘mm-hm’ and he and Steve carefully share a look before deciding to ditch the daggers and just run out of the alley gripping onto each other’s sleeves.

They circle around until Eddie leads them to the barn where Wayne lets his guests’ horses stay. Eddie helps Steve climb up the seemingly haphazard stack of crates until they can lift themselves through the hayloft window. Eddie has a little hideaway spot behind the hay bales he uses when he needs to lay low for a night. Eddie isn’t even considering the implications of bringing Steve here until they’re sitting face to face once Eddie has lit his lantern.

“So, a thief in the palace huh?” It’s cramped back here, tighter than the alley. Eddie can see beauty marks littering Steve’s neck now, as well as a darkening bruise in the shape of Eddie’s fingers along his jaw.

Eddie rubs at the back of his neck self-consciously, “I really am a bard I swear, I just took the job to support my uncle.” He pulls his knees up and rests his chin on them, “What about you, what’s a prince doing in a random tavern in the worst disguise ever?”

Steve flushes this time and blows his hair out of his face, “I like seeing the town, and the tavern owner there is really nice to me. I know he knows who I am but he just lets me drink in the corner and get away from everything for a bit.”

Eddie hides his smile behind his knees, that’s Wayne for you taking in strays whether they’re dirty street urchins or the crown prince of the kingdom. “If you just wanted a drink then what was with the whole ‘not going back’ thing, why’d you run with me?”

“I was going to run away.” Steve admitted quietly, “I hate being prince.”

“Pull the other one,” Eddie snorts before catching the heartbroken look on Steve’s face. “Okay, I’ll bite. Why do you hate being a prince?”

“I’ve never been anything but a disappointment to my family. They decided to marry me off to someone who’d ‘make a man’ out of me. They sold me, like I was a piece of furniture. I have no right to the crown anymore.” Eddie watches as Steve picks up stray pieces of hay to pick apart, he refuses to meet Eddie’s gaze.

“Well, that makes this a little ironic then.” Eddie removes his bag from his back, and at Steve’s curious look pulls out the stolen crown. Steve barks out a wet laugh that sends Eddie into a fit of giggles as well.

“What are you going to do with it?” He asks as Eddie fiddles with his prize.

“Well the guy who hired me wants it. Not sure why, let’s just say he’s not fond of your parents' kingdom.”

“Steve snorts, “Well, he can definitely have it.”

“What will you do now?” Eddie asks, tucking the crown away again. It’s getting late and all of the excitement has left him sleepy. Steve chuckles as Eddie yawns before involuntarily copying him, he rubs at his eyes tiredly.

“I don’t know. I left my bag in the tavern when we ran. It’s probably not safe for me to go back and get it, which means I’ve lost my clothes, my supplies, my sword. I’m screwed.” The brunette buries his face in his hands miserably.

“I bet Wayne has your bag safely tucked behind the bar, we’ll get it in the morning.” Eddie chews on his hair nervously, “You could come with me? Meet my group.”

“And do what?”

“Whatever we want, we take whatever jobs we like and I make a fair amount of coin performing. You could come see the world with us, with me.” Eddie blushes under the considering look Steve is giving him.

“And what do you want in exchange? This seems like quite the generous offer.” Steve is leaning in closer, his voice dropping lower. Eddie licks his lips and tries not to groan as Steve’s gaze drops to watch.

“Who says I’m not getting anything out of it?” He murmurs tilting his head to dip in closer. Steve meets him, their eyes slipping closed as they press their lips together. This kiss is gentle, full of hope and promise. There’s a moment when the kiss ends, their eyes meet and it feels like the world holds its breath.

“Ask me again tomorrow?” Steve whispers, leaning back in as his free hand comes up to caress Eddie’s cheek.

“Whatever you say, my prince.” He murmurs, nipping at Steve’s lip again making him groan.

“Just Steve, please just Steve.” They’re panting in each other’s mouths again. Just waiting to see who will break first.

“Steve, Steve. Kiss me.” Eddie yanks Steve down into his lap, pulling on his hair again as they pick up where they left off in the alley.

Somewhere in the distance Dustin is getting scolded by his magic teacher for mistranslating the part of the Teleportation scroll that sends you to where you want. Instead of sending it to where the caster wants safely, it sends you to where the writer of the spell thinks is safe.

#stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steve x eddie #dustin henderson #bard!eddie munson #prince!steve harrington #bard eddie munson #prince steve harrington #teleportation scroll gone wrong #steddiefic chronicles

106 notes · View notes

rindecisions · 27 days

Text

Boop

Written for the @steddiemicrofic April Prompt

Prompt | Fool WC | 454

Rating | Gen CW | None Tags | Royalty AU, Prince Steve, Jester(fool) Eddie, First meeting, Meet-cute, Boop

༒༒༒༒༒༒༒༒༒༒༒༒༒༒༒༒༒༒༒༒༒༒༒༒

Prince Steve was notoriously hard to impress. He had everything and was bored of it all. Even the women that threw themself at his feet and the men that vied to befriend him.

Over the years, he grew more apathetic, forlorn, and distant. Starting on his 20th birthday, the king ordered the best entertainers in the land to attempt to entertain the prince. If they could get so much as a smile, they'd be rewarded handsomely.

None succeeded. Not the grandest story tellers, exotic dancers, praised musicians, or celebrated fools. The king became desperate enough that on the Prince's 25th birthday, he extended the offer to anyone and everyone.

With the large line-up, the Prince was all but falling asleep when a man about his own age walked into the court. The man was dressed about as well as a peasant could manage. At least he'd seemed to have bathed and brushed his hair.

"Name yourself!" Called the king's advisor.

"You can call me 'The Freak'," the man stated with a chuckle as he bowed deeply. "Everyone else does.”

Prince Steve quirked his brow, but remained uninterested.

"Eddie also works," he continued, beaming brightly at the indifferent prince. Out of his pocket, he pulled three wooden balls and began juggling.

Steve rolled his eyes and sighed.

Eddie laughed. "That not good enough for you?" he laughed and tossed the balls higher in the air. "How about that?" When he got nothing, Eddie simply smiled and tossed them even higher, but straight into the air over him. "Yeah, me neither," he shrugged, letting the balls land on his head one after another, giving no reaction.

The strange routine made Steve furrow his brow and sit upright, already far more of a reaction than the others had garnered.

"Y'see, I think everyone tries too hard to impress you with grandeur." Eddie held his arms out and spun on his heels. "Sometimes," he crooned and hopped up on the long table that held the noble's lavish meal, much to the horror of the nobles themself. He paid no mind to their gasps and jeers as he walked gracefully between the plates and goblets.

Steve leaned forward on his throne. He'd never seen someone willing to get up in the huffy noble's space like that, and that alone almost made him crack a grin. The frown was gone from his face and a light gleamed in his eyes.

"We forget that it's the simplest of things that can bring the most joy," Eddie explained with a shining smile as he knelt on the table in front of the prince, reaching forward to tap him on the nose with a small "Boop.”

Steve smiled and huffed a gentle laugh.

#steddie microfic #Steddie Microfic April #Boop #Prince Steve Harrington #Jester Eddie Munson #Peasant Eddie Munson #Steddie #Pre-relationship #Pre-Steddie #Fanfiction #Fanfic

203 notes · View notes

obligatedart · 9 months

Text

Prince Steve is lost in the deep dark forest.

Decided to draw Steve inspired by Ayes and Kleo’s fic However Wild - and heavily inspired by the art of John Bauer.

The fic is a fairytale, so I wanted to infuse this piece with some Swedish fairytale vibe, as a little twist is my own :)

#stranger things #joe keery #steve harrington #steddie #however wild #swedish folklore #folklore #john bauer #tuvstarr #pond #prince steve harrington #fae art #fae #dark fairytale #fic ref #fic rec

491 notes · View notes

blushweddinggowns · 5 months

Text

Steddie Drunk Dialing Fluff

Steve Harrington-Munson was probably one of the happiest men to be alive in the modern era. He had the perfect life, against all odds. Because apparently having your late teens and early twenties ruined by demons equated to a fantastic adulthood.

He had it all. A loving family, the best friend/surrogate sister he could ever ask for, and he was married to the love of his life. And okay, yes. That had included some extremely embarrassing revelations and internal meltdowns and... a pretty brutal disownment. But he had figured it all out in the end. And here he was, a decade later with a ring on his finger and a nice hyphenated name. Not to mention how he was basically a trophy husband.

Eddie hadn't wasted a moment of the last decade. A symptom of almost dying it would seem. He went for the GED, gathered the band back up, moved across the country to chase his dreams and play in every shitty dive bar he could until they were discovered. All while dragging Steve along for the ride.

As much as Steve had believed in him, neither of them had been prepared for his music career actually taking off. Especially not to the level it did. It was undeniable that his husband was an A-Lister, despite how universally hated he was by half the country. You don't get many out and proud metal front man who loved parading around his high school sweetheart at every social event he could. But Europe loved him, as did the entirety of gay, rebellious youths world wide.

It was so stupid. There Eddie was, painted as an insane freak who was fake-married. With tabloids running story after story about his secret children, his drug addiction, a wife from another country, anything that they could think of. All while Eddie spent every free moment at Steve's side, always opting for a night in with his baby when given the choice. And when he wasn't doing that, he was busy playing surrogate fun uncle to the kids, who were definitly not kids anymore. But that didn't stop them from all getting together for Dungeons and Dragons once a month, hundreds and hundreds of campaign hours on everyone's belts. And that was his life. Spending time with his family, forcing them on hikes and runs, volunteering, working occasionally to help Robin with her translating work, all while coming home to the sweetest thing that ever existed.

God, did Steve love that man. Reminiscing about the love of his life while he was on tour was not helping his fretful sleep. He just... really had given him everything. He loved him so much in fact that he was only slightly pissed when he was woken up at three a.m. from the phone ringing off the hook.

Steve reached for it blindly, still half-asleep when he mumbled, "Mm-Eds?"

"Steeeeeeeeeevie," Eddie's voice slurred back at him, "Baby booooy. How's my baby boy? I miss my baby boy."

Steve smiled despite himself, yawning into the phone. Eddie was lucky he was so cute, considering how the love of his life who could not remember what time zones were, "He misses you too. And he's a little tired right now babe. What's up?"

"Day drunk," Eddie sighed, "Guys, morning show, mimosas, hotel room to sleep it off. Missing you."

"You won't be missing me for long," Steve softly laughed. Though... hearing his voice was quite the reminder of how cold the bed suddenly felt, "Just... one more week. That's not too long right?"

"Too long!" Eddie groaned, dramatic, "I miss you now. Why can't I see you now? Wait-Can I see you now? Cause planes and trains and-"

"And no," Steve interrupted with a chuckle, "You'd only get me for a few hours before you'd have to leave again."

"Worth it," Eddie mumbled out, his voice a little muffled as he tumbled around in his hotel bed, "Want my baby."

The pathetic tilt to his voice was enough to make Steve's heart clench. God he was too precious. Suddenly a red-eye in the middle of the night for a two hour make-out session didn't sound like such a bad idea. But he could be the strong one for tonight, "You have me sweetheart. Want me to stay on until you fall asleep."

"Yes please," Eddie sighed, "Love your voice. It's so... nice. Like... audible perfume. Like poetry or something."

"Oh baby you are wasted," Steve said as he laid back down, nestling the phone to his ear, "Please tell me you drank some water before laying down?"

"... maybe?"

"Babe."

"I knoooow. Keep nagging me though. I missed that too."

"Is my bitching your bed time story?"

He could hear Eddie nodding, rusting against the fabric, "And it's the best. Keep going?"

Steve rolled his eyes, but he did what he was asked. Saying every silly little grievance he could think of. He whined about how cold it was in bed without him, how Eddie had promised to take out the trash before he left and forgot. Again. How he hated how quiet it was without him, how much he missed hearing his voice trailing in and out of every room.

And Eddie listened, mumbling out a few sleepy m'sorrys and I love yous along the way. Until all Steve could hear was the slow, steady sound of his breathing. But he didn't hang up. Not when that was one of his favorite sounds in the world. And the perfect thing to fall asleep to.

Steve smiled to himself as he closed his eyes, a little amazed that Eddie could still make him feel so loved, from hundreds of miles away.

But one thing was for sure. He still had to be the happiest man on earth.

356 notes · View notes