definitely_not_cereal

It gets little less funny when Eddie joins in with completely different vibe tho; calling Steve mom, mami, mommy, mamacita.. Whatever his lovesick/ horny brain finds appropriate for the situation.

Steve has another concussion, and Hopper wants to check on him but doesn’t have the time Or ability since he is trying to juggle having a super powered daughter, the upside down, and the government breathing down his neck all the time, so yeah, he hasn’t had the time to check on Steve recently and he knows no else has either because A. Steve’s lack of parents and B. Basically everyone else who knows is an actual child who isn’t thinking about that sort of thing. Someone needs to do something about Steve, but who?

Hopper is driving around town on patrol, thinking of casual ways to pop in on Steve and take him to an actual doctor when spots Eddie Munson selling out the back of his van. By the time pulls up the buyer is gone but Munson is there clearly geared up to give hopper his usual spiel about making ends meet and unfair treatment but hopper is so tired of it. Tired of catching this poor kid selling weed, doing some sort of property damage, or just being a general nuisance in town, it would save so much time and paper work if this kid had something else to do.

That is when the lightbulb goes off.

In an act of goodness as well as alternative motive, hopper offers to let Eddie off easy, no arrest, no nothing, if Eddie agrees to keep an eye on Steve Harrington for him. Eddie At first thinks hopper is joking with him? ‘Keep an eye on Steve’ is he trying to hire Eddie as some sort of informant? Is big boy king Steve part of some underground secret smuggling ring that hopper requires Eddie help to bust?

he learned how to flip a pencil around his thumb in middle school and seeing someone in one of the meetings he sat in on doing it. he'll twirl anything he can around in his hand, especially while he was working in the mall. the scoopers were perfect for it. and any way youve seen a drummer/percussionist fiddle with a drumstick, steve knew he had to replicate it.

but even with all this movement and the fact the guy was barely ever not moving, it seemed like no one noticed it ever. a fact that nearly drove eddie insane when they were in high school together. because he did have the reputation of being restless, and in a constant state of movement. and he probably fucked around with random shit less, so how did steve "the hair" harrington not end up with the same reputation? the answer was just that he was way more quiet("and sneaky" -eddie) about it. and if the teacher hated when their students fiddled and futzed he'd be sure to try and keep the movement below his desk.

but it not that he only has to keep his hands busy. no no no, if bored or stuck waiting, and that won't suffice, steve harrington will pick up anything with words just to read it. anything. outdated newspapers, ingredients lists, magazines of any topic. he just mindlessly grabs for whatever and starts fucking reading. Robin could swear under oath to a court that her best friend has read the back of every vhs in family video. hell, she's seen him reading drugstore novels, like the fucking grandma smut and books with cover art of nicely dressed ladies running from a castle. and its her jock best friend reading it, instead of some repressed suburban woman who hates her husband. yes, this information is the bane of robin buckley's exsistance because its not like anyone would believe her.

written for @steddieholidaydrabbles | prompts: cabin | wc: 699 | rating: teen & up | tags: steve pov, steve harrington has a crush on eddie munson, good uncle wayne, sharing body heat, one bed, fluff, getting together

Wayne and Eddie have been so accommodating, so kind, and almost embarrassingly welcoming to him joining their annual ice fishing road trip to Michigan that asking for an extra blanket feels criminal. With how much they’ve opened their arms to him after his parents all but ghosted for the holiday season, he’d rather freeze to death in this fucking cabin than dare to ask for something as stupid as an extra blanket. Besides, the cabin is small enough that he and Eddie are sharing a room; eventually, he’ll come to bed, feel how cold it is for himself, and go grab extra blankets on his own. 

He’ll survive for as long as it takes for Eddie and Wayne to finish the spaghetti western they’d been watching when he came to bed. 

Steve’s been through worse. 

Cool moonlight streams in beneath the thick, plaid curtains and illuminates the far wall, accentuating its wooden details and the knickknacks lining the shelves— a collection of small, handmade stuffed wildlife, framed photos of the lake, books with worn spines well-loved over the years. It’s a quiet space, a sanctuary that Steve’s never had even if he might lose a few toes. 

Is the cabin the sanctuary? Or is it the rare time alone with Eddie? 

He tries not to think about how many times he’s thought of this over the last couple years, how often he’s laid in bed imagining Eddie coming to bed with him and not just in the ways that make him squirm and sweat. He’s pictured it a hundred times over: Eddie sneaking in beneath the covers, trying not to wake him up but it’s not like Eddie has ever been smooth a day in his life. Steve would wake up from a light sleep, turning over to welcome him in and pull him close, wrinkling his nose against Eddie’s frizzy curls as he buries his face in Steve’s neck. He’d listen to him breathe, feel his body grow heavier and heavier against Steve’s and fall asleep to the even cadence of his heartbeat. 

Steve takes a deep breath and shakes his head, focusing instead on the organic spirals and swirls of the logs that make up the cabin walls. With heavy-lidded eyes that grow heavier despite the cold, he traces the markings and imagines patterns and pictures in them the way he had the starts as a kid. One looks like a moose without its antlers, another like an abstract palm tree. He doesn’t find a third one, and falls asleep trying. 

When he wakes up a couple of hours later, Steve’s warm. 

Extra blankets, soft wool, weigh him down and he sighs into the comforting presence that engulfs him. One tattooed arm rests over his hip and another squeezes beneath his pillow, a hand outstretched with silver rings that cover each finger and gleam in the slivers of light that continue to creep in between the curtains. Blinking his eyes open and biting the inside of his cheek to make sure he’s not dreaming, Steve realizes the warmth he’d woken up chasing is Eddie. 

Do I move over? Does he realize I’m not a pillow? Does he actually want this the way I want this? Did I die of hypothermia after all? Does he— 

“You think really loud, Steve,” Eddie whispers into the dark, his lips moving against Steve’s hair as he squeezes him gently around the middle. “Is this okay?” 

“Mhm,” Steve hums. “You’re so warm.” 

“Good, you were shivering when I came to bed.” He feels Eddie chuckle behind him, quiet breaths against his neck. He wants to turn around, to tuck himself into Eddie’s comfort and maybe just never leave. 

“Didn’t wanna bother you or Wayne for another blanket. Kinda glad I didn’t now,” Steve admits, words slurring as his shoulders sag. He wiggles back, trying to get impossibly closer. 

“We’ll talk more about that in the morning.” Eddie squeezes a knee between Steve’s and tangles their legs together. 

Steve nods wordlessly, pulling the top blanket further up beneath his chin. 

Does it make sense? Probably not but idc I just think it looks cool, although it would probably make it kinda hard for Ford to look at him sometimes

prompt: stargazing | rating: T | cw: none | tags: fluff, older steddie | wordcount: 472

@steddieholidaydrabbles

“It’s so cold tonight.”

“We can always go back inside and have our coffees on the couch.”

“Not a chance.”

The ever stubborn, Steve Harrington.

“We won’t have many nights like this again for a while, Eds.”

With the dropping temperatures and the promise of a snowstorm tomorrow, their nightly routine would probably come to a close once they head back inside this night until Spring comes back around.

And so they sit, in their matching rocking chairs, wrapped up in blankets with hot cups of coffee in their hands to keep warm.

Enjoying the quiet little life they’ve made with each other.

Eddie’s boot covered foot lifts up and down, up and down, easing his rocking chair into a gentle rhythm, the slight creaking joining the peaceful sounds of the night.

His hands hold his favorite mug up to his cheek, letting its warmth thaw out the chill sinking into his rosy cheeks, watching Steve stare up at the clear night sky.

Glasses sitting on his perfect nose and a content smile crawling all the way up to his eyes.

“You can really see all the stars tonight,” Steve stares fondly, eyes bouncing around trying to take in every twinkling dot of light.

A mirror of how Eddie looks at him.

He sighs with memories of years ago, when they were younger, less grey and achy.

A time after the upside down, glued to the hip with the entire party before everyone started branching out.

Started to really live their lives the way they were meant to.

The four of them, including Nancy and Robin, ended their day driving out to just lay in the field of windflowers. Lying all in a row, Steve sandwiched Robin and Eddie, Nancy on the other side of Eddie.

Four pairs of eyes staring up at the same night sky, Robin pointing out this constellation and that constellation, the trio humming along as they try to spot them.

Eddie thinking back to his camping days with Wayne with a smile and an almost bittersweet feeling, missing the simplicity of those days often.

It’s peaceful as they lay there together, taking in something that feels so much bigger than them.

Until someone gasps when a star shoots off across the night sky.

Eyes close as they make wishes, wishes maybe they never dream of happening, but hoping.

And when he’s finished, Eddie turns his head slightly toward Steve, watching him squeeze his eyes shut tight with lips moving as he mumbles to himself.

His chest clenching tighter with the hope that maybe Steve will for the same thing as him.

Giving it a better chance of happening.

Those same brown eyes watch him many years later, fondly with thoughts that maybe he did wish the same that day.

Because here they are.

Having silly thoughts about those silly eyepocalypse boyfriends

And a lil sketch of Jon from the beginning of Season 5👁️👁️

Art without text!!