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aceing-on-the-cake · 24 days

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Robin as the polyglot she is definitely has picked up at least some sign language. And because he and Steve are thick as thieves she's taught Steve some signs, one of them being the sign for "I love you".

This would've just been a way for the two to communicate even more without saying a single word together if not for Eddie.

Eddie, who unfortunately mixed up the hand sign people do for rock and roll with the actual hand sign for "I love you". After all, it's really only the difference of a single thumb.

What this means though is that everytime Eddie says goodbye to Steve he uses what he believes to be the sign for rock and roll. And every single time, Steve blushes bright red. He's almost 96% positive that Eddie isn't actually telling him he loves him, but he doesn't know that for sure and he's never really had another guy tell him he loves him before. Especially not every time he sees him.

Eddie on the other hand has no idea of the mistake he's making. All he knows is that Steve blushes a lot around him, and he comes to incorrect conclusion that Steve the Hair Harrington, might have a crush on him, and Eddie King-of-the-freaks gay-in-small-town-America Munson, runs with it.

Soon enough he's absolutely shamelessly flirting with Steve. Just being absolutely blatant about it, to the extent that Steve's 96% starts turning into 86, 65, 52, then eventually he's more sure that Eddie is actually telling him he loves him than he is that he's not.

In classic Steve fashion he figures he might as well shoot his shot so the next time Eddie goes to leave his house after a night of smoking and playfully sniping about each other's musical opinions Eddie makes his customary rock and roll goodbye sign and Steve just pulls him down and crashes his mouth to his.

"I love you too," he gets out between pants when he finally pulls away from Eddie.

Eddie, not really actually expecting Steve to reciprocate, at least not before he'd finished his 87 step plan to woo him, can only open his mouth several times trying to process the fact that Steve kissed him before what Steve said to him catches up to his brain.

".....what?" he finally says.

---------

Let me know if you guys want me to finish this! It honestly was just a simple thought brought about from the fact that I didn't realize every time I'd thought I'd been making the rock and roll sign I'd actually been telling random people I loved them.

#steddie #steve x eddie #steve hc #eddie hc #steddie ficlet #steddie wip

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fragilecapric0rnn · 1 year

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having steve brain rot today (what's new) and i can't stop thinking about steve having an older sister. that's why he bonded with robin at scoops, robin who playfully bullied him and called him dingus. he grew up with his sister dressing him up like a girl and calling him a butthead. robin, who reminded him of his older sister who lives out in chicago now and he doesn't see much of these days, besides holidays. one of the big reasons he can bond so easily with robin, other than the shared trauma and the fact that they're soulmates, is because he's always loved having a sister. so of course he'd want another one.

#thinking about siblings today #and the fact that we know nothing about steve's family other than the fact that he called his dad an asshole when he was 16 #adding this to the steve harrington headcanon bank #steve harrington #stobin #steve & robin #steve hc #stranger things #steve&jj

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astxroiid · 2 years

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stranger things boys — headcanons

✩ steve and eddie edition ✩

Author’s Note: a fun little idea I had - you will be seeing me using these in future fics <3

navigation

steve —

✩ he smells like oak and sunscreen, mint, a little bit of mowed grass, and just a hint of fruits.

✩ he’s summertime and swimming, tanning on pool floats, day trips to exclusive swimming holes that are definitely not entirely legal to go to. trampolines and swing-sets, burning hot days, colas in the cooler, cherries and watermelon.

✩ steve calls you love, and darling, baby/babe, mine, and occasionally honey. he keeps it classic but personal. that’s what being with him feels like.

✩ he’s a sucker for surprises and popping up with flowers and tickets for things you like and boxes with things you stop and stare at in store windows. steve loves pulling chocolates out from behind his back and watching your eyes light up.

✩ if there where one song in any decade to fully encapsulate steve, it would be budapest by george ezra. he’d do anything for you. and the light flow of the song matches the summer breeze on a hot day. all the love he feels written out line by line.

✩ a movie that matches steve would be dazed and confused. summertime, high school, long nights, and having fun with friends. it’s steve’s aesthetic and he shamelessly wears it like a crown.

✩ steve likes to grab your hand and spin you around the room while listening to music play from the radio. he likes dancing his hands on your shoulders, rubbing up and down your arms. he likes grabbing your chin and pulling you up to kiss him.

✩ steve is cherry popsicles and chocolate covered strawberries. coneys on the beach. cookouts by his pool. he’s the soft, natural lighting of the dawn coming through the curtains when you’ve stayed up all night talking. he’s loving and gentle and rays of sun on your face.

eddie —

✩ if steve is cherries and watermelon and summer; eddie is pumpkin pie and cinnamon and fall. He’s going to scenic overlooks to admire the orange and red and brown leaves. eddie is night drives in the cold, heaters on full blast along with rock music at a comfortable level to listen to as well as talk over.

✩ eddie smells like lavender and the sea, salt and weed. a hint of nutmeg and spices. warm like cranberry and cold like an iced vanilla coffe.

✩ eddie calls you hot stuff. he likes funny but unique and loving pet names; like sweet cheeks and my queen, angel, toots, and just occasionally - really infrequently - sugar tits. playful and fun but so specific to him. the only more common pet name he loves to use is sweetheart. that’s one of his favorites.

✩ his favorite way to spend time with you is cuddled up inside, watching movies on the vhs or taking you to the drive in. he likes when you wrap around him while he’s learning a new song on his guitar. while he doesn’t have as much money to spend on you like steve, he loves valuable time with you and you alone. quiet, and calm. quality and intimate.

✩ if there where one song in any decade to fully encapsulate eddie, it would be sweater weather by the neighbourhood. he’s only a man who is wholly in love with you. this song knows exactly what it’s like to be in love and holding hands while crunching through the fallen leaves while the chilled wind turns your nose red.

✩ a movie that matches eddie would be the fantastic mr. fox. it’s autumn and it’s doing anything to give the people you love a better life. eddie relates to mr. fox on a personal level and he doesn’t care how childish you think it is but he loves the movie and would kick off every fall by watching that first.

✩ eddie loves jamming out and jumping around his trailer with you while heavy metal blasts from his speakers. he likes grabbing you by the waist and pulling you in for a kiss. he likes to ruffle your hair after telling you how much he loves you.

✩ eddie is s’mores and home cooked meals, the burnt orange of a sunset, the crackling of thunder in the distance. the lingering taste of weed on your breath. he’s rain pouring down your face, drenching your clothes. he’s sweets on halloween, and he’s thoughtful and reassuring like the last striking lines of color in the sky - the sun promising to come back once the night is over.

special note to @upsidedownwithsteve who partially kicked off an idea i’d had brewing in my mind with her amazing writing! as well as @spidey-multi for proof-reading and helping with ideas ! <3

#stranger things x reader #stranger things fic #stranger things headcanons #stranger things hc #steve hc #steve headcanon #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington headcanon #steve harrington hc #eddie #eddie munson #eddie hc #eddie headcanons #eddie munson hc #eddie munson headcanons #stevey #eds

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bitchysunflower · 9 months

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just had this steve art idea where the picture is steve standing in front of a portal inside the upside down own his own, his body is kind of leaning forward, he is scattered with wounds on his body, blood everywhere, he has one hand holding his nailed bat. his eyes are locked on something off the picture (demodogs, demogorgon, demobat whatever). the title is “the last line of defense”

i’m a bitch for protective/self-sacrificing steve

the “plot” behind this idea is like towards the end of the battle, everyone is bruised and depleted of energy (even El and her powers). they rush out through the portal but as the upside down is collapsing on itself, a lot of the monsters are going mayhem and also trying to scape (or kill whoever they can the main idea is that the monsters are going towards the portal). steve seeing what is happening thinks he cannot let these monsters through. he can’t let them get close to his family. so he makes sure he is the last to leave (but then doesn’t actually leave). he stays backs to delay the horde of monsters as much as he can.

i also thought about this little scene where steve looks back at his family, who are all screaming at him to come through and he just gives them a little smile - a knowing, melancholic smile because he knows he’s not making out alive.

#steve harrington #stranger things #steve hc #steve harrington stranger things #angsty mood today woohoo #steve angst

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steddielations · 5 months

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Eddie talks about his mom’s Tennessee side of the family like, “yeah my peepaw could play the banjo and my great grand pappy was real good with a fiddle” and Steve’s like “your Who and What”

Eddie: I have to take you to visit, you’re gonna love meemaw’s fried chicken gizzards

Steve: no I don’t think I will

Also I can't decide if southern grandmas would fawn over Steve and pamper him, or if they’d see his Arms and immediately put him to work in the kitchen kneading dough and rolling pie crusts, while he soaks up the best small town gossip. Eddie’s supposed to be helping but he only sits on the counter Watching until he gets swatted back to work with a dish towel

#something something #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie headcanons #eddie munson headcanons #i don't hc that eddie's actually close to his family besides wayne but #these were tweets first can you tell #mp

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appocalipse · 1 month

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that guy ⊹ steve harrington

summary: After he's been to yet another failed date with yet another random pretty girl, Steve Harrington, your best friend, stops by at the diner your family owns for a late-night chat, same as he'd done a thousand times before. Steve is totally unaware of how much he's hurting you with his endless parade of dates, because after all — the two of you are only friends and nothing more, right? It's not like you have any secret feelings for him… | 2.6k words

── ࣪˖ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

The moment Steve steps through the glass doors of the diner, you wonder, for about the millionth time that month alone, what is it that you've done so wrong to deserve this kind of punishment.

It's Friday night, and on Friday nights, Steve Harrington goes on dates. It's just like clockwork, really: he meets a pretty girl, thinks she's the one, takes her out on a date, realizes quickly enough that she isn't quite what he was looking for, then comes here after having dropped her back home to sulk with you, in the diner that your family runs, still clad in the outfit he'd chosen especially for his failed date.

To be honest, he never looks sad, per se — more like disappointed. Frustrated, maybe.

You watch as he weaves around tables occupied by laughing friends, past booths filled with couples sharing desserts, then slides into a seat in front of you at the bar. Steve sits down with an exhausted sigh, ruffling up his hair before shooting you a tired smile.

"Hi."

You don't look up from where you're polishing the counter. "Bad date again?"

"Not even close. She talked about horses non-stop."

A quiet laugh slips past your lips despite yourself, and finally, you tear your gaze off the dark wooden surface of the counter to look up at him; he's got this pleased little smile on his face, the corners of his eyes crinkled ever so slightly in the way they always do whenever he succeeds at making you laugh, even if just a little.

How are you supposed to keep acting like nothing's wrong when he looks at you like that?

You clear your throat awkwardly and make yourself busy stacking clean glasses next to the coffee machine.

"So...not the one, I take it?"

Steve leans forward against the counter and props his head up with his hand, sighing deeply.

"I'm starting to think she won't ever show up," he says quietly, running his other hand through his hair. You chance another glance at him and note how genuinely worried he looks. It breaks your heart almost as much as it annoys you. "What is it that's wrong with me, huh? I just don't get it."

"Nothing is wrong with you."

"You don't need to be nice to me. We've been friends since forever, remember?"

The word 'friends' makes you wince a little bit inside, but you hide the reaction behind a neutral frown. "Do you think there's something wrong with me? Because I haven't found the one yet either, you know."

Steve's expression softens as he looks at you, and once again you feel that horrible twinge in your stomach that you wish would just stop already.

"It's different. I mean—you're not actively trying to find someone." He reaches out to pull one of the half-melted mints out from the glass bowl on the counter and pops it into his mouth with a shrug. "I go out looking for her and she just doesn't come. If she even exists, that is."

"She does."

"Well, thanks for the vote of confidence, but I wouldn't hold my breath. God, why am I such an idiot, y'know?" Steve slumps over the counter with a groan, burying his face into his crossed arms. "My love life is a trainwreck."

"At least you have one."

He glances up at you curiously and lifts an eyebrow. "What does that mean?"

"Nothing. Forget it. Do you want some pie?"

You're not about to tell him what you've only admitted to yourself mere months ago — that you're actually hopelessly, madly, stupidly in love with him, and that you have been ever since the two of you were just dumb kids racing around your parents' diner.

What makes it even worse is that you had no idea your feelings went that deep until Steve started going on these dates of his again. Before then, everything was normal — you met up every weekend and binged on candy, watched bad movies on your couch, drove around town together blasting The Clash on his BMW's speakers...it was good.

Until it wasn't.

"Wait, c'mon, you can't just leave me hanging like that," Steve presses. He shifts a little on his stool to better face you, then gestures at you with his hands. "You've clearly got something you wanna say, so, like—hit me. Lay it on me."

"Nothing. I'm just saying...at least you're trying, you know," you say carefully, measuring each word before speaking them. "And at least you're the one doing the rejecting. Could be worse."

Steve's eyebrows rise high up on his forehead and he looks at you incredulously. "Whoa, wait—are you trying to tell me you've been rejected?"

You busy yourself by filling two tall glasses with soda, then slide one to his side of the counter and keep the other for yourself. "Uh...kind of, yeah. But it's fine."

"But who the hell would even do that?" he blurts out. There's anger in his voice all of a sudden, a defensive fire in his eyes that makes you feel as if someone has punched you in the gut. "To you? You're like, the nicest person on the planet, and super pretty to boot. That's just—that's crazy!"

Your heart gives a violent little jump in your chest. He thinks you're pretty. Steve Harrington thinks you're pretty.

Pretty as a friend, you correct yourself immediately, and sigh as you sip your drink. Of course, it's nothing more than that — just meaningless words spoken in a moment of unthinking kindness.

"Seriously, who?" he presses on. "Give me a name. I'll fight him."

"You mean like you fought Jonathan Byers?" you smile behind your glass, looking at him from over its rim.

Steve looks embarrassed at the memory and drops his gaze for a second or two before meeting your eyes again with a playful little smile of his own. "Different situation, okay, but that's not the point. So? Who's the guy?"

"You...don't know him," you hedge.

"It's Hawkins. I know the stray cats here by name."

"Fine, well, even if you did know him, it doesn't matter. He didn't reject me, exactly...not really."

Steve frowns a little. "Okay, you're gonna have to start making sense now. This is hurting my head."

The funny thing is, he actually looks confused, as if he can't possibly fathom the idea of someone rejecting you. It's sweet, really — way too sweet for your liking, especially when you know fully well he doesn't see you in the way you'd want him to.

You lower your gaze to avoid his and instead focus on drawing random shapes on the counter with your index finger, where tiny droplets of condensation from your glass have pooled up on the dark wood. "I mean, I never really told him how I felt. Not directly. It just…never happened."

"Oh. Well, then how do you even know if he feels the same way?" he asks you, looking rather doubtful.

You steal another glance at him and almost regret it instantly. His eyes are trained on your face, patient and attentive like you're the only thing worth watching in the world. It makes you feel horribly small and selfish and guilty, because after all, what right do you have to want him when he so clearly wants someone else?

You feel like you could cry. You might, if you don't distract yourself with something fast enough.

"I just know. Do you want some pie? I'll go get you some pie."

Without waiting for a response, you rush off to the kitchen even though there's plenty of pies sitting on the display counter at the bar, and you make a beeline straight for the back exit.

The alley behind the diner is blissfully empty as usual, just a lonely dumpster and a handful of sad-looking shrubs and weeds peeking out from under the concrete.

No, you aren't going to cry.

This is stupid.

You press your back against the rough brick wall of the diner and breathe in deep the warm night air, then exhale slowly as you count to ten in your head.

When the door opens behind you and the diner's familiar chatter and clatter of cutlery spill into the alley, you wince, mentally cursing yourself for being so goddamn weak. You should have known better.

You don't have to look up to know that it's him.

"Are you hiding from me?" Steve's voice comes, quiet and curious and maybe just a little bit hurt, even.

"I got...suddenly nauseous," you explain weakly, still refusing to look up and meet his eyes.

There's a long stretch of silence, and you feel Steve move closer to you until he's leaning against the wall by your side. You finally look up and find him smiling, this gentle, amused little thing that makes your traitorous heart skip a beat.

"You look just fine to me."

You stare up at the sky, head against the wall. "I thought I was gonna throw up."

He's still watching you, you can tell; you're keenly aware of his eyes on you, so much so that your skin prickles at the attention. "No, you didn't."

"No, I didn't," you admit with a sigh, and turn your head to finally look at him. He's got this little half-smile on his lips, the very same one you fell for years ago, and you curse yourself silently for never learning how to let him go. Really let him go.

"Hey. Listen. You don't have to tell me, okay?" Steve says gently, pushing himself off the wall to step closer to you. He brings his hand up to your face and tucks a loose lock of hair behind your ear, letting his fingertips linger on the edge of your jaw for the briefest of moments, just long enough for you to wonder whether he knows what he's doing to you.

You don't dare to move. You're afraid of breaking whatever spell has seemingly come over him.

"I should've never asked. That was selfish."

"Forget it," you say.

He's standing close now, close enough that you have to tilt your chin up to be able to look up at him properly. There's a strange kind of tension in his eyes, something dark and unsure and tentative, and his gaze darts down to your lips just the slightest bit.

You're fairly sure you're just seeing what you want to see, your foolish heart playing tricks on you. But you panic nonetheless, feeling a sudden, irrational fear that if he moves any closer, he'll realize the truth — that you're a liar and a coward, that you've been harboring these feelings of yours for him for years.

"I should—I should go. Back inside," you mutter, pointing vaguely at the door with your thumb. "In there."

"Sure, yeah. Okay. In there," he echoes, not making a single move to leave. "Not out here."

"Yup. Exactly. In there."

"So you said."

"Yep."

The wall of the diner is digging into your spine uncomfortably, and your mouth is dry, and your knees feel weak, and your stomach is doing somersaults, and the longer he stares at you with those eyes of his the more you feel like you're burning from the inside out and—

He's not moving. All he does is look at you, really look at you, as if it's the first time he's really looked, as if he's seeing something that wasn't there before.

"Okay, so—"

You try to push past him towards the door, but Steve grabs your arm, making you stop dead in your tracks. He lets go as soon as you look up at him, lifting his hand in front of him in an apologetic gesture.

"Sorry. I'm sorry," he says. He swallows hard and rubs his palm on the front of his jeans, a nervous little habit you think he's always had. He runs his hand through his hair, mussing up the carefully gelled strands, and it's probably the first time you've ever seen him look so flustered.

He laughs nervously and gestures at the ground with his hands as he speaks. "Look, this is just—this is just crazy, okay, but I think I, uh, maybe sort of realized something."

You blink at him, not quite certain you're hearing him correctly.

"Realized what?" you ask, the words barely more than a whisper.

Steve clears his throat and nods at you, seemingly pleased that you've finally spoken. "Yeah, well, this is stupid, but you know how you're always telling me to listen to my gut?"

"You're not making a whole lot of sense right now, Steve."

"Just bear with me for a sec, okay? This is like, totally new to me." He holds his palms up, and you notice his hands are shaking a little. "I just need a minute, alright?"

He breathes in deep and exhales slowly, then shoots you an apologetic look.

"Sorry, this is just...really weird," he confesses. "Weirdly real."

"You're freaking me out," you tell him, but Steve only smiles at you.

"Maybe I should just show you. Because, I mean, what if I'm wrong? That'd be terrible, obviously."

"Steve."

"Yeah, I know, but hear me out, okay?" he says quickly, and takes another step closer. You stand your ground this time, if only because you don't trust yourself to actually move without your legs giving out. "So, look. Here's the thing. You're, like—you're one of the most important people in my life. You've been there for me when nobody else was, and I...you mean a lot to me."

"Steve—"

"Shut up, you're ruining the moment."

He takes another step forward until he's crowding you against the wall, hand coming to rest next to your head on the brick. He's close, so close that you can smell the scent of his cologne and shampoo and laundry detergent, and if you were to lean in even the slightest bit, your faces would bump.

Steve is a little out of breath, his lips parted ever so slightly. And he's still looking at you with that strange, searching expression of his.

"Is this okay?" he whispers.

"I don't—what?"

Your voice catches in your throat. There's no room for doubt in his eyes now, not even the tiniest, slightest sliver of uncertainty left.

"This," Steve murmurs.

He tilts his head to the side a little and leans in until you're sure your noses are touching, and you feel your eyes slip closed in anticipation.

"Is this okay?" he repeats in a whisper. "Please tell me I'm not crazy."

"I think I am."

His lips brush yours. It feels like an accident, doesn't last long enough to be anything but a dream. You can still taste the faint, sweet trace of sugar and mint on your tongue when he pulls away, though.

"Just to be clear," Steve whispers, his fingers brushing lightly over the skin of your neck, tracing invisible lines that make you shiver, "am I the guy from earlier? The one you like?"

You don't have it in you to deny it anymore.

"Yes. It's you."

A wide grin breaks out across his face, and suddenly he's everywhere; he cups your face in his hands, pressing eager, fervent kisses along the line of your jaw, trailing hot and open-mouthed down the side of your neck.

You giggle helplessly, grabbing Steve by his collar to pull him away from you and up to your eye level. He's breathing just as heavily as you are, his hair messy and his eyes bright.

"How do you do this to me, huh?" he pants, kissing your forehead, the tip of your nose, the corner of your mouth. "You just—you just completely knock me out."

A pleasant little thrill rushes up your spine at that.

"Oh yeah?"

"Completely."

You kiss him this time.

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kennahjune · 8 months

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Guys—

Eddie’s not weak, nor is he a twig.

Exhibit 1: he was able to YANK both Dustin and Mike out of their seats as if they were fucking hand bags.

Exhibit 2: he’s able to climb up a rope with NO support which uses SO MUCH core strength like bro I could never—

Exhibit 3: he’s in a band, he’s gonna do some heavy lifting and shit

Exhibit 4: when he tried to provoke Jason in that cafeteria scene, Jason fully just backs down

Exhibit 5: MANZ LITERALLY THREW STEVE AGAINST THE WALL

So allow me to present: Steve Harrington who knows full well that Eddie is able to completely and utterly manhandle him and absolutely living and thriving for it.

Thank you for your attention.

#stranger things #steve harrington #dustin henderson #mike wheeler #eddie munson #steddie #steddie hcs #steve x eddie #eddie x steve #strong eddie muson 💪

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fragilecapric0rnn · 2 years

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I’m really trying to get in the mindset of a Heartbroken 32 year old Steve in 1998 (for reasons that may have been fleshed out in a long post a few days ago) and I have come to some conclusions. The most important conclusion is that 1998 Steve is only listening to these two records on repeat to nurse his broken heart and no one can convince me otherwise.

#shut up sen #steve hc #the when harry met sally au of my dreams #steve harrington #edit: the eddie version is even better and if anyone yells at me abt it being ooc pls consider this; dont?

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sugarsblurbs · 1 year

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Sports with Steve; Reader is not into sports.

Steve loves sports he gets way into it. He is a die hard fan. Even though you have no idea what is going on you still want to support your man, he looks so cute with his jersey of his favorite player and black streaks under his eyes. You seat next to him during the game even though it is so boring to you, you stick it out because he would do the same for you. Steve thinks it’s cute that every time he cheers you do and that when he gets mad about the refs you ask him why or when you ask what is going on. Steve yells at the TV and you tell him“Babe they can’t hear you” “ I know but it was a stupid call” When the game is ending the teams are neck at neck it is the last 2 minutes Steve has your hand in his and is rubbing it and the other rubbing your shoulder his team makes the last point and he goes crazy. He then calls you his good luck charm. At the end of the day you are scrubbing his cheeks to get the black marks off, his hair is crazy, he is still buzzing with excitement about the win he tells you about as if you weren’t next to him the whole time, he looks like a puppy so you aren’t going to stop him. When you lay down he whispers “good night my lucky charm”

Part 1; Reader is into sports

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shares-a-vest · 24 days

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Update: 29/04/24 Now turned into a 1.9k fic here

Eddie begins making a Hellfire t-shirt and declares it is for Steve.

The Corroded Coffin boys oscillate between teasing and confused horror. Dustin is annoyed that it is Eddie who has managed to convince Steve to finally join a campaign, while Lucas is elated and beyond excited.

Mike and Will of course, do everything in their power to stop such a nightmare, including some ill-conceived scheming that is thwarted at every turn by Lucas.

But they needn't worry.

Because Eddie is just simply making Steve a Hellfire t-shirt to sleep in. It's a size too big. He paid extra for the softest cotton and it has short sleeves and a loose scoop neck so it doesn't scratch Steve's scar.

All so Steve can get a cozy night's sleep.

#three posts in a day LOOK AT ME GO #welp looks like my haitus-turned writing crisis is over #i may or may not be wearing my hellfire shirt rn...#steddie #hellfire club #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie headcanon #lilys hcs #👕🧥#healing steddie

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