#steve harrington headcanons

[appocalipse]

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.

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve x you #steve x reader #stranger things fanfic #stranger things imagine #steve harrington scenario #steve harrington oneshot #steve harrington one-shot #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington headcanon #steve harrington headcanons #steve harrington hcs #steve harrington hc #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fic #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington drabble #steve harrington dialogue #steve harrington fluff

[steddielations]

Eddie uses petnames so much that they start to have more meaning to Steve than Steve.

When Eddie calls him baby, it means he’s soft, or he’s worried about Steve, “You okay, baby?” But babe is always casual. When Eddie’s handing him something, “Here, babe,” or with a peck on his lips, “Thanks, babe.” He calls him sweetheart when he’s teasing, “Oh you wish, sweetheart,” or when he’s being extra loving, extra sweet.

It’s not like Eddie never calls him Steve, but usually it’s something serious, or when there’s lots of strangers around, but most of the time he’s sweetheart and Stevie and big boy. He gets so used to the petnames that it throws him completely off when Eddie calls him Steve for no reason.

Eddie: Hey Steve can you—

Steve: What :(

Eddie: I said Steve can you—

Steve: Did I do something wrong :(

Eddie: No? I just need you to—

Steve: Then why did you call me that :(

Eddie: It’s your name?

Steve: No :( I’m baby

#i’m mostly kidding but yeah #he baby #steve harrington #steddie #mp #eddie munson #stranger things #steddie headcanons #steve harrington headcanons #eddie x steve #incorrect steddie #incorrect stranger things #incorrect quotes

[ddejavvu]

Steve stumbling over asking you out, so Robin gives him a push to try and get you to closer, to give Steve that extra shove... Except she pushes her bestie a bit too hard, and Steve ends up face first in your titties. Needless to say asking you out is not going as ‘king Steve’ planned. Although Steve and Robin are equally mortified over what just happened

The last thing you're expecting when you hear a half-hearted call of 'Watch out!' is a man's face in your chest. But that's exactly what you get, and it looks like neither he nor the girl who had warned you had expected it either.

"Holy shit!" The girl - you recognize her from band, Robin, you think? - gasps, and you mentally echo her sentiment while the man stumbles backwards trying to regain his balance. The top you're wearing at tonight's party is especially low-cut, and you'd felt every inch of his skin against your flushed chest. He doesn't end up catching his footing, falling backwards onto his ass on the floor instead.

Once you've got a clear look at his face, you process that it's none other than Steve Harrington. You're surprised he's at this party, you've heard they aren't really his thing anymore. He looks entirely defeated, face beet-red and shoulders tense as he peers warily up at you.

"I'm so sorry," Robin gushes, "I pushed him, and- I mean, I didn't mean for him to hit you, 'specially not nose-to-tits!"

Steve groans at her crude wording, "Shut up, Robin."

"I'm sorry," She repeats in earnest, ignoring her friend's pleas, "Um you're not- are you, like, hurt or anything?"

"Yeah, I speared 'em with my nose," Steve snaps, shoving at her thigh where he's slumped beside her legs on the floor, "Just shut up, Robin!"

"It's fine," You put an end to their squabbling, extending a hand towards Steve to help him off of the ground. You're not quite prepared for how bulky he is; perhaps he's still got his basketball physique, and when he takes it like a lifeline to pull himself up, you tip forward on your shaky legs right into his own chest.

You're trying to pull back before you've even made contact with his- shit, his surprisingly firm chest, but you still manage to face-plant slightly. There's a soft noise from Robin, then his hands come up to grab your shoulders and straighten you out.

"Sorry," You flush, mortified, "Uh- I'm a little drunk. Lost my balance, I guess."

"S'fine," Steve murmurs, looking a little bit like he might be sick, which isn't very reassuring. But his hands are still firmly planted on your shoulders, and you swear he's holding you closer than he needs to be.

"Well, now you're even," Robin concludes, slapping each of you on the back so that you jerk towards each other, if only a few measly inches, "I'm going to the bathroom, so if either of you wanna motorboat each other on purpose this time, you're free to do so."

This time, two voices call out, "Shut up, Robin!"

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington scenario #steve harrington oneshot #steve harrington one-shot #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington headcanon #steve harrington headcanons #steve harrington hc #steve harrington hcs #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fic #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington drabble #steve harrington dialogue #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington smut

[steveharringtonat3am]

OH what if you did something with grumpy!steve with sunshine!reader? Like they both like each other but she does something sweet for him that makes him melt!

Steve was having a horrible day. And by horrible, he meant it was like any other day. Keith had left a mountain of things to do, and he had to work the opening shift alone. Which meant he was starving and bored out of his mind.

He’s grateful when the bell rings for any sort of distraction, even if it comes in the form of your skipping, smiley-ness. You looked extra pretty today, in a cute sundress and a matching tote bag that you probably crocheted yourself. He wonders if you’ve ever considered crocheting something for him.

“Hi Steve!” You practically hop to the counter, leaning over it enough to taint the air of your strawberry perfume. He tries not to inhale too obviously.

“Hi.” He can’t help but feel less miserable in your presence, even if he is tired and hungry. His mouth waters just thinking of the burger he’ll pick up on his way home. Or atleast, that’s what he tells himself to explain the excess saliva in his mouth.

“Opening shift by yourself?” You ask knowingly.

“Yep. Keith just loves seeing me suffer.” He cracks a smile at your giggles. You always found a way to cheer him up, even without realizing it.

“Well, I’m here to end at least part of your suffering.” You pull a paper bag from your tote and he already smell the food inside. You slide it over the counter and he tries not to look too eager as he peaks inside. At this point, any food will do.

“It’s a ham and cheese sandwich. And some chips. And a juice box. And a brownie.” You smile sheepishly and he swears he could kiss you right there. He wants to dig in immediately but he manages some restraint.

He tries to pretend his heart isn’t beating out of his chest.

“My favourite. You remembered.”

“Of course I remembered. You remember everything about everyone. It’s the least I can do.” You’ve gone shy now and it makes him smile.

“You’re too sweet to me.” He tries to deflect but she only leans in closer.

“You deserve it.” She presses a soft kiss to his cheek before pulling away. She takes a step away, probably to leave but he catches her hand.

“Do you wanna…watch a movie later?” The words tumble out of his mouth before he can overthink them, but it’s worth the smile he recieves.

“Sure. My place at 7?”

“I’ll see you there.”

He waits until she’s gone to celebrate.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington scenario #steve harrington oneshot #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington headcanon #steve harrington headcanons #steve harrington hc #steve harrington hcs #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fic #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington drabble #steve harrington dialogue #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington x reader fanfiction

[bruisedboys]

can I request steve x shy!reader where he asks her out? I could imagine him being totally smitten and she is just beet red, can’t imagine that king steve is paying her any mind!

summary: a lovesick steve asks out a shy you

shy!fem!reader 0.8k words

You’re staring at your shoes like they’re the most interesting thing on the planet. Steve thinks it’s cute. He’s totally endeared by your shyness. He strides over to you and sticks his foot out to tap your shoe with his.

“Hey you.”

Slowly you lift your gaze. You’re already flushed in the cheeks and all Steve said was hey. He feels slightly bad for what he’s about to ask, how shy he’s about to make you, but then again he doesn’t think he can contain himself very much longer. Not when you look this pretty. Not when you’ve been waiting outside Family Video for five minutes, because Steve had called you and told you he had something to ask you.

You lift your head and Steve gets to see your face kissed by the lovely golden sun, your eyes pools of colour in the light. You’re really pretty. It makes his heart stutter.

“Hi, Steve,” you say quietly. Steve likes the way your lips move around his name. Likes the way you speak it like it’s something special and not just a generic white guy name.

He grins at you. “Hi,” he says, even though he’s already greeted you. He’s feeling about as nervous as you look. He swallows. “How’s it going, hm? You doing okay?”

You wrinkle your face up and lift your shoulder in a shrug. It’s soft. And undeniably cute.

“I’m okay,” you say softly. You smile at him, cheeks all plump and flushed, and Steve thinks you’re the prettiest girl in the whole of Hawkins. Maybe the whole world.

His heart pounds but he’s already here, he can’t back out now. He smiles back.

“Good, that’s good,” he nods, and cards a hand through his thick hair. He realises a second too late he’s probably messed it up — he’d spent about ten minutes checking it in the Family Video window before this, and now he’s gone and ruined it. Somehow, he doesn’t think you’d care even if his hair looks like a nest right now.

“What did you want to ask me?” You say, mostly shy but a little curious. You’d wondered aloud, when he’d called you, why he couldn’t just tell you over the phone. Steve had answered that this was too important for a phone conversation, he’d come and see you after work. You’d come to him instead. It makes the whole thing all the more nerve-wracking for Steve.

“Right. So I was wondering,” he starts, but his voice comes out constricted and too-high. Smooth, Steve. Real smooth. He’s not going to be telling Robin about this. “Uh, I wanted to ask you.” He pauses. You look half terrified and half hopeful. “Would you maybe want to go out with me sometime? I think you’re really cool and I like you a lot, but, um. You can say no.”

His voice goes up at the end and he cringes internally. Definitely not his smoothest moment. You blink up at him owlishly. You look, not surprisingly, quite stunned. Like Steve’s gone and told you he’s from Mars. Your mouth opens.

“Me?” You ask, your tone hushed.

A laugh bursts out of Steve before he can stop it. It’s less of an amused laugh and more of a she’s-so-cute-are-you-kidding-me? laugh.

“Yes, you,” he chuckles, grinning like a fool, his cheeks aching with it. “Who else?”

You flush all over and duck your head again, go back to staring at your shoes. “Well, you know, I’m— I’m quiet. And you’re …” You gesture vaguely to Steve with your hands. “You’re Steve Harrington.”

“Sweetheart,” he soothes, and grabs your hands before he can psyche himself out. He wraps his fingers over the back of your hands and pressed his thumbs to your palms. Gives you a gentle squeeze. “Don’t be silly. I like you. I don’t care if you’re a bit shy. Everyone is.”

You look up at him. You’ve got this look on your face like you’re trying very hard to frown but a smile is winning. “You’re not.”

“Oh, yes I am,” Steve says indignantly. You make me shy, he doesn’t say.

You giggle at his tone and it’s probably the best thing Steve’s ever heard in his life.

“I don’t believe you,” you say, all smiles.

Steve sighs. “Whatever.” He drops your joint hands so they dangle between you and him. “So, what’s your answer?”

He already knows your answer. Already knows you like him just as much as he likes you. Maybe not quite as much. He likes you so much it makes him feel queasy sometimes.

“Yes,” you say breathlessly, smiling like Steve has just told you you’ve won the lottery.

Steve feels a bit like he’s won the lottery himself, with you looking at him like that.

-

#★ mal writes! #ღ stevie #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington x reader fluff #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fic #steve harrington oneshot #steve harrington x shy!reader #steve harrington headcanons #✉️ #stevesmixtape!

[audhd-nightwing]

mechanic eddie this, mechanic eddie that

what about mechanic steve???

i love mechanic eddie don’t get me wrong, but… some of steve’s sole decoration in his bedroom is literally a picture of a car, he’s protective of the Beemer, you see his excitement at seeing/being able to drive a cool car in s3 (with the stolen car), plus it just seems like something he’d be interested in

(and it’s a “masculine” interest that’s accepted by society and he obviously cares a lot about what people think of him so it makes sense)

give me self-taught mechanic steve who fixes the Beemer himself, who thinks he’s stupid but knows practically everything there is to know about cars, who has a special interest in mechanics (and cars in general)

give me steve who loves going to car shows and seeing gorgeous vintage automobiles, who teaches robin a bit of car knowledge (bc she’s the kind of person who wants to know a little about everything)

give me steve working on the Beemer in a skin-tight tank top, coveralls tied around his waist, wearing work gloves, and covered in sweat and motor oil

give me eddie seeing this and tripping over his own feet, falling and looking up to see steve standing above him and holding out his hand with a grin

give me eddie yearning over mechanic steve and being adorably lovesick !!

#stranger things #steve harrington #mechanic steve harrington #steve harrington headcanons #eddie munson #steddie #steve harrington headcanon #steveddie #let my boy have interests #robin buckley #stobin friendship #mechanic steve

[urwhorecrux]

☆ you love steve's neck... and him

steve's lips on yours in the front seat of his car in the middle of the night was the best thing you've ever felt. they press against yours with every movement so gently, softly, a soft hum coming from him at the touch of your lips on his. you swear you've never felt as good as you do right now, he felt the same way, embracing every chance he gets to hold your face while kissing you. you break away, softly giggling at the flushed softness on his skin. you press your slightly glazed lips across his jawline, you notice his tenderness slowly falling, his head hitting the car seat headrest with a soft thump.

"fuck", his breath hitches at each kiss, you nuzzle into his revealed neck, feeling his adam's apple bobbing in his throat as you continue pressing your lips to his throat.

#stranger things fic recs #stranger things headcanons #stranger things imagine #stranger things smut #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington headcanons #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x reader smut #steve harrington x you

[infinite-orangepeel]

steve asks eddie to spot his squats at the gym so of course eddie agrees because duh it’s an excuse to stare at harrington’s ass. which goes well at first, they’re joking around & lightly flirting. but then eddie’s so mesmerized by steve’s ass that he totally forgets what he’s doing and steve’s just stuck there at the bottom doing everything he can to not let the barbell crush his spine yelling out, “um eddie! a little help here!”

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie #fruity four #stranger things #steddie brainrot #steve harrington/eddie munson #eddie x steve #steddie headcanons #steddie hcs #steddie blurb #steve harrington headcanons #steve harrington headcanon #eddie munson headcanons #eddie munson headcanon

[spectrum-spectre]

Ok I've seen a recent rise in Soft Tummy Steve fics and I love them with all my heart, seriously they're all fantastic, but can we get some love for Soft Tummy Eddie?

He's already a bit on the thinner side, and I imagine he'd probably lose more than a few pounds after being trapped in the Upside Down with little to no food for a while. Once he's back though, and his body realizes it can finally rest? Boy's deffo gonna gain some weight back with interest. The human body is literally designed to hold onto weight for as long as it possibly can in case of starvation/a famine, and it is Ridiculously easy to gain it if you're not actively trying to keep it as is.

Plus, he's gonna be bedridden for a while, whilst the bat bites and other various ailments get sorted out. Less physical activity + a steady (no pun intended) diet of hospital food and whatever snacky stuff the kids can sneak into his room = good rounding out.

All this is to say, once he's fully recovered and a bit more healthily plump, Steve is gonna be all over him.

#eddie munson #eddie munson headcanons #steve harrington #steve harrington headcanons #steddie #steddie headcanons #chubby eddie munson #weight mention #weight loss mention #weight gain mention

[m00nlight-ramblings]

Lucky You

You and Steve are (sometimes) friends with benefits, heavy on the "friends". While being partnered up for a school project, you both get distracted very easily.

Pairings: Steve Harrington x female reader

Warnings: smut (with very little plot), p in v sex, oral (female receiving), dirty talk. unprotected sex, friends with benefits. 18+ MINORS DNI

Word Count: 2.3k

A/N: My first Steve oneshot because I couldn't help it even though I didn't have any requests lol. I CAN'T HELP IT I LOVE THIS MAN OKAY?!

The math equations in front of you started to blur on the page, causing you to blink rapidly and press your fingers to your temples. You had been at it with this particular math problem for basically 30 hours now (aka 5 minutes), but you weren't getting any closer to solving it now than you were when you first moved to it.

"Yeah, I can't do this." Steve huffed, pushing his book in front of him and sighing, "This shit is way too hard."

"C'mon, we can't give up now - the project's due next week and we have like...20 more problems to do." You retorted, starting to press your fingers harder on your forehead.

Steve groaned and leaned towards you in defeat, his head heavily resting on your shoulder. Kicking his feet in a mock temper tantrum, he heaved his shoulders and pressed his full body weight against you, causing you to start to tip over.

"Steve! Stoppppp -" You started to giggle, trying to push him off of you. You saw his playful smile in the corner of your eye as he put even more of his body weight on you, eventually pushing you to the floor. You groaned loudly, throwing your hands in the air as he laid on top of your torso. "You're killing me, Harrington!"

"Come on, you love it!" He said, pushing on your stomach. You made a noise that could only be described as a "strangled gurgle" and started to slap his back.

"Okay, uncle, uncle! I wave my white flag, getoffame!" You finally pushed him off but stayed laying down, trying to catch your breath now that you had full control of your airwave again. Steve was laughing, rolling to a laying position right next to you. After a moment of silence - beside both of your laughter - he turned his head to you.

"I don't wanna do this project anymore." He said, pouting his lips. You turned your head to mirror him, staring into his puppy dog eyes. You rolled your own eyes, playfully hitting him on the shoulder.

"Well too bad, because our midterm grade relies on it." Steve sighed and you sucked your teeth, "You know, Steve, you're lucky Ms. Rollings paired us together, otherwise I have a sneaking suspicion that you'd fail this."

Steve gasped in mock horror, bringing a hand to his heart. "Lucky me? Lucky you! I'm the one pulling the full weight of this project!"

"Oh, yeah right!" You joked, laughing loudly. "That's horseshit!"

Steve scooted closer to you, casually throwing his arm around your waist, "Yes, it's very true. And as the person spear-heading this project, I have determined that we are due for a break."

You raised your eyebrows and turned on your side, fully melting into Steve's embrace. Your heart backflipped for a second - you had quite the idea of where he was going with this, and to say you were open and willing was an understatement. "Oh yeah?"

Steve nodded, playing into his joking role even more, "Oh, yes. And I have the best idea on how to spend it." He leaned his face in, his lips merely inches from your face. You couldn't help but smile, biting your lower lip.

"Oh yeah? And what's that?" Your hand found its way to Steve's waist, sneaking into his shirt. He gasped slightly at the feeling of your touch. He nodded slowly, leaning even closer in. His lips were touching yours now, causing your heart to beat faster.

"Why don't I show you, instead?" His voice was husky, causing your attraction to bloom in your belly. He licked his lips and quickly looked into your eyes, cocking an eyebrow.

Without waiting for your response, Steve pushed you gently on your back, sliding down your body. He smiled his signature Steve smile and played with the button on your jeans. While you slipped your sneakers off, you nodded at him, giving him the go-ahead. Hastily, he undid your top button, sliding down the jeans.

"Fuck, I missed doing this with you." He said, raising his eyebrows and lowering himself down to your level. He caught your lips in a kiss, sloppy and urgent. It had been a few weeks since you last hooked up, and not surprisingly, you were left with an ache only Steve Harrington could fill.

"I missed doing this with you." You teased back, biting down softly on his bottom lip. He groaned slightly, his eyelids fluttering closed. You smiled at the power you had in that moment - something about making The Steve Harrington weak made you feel on top of the world.

Steve hastily ripped off his tshirt, discarding it on the floor next to you. You mimicked him, your shirt joining his on the ground. Steve stared at your chest for a moment, covered in a lacy bra you kept hidden like a secret weapon. He whimpered and looked at you.

"You wore my favorite bra." He plainly stated, his eyes glazing over slightly. You smirked.

"Just a coincidence...laundry day."

It wasn't a coincidence.

Steve licked his lips, his gaze flickering between your eyes and your chest. He watched as you slowly - painfully slow, so you could tease him - undid the clasp of your bra behind you, your tits bouncing as they left the constraints of the bra. As you discarded your bra to the depth of the floor with your shirts, Steve groaned again, immediately reaching down to palm your tits.

"God, I could stare at these tits all day," He said, fingering your nipples. You hissed as you alternated between the two, the nipple not in between his fingers finding its way into his mouth.

"Fuck, Steve!" You whispered, your hands finding their way into his hair. He chuckled as he lapped at your tits, teething at the erect nipples gently. He swirled his tongue around your tits, leaving a trail of immediately drying saliva. You were quickly aware of how this wasn't going to be a slow and sensual fuck - this was going to be a burning-passion-I-need-you-right-now kind.

As if on queue, Steve slid down you body, throwing your legs to the side so he could bury his head in between them. You yelped quietly at the movement and he smirked, winking at you as he pushed your underwear to the side. He settled in, and while eyeing your cunt, he whistled.

"Whew, baby you are already so wet for me," He said, licking his lips, "I can see it from here...don't even need to touch it to know." He eyed you, teasing your wet folds with a gentle touch from one of his point fingers. You gasped at his touch, cocking an eyebrow.

"You going to tease me all night, Harrington, or you going to put your money where you mouth is?" You said through gritted teeth. He chuckled, taking his pointer finger to start circling your clit. You let your head hang backwards, your mouth agape. A shiver of pleasure shot through your body at his touch.

"Oh, I'll show you where I'll put my mouth." He said, his voice raspy. A moment passed before you felt his cool lips attach themselves to your clit, immediately sucking at just the right tempo.

"Oh, fuck, Steve!" You moaned, one of your hands flying to your side. You gripped the t-shirt next to you, balling it into your fist.

Steve replied with a moan, sending a vibration through your clit. You started to pant as his tongue lapped at your pussy, your legs involuntarily opening wider and wider. You felt your toes start to tingle as Steve inserted a finger, keeping at it with his tongue. He moaned as he ate your core, the vibration of the sound sending your closer and closer to the edge. Your free hand found its way to one of your tits, playing with a nipple. Steve looked up from your pussy and pulled away, smiling.

"That's it, play with your tits, you dirty girl." He immediately went back to your pussy and you felt your eyes start to roll back in your head. Sex with Steve was always fun, and sometimes funny, but when Steve was dirty, he knew just the thing to say to send you over the edge.

You were putty in his hands, and he knew it.

Steve's finger inside of you teased you, slowly moving in and out. He focused his attention at your clit, getting you closer and closer to orgasm. You felt the coil in your belly start to build, and your pussy started to tighten.

"I'm gonna cum," You said, your voice barely above a whisper. You didn't have your wits about you to be any loud - Steve's sexual ability was making your head swim, and y9our vision turn fuzzy. "Fuck, I'm so close."

Suddenly, Steve pulled away, wiping his mouth. Your head shot up to look at him and he smiled, pushing his underwear down. His erect penis stood at attention, desperate to be inside of you.

"If that's the case, then I'm going to make you cum on my cock." He said. Suddenly, you gripped your hips and flipped you over, immediately spreading your legs. Pulling you up by your hips, he positioned your ass in the air. With a swift slap - a loud TWACK echoing in the room - you felt him position himself at your entrance.

"Tell me you want it." He commanded, playing with your pussy. You felt the tip of his cock circling your entrance, never fully going in. Gasping at the feeling, you spoke.

"I want it. Fuck, Steve, I want it!"

"What do you want?"

"I-I want your cock!" You heard the neediness - the desperation - in your voice. If you were a character in a book or a movie, you would've rolled your eyes - how good does the sex have to be in order for someone to be so desperate to sound like that?

But you knew.

"I want your cock in me." Your voice was a whine as he chuckled. He slowly entered you, stopping about a quarter of the way. Your body tensed and you held your breath, waiting for the full feeling of him stretching you. He exited you and entered, again stopping about a quarter of the way. He did this two or three more times before he fully entered you without warning, slamming into your pussy.

You screamed in pleasure, throwing your head back. Steve grabbed hold of your hair and gave it a quick tug, finding pacing with his dick. Every thrust sent shockwaves through your body, the orgasm that Steve abandoned a few moments ago starting to creep back in.

Your body heat rose and you felt your forehead start to sweat, your words getting jumbled. They were somewhere between "fuckfuckfuck" and "yesyesyesySteveohyesyes", Steve's grunts and moans peppering between them.

"Fuck, this pussy is so good!" He said, his hair swinging with every thrust. Looking back, you saw that his lids were half closed, a sign that he was getting closer to his own orgasm. He caught your eyes and smiled, "Fuck, you look so fucking hot."

"Fuck Steve...I'm gonna fucking cum. You better make me fucking cum this time." You said, a smile playing on your lips. He smiled back, slapping your ass again and digging his fingers into your hips to hold you steady. His thrusts became a bit sloppy, and the rhythm he had been holding was now starting to come undone.

"I always make you fucking cum," He grunted, "I make you cum. You better scream my name when you cum." He commanded, this side of Steve rising in a way that only happens when you two had sex. You heart was beating so rapidly, seeing him sweaty and primal. The Steve you often fucked was so different than the Steve everyone else knew - it made your sex all the better, almost like a secret between you two.

Your orgasm was on the brink now, your vision peppered with black spots. The coil in your belly finally snapped, the rush of pleasure extending to your toes. You screamed his name, you hips bucking at his thrusts. Steve grabbed hold of your hair again before you felt his chest completely connect with your back, him laying on top of you. With two more thrusts, he groaned your name, his orgasm shooting into you. He reached one arm around your chest to hold you closer, his spasms moving you together as he held you close.

After a moment, silent except from panting from the both of you, he pulled out, immediately sitting on the ground to catch his breath. You wiped your brown and sat across from him, mirroring him.

"Fuck, that was so hot." He spoke, his voice tired. You nodded i agreement and smiled at him, causing a small fit of giggles to be exchanged.

And just like that, the usual Steve was back.

"I have to tell you something," Steve said, starting to slowly get dressed. He helped you by handing you your clothes, "What I said earlier? Totally not true."

Confused, you looked at him, "Steve, what the hell are you talking about?"

Zipping up his jeans, he smiled at you, "With sex like that? I'm the lucky one."

---

A/N: What did you guys think?? I had this idea for a while, and just wanted to put some pen to paper. It's not my favorite, but I do enjoy a good Steve smut lol. As always, likes/reblogs/comments are much appreciated <3

#steve harrington headcanons #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #steve harrington #stranger things #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fan fiction

[appocalipse]

heyy if ur taking requests could u maybe do like bestfriends steve + reader where steve, eddie, nancy and robin have to pick up reader from a party and she’s like REAL drunk and just idk super clingy w steve and doesn’t wanna not be touching him. maybe eddie, nancy and robin all make fun of him for it but they acc find it rly cute.

thank you for your request! ♥♥♥ | 2.2k words

"Stevie!"

You collide into him suddenly, nearly knocking him back a step or two with the force of your momentum; there's a smile on Steve's face when you look up at him through eyes that are more than a little hazy with inebriation. You're drunk. Probably way past drunk, if the way the world won't seem to hold still is anything to go by, but you don't care. There are other things vying for your attention—like how warm he feels against you, how safe he makes you feel, how pretty he looks from up close...

"Whoa," Steve says as you lean even further into him and loop your arms around his waist in a tight hug. "How much did you have to drink, exactly?"

He doesn't mean it in a mean way, which is why you grin up at him from where you've got your cheek pressed firmly to his chest. You can feel his heart beating under the palm of your hand now, a steady and calming rhythm that soothes something inside of you.

"Dunno," you reply, grinning stupidly when you catch sight of maybe three copies of Eddie Munson standing off to Steve's left; all of them have identical amused looks on their faces. "Might've had, like, a couple..."

Steve sighs deeply, though there's no exasperation or disappointment to be found in his expression when he tilts your face upwards to look you over properly. You just beam dopily at him, because he's so pretty right now you don't know what else to do.

"Dude," Eddie speaks up, drawing Steve's gaze away from you while your own attention goes back to pressing yourself even more snugly into him, "she is totally sloshed."

You frown, shaking your head in fervent disagreement.

"Am not!"

"Sure you aren't, sweetheart," Eddie agrees placidly, but you get the impression he doesn't really mean it.

Before you can point this out, however, the blurry shape of Robin Buckley steps forward. The room is dark with flashing strobe lights and smoky with incense and cigarette smoke, but you'd recognize her voice anywhere.

"Who let you drink this much?" Robin asks as she lifts a hand up to brush some hair back from your forehead.

It's oddly soothing and so you lean into the contact with a happy hum. Robin and the others laugh — but then again, it sounds kinder than mean, the kind of laugh that bubbles up when you find something unexpectedly endearing, and so you don't mind as much as you maybe should.

"Nobody," you mumble as you press your face into the side of Steve's neck and take a deep breath in; his scent is the same as always, earthy and warm with an underlying hint of that stupid spray he likes to use sometimes. "I'm here alone. 'Cause Steve here blew me off for you guys, but that's okay," you say, even though, to be fair, it sort of isn't true — he didn't blow you off.

"Hey," Steve starts, sounding half-indignant and half-apologetic all at once. He's got an arm around your shoulder now, supporting you and keeping you upright, which makes you want to tangle yourself up in him completely. "You didn't tell me you wanted me to come hang out with you tonight!"

You sigh mournfully against his skin, feeling wistful all of a sudden. It's true. You hadn't told him. That was partially due to the fact that you had been trying to prove to yourself that you weren't so desperately and helplessly infatuated with him that you needed his presence constantly, but that plan had obviously backfired on you spectacularly.

"No," you mutter unhappily as Steve moves the two of you towards a nearby couch. "But I missed you. Don't wanna miss you."

Nancy, Robin, and Eddie, who are watching the two of you with expressions of varying degrees of amusement, exchange looks. Steve pretends not to notice, probably because he knows he won't like what they have to say if he hears it, and instead guides you down onto the cushions next to him. "You're drunk."

"You're pretty," you reply without hesitation, even though you're very clearly changing the subject. "It's unfair, y'know?"

You hear Robin snort, followed by a quiet thud like someone's just been slapped on the arm, and you know it's her who laughed, and that it must have been Nancy who'd shut her up. You don't know where Eddie is; you're not even sure when he wandered off, to be honest. You're too focused on Steve and the way his face looks under the colorful flashing lights.

"Oh yeah?" he asks, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling too widely at your comment. His eyes are bright with laughter when you meet his gaze and nod confidently. "How do I get 'unfair', exactly?"

"'S all in the face," you say matter-of-factly, your own fingers trailing down his cheek in an almost absentminded gesture. "Kinda makes it hard to think about anything else sometimes, if I'm being real here. Like, it's not really fair, 'cause then what are we supposed to talk about? Oh, oh—and then there's your hair!"

"My hair?"

Robin wheezes somewhere behind you, which would have made you giggle if you were still paying attention to the people in the room besides Steve, but you're not.

"Mmhmm," you hum, your eyes running over the soft brown locks on top of his head. "Love it. Wanna touch it all the time. Y'see, Steve? You see? This is why it's not fair at all. And, and—" you trail off here for dramatic effect, squinting at him theatrically before leaning closer with your hand cupped to the side of your mouth, as if you're about to share something private. "—the way you make my insides feel? So, so unfair. Totally your fault, buddy."

"Wha-" Steve croaks out, looking alarmed and caught off guard by your drunken confession. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Oh," you regain your serious tone, frowning at him in a somewhat bemused manner when he continues to gape at you. "Not 'sposed to tell you. S'not the rules."

Eddie barks out a laugh somewhere off to your left, but Steve ignores him. "Rules?"

"Yeah, 's against the rules, dummy," you say, like he should've already known that. "Gotta follow the rules! Duh. Steve."

"Yeah, Steve, duh," Robin pipes up, earning herself a glare from Steve as well as a smirk from Eddie. "Oops, sorry. Please, continue."

"Can I touch your hair? Like, please, 'cause I might die if I don't, 'kay? If that's okay. Gotta test the theory. Just a little bit, though." You can tell by his expression that he wants to laugh, and that he's also mildly worried that you've lost your mind. "Please?"

Robin, Eddie and Nancy have their hands clapped over their mouths to contain their laughter. You're too drunk to notice, but Steve narrows his eyes at them in warning. "Yes," he says. "Just—yeah, go ahead."

With a little noise of excitement, you reach out to card your fingers through his hair. He smells really good — like clean laundry and fresh pine trees — and the feel of his hair in your palm is exactly what you had imagined, though you're loathe to pull your hand away now that you've felt it.

Steve goes unnaturally still as you press your face into the juncture between his neck and shoulder, a move he should have expected but didn't, and you sigh happily when the scent of his cologne hits you full force. He's like a living, breathing, cuddly teddy bear, you think, a combination of warmth, softness, and comfort all rolled up in one gorgeous, handsome, unobtainable package.

"You're warm," you mumble, feeling like you could fall asleep right now. "So, so warm. 'S like you've got a space heater in your chest, 'n that's like, so awesome."

He blinks a few times, momentarily speechless as he tries to come to terms with the fact that you are, in fact, drunk enough to be saying whatever the hell comes to your mind. "Uh, thanks?"

"Smell nice too," you murmur, hugging him tighter to you. "Like, wow. Love your hair, like, love love."

His cheeks are burning hot now, his heart beating erratically in his chest when he notices Eddie staring at the two of you with a knowing gleam in his eye. "That's—thank you, but, hey, come on now," Steve says, his voice faltering a little. "Let's get you home, okay?"

"I don't wanna."

"Don't you wanna sleep in your bed?"

You pause, considering his words, and eventually concede that, yes, your bed does sound lovely right about now, so you give him a brief nod in response. "I guess, but can you come too?"

He chokes on air, but manages to play it off by clearing his throat. "What—to your bed? No!"

"Why not?"

Steve shifts a little under your intense, alcohol-addled scrutiny; he feels strangely guilty, as though he's letting you down by saying no. "Because you're drunk?" he says, feeling flustered and unreasonably nervous all of a sudden.

You scrunch up your face in a pout. "Oh, that's a dumb reason."

Steve chuckles and you sigh happily again, because you love his laugh and everything else about him, and he seems to realize this, given the way his expression softens. "Come on, you drunkard. Let's go home," he says gently, tugging on your arm in an attempt to get you to stand.

You resist at first, shaking your head stubbornly as you hold onto him. "Can't. My legs don't work anymore. They're all wobbly."

Steve closes his eyes for a moment, huffs out a soft laugh, and you can't help but grin up at him. He's so pretty that, like, how is that even allowed? How can you be around him and not spontaneously combust or something?

"Well, what if I carried you?"

"Like a princess?"

Steve looks at you with an expression you can't decipher — it's halfway between incredulous and endeared, and it makes your heart feel too big for your rib cage.

"How romantic," Nancy observes.

"So long as she doesn't throw up on him," Eddie adds, nodding sagely in agreement.

"Oh, I hope she does," Robin says, with a devious smile, "he'd deserve it for being such a coward."

"I'm...right here, guys, and I can still hear you." Steve finally says, throwing them a scathing look that only makes them laugh. "If you're not going to be helpful, you can wait in the car."

"As if," Eddie counters.

Steve opens his mouth to tell him where exactly he can stick his opinions, when you grab the front of his shirt and drag him closer.

"Steve," you say, the smile falling from your face as a sudden thought occurs to you. "Are you mad at me? Because I can go home by myself. That's okay."

"Hey, no," he replies softly, "I'm not mad at you, sweetheart. Not ever."

"'Sweetheart'? Really?" Eddie mutters to Nancy, who elbows him in the ribs when he doesn't lower his voice in time. "Ow, okay, okay—just saying. Don't want them to keep dancing around each other forever, is all."

"I'm not dancing," you tell him, completely unaware of Eddie's snickering, "I don't have any shoes on, Eddie. Wouldn't be able to dance without shoes on. Silly."

"My bad," Eddie says, his lips twitching with badly concealed laughter, "forgive me."

Steve scowls at him before turning his attention back to you, his face so close to yours that you can momentarily feel the tickle of his breath against your skin. "Okay, come on," he says, "up we go."

And then, in one swift movement, he slides his arm under your knees and scoops you up into his arms. You let out a squeak of surprise and automatically wrap your arms around his neck to steady yourself.

"Oh, oh, oh," you say excitedly, "you really are gonna carry me."

"Told you so." Steve adjusts his grip on you and makes his way towards the exit. "Are you good? Am I hurting you?"

You shake your head slowly, grinning as you stare at him from a whole new angle. "No," you tell him, feeling much more awake than you were moments before. "This is...this is like, actually kinda cool."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," you repeat, smiling shyly back at him. "Feel like a real life Cinderella now. Whoa, you're, like, super strong."

"Yeah, Stevie, you're 'super strong.'" Eddie teases, waggling his eyebrows when Steve sends him a quick glare. "Aw, don't look at me like that. It's cute. The two of you."

Nancy doesn't tease like Robin and Eddie do. She walks behind Steve, making sure to stay a couple steps behind to give the two of you some privacy. Even so, when you look over your shoulder to make sure nobody's listening, she gives you a wink and a small thumbs-up that makes you smile.

The parking lot is filled with teenagers all wandering aimlessly in groups, so it takes Steve a while to navigate his way through the crowd. By the time he finds the spot where he parked his BMW, you've grown drowsy enough to rest your head on his shoulder.

Eddie immediately pops open the door to the backseat, slapping it a few times as he looks over at Steve and grins. "Hurry it up, lover boy," he drawls out, "she looks half-asleep already."

"She's fine," Steve shoots back, frowning in annoyance when Eddie and Robin both pretend to yawn exaggeratedly, "shut up. I hate you guys."

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve x you #steve x reader #stranger things fanfic #stranger things imagine #steve harrington scenario #steve harrington oneshot #steve harrington one-shot #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington headcanon #steve harrington headcanons #steve harrington hcs #steve harrington hc #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fic #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington drabble #steve harrington dialogue #steve harrington fluff

[steddielations]

Of course Steve’s birthday is on Christmas.

It’s like the universe aligned perfectly for his parents to ignore his existence. Sure, he got enough presents to cover both when he was younger, when his parents wanted a perfect family holiday card to send out, but it was never about Steve.

When he got older, it was so easy for them to wrap it all up in one, mail him a check from whatever city, until the cards stopped saying happy birthday at all. Steve started wrapping it all up in one too. If his parents were going to leave him alone on Christmas and forget his birthday, it’s better at the same time, one less day of the year to be disappointed.

He hates December. He hates winter. He hates being surrounded by all those pretty lights taunting him for being alone in the dark.

He sort of forgets he has a birthday, until the last couple of years with Robin and the kids. He always tells them his Christmas present can double as his birthday present. Robin never goes for that though, she only gets him a birthday present.

Now comes Eddie. He doesn’t know about the wrap it up in one deal. He doesn’t know that Steve gets all broody around the subject. He’s just sitting next to Steve on the couch, going on about the fishing trip he’s taking Wayne on for his upcoming birthday.

It sounds nice. It’s only one weekend. Steve shouldn’t feel a pit in his stomach that already misses Eddie. They’re just friends, they can’t spend every weekend together, as much as Steve likes tagging along with whatever Eddie’s doing, he has to give him space.

“Yeah so it’s nothing compared to a big Harrington bash,” Eddie teases, passing Steve the joint, “Say, am I cool enough now to be invited to your birthday rager this year? When is it anyway?”

And that’s a simple question, but Steve doesn’t know what it is about Eddie that just draws the truth out of him, that makes him give the not simple answer. He blows out smoke and all the years of forgotten birthdays wrapped in one check and a Christmas card with it.

It’s too much, he’s too much and he starts to apologize, but Eddie cuts him off with a certain intensity he gets sometimes.

“Well, starting right now, fuck that. When do you want your birthday to be?”

Steve chuckles, tries to brush it off, “What? Eddie, c’mon. It’s not a big deal, dude.”

“No, seriously. When do you want your birthday to be, Steve?”

It’s so stupid. It’s so silly sitting in Eddie Munson’s living room trying to decide which day he’d prefer for his birthday, when he’s barely holding back saying how he sort of wishes he didn’t have one at all. He thinks Eddie knows anyway, without him having to say it, so he makes it easier. Eddie always makes it easier.

It takes a couple of tries, a couple cups full of torn pieces of paper with scribbled numbers randomly chosen, but Steve Harrington gets a new birthday that night.

“Yeah, you look like more of a summer baby anyway,” Eddie says and Steve wishes he wouldn’t, it’s so hard not to love him when he does.

Steve gets to tag along on Wayne’s birthday fishing trip, or rather, he was invited, as Eddie keeps correcting.

It’s nice, it’s May, it’s quiet by the river and it gets just cool enough at night to build a campfire. Eddie pulls out his guitar, a pretty acoustic one, and he playfully strums out the chords to happy birthday for Wayne. Steve watches across the fire, he feels warm down to his bones, melting away all those cold lonely Decembers frozen inside them.

Wayne spends his birthday teaching Steve to fish. He catches the biggest one, and he hopes the Polaroid that Eddie snaps doesn’t pick up the tears in his eyes.

Eddie sidles up next to him, pretending not to notice Steve wiping his eyes. He rubs his back, whispers congratulations, “Look at you, summer baby.”

He feels the sun rising in his cheeks, bright and burning. It’s impossible not to love Eddie, not when this is the best birthday Steve’s ever had and it’s not even his own.

Steve forgets all about the new date he chose to come into the world, and as the weeks pass in a warm haze, he stops trying not to love Eddie.

It’s too late to catch himself. He’s already falling as they lie on the trailer roof, talking about everything and nothing while sunset colors melt over them, as he rides along while Eddie deals and calls Steve his summer baby in the passenger seat.

Steve’s so in love with Eddie that it burns, makes him golden inside, even the places in him that have never known anything bright.

He doesn’t want to lose that, so he tells himself he can settle for just this.

And it’s true for a while, until that date comes along, the one he forgot about, but Eddie didn’t.

Robin has a spare key to his house, she helped Eddie plan all this, that’s the only explanation for what Steve sees in his backyard when he gets off work on a Friday in July.

All the kids are there, Dustin Henderson is in the pool that Steve hasn’t used since ‘83, with El Hopper on his shoulders, Mike Wheeler is doing the same holding up Will Byers, Lucas Sinclair and Max Mayfield are wrestling inside a bounce house, Nancy Wheeler is manning the grill Steve’s dad bought for show, Robin Buckley is grinning ear to ear with a bright glass of lemonade, and Eddie Munson’s at the center of it all.

Everyone that Steve loves is there yelling, “Surprise! Happy birthday!”

He can’t describe the feeling that bursts through him.

The July sun isn't in the sky anymore, it’s rising inside Steve’s chest. It’s too big and too bright. This body of his that grew up alone in the dead of winter wasn’t made to feel such warmth, bringing hot tears to his eyes.

He’s hurrying back inside the house before he knows it. He feels bad, rushing out like that, away from his party, but he just needs a second. He has to lean against the kitchen counter, run his hands over his face and through his hair, trying to stop all these feelings from melting out of him.

He hears someone come in behind him, assumes it’s Robin, but he feels a hand on his back, hears a low, reassuring voice next to him that belongs to Eddie.

“Sorry, fuck, I’m sorry, Steve. I should’ve asked if you were okay with this. I shouldn’t have sprung it on you like that.”

Steve blinks hard, brushing away the tears, “No it’s— It's fine, Eds, really.”

Eddie doesn’t look convinced, brown eyes deep with concern, he holds Steve’s elbows, “Okay well, Robin said you weren’t really a fan of your pool but that’s okay, if that’s what you’re worried about. No one expects you to get in, Stevie.”

He’s perfect. He’s everything Steve wants and needs. The light that’s been missing inside him, Eddie struck a match to it. Steve never knew his heart was so flammable and he doesn’t know how Eddie can’t see that he’s burning for him.

“No, thats— that’s not it, Eddie.”

“Is it the kiddy theme? Listen, I had trouble picking it, so I just thought maybe since it was mostly gonna be kids here and you never had a kids' birthday party then, y’know, summer, pool, bounce house, games— okay it sounds dumb now, I’ll just get everyone to leave—”

Steve reaches out when Eddie starts to pull back, hands catching his shoulders and the ends of his hair, “No, no, please don’t. This is— it’s perfect, Eddie. I can’t believe you did this for me.”

“Then why do you look so sad?”

“Because I—” Steve can’t hold it in anymore, it’s too hot, summer beneath his skin, he has to let it out, “Because I want to kiss you so bad right now and I can’t.”

He expects Eddie to pull back, or worse, let him down gently, like the quick press of fingertips to the flame of a candle, snuff the feeling out just like that.

Instead, Steve’s breath catches when Eddie’s hands cup his face, thumbs brushing away the stray tears Steve missed.

“Who says you can’t?” Eddie asks and part of Steve wishes he wouldn’t, because it’s so easy to love Eddie with every piece of him when he does, and Steve’s going to fall apart trying to stop.

“I shouldn’t have said that, sorry. I just don’t want to lose you as a friend, you don’t have to feel the same, but that’s what it is,” Steve lets it out, let’s it catch fire between them and just hopes it doesn’t turn them to ashes, “I want to kiss you for doing this for me, for being you. I want to kiss you all the fucking time and especially right now, Eddie, but I can’t.”

He waits for it, to be left out in the cold, for frost to cover his bones again, but Eddie’s hands stay warm on his face.

A smile lights on Eddie’s lips, the kind that Steve can feel radiating between them. He doesn’t know why Eddie’s smiling when he should be leaving, but Steve wants to keep that feeling forever.

“Didn’t anyone ever tell you, Stevie? You can do whatever you want when it’s your birthday.”

Eddie’s eyes fall to Steve’s lips and back up again, setting off a surprised flare in his chest.

“Whatever I want?” Steve repeats in disbelief, searching Eddie’s eyes.

“Whatever you want.”

“You want that too?”

“I want you, too,” Eddie grins like it’s the easiest thing in the world to want Steve, then leans in.

Their mouths connect and it’s like something fiercely cosmic, a solar flare at the touch of their lips.

Eddie’s been sipping lemonade, Steve can taste it on his tongue. Citrusy and warm, Eddie tastes like pure fucking sunshine, all golden in Steve’s mouth.

Kissing Eddie feels like he’s at the center of the universe. He makes Steve feel like the sun, like the brightest thing in the goddamn sky is Steve Harrington.

No pretty light could compare.

Steve chases the heat of Eddie’s mouth, letting it light a fire inside him. His hands have a mind of their own, making Eddie’s messy hair even messier, then falling to his waist to pull him close and hold him while he just kisses and kisses and kisses Eddie.

They have to break for air, foreheads resting together, Steve misses Eddie’s lips already.

Their panting breaths fuse, gazes locked for a few delirious moments, half-lidded and close.

Eddie breaks the silence, laughing breathlessly, giving Steve’s lips one final peck before pulling back, brushing Steve’s hair out of his eyes for him.

“You good?”

Steve laughs then too, a rush of breath, relieved and light, “Never been better.”

Eddie smiles, taking Steve’s hands in the warmth of his, “C’mon then, summer baby. Don’t wanna miss your birthday party.”

They go back outside and Eddie stays close by Steve with a pretty flush high on his cheeks. Steve’s face feels sun-kissed too, and judging by the look he gets from Robin, it shows.

It should be stupid, having a birthday party with a bounce house and a bunch of screaming kids. Maybe it is a little, but it’s still the best birthday Steve’s ever had, and it’s actually his own this time.

He spends the better part of it trying not to cry, especially when he opens the few presents they got him. He’s not used to everything being about him, but Eddie’s arm stays around him, giving him encouraging squeezes, bursts of warmth that keep him going.

Steve’s not forgotten in the shadow of something bigger, wrapped up in one so it’s easier to forget he exists. No, it’s like nothing’s more important than him that day. He doesn’t need it, and it’s hard to let himself have it, but it’s nice to get a day that’s his.

When Christmas comes later that year, Robin still gets Steve a birthday present, there’s no arguing with her. Then Eddie tries to pull the same thing, and Steve’s not having it.

They’re both in their flannels on the couch, Eddie throwing his legs over Steve’s lap and trying to push the extra gift into Steve’s hands.

“C’mon, Stevie, I swear it’s not a birthday present. It's just because.”

“Uh huh, sure. Just because what?”

Eddie shrugs, rests his arm around Steve’s shoulders and presses the words against his cheek, “Just ’cause I love you,” he says like it’s the easiest thing in the world to love Steve.

Steve thinks he knows what to call that feeling now. The one that makes December easier because he’s got his own summer sun pumping warmth through his veins now.

It's love.

Eddie loves him.

Not just on his birthday, or on Christmas, or only on occasion, but everyday. Eddie loves him everyday.

ao3 link

#when you love someone so much you just gotta give them an extra birthday #not a christmas fic i swear #steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie fic #steve x eddie #stranger things #eddie x steve #my fics #rueswriting #steddie ficlet #steveddie #fluff #mp #steddie fanfiction #steve harrington headcanons

[ddejavvu]

Steve Harrington getting you a stuffed toy just as a present, because he is a gentleman and a good boy and is really in love with you. But then as he comes to just hang out with you at yours, he accidentally spots you on top of his plush toy he got you, and sees you riding it. And his poor jaw nearly drops off his face

this post is 18+, minors dni.

listen that dude stuck the stuffed animal in his car. his car that smells overwhelmingly of his cologne. He sat that thing on the back seat and it was over for you, the fur of the stuffed animal smells like him forever. the thing is, it's a big stuffed animal. like he barely fit it in the backseat of his car. so when you cuddle up to it at night and try sleeping, you're inhaling his scent while simultaneously being pressed up against this massive figure. it.. does not take you long to figure out how to proceed.

and you feel dirty, grinding on this stuffed animal, but if you close your eyes and inhale it smells just like steve, and you find that the fur of the stuffed animal comes in handy for muffling your moans.

it just so happens that your moans can't be completely silenced, so when steve treks up the stairs to your bedroom and you're too engrossed in chasing your orgasm that you don't hear him, he walks into your room and hears exactly what you're trying to keep quiet.

he sees your hips rutting desperately against the giant stuffed animal, your panties soaked with a wet spot from the slick you've smothered the fabric in. You're burying your face desperately against the stuffed animal, just the way you do against steve's chest, and he's all-too-familiar with the moans that are steadily flowing from your slick, parted lips.

"Steve, Stevie-nngh! Ah, Steve," You pant, hips bucking relentlessly, but in vain, against the disappointingly soft stuffed animal. You're in search of friction, but you can't seem to find it against the stuffed softness of the toy.

Really, steve thinks he'd be cruel not to help you out. He moves swiftly, throwing a knee up onto your bed and lining his hips up behind you, a steady bulge growing in his pants from the long while he'd spent watching you without your knowledge. His weight crushes you and he lets it, barely holding any of it with his own arms. His nose hits the back of your neck and he inhales just as you'd done with the stuffed animal, smelling your perfume and sweat alike.

You scream when you feel his hands take hold of your hips but when you register that it's your boyfriend, your terror turns to shame.

"Steve," You cry, still crushed beneath his weight, "I- I'm sorry, I-"

"Don't be sorry," He speaks lowly, grunting slightly as he experimentally humps the friction of his jeans over your ass, rubbing tantalizingly close to your sensitive, aching cunt, "Put your head down again, baby. It'll keep you quiet."

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington scenario #steve harrington oneshot #steve harrington one-shot #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington headcanon #steve harrington headcanons #steve harrington hc #steve harrington hcs #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fic #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington drabble #steve harrington dialogue #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington smut

[steveharringtonat3am]

Do you think you could write something about doing your makeup routine in front of Steve? I feel like he’d be so fascinated about the process

“What’s that?” Steve sits on your bed behind you, watching through the mirror of your vanity. You hold up the tube in question and he nods.

“This is just tinted moisturizer. I use it under my foundation to colour correct.” You explain, showing him the bottle of foundation you use. Pumping some onto the back of your hand prompts another question.

“Why do you put it on your hand?” He’s sat up now, starting to get interested in the process. He’s seen you with and without makeup plenty of times, but never in between.

“It’s just easier. I can control how much I get on the brush and see how much I need.” You begin blending the foundation into your skin and it’s clear that Steve is only now making the connection as to how your skin changes tone every so often.

“Is it supposed to be a little…off?” He asks in an attempt to be polite about it. He relaxes when he sees you laugh at him in your reflection.

“Yes babe. It’s kinda hard to find a perfect match so I go a little lighter and then correct it with bronzer.” You hold up the compact in question and he nods as if he has any idea what it is. You pull out your concealer, dabbing some on your undereyes and on a few spots. He’s gotten distracted fixing his hair, but grabbing a new brush draws his attention back to you.

“What’s that for?”

“Well, since someone wants to stay up late and makeout, I have to use this and cover my dark circles.” He can only smile sheepishly at your remarks.

“I can’t help it. You look so pretty before bed.” You hum in response, making a note to do your skincare from here tonight.

“Anyways, this is the bronzer.” You place some underneath your cheek bone, blending in the warmer powder to bring in some colour to your face.

“That looks nice.” He nods in approval as he sees your face return to it’s normal shade. He continues to watch as you pull out a small compact of blush. You ignore his cheshire grin when you force a small smile to bring out the apples of your cheeks.

“Stop it.”

“I can’t help it, you look adorable.”

“It’s a stupid face. You’re not allowed to look anymore.” You chastise, putting away the pink powder. Internally, you can’t help but feel flattered. If a man likes your stupid makeup faces, he really loves you.

“Come on! You look so pretty.” You roll your eyes as you pick up your mascara.

“Be quiet for this one.” You instruct, ignoring the way he mock-zips his mouth. You bring the thoroughly coated wand to your lashes, gently coating them. You repeat the process and once you pull away, Steve lets out a breath you hadn’t realized he was holding.

“That looked horrifying!” He complains, climbing off the bed to get super close to your face until he’s convinced you hadn’t poked an eye out.

“I’m fine babe. See?” You flutter your eyes at him but his frown persists.

“Is that all?” He fixes a strand of your hair as you place your things in your makeup bag.

“Just lipgloss and I’m done.” You swipe the wand over your lips a few times, smiling at him when you’re done. The poor gloss lasts for a second before Steve swoops in to press his lips against yours messily. When he’s done, there’s sticky pink gloss on both of your lips and chins.

“There!” He smiles proudly. “Now we match.”

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington scenario #steve harrington oneshot #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington headcanon #steve harrington headcanons #steve harrington hc #steve harrington hcs #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fic #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington drabble #steve harrington dialogue #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington x reader fanfiction

[wroteclassicaly]

Warnings: Filth below!

~*~

Steve Harrington is addicted to being pussy drunk. His face is always flushed, right down to his hairy chest, the five o’clock shadow cascading across his chin and around his jaw is soaked with arousal, his lips red and swollen from alternating kisses on your own mouth, all over your neck, and sucking on your clit. His tongue is aching from the work it’s taken to drink your cunt as he milks your orgasms for all they’re worth. Sometimes he’s beneath your sheets, the dim glow of your bedroom lamp or the moonlight surrounding his freckled spattered physique. He’s moaning underneath the fabric, his body working back and forth—a visible shape beneath the blankets.

When you lift the blanket (sometimes completely off to see yourself riding his mouth) he’s absolutely hazy in diabolical pleasure, lost to the ridiculous debauchery, cheek pressed against your thigh, cock rutting into the mattress, irises mere flakes of scattered cinnamon across an expanse of inky black pupils. He hums, tendons in his throat straining. Steve Harrington does not need to be touched to get off on your pleasure, especially if it’s involving your perfect cunt.

Other times he spreads you out on the backseat of his car, enjoying how the windows fog up with your heavy breathing, how your calves tense against his neck as your legs are thrown over his shoulders, feet knocking into his window. Bad day? He can fix it. Celebrating? Fuck yeah, ride his face!

Anywhere in public that he can get away with dropping to his knees or bending you over to try new positions to lick inside of you. And you wonder, does this man take notes? Cause’…

Your personal favorite is seeing Steve in nothing but his little tight denim jeans, cock straining and begging for mercy against the heavy barrier. His perfectly gifted fingers keeping your thighs held wide open, his mouth slurping sloppily from you, no rush, just lazy enjoyment.

And if you ask Steve what he likes the most? Well, all of it, but there is one occasion… or more. He remembers those times with a twitch between his thighs, how you’re completely naked and he has access to keeping your breasts in his hands, your body sprawled out shamelessly, scent clinging to his bed spread, slick pooling beneath your ass. You tug and run your fingers through his hair as if it’s your lifeline, sometimes splaying your hands across his wrists, arching that cunt into his face and rutting against his hot mouth. He never stops you, let’s you own your pleasure, use him.

And that moment when your dirty mouth starts spouting off the nastiest comments… Steve usually sheds his pants and rubs his cock with a closed fist or into the bed, depending on his mood. He looks at you through his lashes, glazed eyes wet with desire. He’ll give your ass biting slaps, beckoning you impossibly closer, until his nose is smashed into your clit and your arousal is invading his every sense. It doesn’t matter if you’re shaved, trimmed, or not. The little shit will run his fingers through your sticky curls, tutting in appreciation.

There’s also times that Steve needs you, and he takes you right to bed or in the chair, maybe over a piece of whatever furniture or surface is nearby. You let him feast on you like a starved animal, and you accept it like it’s your last day on earth (who fucking knows in Hawkins…).

Steve likes splitting your labia open with his fingers and hearing that first squelch. He’ll toss out a praise and kiss you there, maybe tease your thighs a little first.

Steve Harrington is always in the mood to worship your pretty little pussy.

~*~

#probably forgetting some to add but yeah… my nasty brain is on fire with visuals rn #kristenwrites #steve harrington x y/n smut #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x female reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington #steve harrington headcanon #steve harrington headcanons #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington drabble

[rafesmuse]

Steve Harrington as your boyfriend

warnings: fluff, nsfw at the end

author’s notes: yes this is a reupload because my blog got flagged 😞 also my first stranger things post !

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the relationship

first of all, this man will do anything for you

and i mean anything

whatever you need, he will do it

even if he doesn’t feel like it sometimes, just you looking at him with your adorable eyes is enough

he just can’t say no to you

so good at making you laugh, especially when he didn’t mean to be funny

he’s just a giant goofball and that enough can cheer you up

listen he will try to act tough with you in public but he is one big baby with you in private

he just feels so comfortable with you and loves it when you take care of him

sometimes takes you to parties and is very protective of you

if he ever sees someone flirting with you, he will not hesitate to call them out or even start a fight if they go too far

doesn’t matter how long you’ve been together, he will still flirt with you which makes you cringe sometimes

he will flirt with you as if the two of you just met, basically a lot of cheesy opening sentences

affection

he is not shy to be affectionate with you in public

he is so proud that you’re his and he wants to show you off

if someone is staring at you, he will not stop or even go further just to tease the person watching

always has a hand on your waist

randomly picks you up sometimes and throws you over his shoulder just because he can

the kind of person who will whine if you get out of bed earlier than him

he just loves cuddles

arguments

listen this man is clueless

if you’re angry at him but don’t tell why, he will not understand and he doesn’t get hints

however, if you explain it to him, he will most of the time be very understanding

you are his everything and he will always try his best for you

he hates arguments

he can be stubborn but will always apologize afterwards

if it ends up with you crying, he will pull you into his arms after grabbing tissues while kissing your head to calm you down

nsfw

i feel like he is not that much into too extreme stuff

he just want it to be romantic and please you

his main priority is you and will always make sure that you feel good

he loooooves to eat you out

this man can give some toe curling, heart throbbing, back arching, head spinning, mouth watering head

praising. he praises you so much

will whisper sweet things into your ear while fucking you

he can be rough sometimes, mostly when he’s angry or after an argument

if that happens, it will include hair pulling and degradation

he doesn’t get horny quickly except when he’s at a party and drunk, then he will literally take you to the bathroom for a quickie

king of aftercare but will fall asleep very quickly

comments and reblogs are always appreciated !!

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thank you for reading !! <3

#❥ my works #steve harrington #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington headcanon #steve harrington hc #stranger things smut #stranger things #steve harrington headcanons #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things hc