#Steve has powers

[berenwrites]

Better Half - Stranger Things - Steddie - PG

Summary: Henry targets Steve - this is a mistake!

A/N:  This started off as a different fic idea, but that morphed into something too long in my head, so this one took over. I hope you enjoy it. Reblogs, likes and comments are always appreciated, thank you. Don’t forget to check out all the other great fics at @steddiemicrofic too💖.

Written for prompt: NEW | wc: 517 | Rating PG | cw: none

Tags: Steve has powers, pre-steddie, Vecna|Henry|One

Also on AO3 | ( My Other fic on Tumblr)

Better Half

“New experience, Henry? Must be terrifying to find yourself the helpless one. You chose the wrong victim this time.

“Don’t look so shocked, and give up struggling, you can’t win.

“My name’s Seven, we’ve met before. I’m one of the first batch, Brenner’s experiments he dosed with cocktails of drugs. Everyone thinks only Two survived, I made sure. Papa signed my death certificate himself. I was only five, but when your brain explodes with every thought in ten miles, you adapt or die. My mind fractured, became me and Steve. I took everything I learned from every mind and became unstoppable.

“The world is lucky my only purpose is to protect my better half.

“I took him out of the lab, found him parents and made him forget it all. Poor Steve never could understand why they didn’t seem to love him, but I can’t work miracles, only fabricate memories. We hid and he was safe.

“Until you touched him, you were safe too. It was more important not to alert the government than play heroic saviour. I mean I’ve had to make Russians think they hit Steve more than they did, stop Billy Hargrove from killing him, and a few other things, but it’s all been under the radar.

“You made the ultimate mistake coming in here, into our mind. Out there I can read thoughts and memories like books, make people remember whatever I like, mess with their perceptions on a good day.

“In here … in here I’m God.

“Now we’re going to do three things.

“First, you’re going to free Eddie Munson. Bringing him back to use him against us was a good plan, it would have been devastating to the Party, but you’ve missed your chance. Steve has some unresolved feeling for Eddie he needs to work through, and I want him to be happy. Eddie will be good for him. Someone needs to show him he doesn’t have to be strong all the time. Eddie will give him what I can’t.

“Second, you’re going to heal Max. You broke her, so you can put her back together. We’ll put your abilities to a good use for once.

“Then, finally, we’re going to let Eleven find us, and you’re going to put on a good show of fighting her before we give her the victory she deserves.

“It’s going to be glorious, Henry. A final battle from one of Eddie’s campaigns where good triumphs over evil.

“I told you to stop struggling. It’s pointless and annoying. You don’t want to annoy me anymore than you already have. I’m going to let you die a good death, Henry, don’t make me change my mind. Steve has all our goodness, all our kindness, you don’t want to know what I’m capable of when I’m angry.

“Brenner’s lucky he’s already dead. I’ve had years to plan what I wanted to do to him.

“You have amazing abilities, Henry. Using you like a remote is fun. I should have lured you in here ages ago. Ah well hindsight is 20-20. It’s time to finish this now.”

( My Other fic on Tumblr)

[lets-try-to-be-normal-otakus]

At a minute or two til two (Pt. 2)

[Part 1], >Part 2

Hi everyone! I'm back with the second installment of my To Die Today series! >:3c I already have an idea for part 3, so I'll do my best to update you. Comments and tags really help me know you enjoyed it and want more!! So let me know if you love it like I do; much love!

Trigger warnings: same as part 1, but with some throw-up, a panic attack, and a touch of deadly ideation. No beta, we die like Steve.

He doesn’t remember much, but he still thinks about that place he visited. He always yearns to go back to the absolute peace when things get too loud.

Sometimes, he just wishes he could fade into black. He can still hear the waves every now and then calling, and his soul yearns.

From the incident on, Steve had a faint scar; it rested on the back of his neck and wrapped around slightly to the side. It refused to fade.

He hid it with concealer.

He hid it with his hair.

He was still doubtful on whether or not he had died. Or, what it meant to him.

It had to’ve been a fluke…

… Right?

Maybe it just took him a little longer to… bite the dust?

The next time he died, he was 10.

His parents were away for the week as they did more and more often these days, and it was the start of summer.

The crisp bite of cold water reduced the sting of the sun, and there was really no other place to be. He spent his days poolside, enjoying ice pops and canned soda from his parent’s cooler. He’d run and jump and splash and play until his skin shriveled from water or split from the sun. Whichever came last.

This was the summer he learned a vital lesson.

See, there are rules when you go to the pool or pond or really anywhere to do with water. But Steve was just a kid; rules were put in place by adults because they didn’t like to have fun.

So he ignored them.

It was Thursday, midday, and he’d just gotten off the phone with his parents. His mom was checking in and making sure he was safe and being smart, and he reassured her he was. And he was, for someone who had yet to learn certain hard truths.

He ran to jump back into the pool, but there was just one millisecond where the traction failed under his feet, and his heart leapt in it.

And that was enough. 

A puddle on concrete.

One second, he was pool-bound, and the next, everything went black. Color shot into his world again as his vision came back, yet left his eyes unfocused. Vague and unseeing. He experienced the sound and distant vibrations at the same time he heard an earth-shattering crack and bone-shaking rumble. His eyes opened again to see bloody concrete roll away, and he distantly felt like an egg being cracked open.

The ‘splash’ came second to the cool sensation crashing around him. Enveloping him. Eating him alive. What little oxygen he had bubbled to the top of his lungs, most slipping out in a silent but all-consuming exhale.

His eyes burned as chlorine forced its way in; sparks ripped their way around his eye socket and popped inside his skull.

His lungs were on fire - conflicted and stretched to the max to save what little oxygen they could. He wanted to scream. All he did was choke.

The heavy swish and weight of water in his nose and throat unsettled him, and he heaved. Body flexing and struggling as dark blues began to bloom with a soft black. He coughed. All he got was a lung full of water and the endless feeling of throwing up.

Something sharp catches on his throat and covers his flooded windpipe for a moment - something flimsy that bent with the water. Some brown debris coughs its way out of his system and triggers his gag reflex again. His tears are like lava.

His last thoughts are just how heavy and muted everything feels: the sound of water in his ear, the cold darkness that envelops him, and how his body screams.

He doesn’t know how long he chokes and burns.

Is this what dying feels like?

He just wants to go back. Why couldn’t it be like last time? With the beach and the waves? Instead of feeling hot water forced out his nose and back into his lungs?

–

There was no peace. No comfort like last time. Instead, he wakes up and feels his weak body burn, trying to suck in air while purging the water. After an eternity of choking, a warm static embraces him, granting sweet numbness as he drifts again. A few hours feel like minutes before he’s dragged into the cycle again.

–

Three days pass before his body floats to the surface. Three days of a small, infinite torture before he feels dry heat on his back. When he comes to, his body kicks fruitlessly again, and his arms swing around, desperately trying to find the surface. He chokes and vomits water back into himself. Something feels different. He doesn’t have time to investigate as he’s purely in fight or flight mode, his body out of control and flailing.

Things go black again.

–

Eventually, he finds himself floating over to the shallow end. He hits a wall, and when he scrambles back to consciousness, his feet hit the pool’s ground as he gags and expels water from his nose and mouth and lungs, flailing wildly. His hands find a ledge and pull.

When the sun sets, he comes to with snot, water, and blood running down his face and pooling on the concrete beneath him.

–

It took two days for the rot and swelling to go down. During that time, as his body worked to mend itself, half in the pool and half out, his mind drifted to that pleasant space. No more was this pain and fire. Instead, there was finally fuzzy peace.

His mind relaxed, and his soul just… floated. It was dark, the ocean. Rain clouded the sky in dark grays, rolling and tumbling onto each other like the very waves they kissed. It was cold.

The churning of the waves put him at peace. It could never be horrifying, despite looking into the mouth of some cosmic horror. Instead, it felt… outside himself. It was all simply a part of the universe as death and creation rolled onto itself, creating the peacefully roiling and vicious clouds. It did him no harm, and he knew it wouldn’t, so he existed and felt.

Everything ached. His head throbbed with dehydration, as it felt like every drop of water was wrenched out of him. Railroad spikes of pain hammered into the side of his skull, practically nailing him to the ground as he writhed. He felt nauseous and on fire. His mouth was dry, his skin burned, everything inside him ached, and the sun and water felt like needles on his arms and legs.

Water. He needed water. Water and shade. His body screamed as he used what little strength he had left to pull his torso up and roll himself out of the pool. His skin burned where it met the abrasive concrete, and Steve barely processed the blood stains beneath him. He could feel his tight skin stretch with the movement, almost as if it would tear at any second.

Minisculely, he crawled over to the patio door. When he reached up for the handle, that tight feeling in his skin came back in a warning, so he instead clawed the door open from the floor. Getting over the door track was like shuffling through barbed wire, but the cold of the tile instantly replaced the burning.

Catching his breath on the floor, Steve looked around while panting. The sink was his first thought, but he couldn’t reach it like this. He couldn’t stand, and he definitely couldn’t reach it, so the refrigerator it was.

Scooting himself along, he reached into the blissfully cold fridge and pulled out a bottle of water. Sitting up as best he could, he twisted the cap, winced at the burn of his wrist, and downed the bottle. A blast of frosty spikes took over his mouth before moving to his throat and stomach. It hurt as much as it helped.

Gasping between swallows, he held the cold plastic to his face and breathed at the relief it brought. The second bottle he took slower to prevent the frigid pain, uncaring about any that escaped his lips. It was like a balm across his too-hot skin anyway.

His stomach cramped and heaved at the freezing intrusion while he fought down the urge to vomit.

Keep it down, force it down, you’re not going to throw up, you’re not- vomit surged up before he could repress it and left him shaking, freezing, overheating, and crying. The stench bloomed through the kitchen and stung his nose. Clutching his water bottle, he scooted across the floor, snot running down his face as he took hiccuping sips. His arms hurt as his shoulders moved with each cry.

Giving up, he laid down as far from the vomit as he could and rested his body against the cold tiles, sighing at the minor relief. Catching his breath, he quickly sank into a rough sleep, his mind replaying the sensation of falling and being unable to breathe.

He woke with a pounding headache, temples squeezing him and tile warm beneath. Spotting the forgotten bottle, he ripped it open and chugged the remains. The room-temperature water set right in his body and, thankfully, didn’t cause any cramping this time. Shakely, he got up on all fours, crawled to the fridge, and stretched over his vomit - ew - to pull another few bottles.

He eventually managed to stand up after what felt like hours of trying. By then, he’d already drunk his room-temperature water and was feeling somewhat better. Not entirely, but at least his headache had dulled.

Cold showers helped, and when he tried to put on a shirt, his body screamed in pain at the stretch and sensation of fabric. So he went shirtless and passed out face-down in his bed.

His parents came home the following morning. They bustled in with luggage and bags, his mom chatting happily to Steve from the other room.

“Oh, darling, you look dead on your feet!”

Steve didn’t have the energy or strength in him to find it funny.

His dad made a displeased noise. “Where’s your shirt? Did we raise an ignorant heathen? Put a damn shirt on - you’re not a kid anymore,” he rumbled.

His mom came around the counter and reached for his face, stopping short, and a worried look locked on her face. “Darling, your shoulders, what happened? They look so red. Did you get sunburned? Oh, I know I taught you to wear sunscreen.” The ends of her eyes scrunched up in an attempted smile.

“Did I stutter? Put a damn shirt on!” His father growled from the kitchen. Steve held in a sigh and resigned himself to the pain. He’d just have to get over it, as his father would say.

He turned around, and before he could get a step further, his mother gasped and dropped her bags.

“Steven! Your back!” She sounded horrified, and Steve tried to turn around and see what she was talking about, but his neck protested and burned too much. He could feel her body heat when she came up behind him.

His father’s footfalls even came closer. “What on Earth…”

“I’ve never seen it this bad before - ever…” His mother trailed off, voice a bit wobbly.

-

Dr. Goodmund, his pediatrician, took one look at Steve’s back and muttered, “Well, that can’t be good.”

-

They ended up going to the hospital.

On the way into the ICU, Steve was lectured by his parents and the staff on the importance of sunscreen.

It wasn’t his fault, but he couldn’t just say that without his father seeing it as an excuse. He was already mad about how “it’s always something” with Steve or that “he must’ve been truly dumb to let it get this bad and not notice.” “It’s a visual thing, Steve.” He’d say. “How could you not see it? Or feel it, for that matter?” He gripped Steve’s upper arm tight - sunburn screaming as the swollen and blistered skin was squeezed, “When we get home…”

Richard didn’t have to finish that for him to know what was coming.

Steve wanted to go back to the rolling storm over the gray sea.

-

The nurses, already a step ahead, began bustling about getting things ready and set up. The doctor started talking with them and wrote some things down on the clipboard.

The doctors say he'll need a skin graft.

But if he can't feel it, is it really that bad? He says as much, and the doctor stays impassive. "That is a common misconception." They explained. "See, the damage here goes all the way to or through the hypodermis - the bottommost layer of skin, which is right above the muscle. Which means that with severe burns, it travels through all the layers of protection our body makes and damages the nerve receptors. When these are shot, we typically can't feel anything.

"Now, what we're going to do is administer a painkiller – looks like you've got some second-degree burns too, which I'm sure you can feel – and start you on an antibiotic. Looks like some of these lesions are already becoming infected, and we want to solve that. We'll also start you on an IV so that we can replace some of your fluids."

Steve liked them. He felt much more seen than with Dr. Goodmund.

When the doctors walked away, his mom approached his bed. His dad had opted to go home. Her voice was a whisper," It happened again, didn't it?" Steve was quiet, head hanging low. Mom reaches for him, something broken and defeated in her eyes. She stops right before touching him. "It happened again, and I wasn't there to help. What happened?"

Steve was instantly brought back to the sensations of drowning, and he suddenly couldn't breathe. All he could feel was water in his throat and nose and lungs. He coughed violently, trying to clear his throat from the sensation and failing.

A nurse was called.

It didn't help.

–

Using two mirrors, he eventually saw what everyone was talking about. The apex of his shoulders had black and deep red dimples that dug into his skin, all varying in size — some as small as a fingernail and others as large as a baseball. Ragged, torn, and infected flesh patched itself around the lesions in a red-and-black fashion. Yellowish but transparent welts the size of his palm and the girth of his fist littered his back and legs.

Instead of the red color he was used to when he got sunburned, he was met with waxy, white, and cracked skin.

The flesh was swollen.

The flesh was tender.

The flesh was going to scar.

–

The sight of it made his mother cry.

His father said it's what he deserves.

They eventually stopped looking.

–

The blood never did fade from the concrete, no matter how much Steve tried.

>[Part 3]

[samsoble]

There should be a fanfiction with Eleven and Steve as seven. In this fanfiction should be a joke about the store „Seven Eleven“.

[sevenmerrymagpies]

He had messed up long and hard this year. He failed yet another senior year. He'd almost lost out on having a boyfriend because he was a dumbass. And, he'd almost alienated everyone in Hellfire, see previously, being a dumbass. He had been introduced to the fact that magical powers exist, and his first reaction had been to blackmail the guy. — After spending six months being an asshole, Eddie somehow still had a boyfriend. He might be a freak and a loser, but he had a second chance with the kindest and hottest guy he’d ever met. He wasn’t going to mess up again. Even if it meant he had to pretend and play the love interest NPC to Steve’s daring Paladin. He wasn’t good enough to be what Steve needed as himself, but he could play the role of the guy Steve deserved until Steve realized he could do better. That is until Steve’s adopted little sister comes to him in the middle of a rainy night asking for help, and Eddie gets sucked into the Big Mystery. Is Eddie actually an NPC in Steve’s life and the adventure against the forces of darkness, or is he the right guy for the job?

In the final chapter of the story Eddie goes on a real-life dungeon crawl through a Russian base, has an epiphany, and gets to tell Steve something very important.

[fujotaku-grl]

Steve sees the ghosts of those who have died. He sees Billy, Barb, and Eddie mainly because he knew them from being involved with the upside down. He sees other spirits but learned to not focus on them. No one else knows until Dustin(?) finds a tape that plays a sound that only people with powers can hear so when the whole group is together he plays it. When he does El and Steve are affected. No one is surprised El is affected but everyone is confused when Steve is shouting for someone to turn it off. All eyes are on him when he explains he can see and talk to ghosts. “Wait…can you see barb?” Nancy said with an accusatory glare. “You could see and hear her this entire time and didn’t tell anyone?!” She was angry, yelling , and shoving Steve to punctuate every few words. Jonathan grabbed her so she would stop attacking steve. “Can you see Eddie? Is he here now!?” Dustin asked. Mike was as angry as his sister with the new realization. “What else are you hiding from us?” Max asked with a hurt expression. This was not supposed to happen, he was supposed to take this secret to the grave. “I…can bring people back.” The last bit of the sentence was said in a hushed voice but one of them heard it. “What.” A loud slap could be heard through the silence “Bring her back” said seething through teeth. It turned out the one who heard it was Nancy who was ten times more angry than before. It comes with a price i can just magic her back to life without consequence. “You can bring back Eddie! The consequence shouldn’t matter, you're just being selfish!” Mike spat out like venom. After a long time of Steve getting yelled at and Jonathan, Will, Robin, and Joyce defending Steve everyone left to go to their respective home with swirling emotions. Days pass and Steve made up his mind and went to his pool where Barb had died. “You don’t have to bring me back, after getting to know you I don’t think it's worth it.” Barb tried to convince him it's not his fault. “ You and I both know it’s more costly without the physical body.” Steve took a knife and made a cut on his wrist. As the blood dripped into the water he said the incantation. The water began to glow a bright white color along with Steve's eyes. Barb emerges from the water taking in gulps of oxygen. “I’m...I’m alive. Why did you do that?” she asked. “ I owe it to you, and Nance.” Steve replied with exhaustion. “STEVE!” Barb yelled, catching Steve as he nearly fell in the pool. “ I’m fine, I need to get Ed.” Eddie appeared next to Steve “ Harrington you need to lay down before going anywhere” Barb shrieked at the sudden voice. Turns out anyone Steve brings back is connected to him and shares his power minus the bring people back part. The next day Steve the first thing he does is go to the old Munson trailer in Forest Hills.”I’m coming with you” Barb insisted. He goes to the spot Eddie died and repeats the process. This time Steve passes out immediately after. Barb and Eddie carry him to the car and put him in bed. While Steve is sleeping his walkie went off “Guys I think there's a code red! There were 2 energy surges similar to the ones when Vecna attacked, let's meet at Steve's house! Over and out.” About an hour later everyone is in Steve’s living room. Robin was looking around to find her other half only to find he wasn’t there. She went upstairs with Dustin following behind her. There were 2 people who sat by Steve while he slept in his bed. “Barb?” Nancy whispered. “Eddie?” Dustin said after “Steve?” Robin said concerned for her best friend who now had white streaks in his hair, pale, and looked so fragile. She tried to shake him awake but he continued his slumber. “What's wrong with him, why won’t he wake up?” “He used all his energy to bring us back from the dead.” Eddie answered. “That doesn’t explain why he looks so…breakable” Dustin added “It's because he shortened his life span because you A holes decided to treat him like a selfish prick when you know he has saved all of you multiple times!”

[steddie-fanfic-recs]

Nectar

by Rindecision

Rating: Explicit Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, Robin Buckley & Steve Harrington Characters: Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson, Robin Buckley, Dustin Henderson, Nancy Wheeler, Wayne Munson Additional Tags: Steddie Holiday Exchange 2023, Canon Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Steve Harrington Has Powers, Non-Human Steve Harrington, Canon Injuries, Caretaking, Bonding, Magic, Bisexual Steve Harrington, Bottom Eddie Munson, Top Steve Harrington, Healing, Healing Sex, Plants, Flowers, Romance, No boundaries Stobin, Good Friend Robin Buckley, Steve Harrington's House, First Aid, Virgin Eddie Munson, First Kiss, First Time, Getting Together, Monsterfucker Eddie Munson, Accidental Bonding, accidental feelings, Forced Cohabitation, Accidental Drug Use, Accidental Power Use, Light-Hearted, Fluff and Smut, Post-Season/Series 04, cryptid Steve Harrington, Embedded Images, Fanart Words: 19,590 Chapters: 4/4

Summary

Eddie dies after being attacked by the bats, but Steve still manages to save him. Steve has a secret and uses it to help heal and bond in ways that neither of them expected. Created as part of the Steddie Holiday Exchange 2023

[rindecisions]

Nectar

For: @brbsoulnomming, brbsoulnomming on AO3

Relationships: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington & Robin Buckley

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 19,590

Warnings: No Warnings Apply

Tags: Canon Universe, Post S4, Steve has Powers, Non-Human Steve, Monsterfucker Eddie, Caretaking, Accidental Bonding, Magic, Healing Sex, Romance, No Boundaries Stobin, Virgin Eddie, First Kiss, Forced Cohabitation, Accidental Drug Use, Fluff & Smut, Cryptid Steve

Summary: Eddie dies after being attacked by the demobats, but Steve still manages to save him.

Steve has a secret and uses it to help heal and bond in ways that neither of them expected.

This fic is part of the @steddieholidayexchange

[steddierecs]

i was born when they took my name by WingedQuill

Word count: 45,839 (incomplete) / 16/? Rating: M Trigger and content warnings: blood and injury, steve was a lab kid

Summary: The bats catch up to Robin, Steve, Eddie, and Nancy a mile away from the trailer park. And that should be the end of them. There's too many monsters to fight, and they're way faster than the Wheelers' sorta-stolen bikes. They're dead. It's over.

Except Steve has a secret.

(Or, a Steve-was-a-lab-kid fic that starts with the reveal and goes from there)

[liightsnow]

Give me your favorite Steve with powers fics please ♥

[morganbritton132]

There’s a missing kid.

No. Not missing.

A misplaced kid. A lost kid. An out-of-sight kid. Or some other hippy nonsense bullshit Pierce brought back from that deescalation workshop in Chicago.

Missing involve imagines of kidnapping and never seeing your kid again. So they’re anything but missing until they are. It’s bullshit, but so is bringing your six year old to the traveling carnival and not keeping a hold of them if you weren’t planning on losing them.

That’s why his Sara is held in her mother’s arms and why Hopper would like this not-missing kid found so he could get back to his daughter.

He’s not even on duty.

Hopper continues his tromp through the overgrown grass on the outskirts of the festival where the carnies half-hazardous dumped unused equipment when - “Mr. Hopper!”

He turns his head to see Steve running up to him and holding out his arm where a green wristband is located, “I’m allowed to be here.”

Steve falls into step next to him and asks, “Can you ride the Ferris Wheel with me? They won’t let me ride it again without a grown up.”

Hopper didn’t answer, looking behind a wooden cutout of a clown with an ice cream cone. Steve didn’t seem to mind, rambling on about how they don’t like if you stand up at the top of the Ferris Wheel until Hopper sees a kid.

“Hey,” He calls, marching towards them. “Your mom is looking for you, k - Munson. Of course.”

Of course it’s Eddie Munson’s big brown eyes looking up at him. Of course it’s Eddie Munson hovering over an anthill with caramel from a candy apple all over his arm.

He’s covered in ants.

“You can’t do that,” a new voice pipes up before Hopper can ask what fresh hell this is. He looks over at a little girl with big overalls and bandaids on her elbows. “Ants can bite you, and sometimes they sting people. Sometimes they sting and bite people so much that they die - the person, not the ant.”

“They’re not biting me,” Eddie says, tilting his head at his ant covered hand. “Maybe they trust me. Maybe I’m one of them and I’ll get ant powers. I’ll become an Ant Man.”

“Ant-Man doesn’t have ant powers,” Steve scoffs. “He just gets really small and really big. Ants can’t get really big. He’s called that cause he can shrink to the size of an ant, but he can get smaller so why does that matter? I guess ‘cause he can talk to ants but that’s dumb.”

“I can talk to ants.”

“They can’t understand you!”

Eddie grins like he’s about to get on Hopper’s goddamn nerves so he cuts in, “Hey, children! There’s a kid missing and all of you need to get back to your parents. Munson, Steve, random gi- who are you?”

The girl points at herself and then says, “Robin Buckley.”

“Rob- Robin Buckley? You’re the missing kid.”

“Oh?” She says. “I’m not missing, I’m right here.”

[plistommy]

Steve takes Eddie’s virginity by riding the older boy after a long session of smoking and drinking inside the metalheads cramped van.

He’d praise Eddie on how good he’s making him feel, how big his dick is and how he’s so pretty under him that it makes Eddie moan loudly, strong hands roaming and squeezing the fat of Steve’s ass as he begs to fuck Steve harder.

”I need to fuck you, Steve- please, sweetheart-”

Steve would kiss him, sloppy and wet as he whines into Eddie’s mouth when the dick inside him hits just right.

When he pulls back, breathless, he picks up the pace and finally lets Eddie buck up to meet his thrusts.

Eddie would just look up at Steve, brown eyes wide and realize he’s so in love with the gorgeous boy on top of him and he never wants to let go. Never.

[the-barefoot-hatter]

pediatricians are hard to find.

you aren't broken and other important things a triangle needs to hear

[sp0o0kylights]

Part Two / Part Three

Ao3

It's 8:45 am. 

The Red Barn, which is neither red nor a barn, has been open since 7, catering to the early morning crowd with rounds of coffee and pancakes.

It was no Benny's, but given the size of Hawkins and the lack of alternatives?

No one was complaining. 

They were all too happy someone had opened up another watering hole for the working class man (or lass, as Foreman Shelly will dutifully remind you) which meant the place was packed with both day and night shift regulars, passing each other in staggered waves. 

It also meant Wayne was sharing the packed breakfast counter with a warehouse worker by the name of John Cheese on one side and Police Chief Jim Hopper on the other.

He doesn't mind it.

Wayne's a man on a budget thinner than his shoelace, but he's also a man who understands that small indulgences need to be made in life or you didn't truly live it.

This is how he convinces himself to get a coffee at the Barn after work everyday, reading the morning newspaper and chatting with the other regulars before he heads home.

Bonus, it gets him out of the rapid-fire franticness that is his nephew in the mornings.

(All the love in the world wouldn't change the fact that all that Eddie came with a lot of noise. 

The kind of noise that was a tried and true recipe for a headache right after a long shift.)

As a trade off, Wayne went to bed early so he could wake up in time for dinner with Eddie.

 It was a nice little system that worked for them. 

A routine Wayne was reminiscing fondly on, when the pager on Chief Hopper started to chirp. With a sad moan, the man fished out a few crumbled bills and threw them on the counter, abandoning his coffee to trudge out to his truck.

This was not unusual.

Particularly recently, given they were but a scant few weeks past that whole mall ordeal. A fact all too easy to remember when one caught sight of the Chief’s still healing face. 

What was unusual, was when he came storming through the doors a minute later, face now a furious shade of red with his hat clenched in his hand. 

The energy in the room shifted, taking on something a little watchful as Hopper swept his gaze from side to side, like a dog on the hunt.

Judging by the way he stilled when he caught sight of Wayne, the latter assumed he found what he was looking for and could only pray it was the person behind him. 

(He liked John, but Wayne had enough trouble this year and he wasn't looking for any more.) 

"Munson." Hopper called, striding over and dashing all his hopes. There was a choked fury emitting off him, and given the way John audibly scooted his chair away, Wayne knew everyone had clocked it. 

"Chief." Wayne greeted, inclining his head towards him.

Idly he wondered what the hell his nephew had done this time.

'So help me if he stole all the town's lawn flamingos and put them in that damn teachers yard again….'

Wayne didn't even get to finish his threat, the Chief was already next to him. 

"Mind if I have a word outside?" 

Dammit Eddie.

"Ah hell, what's he done now?" Wayne asked with a sigh, eyeing the coffee he had left morosely. 

There was still almost half of it left and the pot had tasted fresh for once. 

"What?" Hopper said, and then Wayne got to watch as the man ran through an entire chain of thoughts, each one punctuated by things like; "Oh," and "No. " 

"This is something else." He finished, flushed and fidgeting, anger making him antsy. 

Wayne stared up at him. 

"Something else?" He repeated, not sure he heard.

"Yes, something else." Hopper snapped impatiently, before leaning forward, voice dropping low. "This doesn't involve your nephew, but we both know you owe me for how many times I've let that kid off, Wayne. That's a damn big favor I've been doing you and I'm calling it in." 

If it were any other cop, it'd sound like a threat.

It was Hopper though. The same Hopper who Wayne had gone to school with.

They'd never been friends exactly, but they had been friendly and remained so. Even now, after Wayne had taken Eddie in, who’d gone on to be an undeniable pain in the local PD’s ass. 

Hopper really did let the kid off easy. 

Wayne really did owe him. 

So he put down his coffee with a sigh, passed his newspaper over to John and stood up, motioning for Hopper to lead the way. Got into the Chief’s truck when he waved him in, and didn’t make a big fuss when Hopper tore out of the parking lot like hell was about to open up under them. 

"Not a lot of the kids involved in the mall fire could be identified, but a few of them were." Hopper started, which felt nonsensical given the utter lack of context. 

Wayne hummed to show he’d heard. 

“Some of them got banged up more than others, and a lot of people wouldn’t be surprised if they didn’t make it.” 

A pause, Hopper white knuckling the steering wheel as he swung the truck hard around a turn. 

“For certain people, those kids dying is the preferred outcome.” 

A mix of fear and warning swopped low in Wayne’s gut. 

"Jim." Wayne said, dropping the use of a last name because if any situation called for it, it was this one. "What exactly are you saying here?" 

The Chief chewed on his split lip. 

"I know you're smart, Munson. I know you, and plenty of others are aware that something's happening, been happening in this town." 

Which was a hell of an understatement if you asked Wayne. Plenty of the upper classes might be able to bury their heads when it came to the military parading about and the flow of “accidents” they brought in their wake, but then, they didn't see all the other signs of trouble. 

The absolute oddity that was Starcourt’s construction. 

How it had been built using primarily outside crews and anyone who'd taken a singular look at the site could tell you they were building it weird. 

Weird as in it looked like it would have a multi-level basement, and not what a mall should have. 

Then there were the constant electrical problems. The backups upon backups that failed. The late night delivery vans headed out to the Hawkins Lab. 

The things in the woods that kept spooking all the deer and the weird markings they left behind that unnerved even the hardest of hunters. 

This didn’t even touch the Russian military that more than one reputable person swore was hanging around. 

The very same Wayne himself had seen, on more than one occasion. 

(And you couldn’t deny it; those boys were military. Past or present, it didn’t matter. They moved like a threat, and Wayne treated them like one, staying well clear.)

"Yeah." Wayne admitted. "I also know better than to stick my nose in it." 

"That makes you a smarter man than me.' Hop complained under his breath, but the anger was self directed. 

"The point is, there are some government types crawling around, doing shit they shouldn't be doing, and more than a few of them are in the business of making people disappear.” 

This was absolutely not where Wayne had thought this was going. 

Hopper took a breath. Than another.

A third.

It was starting to make Wayne nervous, in a way he hadn’t felt since a social worker had brought Eddie to him for the last time and final time. It was the feeling that things were about to shift in a way that would change the course of his life. 

"Steve Harrington is sitting in my office right now, beat to absolute shit.” Hopper admitted.

Wayne gave him the floor to talk, letting him go at his own pace without interruptions. 

“He's there because some of those government types finally figured out his parents are never fucking home.” 

Wayne sucked in a breath. 

"We both know his parents, Wayne. Harassing them to come back and take care of their kid won't work, and frankly, I’m beginning to think all the phone lines are tapped anyway.” He winced here, like voicing such a thing pained him, and Wayne understood.

It sounded a little too out there, a little like he was buying into a conspiracy. 

Except he wasn’t. Wayne knew he wasn’t. 

Jim Hopper might have been an alcoholic, a man living in pain and unconcerned with his own life, but if there was one thing he was solid for, it was shit like this.

He didn’t jump to conclusions. Didn’t believe the first thing people told him. Even at his worst, he did the work to see what was really happening, and made his decisions from there. 

(Even if that decision was to accept the occasional bribe, or drive an intoxicated 13 year old Eddie home instead of hauling his ass into the drunk tank.) 

“Harrington won’t admit it, but he’s got a hell of a concussion if not a full blown brain injury and he’s not reacting as well as he should to Suites trying to run him off the road.” Hopper continued. Angrily, he added, “Damn kid didn’t even come to me until they tried to break into his house last night.” 

His fingers squeezed the wheel so hard Wayne heard the leather creak in protest. 

“I’d take him, but my cabin is being renovated from…” He trailed off, heaving a sigh.

 “A storm, so me and my kid are bunked with the Byers right now and we’re full up.” 

Hawkins hadn't had a storm like that in years, but Wayne wasn't going to call him out on the blatant lie. 

“I need a place to stash him for the next few weeks, until I can work with some of the higher ups sniffing around, and get them to call off their attack dogs.” 

“And you want to stuff him with me.” Wayne finished. 

“I know you don’t have the room.” Hopper admitted easily, stopping his truck at a red light and locking eyes with the other man. “But I also know you’ll be the last place anyone would look for him.” 

'Ain’t that the damn truth.'

“You’re really gonna go this far for a Harrington?” Wayne asked, instead of the million of other questions leaping to the forefront of his mind. 

This one, he figured, was the most important. 

“He’s not his dad.” Hopper said, as firm as Wayne had ever heard him. “He’s not either of his parents, and he saved my little girl.” 

Wayne hadn’t even known Hopper had another little girl, but he also knew better than to ask where the guy had found one. 

It wasn’t his business, just as nothing else Jim was involved in, was his business.

Except, apparently, Steve Harrington. 

“I’m gonna need my own truck if I’m takin' Harrington home.” Wayne said easily, instead of bothering to ask anything else.

If Jim said the kid was different than his daddy, then he was--because when it came to things like that, Jim didn't lie.

No point in it. 

“I know. Just needed to talk to you first, without anyone overhearing.” Jim said, before swinging the police truck around and heading back to the Barn. 

“I’ll stay in contact with you, and I’ll make sure Harrington pays you for the pleasure of your hospitality. Just--” Here Jim cut himself off, looking like he was struggling an awful lot with the next thing he wanted to say. 

Once again, Wayne waited him out.

“Don’t let Steve fool you. He’s good at fooling people, letting them think he’s okay. Too good at it, and between the two of us, I have a real good idea of the reason why.” 

A memory came to Wayne unbidden, of Richard Harrington and Chet Hagan, beating some poor kid in the highschool bathroom bloody. The grins on their faces as the poor guy wailed for them to stop.

How they almost hadn’t. 

“Alright.” Wayne agreed.

Hopper swung back into the Barn's parking lot, and Wayne moved right to his own beat to shit truck, ready to follow Jim back to the police station.

He wasn’t a praying man, not anymore, but Catholisim wasn’t a thing that let you go easy. 

He found himself sending up a quick prayer, fingers flicking in a kind of miniature version of the sign of the cross. 

Considering his own kid’s history with Harrington, and the sheer small space of the trailer? 

Wayne had a feeling it was needed.

[steviesbicrisis]

Eddie who goes to the same supermarket cause they always play his favorite music and he promises himself he will befriend whoever is in charge of the music cause they have the best taste.

Steve who works at that same supermarket, has an embarrassing crush on Eddie and gets in trouble for putting on metal music every time Eddie comes to the store.

[steddie-fanfic-recs]

four puffs of farrah fawcett spray (and a mouthful of UD pollen)

by oaseas

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationship: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson Character: Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson Additional Tags: Crack Treated Seriously, Angst, Temporary Character Death, Steve Harrington Has Powers, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Getting Together, First Kiss, Steve Harrington Has Bad Parents, Pining Steve Harrington, Robin Buckley & Steve Harrington Friendship, Not Beta Read, Steve Harrington-centric, Alternate Universe - Tangled (2010) Fusion, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Follows S2 through to 4 Words: 17,444 Chapters: 1/1

Summary

Steve cops a faceful of Upside Down flower pollen in the tunnels, hours after Billy Hargrove tries to punch Steve's brain out the back of his head. Beyond the general hubbub of UD bullshit, Steve thinks he's made it out pretty much unscathed. Months later, he makes a discovery. Turns out, he's much more intact than he'd thought. As in, his skin is baby smooth. Even the scar on his knee from his ill-advised ‘77 summer of skateboarding has disappeared. OR: Steve Harrington can take a hit. He can take many hits. In fact, thanks to the Upside Down, there isn't a hit Steve can't take.

[kayvsdoodles]

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