#dark!steve Harrington

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

virgin sacrifice

a/n: you guys? hail satan.

summary: you didn’t think in your wildest dreams that Captain and Tennille’s best hits would be blasting over the camp’s speakers while you were running for your life from two nut job serial killers, ones who had already slain what looked like most of the other campers.

warnings: dark!steve harrington x reader x dark!eddie munson, dark content, noncon/dubcon, smut, summer camp au (they are all camp counsellors), slasher au, virgin!reader, very innocent!reader, final girl!reader, established relationship, violence, murder, weapons, blood, devil worship, predator/prey, bondage, knife kink, dirty talk, pussy inspection, oral, fingering, anal

word count: 1389

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

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It was the summer of 1986, right before you were supposed to go off to college and start your real life. It was also the summer when you worked as a counsellor at Camp Nebula, the very summer you fell in love for the first time. The summer when the most popular guy for some reason took notice of you and started calling you his girl. 

Now, he was a tad bit more experienced than you and wasn’t shy to show you in ways that you always snuffed out before they could grow into anything uncouth. That’s not how you’d been raised, to lose your virginity in a summer camp’s tool shed, however gobsmacked he made you feel, you just couldn’t take that step. 

No one had ever looked at you the way that he did, truly listened to you when you spoke, and even stood up for you, like whenever the camp’s freak would say things to you vulgar enough to render you speechless, your knight in shining armour would step in and save the day. 

It was the perfect summer. 

Was. 

Completely perfect right up till the murders began to happen. 

You didn’t think in your wildest dreams that Captain and Tennille’s best hits would be blasting over the camp’s speakers while you were running for your life from two nut job serial killers, ones who had already slain what looked like most of the other campers.

Lungs burning, you sprinted through the dark camp, a flicking lamppost above illuminating the path you raced down, the ground littered with sharp pine needles. 

When you made your way to the dining hall, the rotary phone inside, your plan of salvation, turned out to be just as dead as the summer friendships you’d thought would last a lifetime. 

“There’s nowhere left for you to run, little lamb!” the petrifying roar from just outside the hall’s walls caused you to jump and scurry into the kitchen, though when you did, your gaze should have been directed in front of you and not over your shoulder as you swiftly crashed into a figure. 

A blank mask stared down at you, one of the ones that the kids used for crafts, usually decorating them with an explosion of paint and beads. 

Chuckling softly at the way you stumbled back, he playfully uttered, “boo!” raising his hands up to scare you, retroactively flashing you the blade fast in his grip. Half-obscured eyes stilled glued to you, the killer shouted over his shoulder, “found her!” and held the weapon outstretched to keep you where you were. 

“Oh, good,” another masked murderer appeared as the back door was swung open, “well then let’s get this show on the road!”

“Please don’t kill me!” you cried as the one keeping you cornered grabbed you. 

“Kill you?” one of them laughed, “oh honey, we’re gonna do so much more than just kill you,” before he got out a bundle of rope and gestured to his partner, “get her up on the table.” 

Once they’d forced you down upon the cold steel surface and tied you up, they proceeded to reveal something to you that nearly caused your thumping heart to stop. 

“…Steve?” you scarcely breathed as one of them plucked off his mask and tossed it onto a counter. 

“Surprise,” your summer sweetheart flashed you a smile. 

“But–… I’ve been looking for you everywhere all night, you–… you did this?”

“Well, don’t give him all the credit,” the other one peeled off his mask as well. 

“Eddie?” you shuttered, “b-but you two hate each other.”

“That’s what we had to make you think so that no one would suspect a thing,” the long-haired rebel wiped some of the bloodstains on his blade clean on the hip of his jeans, “no one would ruin our plan.” 

“Y-your plan?”

“Might as well tell her,” Eddie nudged his partner who shifted his grip on the axe heavy in his grasp, “since she has such a big part to play in it.”

“Oh, what the hell, why not,” Steve grinned and pulled over a rickety stool, “you see, there are things, wishes, that both me and Eddie have,” the man you thought you’d loved began to explain, “ambitions that, try as we might, we can’t achieve on our own. So, Eddie here found this old book, this tome, that explained a ritual that could grant us our deepest desires...” he uttered dreamily, “it was really quite simple when it came down to it… first 40 lives and then you.”

“…me?” your voice trembled, “why me? I’m not anyone special, I'm just–”

“Oh no, Y/n, you sweet, sweet dumb girl,” Steve chuckled darkly, “you are the final piece to the puzzle,” he stared directly into your soul, “our perfect little virgin sacrifice.” 

Taking a step closer to your strapped-down form, Eddie’s stare danced down your frame, scrapes and dirt still tainting the uniform you’d freshly washed just this morning. 

“But you know, the funny thing is, our lord and saviour down in hell has a funny and pretty ancient definition of what a virgin is,” he teasingly ran the flat side of his blade up the length of your leg, smiling as you squirmed, “sure, some things are off limits, but not a lot…,” the tip of his knife dipped under your shorts and sliced them in two. With the configuration that they had bound you in, everything was already embarrassingly on show, though even more so now that all of your clothes were cut off your frame. Completely mesmerised as the last shred left your form, Eddie uttered softly, “oh, this is gonna be so much fun.”

“What are you doing?” you struggled against the robes as Steve rose from his seat. 

“It’s a real shame, baby,” his broad hands ran up your inner thigh, “I really did wanna pop your cherry myself, fuck I would have loved that, but I don’t deserve it as much as he does,” his thumbs, creeping up to either side of your core, extended out to wickedly spread you apart, “Satan may get to have your pussy,” you shuttered at the mortifyingly soppy sound that emanated as he briefly ran a finger though your folds, “but this little hole isn’t off limits,” his digit then swept down to draw a feathery circle over your rosebud. 

“Nor this one,” Eddie’s hand found your cheeks in a pinch and forced your lips to pucker, “but we might have to do a bit of convincing in order to be able to play up here,” your body stiffened up as the cold edge of his blade then pressed against your throat, “no teeth, or else we won’t make you feel good, won’t give you a little treat before you help us contact the man downstairs.” 

“How in the fuck do you think I’ll like any of this?” you spat back at him. 

“Uh!” they both laughed and shared a glance before Eddie noted, “I think that might have been the first time I’ve ever heard little miss goody two shoes swear! That’s so cute!”  

“Fuck you,” you wept, “you psycho–, oh!” a moan then ripped through your body and surprised you to the very core.

Glancing down between your legs, you saw that Steve was kissing you down there, his lips latched on to the little pearl that always seemed to throb in his presence. 

“What was that about you not enjoying this?” his sloppy peck detached in an obscene pop, “because you sure are soaked for someone who doesn’t think it feels good to be played with… we’re gonna make you feel good, so good, your virgin ass couldn’t even fucking dream about it…” the sensation of Eddie’s palm snaked down to squeeze your tit, while Steve brought his broad thumb up to bully your glistening clit, grinning at how your untouched hole clenched around nothing for him, “just look at how fucking messy you are for us… fucking leaking all over the place…” a groan then escaped him as one of his digits dipped down to slowly sink into your tight ass, simply testing the waters before the pair of them utterly obliterated you, “fuck… you almost make me wanna keep you forever and just find a different virgin to take your place…”

© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[ameliora-j]

Therapist!steddie x reader smut? (Naive reader) you can choose a storyline :)

𐐪𐑂 it’s twisted tuesday! send in ur requests ᵕ̈

content: smut, bully!eddie, therapist!steve, power imbalance, cnc, unprotected piv, size kink, loss of virginity, innocent!reader, naive!reader, degradation, pussy spanking, orgasm control, DARK CONTENT, THIS IS AN 18+ BLOG MDNI

“do you think that you’re learning, yn?” steve asks. “to forgive eddie, i mean.” he clarifies.

“yes, dr. harrington” you nod, smiling shyly. “i believe that i’ve forgiven him.” you say, looking to the curly-haired man who has a permanent smirk playing on his lips.

��alright then… we’ve got one more test of trust, and then we’ll be done with these forgiveness lessons” he smiles. “eddie, go and sit on the couch, please” he instructs. eddie follows orders quickly, sitting on the couch with his legs spread wide. “remove your panties, yn” steve orders.

you stand from the chair, shimmying your panties down your legs beneath your skirt as you hear eddie working his belt buckle. “today, i want you to sit on his cock. and let him use you as he pleases, okay?” dr. harrington smiles.

“okay” you nod, tucking your hair behind your ear. you turn and see eddie stroking his thick cock. he’s already leaking precum, and the tip is red and angry. you walk over to him, setting your knee on the couch as you move to straddle him.

“face me” steve corrects your positioning. you’re already nodding once more and turning around. eddie holds his cock in his right hand, grabbing your hip with his left to held guide you down on the thick shaft.

you whine as you sit slowly, squirming in slight discomfort at the burning stretch. “eddie…” you gasp around a soft moan as he’s fully bottomed out.

“oh fuck baby…” he groans, his head falling back against the couch. “your little cunt is so tight… are you a virgin, princess?” he teases, reaching to rub gently at your swollen little clit.

“yeah…” you mewl, nodding as your hips buck up against his hand. eddie and steve chuckle as the former kisses across your shoulder.

“that’s too bad…” eddie pouts. “cus ‘m not gonna be gentle” he growls. he takes your hips in a strong hold, holding you upright on his cock and forcing you to be still. “just gonna sit here and use you like my own little fleshlight… and you’re gonna take it like a good girl” he grunts.

“good girl” you moan dumbly as eddie begins moving you on his cock. true to his word, he uses you just like a fleshlight. his hands are gripping your hips tightly, doing all the work as he uses your pussy to massage his dick to an orgasm.

“you’re so fucking tight… perfect for this” he groans, his hips bucking up as he slams you down on his cock. you’re unable to help the loud cacophony of moans spilling over your lips as his cock pounds your gspot. “the perfect slut to use like a toy… i feel you clenching around me bitch” he grunts, slapping your clit roughly. “don’t you dare cum before me.”

“yes, sir!” you shriek, clenching tighter in an attempt to hold off your orgasm. it’s not long before eddie is moaning louder, lifting you on and off of his cock faster.

you feel the muscle twitching inside your cunt, beginning to leak precum as eddie lets out a pretty whine. “i’m gonna cum baby” he breathes in your ear, wrapping a hand around your throat as he pistons his hips into you. “gonna fill this slutty cunt up with my babies. take your panties home and make you leave here dripping with me” he growls.

“please…” you whimper softly, searching for something to hold onto as your body begins to shake with pleasure. “i need to… please…” you whine dumbly as you finally settle on gripping his forearm.

“cum, bitch” he growls, using his free hand to slap your clit once more. “soak my cock while i pump you full of my babies” he growls, fucking you impossibly harder.

you’re unable to stop your screams, tears falling down your face as your hips buck erratically as you squirt on him. eddie’s groans can be heard behind you as he holds you still, fucking you through your orgasm until he presses up against your cervix, spraying his cum directly into your awaiting womb.

you whine softly as you fall back against his chest lazily. “thank you, eddie…” you whisper softly.

“thank you, my little toy” he taunts, patting your clit roughly a few times.

[dark-authorr]

𝗧𝗛𝗥𝗘𝗘 𝗧𝗬𝗣𝗘𝗦 𝗢𝗙 𝗧𝗥𝗢𝗨𝗕𝗟𝗘

pairing: dark!steve harrington x dark!eddie munson x dark!billy hargrove x drunk!reader

request: could you write about Eddie, Steve and Billy having a three some with reader after she gets the jealous? cnc if you’re comfortable - @luckygalaxysuit

warnings: heavy drinking, kiss, trapped, unwanted neck kisses, hair pulling, “kidnapping”, forced oral (male receives), gagging, choking, crying, forced double penetration, ass slapping, forced group sex, etc.

note: send in a bunch of requests for any character of any movie, series, and we will do our best to write about them. ONLY DARK!

like, comment, reblog, and follow us!

———

“You likin’ the party new girl?” Jason asked y/n after walking into his kitchen. “Yes, actually,” Y/n smiled as she poured her drink. “Maybe you should come to them more often,” he smiled back at her as he came up to get his drink.

“Maybe I should,” she couldn’t stop herself from showing teeth. Jason has always been sweet to her. She was surprised when the man invited her, and now he wants to invite her to future parties.

Throughout the night, y/n drank and laughed with Jason. He even took her to the dance floor to dance. She wouldn’t say she loved Jason, but she did love his attention.

“I’ll be right back,” Y/n said, turning to leave until he pulled her back. “Where are you going? The party is just getting started,” Jason smiled down at y/n, making her giggle. She felt like this could all be a dream.

“Just going to use the restroom,” Y/n said with a smile. “Get back soon, babe,” the jock said before placing a soft and slow peck on her lips. Once he pulled away and continued dancing with his group of friends.

Y/n wanted to ask him what that was about, but she decided to stay quiet and take it with her as people watched her walk away.

“How’s your night goin?” Y/n heard a voice as soon as she walked out of the bathroom. Y/n looked to see who it was and saw Steve, her long-time on-and-off friend. Well — Study buddy because his grades were never good.

“Oh, hey, Steve! My nights going well so far, and yours?” She asked as he kicked off the wall he was leaning against. “I bet it is. Didn’t know you and Jason were dating,” Steve couldn’t help but mention.

He and the other two had been watching her all night, each second getting harder to witness as she got closer to Jason by the minute.

“Me and Jason? Oh, no, no, we’re just friends,” y/n said as her heart raised a bit. “Didn’t seem that way, princess,” Steve said, flirting as he always does, but y/n had told him he should stop if nothing was going to happen between the two.

Steve was known for going around and being with any girl he wanted, and she didn’t want to be one of those who were marked by Steve Harrington.

“I swear, we’re just friends, I-I don’t know why he kissed me. Maybe he’s just a little drunk, you know?” Y/n said as Steve got closer, body now pressing her into the bathroom door she had closed.

“Sure you aren’t, babe? Seem a bit out of it, don’t you think?” Steve asked, making her feel a small pain in her chest. The way he talked to her with his tone made her feel uncomfortable.

“So what? I can’t drink?” Y/n asked, getting a bit defensive. “Not when you’re a pretty little thing alone,” one of Steve’s hands gripped y/n’s waist to pull her closer to him.

“What are you talking about- Hey, stop that!” Y/n shouted at Steve who began kissing at her neck. “Harrington, stop!” Y/n tried to sound more serious, but that only made him laugh.

“Oh, shut the fuck up,” Steve grabbed a hand full of y/n’s hair before pulling her to a room. “The boys can come find me. I’ve got some shit to set straight,” Steve said as he threw y/n into the room and locked the door.

“Steve, what the fuck is wrong with you? Like serious, are you-“ Y/n stood up and yelled at the man but was cut off by him forcing her back down to her knees.

“You know what’s wrong with me? What’s wrong is that you rejected me, but got your legs all open for Jason. A jock!” Steve was pissed, and she was soon going to find out how pissed he was.

“I’m sorry, but you and Jason are two different-“ y/n tried speaking but he yelled at her, telling her to shut up before he got angry. “There’s no excuse for it, y/n. Not one, and you’re gonna sit there and fuckin’ apologies to me,”

Y/n hoped Steve would calm down, but she noticed there was no hope for that when he reached into his pants, pulling his cock out in seconds.

“Steve, no!” Y/n slapped at the legs and stomach, but that didn’t phase him. “Stop movin, y/n,” Steve times came off warning, but she continued to fight.

Sadly, she wasn’t a match for Steve. The man forced his cock down her throat instantly, causing her to gag and cry onto his shaft.

“So damn pretty when you’re like this. If only you weren’t giving me a hard time,” Steve said through his teeth as he snapped his hips, fucking her face so hard, she could barely focus on his face.

“Always prayed for you to go down ok me during study time, but you were so fucking clueless. I even stripped and stayed in my boxers. I was fuckin’ hard, but all you thought was that I was trying to get comfortable. Dumb fucking slut,”

Y/n felt bad for the way she led Steve on, but she could’ve sworn he didn’t even want her.

“Then you got me watching Jason down your throat? Are you fucking serious!?” Steve’s free hand grabbed the side of her head so he could use both of his hands to pull her into his hard thrusts.

“Steve, where the fuck are you!?” Billy yelled in the hallway. “Harrington, I think she’s gone, man. C’mon, we gotta leave to find her,” Eddie said, knocking on every door.

The two had thought he might’ve taken another girl to a room after seeing y/n with Jason, but in actuality, that other girl was y/n.

“In here!” Steve shouted, telling them to come and see this view. “And you won’t believe you I’ve got with me,” Steve said as he kept his cock deep in y/n’s mouth.

“God, don’t tell me it’s Nancy. We don’t fucking care,” Billy said, always annoyed as they stood in front of the door, not wanting to meet eyes with some girl they didn’t care for.

“Want me to give you a hint?” Steve asked before he pulled y/n off of his cock. “Steve, please stop this. Please-“ y/n tried speaking quickly before he pushed back into her mouth. The gag noises sent Billy and Eddie to kick open the door.

“No way!” Billy said as Eddie got up front to the ground he fell on. “Are you serious? Before me!?” Eddie said as he closed the door behind him and tried to lock it, but the lock was broken.

“Nor how I’d like it, but it’ll do,” Steve said, making the boys lift their eyebrows u til they realized her makeup streaming down her face.

“Dude-“ Eddie cut himself off, wanting to confront him, but why would he? Y/n looked the best she’s ever had. Having Steve in her mouth as she cried, made him feel a type of way.

Billy on the other hand couldn’t care at all. All he wanted was a bite of her.

“Don’t worry, princess, I’m close,” Steve assured y/n who prayed this was a dream, but if it was, her throat wouldn’t be hurting so much. This was a live nightmare.

“Let’s get this shit off,” Billy dropped to his knees behind the girl before he ripped her dress apart. The man was strong, and that fabric never stood a chance against him.

“Tits looks a-fucking-mazing,” Eddie said as he got himself undressed, every concern being thrown out of the window. She looked too damn good to pass on.

“Mhm, they sure in the hell are,” Steve said as his thrusts stuttered a bit. “Oh shit,” Eddie laughed as Steve’s eyes shut tight. Y/n pushed at the man’s lower stomach, hoping to get away, but she instantly stopped as she held his liquid shoot down her throat.

Steve pushed y/n off of him after he couldn’t give anymore. She was instantly grabbed by Billy and carried to the nearest bed. After she was thrown down, she felt hands all over her. More than two.

“Stop it!” Y/n tried pushing Eddie and Billy away from her, but they listened or reacted. All they did was put themselves in a position they’d feel most comfortable in.

Y/n was now on top of the two, legs spread on both sides of Billy as Eddie stood behind her. “Don’t get drunk again, princess. Shit like this might not happen to you, then,” Eddie said as he gripped her panties off.

“Please, guys, stop this. I-I don’t- I don’t want this,” she begged the two. Billy rubbed his spot on his cock as she spoke, not caring about anything she had to say. She understood that after he forced himself through her cunt without wanting.

Y/n cried out in pain and pleasure. The knot in her stomach had already built in the lower part of her stomach.

“You’re tight for a nappy bitch,” Billy snapped his hips up as Eddie tried his best to coat his cock with as much cum as he could. He knew this wouldn’t be pretty for her, but he’s always wanted to eat or fuck her ass, and tonight, it was right in front of him. She was begging for it.

“Maybe I should’ve fucked her to hear that voice,” Steve said as he walked over to the bed. Y/n looked away from the man, wanting nothing to do with him, and he knew that. That’s why he rubbed the top of her head.

“Maybe if you weren’t so clueless, we could’ve done this a different way, y/n. If you think about it, this is all fault,” y/n hadn’t noticed how shitty Steve really was until tonight.

“Really getting it all out, huh?” Eddie said as he rubbed some spit along her upper hole. “Yeah — There’s no other way to put this situation,” Steve said, making new tears fill y/n’s eyes.

“Don’t worry, baby — Once I get in you, you’ll forget about his rude little words,” Eddie said as he pushed at y/n’s hole, making her pucker instantly. “N-No,” she said low, hoping he wasn’t doing what she was thinking.

“Ah huh, now relax so I can come in,” Eddie said, hand spreading her ass cheek as the other held his cock in place. “Eddie, no!” Y/n tried moving away, but the more she moved, the more Billy’s thrust under her made her closer to cumming, and she didn’t want to.

“Stop fuckin’ moving, y/n. Fuck,” Eddie grew impatient. Y/n went to cuss at the man or yell but she was cut off by a cry. Her head fell forward as Eddie broke through her upper walls.

“There we go,” Eddie continued pushing into the tightest hole he could fuck. “That’s it, just relax, baby. Relax, and I’ll fill you up in no time,” y/n cried at his words, knowing if they weren’t scared to do this to her, they weren’t scared to fill her.

“P-Please,” was all y/n could let out as her body went slack on top of Billy. “Good girls gonna get filled tonight, that right. Maybe more than once if she keeps squeezing me like this,” Billy said, and before she knew it, she released all over the man.

“Fuck, y/n, look at you!” Steve laughed as Eddie’s hand came down on her ass. “Double penetration is your thing, huh?” Eddie asked, earning a weak head shake and whine from her.

“Oh? Pretty girl hasn’t done any of this yet, huh? Guess we’re her first,” Eddie said as he watched his cock slip in and out of her hole that kept sucking him right back in. “And last,” Billy assured.

[wishing-on-a-staranise]

Kiss it away, honey.

(s.h. x reader)

from the river to the sea. (get in your daily clicks, read about it, donate if you can.)

summary: you have a perfect and loving boyfriend, and everything should be great but something is just not right.

word count: 6.7k

warnings: use of y/n, no pronouns used (gn!reader), use of pet names (honey, etc), codependency, dark themes, a new flavor of jealousy, horror (spookies and scawies), gore, murder

a/n: yall remember when i was yapping about clones and all that? yeah. I went a lil feral while writing this lmao✌️🤪

another banger by @procrastinationprincesses and I on tumblr dot com. Thank her for listening to me babble on and just helping me sift through the different routes this could go and also being what is basically my proofreader

i might write a part two of this. do not ask me when.

masterlist

You haven’t changed out of your work clothes yet, staring at the phone on the wall. 

It was silent now but it had rung, blaring, louder than you'd ever heard it before. Five times it had rung.

5 calls– 5 missed calls. Unknown number. No voicemail.

You hadn't picked up. You had just stared, you weren’t sure why– the ringing scared you. you weren't sure why but every fiber in your being had coloured you stuck– immovable even if you wanted to do otherwise.

Now it had stopped, empty as vacuum, dead quiet left in the wake of those shrill rings.

And just when you were about to let out a sigh of relief, just when you thought you could finally get to changing out of your work clothes, it started ringing again, your temples hurt from its shrill notes. 

Your nostrils flared, you will not cower, no, you huff of frustration before stomping towards the phone. Its red plastic is just as bright as it had been when you had first gotten it with Steve.

It's probably just a prank call. It's a prank call. A stupid kid doing a stupid prank call. Why the hell is your heartbeat so loud? 

You pick up the receiver, gripping it tight, ready to give the prank caller a piece of your mind.

Hello? Hey you stupid shithole, find something better to do with your stupid, pathetic life, why dont ya’? Good fucking night.

“He– hello?”, your voice comes out nowhere near as fierce as you had wanted it to be.

The line is silent for a second or two. But then you hear a gasp and then some rustling, crackle. You strain your ears, the sounds seemingly impossible to decipher, “hello, who– who is this?”

You think you hear muffled crying, after a few seconds they finally speak up, “y/n”, their voice is of a woman's. “y/n–” is all they choke out before breaking out into a sob. She says your name as if she hasn't said it in a long while, as if she can't believe she’s saying it. And you don’t know why but you feel your eyes sting. You press the receiver closer to your ears, the plastic creaks under your grip. you think you recognise her. The realisation hits you that you do. She sounds familiar.

“y/n, my baby where–” you hear a click, followed by beep beep beep beep, indicating that the call has been disconnected. This time you blink, a tear finally trickles down your cheek. You stare at the receiver, the beeping barely audible. You take in a deep breath, and dial the number again, waiting for the ring or the woman’s voice.

The ring never comes, her voice never comes. Invalid number.

You stare at it. If you were to look any harder, you think the plastic would melt. Too many thoughts were running through your head. And why the hell are you crying?

You hear the jingle of keys followed by the sound of the door opening. You tear your burning gaze away from the phone to the clock. 7:08 p.m. 

“Steve?”

“Yeah!” he answers back immediately, you hear the door shut, the keys in his hand jingle again followed by the clink of them landing in the ceramic ashtray-turned-bowl next to the door where you keep your keys. 

Any other day you would have walked to him, and even if he’d be in the middle of taking his shoes off he’d stop, give you a loving smile, hold his arms up, ready to engulf you into a hug. Any other day, you would have wrapped your arms around his torso, kissed his shoulder before burying your nose into his neck. 

He is the only one who could ever fix you, everyday you come from work, bags under your eyes, tired to your bones and everyday he comes and puts you all back together as if it was the easiest thing to do, as if he was made for it. And you want to go to him so bad. Any other day, you would have. But today doesn't seem like any other day. 

“Hey honey”, he finally comes around the corner and he gives you that smile you love being on the receiving end of, all lazy and adorning, “haven't changed out yet?” 

You look back down at yourself, and you see that you had still been stuck, body still facing the wall where the phone hung. you indeed haven't changed out yet. You barely shake your head before his brows scrunch up, “You okay? Your eyes look all red”

You blink before shaking your head, “Uh, yeah, yeah. I’ll go ch–”

Ring-ring. Ring-ring.

What you were saying is left abandoned, your head snaps towards where the phone is. 

“I’ll get it. You go change,” Steve tells you, not noticing your immediate panic. As he ambles to the phone, you slowly shuffle away– moving towards the bathroom, making sure to listen in on the conversation. “Hello?” you hear him speak into the receiver, he pauses for a second and so do you in your tracks, “..oh hey, Henderson'', you breathe out in relief at hearing the familiar name, “Yeah, yep, doing good. How’s the new place treatin’ ya?”

The audibility of his words lessens as you continue on your way to the bathroom. In the small, tiled room, your own breathing echoes, it engulfs you. you immediately regret not just changing in your room because you can't hear Steve’s voice anymore. But you have already locked the door. You weren’t sure why you did– maybe it was your uneasiness and apprehension but normally you never lock the door because your ever clingy Steve loves joining you in, majority of the time there is nothing sexual about it. Most of the time he just stands there by the door, that same adorning smile on his lips.

When you step out of your jeans, it rings in your brain, again and again. The piercing ringing of the phone, the woman’s voice. You know that voice. You know that voice. You know that woman, you are certain. It is like its on the tip of your tongue, like it is obscured behind a frosted glass, like an itch you can’t scratch. 

A knock on the bathroom door breaks you out of your thoughts, “uh honey?” the voice comes muffled through the wood, “Are you done? Need to take a piss.”

“Yeah, just–” you quickly hop into your shorts, balling up your dirty clothes and tossy them into the laundry basket before unlocking the door. 

And he is there, that smile blooms across his face, “there you are”, and then his lips are on yours, his wide palm comes to hold your face, thumb rubbing softly at your cheeks— he’s a tactile being, your boyfriend, loves holding your face, loves holding you, touching you anywhere. 

When his fingers burrow into your hair behind your ear, you somehow manage to breathe out between the deepening kisses, “Thought you had to take a piss”

“Don't bring up pissing when I’m kissing you”

“Oh, but its okay when you wanna hold my hand while pooping?” He once told you he’d hold your hand while pooping if you’d let him– he had been absolutely drunk, maybe high off weed– inebriated, really and didn't remember saying it the next day. you love to tease him about it. he groans at the mention.

“I was high”, he whines, embarrassed,  “I told you I didn't mean it.”

“Drunk words… sober thoughts, honey.”

“You said it was endearing”

“It is endearing but still a weird thing to say”, you laugh all toothy and cute.

“Whatever, I gotta piss”, he mumbles trying his best to hide his smile before moving you by your shoulders to swap places with you so it’s him who is in the bathroom. He shuts the door, the sound of the lock clicking never reaches your ears.

You’re left alone with your thoughts again, and your smile fades away– you’re anxious, you know that much. You’re not so sure of what exactly. You plop down on the edge of the bed, leg bouncing restlessly, finger tracing over the pattern of the sheets. The pillows and comforter are set up perfectly for the night– every morning Steve sets the bed while you shower knowing you always get frustrated with the task. 

Your back sinks into the mattress, you breathe out, deep and slow, eyes closing on their own accord. You almost fall asleep for a second, but the bathroom door clicks open. A few seconds later, the bed dips beside you, the fabric rustles, “tired?” the question is followed by a groan. When you peak a look, you find him stretching out his arms beside you.

“Absolutely”, you answer.

“Yeah, me too,” he sighs out.

“We still have to make food.”

He lets a frustrated groan tumble from his lips, “can't we just have mac and cheese today?”

…

The night goes by in a breeze, not a lot of talking. 

The love is still there though, in the way that Steve holds the corner of the open cabinet door to make sure your head doesn't hit it, in the way he lets you sit on the countertop while waiting for the water to boil over, in the way you stare at him when you think he isn't looking, in the way you pull his hand over your lap and massage the tight muscles of his palm while he stirs the pot with his other hand. 

You put on his favourite show when he plates the food, he makes sure to put some chives on your plate to make it look a little more pretty for you. You watch the show in silence, eating under the flickering light of the tv. You let it play in the background while you wash the dishes, it is Steve who watches you this time, his head resting against the cabinets behind him. and he thinks he could watch you all day. Something about doing the most mundane things with you makes him feel all warm and lovely. He is sure that past anything grand and dramatic, its the everyday things that show love. He hopes in every world, he gets to hold you and love you. He thinks he'll give it all up just to be with you, just to watch you wash dishes, just to have you sit beside him while he cooks.

When the dishes are done, he makes sure the doors are locked, you turn off the lights and the TV. Before you know it you’re in bed, and before you know it, you’re already falling asleep. 

…

At first you weren’t sure why you were awake. Then you hear shuffling behind you, and you barely even roll over when there is a warm hand on your hip, “honey,” he whispers– voice all scratchy and low that makes you melt, you hum for a response, “I’m sorry honey, wake up please”, his tone is slightly rushed, you’re a bit more awake at that. 

Barely did you sit up when he engulfs you in a tight hug. You hold him back without a thought or hesitation. Your hand rubs his back, his arms tighten around you, nose nudging into your neck, his skin warm. your fingers find their place in his messy head of hair like they always do, you card through the strands. He pulls you closer, and then you're in his lap. He holds you like a boy holds his favourite toy– like he doesn't plan on letting go.

“Want some water?” After some time you ask softly. You feel him nod into the junction of your neck.

He loosens his hold on you enough for you to climb out of his lap. Not saying a word, he follows you to the kitchen, and he stays close when you pour him a glass. He is mid-gulp when you ask, “nightmare?”

He nods once, the rogue strands on his forehead bouncing with the movement, and downs the water before saying a soft ‘yeah’.You take the glass from his hands and place it in the sink, and lead him back to bed. 

You brush aside his disheveled hair. You tuck yourself into his side, an arm around him, “wanna talk about it?” you ask softly, fringernails scratching his faint stubble.

In the dim of the room, you see his adam's apple bob. Apparently, he does want to talk about it, because he nods– the movement barely noticeable but there. You put your head back on his chest and you wait patiently, trying your best not to fall back to slumber.

It takes him a while before he starts, “You were…”  his hand moves to hold yours, “you were sick–in the hospital, these wires and tubes attached to you. Y-You had been there for months. You were sick and you wouldn't talk to me, wouldn't even look at me. And– and…. Then the– the damn heart monitor–”

“Honey��” 

His words are frantic and uneven, “I didnt– I didnt know what to do after. I didn’t–”

“Steve—” you hold his face to make him look at you, “I'm here.”

He licks his lips, then swallows, nodding. he pushes his face forward so your foreheads are touching. “I know", his nose is hot against yours, "it was still awful.”

You both lay that way for a while. Your thumb brushing against his red cheek, he sniffles a couple times. you hate seeing him this way, with his lashes clumped together, his beautiful eyes all red. The moisture glistening under his eyes doesn't let you fawn over his freckles like you'd normally wish to.

When his skin is a little less warm, and his heartbeat calmer beneath your fingertips, you kiss him. Your hand snakes up to hold his face. Fingers, softly rubbing over the spot behind his ear that makes him melt. You kiss him all slow and purposefully, so he knows that he has all the time in the world.

When you pull away, he murmurs, “Can we go back to sleep?” he pulls you closer, face burying into your neck, warm puffs of breath against your collarbones.

You land a quick kiss on his eyebrow before resting your chin above his head, “‘course”

...

You wake up to the alarm clock on Steve’s side of the bed. He turns off the thing before rolling around in your arms onto his back and then turning his head to face you. “Hi”, he smiles that way again and you do the same, sleepy as ever.

“Hi”, you say still half asleep– you ended up not getting a lot of sleep last night. Thankfully you had the day off today, so you plan on being unproductive and sleeping it away.

He stretches, a yawn escaping him, “Jesus, I so don't wanna go to work today”, your boyfriend laments.

You hum, “then don't go” you propose, eyes still closed, “We can both have a day off”

He turns his body so it faces you, leaning on his elbow. His hand moves to your waist before massaging the love handle there “hmm, tempting. I can't though”

“No fun”, you mumble groggily.

“Hey, don't fall asleep on me”, he brushes the hair that falls on your face with the back of his hand.

"But ‘m sleepy", you mumble into the pillow.

"Aw, don't worry, I will kiss it away, honey." He leans down, a smirk painted across his features. His soft lips land on your cheeks first, then one on your nose, they follow a trail that leads to your lips.

You hide your face in the pillow before your lips could meet though, “No, No kissing!” you giggle, holding up your palm to his face, effectively blocking his attacks, “no kissing before brushing your teeth!"

“You're no fun”, he rolls out of the twist of sheets. He stretches his arms, the muscles rippling beneath the skin– he's trying to entice you, seduce you. and if you weren't so damn sleepy, you would have climbed him up like a koala. He gets up to go to the bathroom. When he notices that you haven't moved, he pulls you by your ankle. You let out a surprised shriek that transforms into giggles when you feel his fingers creeping up your torso– tickling you. ”Here comes the tickle monster!” 

A fit of giggles erupts from your throat, "What are you–", your question gets interrupted by your own laughs.

"The tickle monster will not relent unless you wake up!"

“No! Okay, okay, I'm awake! Steve! I am awake!”

The two of you share the cramped space of the bathroom. It is small, but its the best you could afford. So when you brush your teeth together, you try to relish it when your elbows bump. And when you're done, he kisses you as if he waited ages. 

By now, you're a bit more awake so you decide to get his breakfast ready while he takes a shower. It's simple enough, waffles with banana and some coffee. When he comes back out, he kisses you again when he sees you at the stove, this time on the crown of your head.

When he is getting his keys to leave, he gives you another peck, “drive safe", you murmur against his lips..

“I will. You get some sleep, yeah?” you hum and nod in response. You both bid your goodbyes before he turns to leave.

You decide to eat the leftover waffles and clean up a little before returning to your bed. You make yourself a plate with the bananas neatly cut and placed beside the waffles. You drizzle maple syrup, and then start eating the sickly sweet breakfast, skipping the coffee. While you're pouring yourself a second helping of the maple syrup, the expiration date on the bottle catches your eye. expired more than a year ago. ew. 

Your face scrunches in disgust before immediately throwing it in the trash. And you wonder how the hell either of you hadn't gotten food poisoning yet. then it hits you, from what you remember you bought that bottle only a couple months ago. Did you buy an already expired one?

You open the fridge, the condiments and bottles staring at you. One by one, you check each and every one; ketchup, expired. Hot sauce, expired. Whipped cream, chocolate sauce, milk– expired, expired, expired. 

What the fuck?

You throw it all out and make a point to call Steve later to buy everything as he often calls to ask if you had to get something from the store. And that makes you wonder, when was the last time you actually told him he needed to get something?

You try not to think too much about it. Honestly, you don't know what to make of it, so you decide to go back to sleep.

…

You hear your name. Its faint. It echoes. Like a whisper in a church.

“y/n”, you know that voice. “I– I know you’re there, y/n”, the woman says, all shaky but sure. “y/n”, she repeats. Its that voice… again. 

Who are you?

“Its me, y/n! Its me!” she exclaims as if that would make you remember.

I don't ... understand.

“Baby, just tell me where you are– I'll find you.”

I’m home.

“Home? No– no baby, you’re not. You haven't been home—” her voice gets cut off. It becomes too loud. You feel as if the veins in your temple are going to explode. Its too loud to even tell what it is you’re hearing. Its a static like a radio or a TV, or maybe its wind, maybe its cars, maybe its screams. You think you hear sirens– you wonder if they’re the police or an ambulance. You hear your own breathing, your own heartbeat. Its deafening. And beneath it all, you hear….. Ringing.

Ring-ring. Ring-ring. 

Your eyes fling open and you see your ceiling, you smell the faded mixture of your perfume and Steve's cologne. You’re in your bed. You still hear the ringing. The phone.

You are up in a second. Rushing towards the origin of the sound. When you’re there, you dont wait a second, the plastic is already to your ear.

“Hell– hello?” it comes out all out of breath and broken.

“Honey, you’re– you okay?” its not the voice of that woman.

“...Steve?”

“Who else?”, he chuckles, “you okay?”

“Uh– yeah,”you clear your throat, “I was um– sleeping. I think I just had a dream..” your hand creeps up to the back of your neck, scratching there to try to alleviate a little bit of the ache.

“Oh, well okay sleepy. I just wanted to check if you need me to buy anything? Like, groceries or whatever on my way back.” you give him the entire list of everything you wanted him to get. You would've talked more if Steve hadn't been interrupted by a customer. Nevertheless, you said your 'I love you's and the call ended.

Your heart is still loud in your ears but the ache has dulled down for the most part.

that voice. that woman. 

Its me. 

I’ll find you. 

You haven't been home.

"Home..", you say out loud to yourself. Home.

...

Hours have passed. you think you’re losing your mind because you have turned the apartment upside down. you're surrounded by boxes, most of them filled with normal things, your tattered rollerskates, shoes, old clothes. Most of it was normal, except one.

One unlabeled box you found in the corner of your closet. You haven't touched that box in ages, not since your fallout with your family, lying out of sight and out of mind. It didn't have a lot, all packed in a hurry. things you'd had in your room. picture frames, some books, clothes, papers.

You pick up a frame. The picture was from when you were a twelve-year-old. Wearing what were your favourite clothes back then, your hair in a manner that made you feel a little sorry. You're so different now, yet somehow its still you. There's your older sister, her braces glimmering under the flash of the old camera– her smile wide. Your dad, who doesn't ever know how to pose in pictures. Your mom, she holds you and your sister by your shoulders, a soft smile on her lips, her makeup done perfectly. Another picture from your high school. Another of you with your sister and cousins. 

You pull out the books, the pages are slightly yellowed and they have an earthy smell to them that you love. Pages you don't remember reading, dog-eared and written in.

Then there's the papers– some doodles, some notes, a few maps, some scraps and then.... a file. the file that has your name written on it. And when you open it; medical papers. medical bills. They are a little more than a year old. This wasn't a small stay apparently. From what you can tell from the dates on the bills, it lasted months. You don't remember going to the hospital.

Okay, what the actual fuck?

You find yourself reading through all the details of the paper on the floor of your closet.

months. you had been there for months. Steve's dream.

The entire time, you read and re-read the papers. Why don't you remember any of this? Why does Steve not remember any of this? Maybe he does, he had that dream after all, right? Why are there no discharge papers?

Hours pass. It's maddening, how slow the time passes. Its absolutely maddening. What the fuck does it mean that you haven't been home? You are home. and who the fuck was that woman?

You look through the box again, its contents scattered around you by now. The photos. Your family. Your parents. You miss them. You haven't seen them in so long...

Some broken memories have come to you. You had left– run away. You don't remember why. Then you met Steve when you were stopping by in Hawkins for a few months. You fell in love so quickly. Then one day, you asked if he wanted to run away with you. He said yes and you both left Hawkins and came here.

You don't remember much after that.

Wait, where is hawkins? and why did you go there?

...

It is 7 p.m. and you are pretty sure you have lost your mind. Why isn't Steve home yet? You need Steve. He's the only one who could ever fix you. And now, you need him to fix you again. You need him to fix this, to make some sense of this.

You are sitting by the door, eyes fixated on the hands of the clock.

7:01, nothing. Your arms fidget.

7:02, nothing. Your leg bounces.

7:03, 7:04, 7:05, 7:06, 7:07; nothing, nothing, nothing.

Then, 7:08 p.m., rattle of keys and the sound of the door being closed. Steve. Steve is home. Steve.

You're up on your feet instantly, Steve comes in holding a bag of groceries in one hand and his keys in the other, “I was so worried about you!” you say all hysterical.

“Worried, why?" he says, almost chuckling, but his brows furrow before he looks down at his wristwatch, shaking his head,"I don't think I’m late.” He leans in to land a kiss on your lips, but before he could do so, you turn your head away, “whats– whats wrong?”

“Can I ask you something?” you wrap your arms around your torso to somehow collect your thoughts a little better. 

"Sure", he assures before moving to put the grocery bag on the beige kitchen counter. 

You follow behind him with hurried steps, "When did we buy groceries before this?"

He starts taking out the groceries, "um.. I don't–” he pauses, looking up as if trying to remember himself, “last month probably?" Confusion paints his face, "why?"

"All the stuff in our fridge had gone bad ages ago."

"What?"

“Have you talked to your friends recently? Where are they?” All your attempts to collect your thoughts are all for nought as questions come tumbling out of your lips and you don't even wait for Steve to give a response.

“Honey, why are you–”

“Okay, okay– what about that nightmare you had?”

“Nightmare?” he echoes, brows scrunching together as if he had no idea what you were talking about, “what nightmare?” he asks like he hadn't cried in your arms the previous night.

“Last night! You had a nightmare that I was in a hospital and– and then I was looking through our closet and I find these medical bills–

“Woah, honey. I didn’t have a nightmare. I think I'd remember something like that.. And– what bills?”

Your feet are moving before he even finishes his sentence, you grab the bundle of papers, you show him everything. And he just... stares at them. After some time, all that comes out of his mouth is a “what the fuck...” under his breath.

“I don't understand Steve, I don't remember, you don't remember. And there was this call yesterday–”

“Call? what– from who?”

“From– “ you pause, trying to remember, “ I– I dont…” from who? And then you feel everything you had recalled leaving you. Who called you? What was Steve's nightmare? 

“I don't remember!" you exclaim, frustrated, "why do– I'm so– I'm scared Steve. I’m–”

“Hey, it's okay. you have me honey, you have me”, he holds you by your shoulders, to provide you some semblance of comfort, "we'll figure something out.”

“Steve….”, you mumble, tears starting to collect on your lash line, “something's not right Steve…”

“Its okay..”

“No, no– I dont– I keep forgetting stuff. Why don't I remember anything?”

“Hey, honey—”

“And whatever I do remember; none of it makes sense– nothing makes sense!"

“Its okay–”

“Do not tell me to breathe–”, “breathe for me–” you warn him the exact same time he says it.

You have lost it. You have lost your mind. Eyes wide, you ask, “Why do I already know what you’re going to say? How is that– “

“Hey, hey look at me”, he holds your face in his warm palms, “Breathe for me”, he instructs, “please honey.”

“Steve”, you pull his hands away from your face not because you don't want him to hold you. You do, you want him to hold you forever, but dammit, you feel like you’re going crazy, “where did we meet?”

“Honey–”

“Where did we meet?”

“Family video! We met in Family Video! You just came in one day and asked if I could help you pick out a movie to lift your mood up”

“Where is family video? Like, what town? Wh– what state?”

“..Hawkins, Indiana”

“Steve.. There's no town named Hawkins in Indiana”

“Of course ther–”

“No– no. You can look in a map steve. There was a map in one of those boxes. No town named Hawkins. And then– those papers...” you gesture towards the papers in his hand. You stand there, impatiently so, as he scans over the papers once again. For a split second, you think you see a tinge of recognition in his eyes.

“What does it mean, Steve? Then your dream last night–”, he hands you the papers before turning towards the door.

“Steve, hey, steve!” He heads towards the apartment door. “Steve, come back here!” he doesn't stop, doesn't even spare a glance, his movement robotic. Your voice gets louder, more authoritative, angry “Steve! Come back here right the hell now.”

He doesn't stop, not for his keys, not to tie his shoes. Not for you. Tears cloud your vision and your words come out all desperate and weak, “Steve please! Please don't leave me..”

The door slams shut. Its loud, the silence after it. 

“No..” you whimper to yourself. Tears, finally streaming down your face.

He'll come back, you know he'll come back, sooner or later. He’ll come back to you. Steve wouldn't leave you. He couldn't.

You wait by the door. hours pass. You fall asleep waiting for him.

…

You wake up to the smell of something sweet in the air. When you open your eyes, you’re on the couch. But you don't have time to think about whether your neck will hurt for the rest of the day because Steve is there, standing over the stove– his back facing you. 

“Steve?” your voice comes out croaky.

“Y’wake baby?” he turns to take a glance at you. The furrow between his brows you saw the previous night gone. He smiles softly when you nod dumbly at the rhetorical question, “Well brush your teeth I’m making pancakes”

“Steve..” 

He notices that you don’t move, your gaze fixed on him. “Hey, what's wrong?” he leaves the batter he was working on on the counter before walking towards you, “You okay?”

“I’m sorry”

He kneels down infront of you, holding your hands in his– he smells like vanilla from up this close, “Sorry, for what?”

“Yesterday… I didn't mean to upset you. I just– I was–”

“What would I be upset for?”

“Last night.. I–”

“baby, I’m not upset”

“But you just left and..” you sniffle, “when did you come back?”

“I didn't leave. I was here the entire time”, he shook his head, confused.

“But– I… “

“I think you had a dream honey. Freshen up, kay? I’ll bring breakfast. I think we should rot in bed the entire day today. Get some sleep. How’s that sound, honey?”

You nod, he smiles as he pulls you in for a quick kiss, “Good thing we both have the day off– thank jesus for sundays”

…

7:08 p.m. that is what Steve's wristwatch reads and he is standing at your apartment door. Steve isn't sure why he is back. He isn't sure why he left. Maybe he needed some time. And spending nearly an entire day alone... he remembers things. things he wishes he could forget again.

Although Steve is unsure about a lot of things. one thing is for certain. He loves you. He loves you like he was made for it... and he was.

He was made for loving you and not loving you is not living. He's been there before, not having you to love, he remembers the torture of it. You still don't recall it yet and he doesn't want you to, but he does. He remembers it all. All the hurt, the loneliness, the grief, the silence.

The grief that was too much to bear. Silence was unbearable when it wasn't mixed with your heartbeat.

When he turns the door handle– the door isn't locked. He steps in slowly.

He can hear the TV playing, you're on the couch. there's someone else with you. Its him.

Steve watches as he sits between your thighs on the couch– his place, your fingers playing with his hair. He readjusts his head as if can’t quite find a comfortable spot, “You okay?” you ask as gently as you always do.

“Uh, yeah its just–” he sounds just like him, “I just have this nick in my neck”, he says rubbing the back of his neck.

“Here, let me…” you mumble sweetly as your expert fingers move to where he said it ached.

He sees you dig that spot a little with your thumb, “Ah, thanks honey” he almost melts, and it makes him groan the way that always drew a groan out of Steve.

Steve doesn't mind you made him, you probably didn't even know you did, you're powerful like that. But Steve feels something bubble inside him– maybe this is what jealousy feels like. Steve watches, watches as you touch him. He digs his nails into his palm, he feels the urge to touch where you are touching him. He wonders what he would feel when his thumb would run over that area.

His fingers rise on their own accord. Skin barely touching skin, almost hovering. And then he feels… a bump. He isn't sure how to describe it but he knows that that isn't supposed to be there. Not normally, anyway.

He watches as your expert fingers move up into his hair, he always loved when you did that to him. 

His own fingers move higher into his hair. He feels another– another protrusion, another bump.

Steve knows what those are, he knows not to press down on them. You have them too. You have them where he holds you when he kisses you. Its the reason you don't remember, its the reason he didn't remember. Just for a day, he didn't have you to hold him like the way you always do and now he remembers.

Steve watches as he leans down to kiss you. And all Steve sees is red. He doesn’t have control over him as he stomps over to where the two of you were. Your heads snap towards the sound. Confusion flashes through both your features.

“y/n”, Steve says. He watches as your eyes flick between himself and the other. Your eyes land on his. Of course you know he is the real Steve. You made him.

He holds a protective hand infront of you, “y/n”, he sounds like him, “y/n, get inside”, he nods towards your bedroom door. 

“Look, man I dont know who the fuck you are. But you need to leave”, Steve hates him, he sounds nothing like him. objectively that might not be true, but he isn't him.

“You don't know who I am? Fucking look at me"

“y/n get inside”, Steve doesn't like how he says your name, how he shouts it. It sounds nothing like him. 

Steve lets you go, he doesn’t want you to see this. 

You can't look away despite not being able to see much through the sliver of the slightly ajar bedroom door. It is only when he lands a punch on Steve, that you move away from the door– eyes closing on themselves.

You hear shouts. Then thuds, knuckles hitting jaws. Some more thuds and then a loud crack. Then nothing. Its becomes too quiet. 

You quietly step even further away from the door when you hear footsteps approaching, until you feel your back hit the wall. 

The hinges of the slightly ajar door creak. and he is there. Your Steve.

He has a split lip, bruises blooming on his cheekbones. Blood splattered on his jeans, on his hands, his arms. He lifts his arm to wipe his bleeding lip, more so smearing the blood in the process. Your eyes water, heartbeat too damn loud in your ears, eyes wide as a doe.

“It's Steve. your Steve”, he reassures you, holding your face by your chin. From up this close, the blood on him doesn't look quite like blood. Its too dark, too shiny, more viscous than it should be and it doesn't seem to clot. “I’m gonna take care of you, okay?”

“But you already know that. dont you, honey?” Steve coos oh so gently as he thumbs over your cheeks to rid you of the tear stains. He feels sorry when the action instead makes the blood on his hands smear across your skin. He regrets it immediately, to have tainted you with it. He is sorry you have to see all this, to see him like this.

Steve knows he'll give it all up for you. If he ever had something to give, he would give it all up, just like you did.

Ring-ring. Ring-ring.

“It's for you, honey.”

He moves aside so you can go to the phone. It rings loud as it did earlier. You move past the kitchen, you don't see him– not entirely. He is on the floor, you see his hand around the corner of the kitchen counter, lifeless, a pool of that blood surrounding him. The corner of the kitchen counter drips with the liquid, forming a stark contrast against the light beige.

You move past the kitchen counter, eyes not daring to look at him or Steve, you don't turn around to see if Steve is there watching. You know he is.

You move to the bright red phone that is still ringing, blaring. You pick it and hold it up to your ear, “hello?”

“y– y/n? y/n its– it's me”, that woman says. And somehow, now, you know who she is. “it's me, do you–”

“Mom?” you say it before you even realise you did.

“Oh my goodness! Yes baby, it's– it's me!”

“I’m sorry mom, I had to.”

“y/n, what–”

“I have to go now.”

“y/n, no– no. Please don't hang up–” click.

“There you go honey", you feel Steve's warm hands on your shoulder, he rubs into the tense muscles there– surely staining your shirt with the liquid, "there you go."

You turn around and you see his eyes-- beautiful coffee coloured things, moles littered across his skin just the way you've memorized to heart. That smile, adorning and warm as ever. He holds you like he always does, thumb on your cheek, palm holding your face. 

He holds you like he was made for it. Your cheek fit perfectly in his palm as if you were made for him. You were made for each other.

You lean in closer and then your lips meet. It isn't hard and fast. Its slow and deep. Like you have all the time in the world, and you do.

When you pull apart and look at him, its just him. Your Steve.

You don't even remember what it was you had been worried about. All you see is Steve, all you feel is Steve. Your lover, your home, your family, your everything. It's all Steve.

You smile up at Steve and everything is right. The blood he had smeared on you was gone. The counter was clean. He was gone. Everything is right, once again.

"So", he starts, walking towards the stove, "what are we feelin' today? pancakes with blueberries, strawberries, or plain ol' choco-chip?"

"Is there an ‘all of the above’ option?"

"For you? always."

...

[strangererotica]

EXPLICIT CONTENT | MINORS DNI

Devil Worshipping Cultists Steve & Eddie x Virgin Sacrifice Fem!Reader

ADVISORY: This story contains dark content. Relevant tags are posted below the cut. Proceed only if you’re comfortable consuming content with intense themes and violent imagery. The canon is essentially flipped upside down (no pun intended) with Eddie and Steve behaving as villains in this story.

Eddie and Steve are the villains this story. They are depicted as the kind of devil-worshiping deviants the people of Hawkins accuse Eddie of being. In this story, ‘Hellfire,’ lives up to its name, with Eddie and Steve as a pair of friends who use their ‘devotion,’ to Satan as an excuse to carry out sinister actions.

Additional content warnings: words like bitch and cunt are used as insults against reader. Reader is touched against her will and a knife appears briefly. Reader’s virginity is mocked, as well as her desire to abstain from sex. She is threatened with assault. Misogyny, men being bastards, religious themes (Satan, a church, devil worship). And in the end, the bastards pay…

Eddie Munson’s eyes lick over you sinisterly. “She’s pretty and she’s a virgin?” he huffs, obviously pleased with your ‘credentials.’ “Looks like you hit the jackpot with this one, Steve.”

You hear Steve Harrington, your ‘boyfriend,’ chuckle softly behind you. You’re tempted to turn and face him, but you refuse. He has betrayed you, completely. After three months of dating who you thought was a normal, nice young man, Steve allowed his true personality to emerge. He and his twisted friend Eddie have brought you to a remote location against your will…an abandoned, decaying church. You can’t say for certain what their plans for you are, but it’s obvious they intend to harm you.

Eddie slides a fingertip under your chin, tilting your face upward. Dying sunlight streams through a window on the ceiling. Its rose-tinted glass casts a haunting glow over the room. “See that?” Eddie asks, pointing to the window. “Up there? That’s the only way out of this room-.” He glances mischievously at Steve. “-For her, anyway,” he laughs, then to you, “So unless you’ve got a set of wings I don’t know about...” Eddie moves behind you and abruptly tugs the collar of your shirt downward, splitting the fabric down your back. “…Nope, no wings,” he confirms. Eddie’s eyes feel like snakes slithering over your exposed skin. “…I guess that means you’re dying tonight,” he concludes.

As quickly as it appeared, Eddie’s dark expression turns crudely joyful, a maniacal laughter bursting from inside him. “M’just fucking with you, sweetheart!” he clarifies, but it does nothing to tame the tension in the room. “Something in you is going to die tonight,” Eddie adds, his voice a taunting lilt. “That much is true…”

Steve’s hands close over your shoulders, a familiar touch that had once felt protective. Now, you realize that every gesture of softness, every gentle word from him, has been a lie. Steve’s voice is chillingly calm as he explains: “Your innocence is dying, tonight.” You force yourself to willingly look at Steve. His hazel eyes are filled with a false sincerity. He never cared for you, at all.

Assuming you don’t understand what’s being implied, Eddie chimes in. “We’re taking your virginity tonight, (y/n).” You shake your head at Steve, whose flat expression betrays any sense of remorse. “Why?” you ask, your voice breaking. “Is this because I made you wait?? Because I’m saving that experience…having sex…for my wedding night??”

Eddie laughs out loud at your words; he finds your standards of morality equal parts hilarious and pathetic.

“Christ, Steve!” he chortles. “Where’d you find this one? Behind a pulpit??”

“Trust me (y/n),” Steve tells you. “Eddie and I aren’t doing this because you wouldn’t sleep with me the whole time we were dating. I could have taken what I wanted from you anytime during those three months.” Steve’s lips pout down at you; he’s mocking you now, just like Eddie. “Besides,” Steve continues. “It’s not like I wasn’t fucking around with other bitches the whole time, (y/n). Girls who didn’t have one damn problem spreading their legs for me…”

Eddie slaps Steve’s back in a toxic, macho sort of congratulation. “That’s my boy,” he sings. “Now, let’s get to the best part, Steve.”

Eddie reaches for the front of your shirt and yanks it down, revealing your breasts blooming over a push-up bra. “Well how about that??” he balks. “What kind of virgin wears sexy shit like that under her clothes?”

You glare at Eddie. “Believe it or not, women wear clothes for themselves,” you bite back. “Not everything’s for men and especially not you, asshole!”

Eddie shudders, pretending to be intimidated. “My apologies, y-your highness, your l-ladyship,” he stutters, holding his palms in front of him in surrender. “You got me. I’ll change my ways, I swear.”

Eddie’s open hands close suddenly over your breasts, clutching them firmly, pulling a shocked gasp from your lips. “…But not today,” he grins smugly, continuing to grope you. “Now tell me, did Stevie here at least make it to second base?”

Steve blows a drawn-out raspberry. “Not a chance,” he jeers. “This bitch is as uptight as they come. Barely let me put my tongue in her fuckin’ mouth.” Steve cups your cheek in his hand, making you flinch. “Isn’t that right, baby?” he murmurs, closing the space between you, the tip of his nose nuzzling yours. “You and those fucking standards of yours…But I guess in the end, all your stupid morals made you the best sacrifice of all…”

You lurch back from Steve, right into Eddie’s arms, unfortunately. He spins you around to face him, a sadistic glimmer in his eyes when he speaks. “That’s right (y/n), we’re sacrificing your purity tonight,” Eddie explains. “And the fact that you’re a goody-two shoes little cunt actually makes it all the better.”

“What are you talking about?” you snap. “Sacrificing my purity? Who the hell talks like that? Fucking weirdos-”

“DON’T-,” Eddie shouts, shoving a finger at you. “-DISRESPECT…the RITUAL.” His eyes are like fire; Eddie is seething. “DON’T-disrespect-HIM…”

The sunlight has faded completely by this point. The only illumination in the room is coming from Eddie’s lighter, a thin flame twitching in his unsteady grip.

You stare stone-faced at Steve, your Judas Iscariot, your betrayer, the man whose lies outshine even his beauty. The window blinks above you, lightning flashing nearby.

“Satan,” Steve utters in a low, reverent tone. As if on cue in a cheesy horror movie, thunder rumbles outside the church.

You roll your eyes at Steve, earning you an even harsher glare from Eddie. “Satan?” you parrot back at Steve. “As in, the Devil? Are you serious?”

“-Is this fucking serious enough for you?” Eddie shouts. He pulls a pocket knife from his pants and juts its tip against your throat. “This is how it has to happen. We prayed to Satan, and He told us.”

“Told you what?” you sneer. “That if you fucked a virgin in the sanctuary of an old church, the Devil will give you magic powers or something? You really believe in that kind of shit?”

“Yeah,” Steve says, tugging your arm towards him. “Because it’s real. And you’re about to find out how real it is.”

He yanks you by the wrist, ordering you onto the ground . A bolt of lightning crackles outside, close enough that it makes Steve and Eddie jump. The brief pulse of light illuminates the three of you, and maybe Eddie’s imagining it, but he could swear your eyes look…different. Darker, somehow.

He assumes it’s just a shadow, a trick of the light, and tries to ignore it. Steve pulls at your arm again, trying to force you onto the floor. But you won’t budge. He can’t understand how you’re fighting him; he’s clearly stronger than you are. Thunder shakes the ground beneath your feet, a low hum bellowing from below as if the earth itself is groaning.

“You hear that?” Eddie asks excitedly, his pulse racing. “It’s Him, Steve. It’s fucking Him!”

Wind whips around the old church, its wooden beams creaking like tired bones. Eddie’s lighter begins to flicker in and out; he curses and smacks it against his palm, trying again.

When the flame ignites, its amber glow illuminates only Steve and Eddie’s faces. You appear to have vanished.

“Where the fuck did she go?? She was right-”

“-Well you were the one holding her fucking arm, Steve-how should I-.”

“HEY!” you call from behind the pulpit. Both men whip their bodies to face you, another burst of lightning revealing their wide eyes gazing up at yours.

“H-how did you do that?” Steve asks, his voice wavering. Eddie shakes the bewilderment from his mind, now even more determined to see his plan through. “You little bitch,” he growls. “I don’t know how you did that, how you got up there that fast, but you’re still ours, and we’re still in control!”

Eddie starts for the podium, but finds himself frozen, unable to move an inch. His eyes go wide as saucers, fear washing over his face.

“You both look so small from up here,” you tell them, leaning over the pulpit, your breasts pressed against it. “Small and weak. Pathetic, actually.”

Eddie smacks Steve’s shoulder, telling him to grab you; but try as he might, Steve is frozen in place as well.

The glow from Eddie’s lighter flicks in and out as his hand shakes uncontrollably. “What the hell is this?” Steve asks in a small, timid voice. But Eddie has no answer to give him.

“All those hours the two of you spent praying,” you speculate, getting high on their fear. “I wonder who you were actually praying to? Because it certainly wasn’t me…”

Steve’s jaw goes slack, sweat dripping from his hairline. Eddie wants to know…has to know, if what you’re implying is true. “L…Lord,” he begins tentatively, his voice trembling. “I had no idea-we-had no idea, it was You-.”

“SILENCE,” you order, and Eddie’s lips seal shut. “Bow to your Master, if it’s Satan you praise. Or can you not bring yourself to kneel at the feet of a woman?” A dry laughter rumbles from your chest, filling the room with heat, rattling the church’s bony frame.

Steve and Eddie tremble beneath you. Lightning strikes above the church; you watch its glare in the ceiling window, how it floods the terrified faces of the men at your feet. A tall tree beside the church is struck; it catches fire immediately.

“You bastards would need a taste of Hell, to understand how sick you are,” you tell Steve and Eddie. “Therefore, it’s what I’ll give you.”

The tree collapses against the roof of the church, setting it ablaze. Eddie and Steve whirl their heads to see it, but their feet are still stuck in place.

You remain calm, as if the decrepit old building isn’t going up like a box of matchsticks around you. “Legend says,” you preach to the men. “That the Devil wears a suit and tie…” You lean forward against the pulpit, your black eyes glaring down at them. “…But sometimes, She wears a push-up bra…”

A beam of rotting wood detaches from the ceiling, falling directly in front of Steve and Eddie, blowing dust and smoke into their eyes. As they cough and sputter and try to make out the shape of you behind the pulpit, they realize you’ve vanished. Panic seizes them both as flames draw closer and closer to the place their feet are locked, immovable. Sweat pours down their faces, eyes wide with tears that evaporate as soon as they form. The heat is suffocating, clogging their throats, smoke filling their lungs to bursting…

…And just as the first touch of fire licks at their skin, it STOPS.

Eddie and Steve are laying in the field outside the church, their backs burning, bits of clothing singed off around them. They gulp the fresh air into their mouths, weeping tears that can finally fall, drinking in the rain as it begins to cascade above them.

They watch the church, as the last of its pillars and beams are consumed by fire, brought down to its foundation. Rain puts out the flames remaining, as darkness swallows the area once more. Smoke rises like a prayer to Heaven, along with the tearful utterances of two men forever changed in one night, asking God to forgive them, two sinners grateful to still be breathing…

[mochiroreo]

Oh goodie! Pt.1 [cherry pies, vanilla, and cigars]

18+ MDNI

Pairing: Older!Eddie Munson x innocent!nerdy!reader (afab!reader) x Older!Steve Harrington

Wordcount: 5.4k

Summary: being a latchkey child, you are used to being alone. So when your parents announced that your whole family is moving to Hawkins, you paid them no mind and just packed up your bags. What you are not expecting was that the house that your family just bought comes with two neighbours that are in dire need to have you in any way.

Trigger Warnings: [this chapter: manipulation. Gaslighting. Fingering. Titty sucking. Taking advantage of reader’s vulnerable state.] she/her pronouns. DUBCON. NONCON. 100% FILTH. Smut. Unprotected P in V (wrap it before you tap it). Hidden relationships. Age gap. Cream pie. Size kink. Degradation. Corruption. Choking/slapping (in a pleasurable way). Pet names (no use of y/n). Fingering. Squirting. Overstimulation. Public sex. Non-consented Recording.

Author’s note: hello hello~ sorry for the long wait! Steddie are now on the move~! As usual, thank you so much for your support on my first fanfic ever! And sorry in advance for the grammar mistakes as English is not my first language. Not beta’d as well (we die like Nanam— *gets mugged in Shibuya arc*) Enjoy! 💖

“Hi..?” Ever so softly,you whispered and let it hang onto the air. Both men just looking at you with wide eyes and an expression that you aren’t sure if its embarrassment because they know you have heard what they were talking about or they just don’t expect a woman like you to be in front of their door around this time. Both of them staring at you with intensity, making you unconsciously grab the boxes a little bit tighter,feeling your palms sweat before turning your head away slightly to try and ease the warmth that is slowly creeping up your body from being ogled openly. One of the them,the one with thick,luscious hair ran his eyes all over you,unconsciously biting his bottom lip. The other,arms littered with tattoos,doing the same thing, holding such intense stare that you cannot stand it anymore which made you clear your throat and snap them out of their trance.

“Hi..?” The tattooed man answered,also clearing his throat before leaning against the door frame. Taking a deep breath, he looks like he is about to say something before closing his mouth again. He ran his fingers through his shoulder length hair upwards,clearly in distraught on what to say to you,not minding how it ruined his hair a bit. He did not expect someone,a woman (who is definitely his type) to be standing in front of his friend’s door. Hell,his best friend looks like he did not expect someone at all too with how he is standing awkwardly beside him.

“Uhm.. are you lost? I— we—“ stumbling on his words, he looked at his friend with annoyance “fuck— help me out here man!” He whispered harshly to his best fried beside him with a bit of a shove,which seemed to take his friend out of his staring competition against you and made him fold his arms over his chest. “Uh,sorry, I’m Steve. Steve Harrington. and this is Eddie Munson” Steve introduced his friend and himself politely before extending his hand,which he retreated back after noticing how you’re balancing two boxes. He wanted to help you but does not want to seem like he is already overstepping his boundaries. “Is there anything we can do for you?” Steve combed his hair,a nervous habit of his,but you only stared at him.

With the presence of both men and the slowly cooling air of Hawkins,your cheeks slowly grew red. You snapped out of it when it felt like minutes has passed after his question,making your cheeks warmer in embarrassment “I uhm.. we just moved here and my mom baked these pies for you and uh the other neighbor.. I’m just here to give you yours.” Eddie clenched his jaw with how soft you spoke. God forbid him for already having feral thoughts about someone he just met. The way your cheeks grew red, the way your eyes slowly raked over him and Steve’s frame before tilting your head to stop staring at them, and how your skirt fits perfectly and shows the meaty expense of your thighs. He knows he is fucked with the palpable attraction that he is already holding for you. And its seems like his best friend holds it for you too with the way Steve looks at you. Hearing you say the statement though made him and Steve feel like they won a million bucks. What are the odds of leaving next to someone looking so divine?

“Oh-!” Steve exclaimed,grabbing both boxes from your hands,to which shocked you and almost made you fell. Eddie quickly managed to grab your arm,immediately shooting Steve a glare. “Jesus” he mumbled. His hand is warm,firmly holding you and making sure you’re standing properly before gently letting go. Your eyes widened with the sudden physical contact,mumbling a “thank you” and looking down to fiddle with your fingers,trying to calm your nerves and the odd sensation in your stomach. Steve only eyed you and Eddie sheepishly,giving you a small chuckle “Sorry. I just really wanna help you out the moment I’ve noticed you were having a hard time with these boxes” he leaned onto the door to open it wider “if you’re planning to give the other pie to the other neighbor, you’re in luck cause this guy—“ he paused before pointing his head to Eddie “this guy is your other neighbor.” Eddie gave you the friendliest smile he can muster, before extending his hand. Blaming your nerves for short circuiting because of the full blown interaction, you grabbed his hand with both of your hands and shook it gently. “Nice to meet you both.” You tried to answer sternly but your voice just won’t come out clearly. He lets out a booming laugh, looking at both of your hands before copying you and shaking both of your hands with his.

“Its nicer to meet you.”

Noticing how his voice dropped a tad bit when he said the statement,you cannot help the slight shiver that crawled under your skin. It already felt so wrong. Standing in front of two men that are literally strangers and knowing that you are already infatuated with how good-looking they are is definitely not what you expected on the first day of moving to a different state that you barely knew exist. And definitely how you reacted to someone before. Biting your lip out of embarrassment,you just nodded to him and let go of his hands. Steve,smirking with the interaction,gestured towards inside his house “would you like something to drink-? You must have been standing there for a while.” The question took you off guard,looking at them both with hesitation while you struggle to answer. “I don’t want to bother—“ before you can even finish your sentence,Steve had already cut you off “nonsense. Its alright,you’re not bothering anyone.” He waved you off,carrying the boxes with ease. “Come on in,honey.” With a boyish smile given your way, you took the invitation,the nickname making the odd feeling inside you growing stronger and hard to ignore. You followed him,stepping inside the house while Eddie closed the door with a knowing smile, which Steve returned when he looked at him.

“You just moved here today..?” Steve started as he put down the boxes on the countertop. The design of his house is very modern,neutral colours were dominating every space but not without a pop of colour here and there which just screamed like him with how he’s dressed with some brown slacks and a pale yellow sweater. You stopped looking around,realising you haven’t told them your name yet so you did,taking a seat on one of the bar stools to which Eddie followed and sat beside you.

“Aww, what a pretty name.” He cooed,chuckling with the way you immediately blushed. Both men took the opportunity to look at you closer. Glasses sitting perfectly on your face, red pouty lips that looks like they will feel like heaven once they kiss you, the soft pink skirt that fits you perfectly and shows of your curves. Something akin to feral were slowly being awaken with just your presence.

“Uh yeah,just moved in. Me and my parents.” Adjusting your glasses,you gave Steve a small smile when he handed you and Eddie some lemonade. “I see..” he nodded,taking a sip out of his own glass before continuing “are you planning to continue your studies here then,hon? Hawkins doesn’t have much to offer but the universities and public colleges here and surrounding areas are quite nice— or are you still in high school?” Eddie knows what Steve is really asking you without all the formalities. He gulped his drink,slowly taking small sips while he waits for your answer. He is hoping that if the heavenly beings are real,that they are on his side on this. Him and Steve would be disgusted with themselves inside and out if you choose the latter as the answer to Steve’s question,already planning to drop you home just in case.

“Oh no” you quickly answered,shaking your head “I am planning to attend a university here but I haven’t decided what to pursue yet.. which kind of explains why I’m out here on what should’ve been a school night. I’m turning 19 this summer” politely answering before focusing on your lemonade and removing the slice of lemon wedged at the edge of your glass. Steve sighed in relief,a little too loud, with how quick you looked at him. “Are you alright?” You asked him, tilting your head in concern to which Eddie answered “He’s fine sweetheart” the nickname rolled too easy at Eddie’s tongue, giving you a smirk. “He’s just really happy that his lemonade tastes good.” Steve only chuckled, agreeing to Eddie’s statement before he moves to open a cupboard and a drawer for some plates and cutlery for the pies. Noticing him grabbing 3 plates, you started feeling restless that you are overstaying “I uh— sorry Sir, I’m alright. I- I can just eat the pie at home. My mom bakes them all the time.” Slowly getting down from the bar stool, you grabbed your glass that was once full, along with the coaster “I don’t want to over stay, your family might come home and ask why a stranger is inside their house.” You tried to joke with them, smiling and mentally giving yourself a pat on the back for thinking that you’re really doing well at socializing, oblivious to the effects of what you called Steve. Eddie shifted uncomfortably on his seat, easing the growing pain behind his jeans while Steve took some deep breaths to steady himself. Sir. Fucking Sir. That was said with the most innocent intent but went quickly to their groins. If they thought that hearing you speak earlier was like the loveliest melody wrapped in honey, what more would it be when you’re breathless and a moaning mess underneath them?

“No, you don’t need to worry about that” Steve clarified. “Me and Eddie live alone, so you can just call us by our names. No need to be too polite,sweetie.” Walking towards where you are, he gave you a firm squeeze on your shoulder, to which you looked at him in surprise “We’re already neighbors, we’re going to see each other every day starting tonight. Might as well be comfortable around us already.” Shyly looking at him with doe-eyes, you can only give him a sincere smile while staring at him to which him and Eddie gave you a grin. Steve is ecstatic. His eyes can’t hide the emotions that he is trying to keep at bay. His excitement. Curiosity. All the things he already wants to do with you to open you up to him is slowly filling his mind. Excusing yourself to put your glass on the sink and to wash your hands, Eddie gave Steve a look. A knowing look that they’re going to talk about important things later, forgetting about all the things he laid out tonight that he said he will finish before the day ends. Wiping your hands on a tea towel, you asked them “would you perhaps know any stores around that are hiring? I would really like to apply to one..” Eddie never thought that he will smile so wide that he felt his cheeks starting to hurt. If he felt like a million bucks earlier, he felt like a million times luckier than Steve now. What are the chances that he owns a record store that clearly doesn’t need any employees except you-?

“I own a record store, if you wanna apply? No need for a resume. You look trustworthy enough.” You gasped then squealed,forgetting where you are before giving him a quick hug. You were too happy about already landing a job without going store to store and talking to every manager to notice how Eddie’s eyes widened, before slightly hugging you back. You pulled away immediately,mumbling sorry’s continuously,cheeks now back to being red at what you just did. “I’m so sorry,I’m just—“ you mumbled too quickly,while he just gave you a grin. You felt him rest his hand on the curve of your back,acting as if it doesn’t give him the same gnawing feeling at the pit of your stomach. “You’re alright. Like Stevie here said, we’re going to see each other now every day. Might as well feel comfortable,right?” You nodded at his words,relief evident on your face when you thought you ruined the night with your sudden bold move. “I- thank you so much.” You gave them both a genuine smile,to which they cannot help but be in awe with how cute you look. You feel giddy,not only did you think they’re handsome but they are also the nicest neighbours already. You cannot think how it will make your parents pretty proud. Your mom’s voice ringing inside your head “I told you so.”

Both of them guided you towards the door,you cannot stop yourself from thanking them. You stepped out of Steve’s house before turning around to look at them with a shy smile on your face. “I will bring more pies in the future. It was so nice meeting you both!” You promised to them,waving your hand goodbye as your feet found the asphalt once again,skipping on your way home.

They both waved goodbye before Steve closes the door shut,releasing a breath he’s been holding before giving Eddie a look to which he returned. Eddie clasped both of his hands on his chest. “Whoever divine being is in heaven. They are fucking real.” Steve cannot help but to run his fingers through his hair while figuring out what just happened and what he is currently feeling. He had never been smitten with someone he just met. Even with his beloved ex,Nancy, it took him a few weeks to figure out how attracted he is to her. He groaned,running his hand on his face. “I take back what I said to Robin. I take it back” he walked towards his fridge, opening it to grab a pack of beer for him and Eddie. Sitting down, he opened his beer and quickly chugged almost half of it “we were fucking teasing her with how quick it was for her to be smitten when she met Vicky. And now—“ Eddie couldn’t help but laugh, grabbing a beer as well “we are way more worse.” He shook his head,sighing at how his mind seem to drift towards a particular neighbor already. “I want her.” Eddie stated, there was no hint of playfulness nor humour in his eyes while he looks at Steve. “Do you?”

“Yeah.” Steve stood up, drinking the last of his beer before crushing the metal can and chucking it in his bin. Sighing,he plopped down on the sofa and closed his eyes. “Yeah, I want her too.” He gave Eddie a sly smile, having a mutual understanding on what they want to do.

And how they want to do it.

Tonight is like a fever dream.

You immediately changed your clothes back to your sleeping ones with a smile on your face. Laying down, it sinks on you that you’re alone now, so you had let your mind wonder to the things you felt earlier. The feelings that were foreign to you but mixed with uncertainty. You touched your arm that was squeezed gently by Steve while the feeling of Eddie’s hand that rested on your backside felt like it’s still there. Butterflies still erupting at the pit of your stomach though laced with uneasiness and doubt. You try to calm yourself, telling yourself that they’re just your awfully nice neighbours and that they don’t deserve the doubts you’re thinking about them. Finding sleep at last.

A week went by quickly. Days filled with sticky shirts and the smell of chlorine.

Immediately telling your parents the next day how you managed to land a job after meeting your neighbors, they were proud and happy for you. “They are just the kindest” you told them,saying how they did not hesitate to offer it to you without even getting to know you. You busy yourself with arranging your things from the move, helping your parents decide which curtains fit the living area better, and going to some good spots around Hawkins. Your days being spent mostly with your parents while they enjoy their days off with you before they go back to working again.

You went out with your mom to grab some groceries, the car slowly coming to a stop as she parks on the driveway. Talking about the things you’ve noticed about Hawkins that you did not have from where you used to live. The town kept tons of things that made it look like its stuck in the 80s and 90s. Drive through movies, vintage theaters, a mall called “Starcourt” that have a vibrant blue and red retro sign. You quickly hopped out went straight to the car trunk and opened it,trying to grab as many bags as you can. Hearing your dad’s voice not too far, you turned around to call and ask him for help before noticing that there’s two familiar silhouettes in front of him that he is currently talking too. “Dad?” Calling him a bit louder than earlier, he turned around before Steve and Eddie followed. Your eyes widened a bit, feeling the warmth that you felt that day when you met them,both of them giving you a small wave. Awfully conscious with your choice of short shorts and oversized shirt, you turned back around and focused your gaze on the bags you are trying to carry.

“Need some help,sweetheart?” The deep timbre of Eddie’s voice made you shiver, goosebumps trailing over your arms. He’s already grabbing some bags, taking the ones on your hands too. “T-thanks..” you mumbled, trying to put some space between you and him so he can carry the bags easier. Quickly shutting the trunk, you see your parents talking to Steve,clearly laughing at whatever he said. You and Eddie walked towards them, trying to grab some bags on the way even though he’s too stubborn. “Oh goodness, thank you!” Your mom exclaimed “would you gentlemen like to come in and stay for dinner? I’ll be making my casserole,which everyone says that they love. I’ll love to put that statement to the test.” Your mom asked them both,already opening the door with your dad following her “It’ll be our pleasure” Steve answered,throwing a grin on your way which made you give him a small smile back when your dad grabbed his attention,letting his eyes wander on your body for the last time before immersing himself on another round of sports talk.

Everything’s going well on their end,it seems.

Dinner went by smoothly.

Your parents seem to love them both already,smooth talking their way on several topics that mostly focused on you in which your parents are happy to tell them about. Your mom was telling them how you are always on top of your class and subjects you find interesting. Your hobbies, your achievements, your preference in food even. While your dad tells them how you kicked a bully on 8th grade, when you did something funny in the middle of the grocery aisle that your mom snorted too loud. This made Steve and Eddie looked at you while you try to hide your face, blushing while whining “mom, dad, my god stop”. They were both taking mental notes, thinking of ways how to pamper you, how to take care of you while also how to defile you. It was a mixture of gentleness and filth, the gentle part only there to make you open up to them and their desires. After helping you mom in cleaning up and washing the dishes, you excused yourself and said goodnight to everyone, yawning on the way to the stairs to go up to your room.

Througout the dinner, Eddie cannot help but steal glances your way. How lovely you look in that oversize shirt that he wishes was his, how it showcases your neck and enough skin to leave it in his imagination, already looking forward to painting it with hickeys. He hates the fact that this is Steve’s “plan”. He hates the fact that he needs to take things slow, but he knows that all this planning and acting on it will be worth it.

And seeing Steve’s massive grin when your parents asked them after a week if both of them can look after you as they work all the time and how they don’t want you to feel alone in a new town, it is indeed worth it.

By the time your parents left after a few days of getting told that they will be out of town for a week, you quickly found yourself in your room, burying your whole body underneath your blanket. That gnawing feeling of loneliness is now back after feeling your happiest for the past few weeks.

Your eyes slowly becoming blurry as your tears cascade down your cheeks, your hands trying to wipe every single tear away though it just kept on coming. You hated how the empty house kind of made your sobs grow louder in your ears, covering your mouth to muffle it out. The ringing of the doorbell halted your sobs, turning into sniffles while you stand up and try to look presentable on the way to your door. Only wearing your oversized sweater, you adjusted it and wore your house slippers. With one last look at a mirror near your hallway, you opened the door to find Steve and Eddie.

“Hey, sweetheart! We were supposed to come here earlier but got stucked in traffic.” Eddie explained,looking down while adjusting his watch that kept on getting too loose for his liking,. “Yeah, sorry for the sudden visit honey. They have mentioned that they’re leaving for a week and if we can look after you— why are your eyes red?” Steve asked, looking at your face intently, his smile now replaced with a scowl. The statement made Eddie look up quickly, his soft demeanor quickly changing like Steve’s. Your lower lip was jutted in a pout, trembling while you try to stop yourself from crying. “I- I’m— Mr. Harrington.. Mr. Munson—“ you tried to answer that you’re fine, just feeling off but your voice wobbled and suddenly you cannot stop your tears from spilling. Both men went rigid because of what you called them before snapping themselves out of it. They can appreciate your tear-stained cheeks later if it was in a different situation.

Steve immediately stepped inside and wrapped his arms around you, his bigger frame enveloping your body in a warm embrace. All the emotions that you were trying to keep at bay now coming out, sobbing in his chest. Steve had one of his arms wrapped around you, his hand resting on your lower back while the other holds your nape gently, drawing soft circles to calm you down. The action made you cry harder, your hands finding its way on his shirt, clutching on it tightly. “Oh baby, its okay. Its okay. We’re here” He tried to calm you down, feeling his breath on top of your head as he continue to gently rub your back. Eddie closed the door, concern written on his face as he watches his friend hold you. “How about we move to the couch, pretty girl?” Steve said, his voice laced with softness. He felt you nod on his chest, still sniffling as him and Eddie guided you to the couch. You already missed Steve’s warmth. His scent,a mix of something sweet and tart, like cherries laced with vanilla, filled your senses the moment he wrapped his arms around you. You did not dare to look at them once you sat down, feeling embarrassed about crying, and about wanting to be hugged by either of them. “Sweetheart, can you please tell us whats wrong?” Eddie softly asks, placing his hand on your knee while Steve sat down on the other side, holding your arm and rubbing it in an comforting manner. “I just— I feel so lonely.” Wiping your tears using the sleeves of your sweater, you continue “I can usually ignore it but today I’m—“ you covered your face out of embarrassment, out of thinking that they must have been annoyed by now with how much of a crybaby you are. “Oh sweet girl, come here. You don’t need to feel shy about this” Eddie said, shuffling closed to you and wrapping his arms around you, he rested his head on top of yours. Your smell intoxicating him as he take deep breaths. You gripped his arms, letting his scent consume you like Steve’s. His is a mix of cigars and grapefruit. You looked up at him with doe-eyes, his hand quickly catching your falling tears. “Me and Steve are here now, yeah? You won’t feel alone now.”

He whispered, hand now caressing your cheek in a loving manner while he looks straight to your eyes. You stared at his long lashes, pink lips that looks too soft, cheeks kissed by the sun with how there are freckles here and there up close. Steve’s arm wrapped themselves around you as you face Eddie, resting his head on your shoulder. He had let his hands wander, playing with the hem of your sweater. “Our sweet girl..” he whispered directly to your ear. You shivered, a foreign feeling crawling under your skin while you gasped. Your stomach twisting into something that is uncomfortable but at the same time pleasurable.

“No more days and nights feeling lonely..” Eddie swiped his thumb on your lips, watching you let go of your bottom lip that you did not realized you’ve been biting. “We’re now with you all the time, your parents told us to look after you. Take care of you..” Steve’s hands began to crawl their way upwards, his hands now caressing your bare thighs, before realizing you’re only wearing an underwear underneath which made him release a deep groan. You froze, feeling wetness pool in the middle of your legs. “M- Mr. Harrington..” you tried to close your legs, changing your position on the sofa before Eddie stopped you and held your face to make you look back at him again “Shhh.. its alright, sweetheart. This is how you forget. This is how you can forget how lonely and sad you’ve felt.” You tried to focus on what he was saying but Steve’s hands are now playing with the lace of your panties while also peppering soft kisses on your neck, making you release a whimper. You felt Steve’s smirk on your neck before sucking your skin, leaving his mark on you, Eddie’s pupils now blown wide with lust and desire. You continued to whimper before feeling Eddie’s lips on you. You gripped his arms, trying to control his pace, as the rational part of your brain screams how wrong it is to kiss your neighbors that were just trying to comfort you. Eddie grabbed both of your arms with one hand and pinned it to your side, while the other held your face to crane your head back a bit to let him kiss you deeper.

Steve continued his assault on your underwear, pushing your underwear down before hiking your sweater up to expose your pussy. He moaned on your neck when he touched your bare cunt that is soaking wet, fingers swiping your juicy lips before he lifted it to know what you taste like. “God, honey. You taste so sweet. So fucking sweet.” One of his hand now holds your hip still, the other going back to play with your pussy. He found your clit and kept on rubbing it in a pace that made you buck your hips. You threw your head back, Eddie quickly latching his mouth on the other side of your neck. You moaned at all the sensations you’re feeling, everything foreign but welcomed with how you unconsciously try to open your legs wider to let Steve’s thick fingers play with you more. Your mind is slowly becoming blank, pleasure numbing all the other emotions you were feeling earlier with how good they’re touching you. Eddie’s kisses travelled lower, hiking your sweater up to release your breasts before him. His mouth quickly finding your hardened nipple, sucking it hard while your other nipple gets toyed with his calloused fingers, rolling it between his thumb and forefinger. Breathy moans left spit-slicked lips, catching hold of Steve’s hair. The tight hold on his hair urged Steve to finally soak his fingers on your cunt, one thick finger breaching its way inside you. “Fuck!” Steve exclaimed as you moaned loudly, watching how his finger disappears while he build his pace.

Feeling you relaxed, he added another finger that made your eyes roll back. With Eddie still sucking your nipples and leaving hickeys all over your chest, and Steve’s unforgiving fingers pumping in and out of your pussy, you were starting to see white. “Yes baby, that’s it. Oh, how can you be this pretty? Even the sounds you’re making— jesus, I’m gonna explode.” Eddie mumbled on your skin, continuing his actions to your sensitive nipples. “Fucking perfect for us, made for us—“ Steve grunted, rubbing your clit using his thumb. You clenched on his fingers, the pleasure slowly becoming too much for you. “Mr. Harrington—“ you tried to call out to him, wanting to grab his arm but forgetting that Eddie is still holding it in place. “Yeah, baby? Feeling too good?” Drool pooled around your lips, losing your train of thought. High-pitched moans leaving your lips continously as Steve furrowed his eyebows in concentration. He felt you clench on his fingers, hips bucking to meet his fingers to which he knows that you’re close to cumming. “S-stop please— M-Mr. Harrington- it feels weird,I’m gonna pee—“ you tell him with shaky breaths, trying to stop the urge to not embarrass your self further. Steve chuckled, quickening his pace. Eddie inserted his thumb on your mouth, to which you immediately suck. He groaned at the feeling of your tongue enveloping his thumb and to the sight of your tear-stained cheeks and drooling mouth with how fucked out you are. One thrust of Steve’s fingers towards the spongey texture made you trembled, releasing Eddie’s thumb to let out a high-pitched moan. Steve continued before whispering on your ear. “Let go, our good girl.” He gave your neck a kiss, before feeling you still underneath them with your eyes rolled at the back of your head. Your legs quiver, creamy white cum now coating Steve’s fingers.

You whined when Steve took out his fingers, lapping your up your cum before offering his fingers to Eddie. “Taste her.” He said, Eddie quickly lapping your creamy release on Steve’s fingers while staring at your figure. He let out a deep groan, closing his eyes while he savours your flavor on his tongue. “Like fucking honey.” Both men looked at you, body coated in sweat, eyes closed with drool on your lips. Eddie took of his shirt, wiping the remnants of your cum between your legs before standing up and grabbing water for the three of you while Steve slowly arranged your position to lay you down comfortably on the sofa.

“See, honey? We got you. No more crying every night or day..” he softly talked to you, brushing your hair out of your face. He cupped your cheek on his hand, “we will be here,okay? This is what we’ll do when you feel sad and lonely. So you can forget all those.” Leaning on to his touch, you slowly opened your eyes. “B-but what about mom and dad..” you looking at him so innocently made his forgotten boner throb underneath his slacks. Not today, he told himself. “This is our little secret, yeah? Mommy and Daddy doesn’t have to know.” He gave your lips a quick peck, smiling when he watched your cheeks go pink. Eddie walked in, handing Steve your water and his. Steve made you drink a bit before letting you drift to sleep, cheeks squished on a throw pillow.

Eddie drank his water, plopping down on another chair while Steve does the same. “This is like a fucking drug.” He groaned, putting his hair in a low, messy bun. “Tell me about it” Steve combed his hair, both men watching your sleeping form in awe. “You think she won’t tell her parents?” Eddie asked, the idea making him a little nervous. “Mhm, I doubt. Besides—“ Steve looked at Eddie with a smirk, before he moves to fix your sweater from exposing your bare ass more to them. “You still have that video camera, right, Munson?” Eddie chuckled darkly to his friend, nodding his head. “Yeah. I still have it.” He looked directly at Steve’s eyes, mimicking the devilish grin of the other.

“You’re evil. And you know it. Don’t you, big boy?”

[rustedhearts]

black swan: a severed lamb continuation

(pastor!steve harrington x fem!reader)

summary: pastor steve pays you a visit at college "on behalf of your mother."

♰ roller girl’s pie stand! 🍒 ♰ severed lamb ♰ 'tis autumn

tags: this is a blurb, not a “part” of the series!!; age gap (steve is 35, reader is 19); religious manipulation + regular manipulation; fear + intimidation; stalking i guess; a loooot of religious guilt; actual scripture quoted; forced prayer; like almost dollification; pls do not read this if any of this makes you even the slightest bit uncomfortable. (did not edit, don’t come for my mistakes.)

for @softagardenblooms ⭐️ giving us all what we really want: more pastor!steve <3 sorry it took so long!

rural pennsvylvania, autumn, 1981

Outside the iron lattice of your Lane Hall window, an early winter brewed. The leaves turned and died quickly, and those that clung to their boughs appeared rusted and limp. Walking through campus was now a noisy feat. The soil seemed eternally damp and dull, what grass remained more blonde than green. The thing you missed most about Georgia was the robin's egg sky. Here, everything was grey.

The glass of the window fogged terribly. The girls in Lane cranked the heat up high enough to have an excuse for minimal clothing, yet the outdoors remained bitterly cold.

In an effort to enjoy a moment of quiet solitude in your room, you stood from the creaky wooden bed and wiped your palm over the window. It squeaked over the condensation, creating a streak of clarity to the street of houses below.

A maroon two-door waited on the curb across the black road. It had an Indiana license plate.

"Delilah? You got a visitor!" one of the girls called from outside your room.

You stepped back from the window, lowering your hand and its cold fingertips to your side. Another cold swept through you, settling somewhere in your chest. As bitter as a Pennsylvanian autumn, and as a sour as a cherry from your tree back home. The cherry that once stained his fingers, dipping between his mouth and your mouth.

Bloody fingers that delivered evil through pleasure.

Bred to obey the calling command of male visitors, you turned away from your bed and started toward the door. But you stopped on the toe of your socked foot.

You could feign slumber. But he came in when you were sick and tired.

You could hide in the closet. Your eyes darted toward the lone door near your desk. But he always knows where to find you.

You swallowed as your hand touched the door. It yawned open on its hinges. Immediately, the murmuring of the girls scattered amongst their rooms and the lower floor emitted in a low hum. The floor released little snaps with each step toward the stairs. The Hall was old and worn, taped over with celebrity posters and glittered name stamps.

As you took the first step, another cold gathered. This one in your belly, behind your navel where that sweet, sickening, nauseating pleasure festered under his hands and his touch. You pressed your hand there, pausing on the second step to take a breath.

You could feel him.

The way you felt him from the moment he arrived back home. How he lingered in every room with the omnipotence of his Savior. How his stare sat like hot coals upon your shoulders from across the room. How the promise of his hands came with the fleeting breeze of his body in your vicinity.

His presence had a warmth and a wholeness to it that made your throat tighten. Like being locked in a tight, black room that grows tighter and yet seemingly vaster with every second inside. As though the limits of the darkness are endless, though its bounds are tangibly sworn.

"Delilah? Deli—oh, here she is!" one of the older girls, Rachel, cooed as she collected you with a hand around your arm on the steps.

She came bounding down, and you swore it was only because she pulled you that your feet remembered to go.

He stood tall in the center of the lounge, barely past the doorframe, feet still angled to go further. They flocked around him like pigeons, pecking at the affections of his slow, sideways smile, and roaming gaze. It turned to you as your hall mate pulled you into the room.

You could have sworn something pierced your lung, eliminating all possibilities of keeping in air.

“Hello, Delilah.”

His voice hit you like the gong of a church bell at noon. Familiar, expected, but with a resonance of something to come. An image of his eyes hovering over you while his hands swept through your nightgown flashed through your mind. You had to pinch away a shudder.

“H-hi,” you murmured, and cast your eyes down to your socks.

“She’s always so shy,” another girl piped up. “Lilah, aren’t you gonna introduce us?”

A warmth spread to every inch of your face. It singed the tips of your ears. You fiddled with the strings on your bed shorts, suddenly feeling bare. Though he had seen you in far less—had seen you as bare as the day you were born—you could not fathom to stand before him like this with the audience growing in the lounge.

“I’m Steve,” he said for you, and cast a smile upon the girls that had them elbowing each other. “But I’m afraid we can’t stay for pleasantries, girls. Delilah and I were just headin’ out.”

Your eyes flitted toward him, a panic setting like stone in your limbs. “R-really?”

He seemed to only look at you, though the girls tipped and cocked their heads to assess him and his garb, alternating between his corduroy jacket and your tattered sleep clothes.

“Yes,” he purred, and the smile the others swooned at made you take the smallest step backwards. “I’ll wait while you change.”

♰ ���

It took you another ten minutes to change, fumbling through every drawer and hanger knowing everything he'd ever touched you in was packed away and left back home, and nothing in your collection seemed worthy enough to dispense so easily.

When you met him on the lawn, his eyes went directly to your chest, where he became accustomed to finding the gleaming gold of a delicate cross. Today, it came up bare.

He said nothing of it as he turned toward the car, and you followed with silent, tip-toed steps. You kept a distance as you passed through the door he opened for you and took your place on the leather passenger seat.

The cold condensation of a milk carton between your thighs against the sticky heat of a Georgian summer haunted the car. Even in the white-breathed cold settling in the car, you felt a scorching heat crawling up your spine. You pulled at your sweater sleeves to invite the cold in.

The car jostled when he slammed the driver door. You kept your eyes on the dash, fingers curling into your palms as he turned the keys in the ignition.

"Your mama's worried about you," is the first thing he says to you.

You wet your lips, turning to the window to watch the street go by. The town was built for the university's accommodation. The library marked the edge of town, and everything past that was farmland and desolation. You hoped he wasn't taking you there.

HIs statement settled like spoiled milk. You wanted to proclaim it a lie immediately. Mama hadn't answered a letter once this semester. Every weekend phone call went unanswered. You called one of the neighbors and asked them to check on her in case the liquor finally got the best of her. But they assured you she was doing well. Just busy.

Yet, he wouldn't lie...right? He wouldn't drive the half day it took for his own pleasure, would he? He once told you that God sent you here for him, that God placing the pair of you in the same vicinity was no mistake. God does not make mistakes, he said. And He always has a plan.

You were His plan for Steve.

At least, that's what he told you.

"I can see why," he continued.

Your head moved on its own, and you were looking at the frown etched between his brows before you could stop yourself. He took glances every few moments as he headed away from the residence halls into campus. Few times they fell to your empty neck.

Your fingers ached to fiddle with the missing token. You hadn’t worn it in months. When you left home, you left the necklace on your dresser. It grew more and more difficult as the weeks went on—free of the Georgia heat and all that grey hazy because of it—to believe you were worthy of wearing the cross. Worthy of speaking to Him knowing what you’d done.

“Oh, Delilah,” he sighed and he shook his head out at the road. “You poor thing.”

He took a turn down the main strip of campus buildings and fit the car into a spot against the curb of your most-frequented. The ballet studio, unlike your splintered and rotting barb back home, nestled on the second floor of a red brick building home to the arts. Steve took his keys from the ignition and opened the door with the sureness of someone like you, who spent most of their days there.

“Come on,” he said when the passenger door was open.

You stepped onto the sidewalk, avoiding his outstretched hand. He placed it on the small of your back as he guided you up the steps and through the door. Your shoes, having collected the dampness of the pavement, squeaked over the gleaming tile. This hall always had a chemically lemon scent to it, and today it made you particularly queasy.

"Up here, isn't it?" He pushed the heavy door open to the stairwell and the steel latch echoed hollowly against the concrete.

His hand seemed to be locating your spine. Reaching for it, through the material of your cardigan, through the thickness of your flesh. The bone ached dully with every step upward. Around the chipped iron railings, winding through the twists of the building. His loafers were black and recently shined. He'd taken to wearing a gold band around his pinkie. His fingers were as long and slender as you remembered, but his skin appeared paler.

It was no longer summer and the cold was an affliction to the body.

Another door thrown open to another linoleum-tiled hall. You traced the black streak marks from boots and sneakers like a set path to the arched doorway to the studio. At the end of the hall, a large latticed window overlooked the yellowed lawn. Often after rehearsals, bundles of ballerinas squished within the bow of the windowsill and blew cigarette smoke against the glass. Permanent fog marks gathered at mouth-height.

The studio was empty. Four mirrored walls, ever-polished hardwood floors the color of sand. Barres cleaned of blood from blistered heels, and a cushioned folding chair near the head of the room, pressed against the mirror. It was the seat of Madame Celeste, the slender, wrinkled woman who commanded the company.

Today, it was empty.

You jolted when the wooden doors clamped shut behind you. The pressure in your spine released and when you turned, it became evident why. He stood before the doors with his hands behind his back, long coat unbuttoned to reveal the white band of his Roman collar. The black shirt of his permanent uniform remained buttoned to the top, snug against his throat.

He fixed his eyes upon you with the intention of a wolf.

Oh, yes. You remembered how this felt. It was almost as though you'd never left.

The blackness of your confinement began to close in around you.

He inhaled deeply and it whistled through his nose. Your own breath shuddered into the room. Madame Celeste did not believe in heat and kept the radiator off. Even when bolts of snow gathered on the window in the hall, the dancers were made to spin until sweat managed to appear. It never took long.

And now, a cold sweat festered under your sweater.

"I am fearful of what I see here," he proclaimed. His gaze left you to trace the room, taking a large step away from the door. The clunk of his shoe resounded like a gunshot.

"'What are you doing, you devastated one? Why dress yourself in scarlet and put on jewels of gold? Why highlight your eyes with makeup?'"

You swallowed as he began to pace the room. Hands settled against his back, one hand closed over the other. Each step like a bullet inching closer to your place in the center of the room. Each word like a slice against your flesh. Stinging, piercing, bleeding you out. He would not look at you and you grew smaller by the second.

"'You adorn yourself in vain,'" he emphasized, shaking his head down at his feet.

His hands had released to press his fingers together as they often did at mass. While he preached and prophesied, and chewed off more of your soul with every syllable. The room felt as off kilter as the chapel back home.

He stopped suddenly before the rear wall of mirrors and fanned his arms wide.

"Vanity!"

You stumbled back with another gasp. A vein protruded between his brows, eyes filled with serpentile venom.

"All this..." He spun slowly, a performative flair that rivaled even yours. His voice dropped to a whisper nearly drowned out by your own pulse. "...mere vanity."

He took a moment, eyes still trained on the mirrors behind you. The proclamation hung in the thin air of the room. Your fingers felt numb pressed into tight fists against your back.

He tipped his chin down and blinked at you. Slowly. There were no charming grins or sideways smiles. There was no softness to the beauty of his features.

“You’ve abandoned God.”

Your hand touched your bare chest. He tracked your movement with his eyes. Stepped closer. One, two—you could feel the warmth of him again. It buzzed in your feet. His proximity stirred a nausea in your gut.

“But I will save you,” he whispered, touching his hand to his chest.

His foot thumped on the floor. Another step. Inching his way to you. The gap between your bodies: shorter, shorter. You jerked backward when you could feel his breath.

He moved one hand your way, palm cupped and fingers bent as though approaching a kitten in the road. He hunched his shoulders a little, lowered a little closer to your eye-line. Every breath taken felt like a load on your lungs. Like at any moment they’d explode from the pressure.

“You will be saved,” he breathed.

The serpent had abandoned him, and its place was something dangerously soft. With warm, round eyes and cinched brows, he appeared transformed in a near instant.

How one gazes upon an infant in the cold. A thing to save. A token of helplessness.

Both hands approached you now, outstretched at shoulder length. You tipped your head away from his incoming presence, eyes squeezing shut when he took hold of your shoulders and spun you around. Every muscle in your body came to a cold front. They cemented together, and maneuvering your body felt like turning a mannequin.

“Kneel,” he murmured. “He wants us to pray.”

He guided you there, and your black tight-clad knees collided into the floorboards with a dull, painful thump. You kept your eyes shut, but heard another pair of knocks behind you. A mirrored vision of your kneeling, he kept arm’s length between your feet and his hands, now letting you go to retrieve the leather bound bible in the pocket of his coat.

The spine tapped on the floor. You could hear a nose drip in the silence. Your own blinks registered with tiny clicks.

“Our Father, who art in Heaven, hallowed be thy name.”

It was as though someone had scrubbed the inside of your mouth with sandpaper. With the vigor of a rusted pan and a woolite sponge, leaving the soft pink tissue of your inner cheeks and writhing tongue raw, useless, and scarred.

Your mouth could not utter the pastor’s words.

“Thy kingdom come, thy will be done on earth as it is in Heaven. Give us this our daily bread, and forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass us.”

His own voice was that of an instrument, hollowed with an echo that reverberated through your spine and around the room like a boomerang. Like whistling into a cave and waiting for the pitch to make its way back.

Your fingers curled over your knees and grabbed on tight. Every tiny bone in those ten ligaments began to ache.

“And lead us not into temptation but deliver us from evil. For thine is the kingdom, and the power, and the glory, for ever and ever.”

In the lull, his breaths were heavy. Shallow gasps rasped in the emptiness behind you.

He waited, and he watched. He watched your shoulders rise and fall, your toes curl against the thin suede of a pair of ballet flats. You left your new pointe shoes back in Georgia. Against your every attempt to banish him to the past, Steve wriggled through the gaps.

The pointe shoes came in the mail a month ago.

Steve inhaled sharply, and you squinted one eye open to find him in the wall of mirrors. His chest ballooned, head tipped back to the florescents. After all this time, this was the first you'd seen him worship.

“Our Father, who art in Heaven, hallowed be thy name," he began again, and you hung your head toward your knees with a wince.

“Thy kingdom come, thy will be done on earth as it is in Heaven. Give us this our daily bread, and forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass us.”

Tears stung behind your eyes. His Sunday Morning Mass bravado distorted every syllable of his prayer. Your eardrums quaked with the birth of a buzzing.

“And lead us not into temptation but deliver us from evil. For thine is the kingdom, and the power, and the glory- say it!"

The bible slammed into the ground with a thundering boom. Your entire body lurched forward with a shriek, setting forth the cry building in your throat.

Through wavering vision, you watched him crawl forward and hover near your shoulders. It took only a moment for to realize that the horrible whining sound was coming from you.

“F-for ever a-and ever,” you croaked, blinking hot tears into the reflection before you.

The pastor stood, towering behind you in the mirror. A menacing shadow, once more the serpent with fangs.

You sniffled, bubbling forth a pitiful hiccup when he placed his hand on your shoulder. His fingers danced over the bone for only a moment before they swept under your chin. He turned your face toward him, shoes thumping around your knees until he stood beside you.

You gave in to his wishes, allowing your gaze to meet those reptilian eyes.

It was only a matter of time before your weakness divulged. Only a matter of time before he sunk his teeth in again.

The slightest pressure pulled on your chin, just as he stepped back and held out his hand, palm upended.

Each blink came with warmth on your cheeks, every breath with fire in your lungs. You slipped your hand into his palm and pressed to your feet.

He lifted your hands, only gently cupped together. Gave his wrist the smallest curve, enough space between your bodies for you to twirl.

You pressed to the tops of your toes and spun just once. A complete rotation, heels pressed down once more. You were met with a vision of yourself before you: red-eyed and puffy, and holding the hand of the devil.

From behind you, he collected both your hands. Held them upwards, bent the elbows with another feathered pressure. You sank back to the floor with graceful repose. Every fiber of your being yawned for relief. The weight of his presence fatigued.

On the glossy floor, you knelt in your former position of prayer. He caught your eye in the mirror and smiled.

From the inner lining of his pocket—where the bible conjured from only minutes ago—appeared a chain of gold.

Unclasping the adornment, he swept it over your head and toward your throat. The pendant clung to your chest like a magnet, kissing your flesh in relief to be home.

You knew what it was before you could even find it in the mirror.

He clasped the chain around your neck and laid your hair back in place. Gently fluffed around your face, meticulously drawn over your shoulders. He watched all the while in the mirror, intently observing his own craftsmanship.

He pinched two fingers under your chin and nudged it downward. He tipped your head a little to the left. He bent the elbows a little more, placed your clasped hands on your right knee.

He stepped back.

Patted you twice on the head, and in the mirror, smiled.

“My lovely Delilah.”

He smoothed his hand down the back of your hair just once.

And there you sat, soaking the cross on your chest in tears.

Foolish girl. You can never escape the mark of God.

[wroteclassicaly]

Summary: The summer of 1996 is one of change. You don’t do well with change, and you loathe a forced move to Los Angeles for college. That is, until you meet Steve Harrington - the perfect guy, the charmer, or so you think. But things always find a way to unravel, don’t they?

Based off the 1996 movie Fear, I bring you my first ever Dark!Steve AU. Chapters will be posted on Fear Fridays!

Warnings: Language, smut, anal sex, vaginal sex, angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, stalking, rough sex, dark!Steve, drug usage, public sex, violence (not against reader), arguing, manipulation, oral sex, vaginal fingering, handjobs, and MORE (hah)!

Track listing:

Wild Horses (coming SOON)

Sugar Water

Heart Shaped Box

Creep

Zombie

Closer

Friday I’m In Love

Santa Monica

Right Now

Champagne Supernova

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

angel and evil steddie au where, for whatever reason, reader has put them on a sex ban/something of the sort, but one of them end up convincing her about ‘just the tip’. I think this could be both of them, but they slowly inch further and further in, swearing it’s just the top, but then u feel their balls fully pressed to u, and their only excuse is that ‘doesn’t it just feel so good/right though??’

A/N: i kinda went a bit crazy with this one, couldn’t just write a little blurb… the “just the tip” thing is just so nomnomnom yummy and i need it like i need oxygen. 

word count: 2022

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“Come on Y/n,” with yielding hands, Eddie carefully sat down next to you, “look, I know I fucked up, I am well aware of that,” he emphasized, “but it’s not fair for Steve,” he motioned to the creature sulking in the corner, staring out the cracked bedroom window, “he doesn’t deserve to undergo the same punishment, my punishment, I should take the full of it, not him,” he gesticulated, “fuck, I mean, just look at him. I think if you don’t do something now, relieve him even a little bit, he will just snap and trust me, you don’t wanna see that,” even from here you could see his ivory knuckles as the angel dug his fingernails into his palms hard enough to draw blood, “please, at least just kiss him a little bit.”

“Fine,” you huffed, snapping the angel out of his daze. Pointing a threatening finger towards him as he turned in your direction, “but you’re still not getting any, you got that?” you warned.

His stoic frown instantly melting away, he breathed out a soft smile, “got it,” slowly moving towards you as felt the devil crawl away. 

“I will just give you one kiss, alright?” your finger was still raised as he sat down beside you, his presents causing your arm to retract as he moved in closer. 

“Yep,” like coming up for air, his hands slid up to each side of your face, “one kiss,” and the next thing you knew, the angel dove in, and desperately pressed his lips against your own. 

Like a man starved, Steve didn’t let his touch falter for even a second, not even parting to catch his breath as his fevered kiss quickly grew out of control. His hands soon wandered all over your form, making you dizzy and causing you not to notice fully when he desperately tilted your body down, pressing you into the mattress with his own weight, just barely hovering above you as he attacked you with his ravenous lips. 

“O-okay,” you uttered weakly, his touch succeeding as usual in being extremely persuasive, “I think that counts as way more than one kiss,” your breath ragged as you turned your head for your kiss to be out of his reach.

Your legs naturally rested on either side of him, curled up and hugging his hips as he brashly melted further into you, letting you feel the previously only suspected tent in his pants press against your hot panties, your short dress haven ridden up completely. Ignoring your comment completely, he simply moved on to your neck as he began to grind down against you, needily scratching his itch and making your breath grow more wild. 

“Just a little bit more, please,” he croaked, smearing his plea all over where your pulse hammered on the side of your neck, “just give me a little bit more, sweetheart,” his fingers digging into your soft thigh for support as he rocked against the growing wet spot on your exposed underwear.

“Steve,” you tried to fight how your eyes fluttered closed, still determined to keep the disappointment alive, that you had taken out on the both of them, though your arms still reluctantly slid up around his neck and fervently grabbed onto his broad shoulders. 

Roaming a hand up to squeeze your tit, your nipples standing proud and visible through your thin dress, he purred, “come on, honey,” catching one of the pebbles between his fingers and tugging on it teasingly, causing your thighs to clench around his form, “I know you need this as much as I do.”

“Steve…” the rest of your words fell short as he raised himself up, hovering above you with his forearms strong on either side of your head, letting you stare into his breathtaking eyes. 

Looking down at you as if you were turning into his favourite meal, he continued, “and maybe this could be a way to up his punishment…” with a finger on your jaw, he tilted your head over for you to gaze at the devil, silently watching from the corner of the room, “just let him sit there and watch you get off, while he knows he can’t have you. Wouldn’t that make it much worse for him? Don’t you want him to learn his lesson? Don’t you want him to suffer?”

“I-… fuck, fine,” you gave up in a huff, him haven driven your mind so fuzzy that you couldn’t comprehend saying anything else, “but you are not fucking me,” you said firmly, “not with your tentacles, not with your cock, not even with your finger. You stay out of my pussy, okay?”

Victory seeping across his face in the form of a sly grin, he chuckled, “okay,” agreeing hazily as he dipped back down to catch your lips. 

Sneaking a hand down between your close bodies, you felt him tug your sodden panties to the side and rapidly after that heard him impatiently freeing his hard cock, a low sigh leaving his lungs as he felt the intimate contact of his throbbing length rest directly against your weeping folds, leaning his torso far enough back for him to get a good view. 

“Oh my god, what did I just say?” you groaned as he, with a grip firm at the base, swiped his leaking tip through your petals, pursing your pretty pussy lips apart for him.

“Don’t worry, honey,” he laughed, holding the soaked cotton to the side, hooked in his thumb, as he rubbed his length all over your cunt, relishing in your juices, “I’m not gonna put it in you. I just wanna feel you, please. It’s been so long.”

“Alright,” you rolled your eyes, “it’s been like a few days, a week max.”

“I don’t care, that’s still too long,” you sucked in a sharp breath as he suddenly tapped his heavy cock against your buzzing clit, making your whole body jolt in need. 

“Yeah, I bet if it was up to you, I would just stay like this,” you joked, “never go to school or work again, just let you two play with me for the rest of my days.”

“Is that a proposition?” he smirked, cocking his eyebrows and pinching your plump folds on either side of his girth, letting him fuck it and glide the bulbous head over your swollen clit. 

“Urgh,” you sighed, lifting your hands up and hiding your flushed face from him, “just shut up and cum so I can go back to studying.”

“Oh, yeah, you want me to be quiet all of a sudden?” you peeked down through your fingers and glanced at the sloppy mess he was making of you, “I thought you liked listening to me, listening to what you do to me…” he fucked his fist, angling his thrusts so he slid through your slick folds every time, ending each movement with a persistent nudge at your clit, “don’t lie, I know how much it pushes you over the edge.”

Maybe it was your abundant wetness causing his thrusts to go sloppy or perhaps it was just him being greedy and angling further down, accidentally catching your weeping hole on his way through your folds. 

“Oh my god,” you whimpered, just the sensation of him rubbing himself over your entrance made your legs quiver, “don’t do that,” you warned as it barely breached one too many times for it to have been accidental. 

“Oh, come on,” he flicked against your opening, purposefully getting caught every time, “what if it’s just the tip, huh? Would that be alright? I just wanna feel you squeeze me, even if it’s just the tip.”

Biting down on your lip, his teasing becoming simply too much, you let out a whimper and nodded your head meekly at him. 

The thing was, Steve was huge. There wasn’t any other way to put it. He was a powerful creature from beyond this realm and his assents made that painfully obvious. The tip of him didn’t just feel like the tip. The fat head was so big and staggering that it had your whole body just quit on you, the severe stretch being too much for it not to give out. It was always like that. It was so overwhelming that even just a whisper of him felt like he was rearranging your guts. If you didn’t look down, you never truly knew how much of him he had given you till you felt his pelvis rut against your clit and his tip bully your cervix. 

Pressing his lips against your own, he muffled your pathetic whimpers as he slowly fucked you with the tip of him, rudely yanking it out just to slap the heavy length against your puffy petals, filling the bedroom with the sloppy music of your need. 

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he groaned as you melted into the mattress, losing yourself completely to the moment, “missed your little holes so much.” 

“Don’t push in any more, promise me you won’t,” you panted, wiggling under his weight.

“I won’t, don’t worry.” he hazily shook his head, capturing your lips once more. 

“Promise me,” you turned your cheek to demand.

“I promise, I promise,” his empty answer rushed out as he continued to prod your needy little hole. 

Keeping his lips pressed against yours, lapping up your whimpering moans, he crushed you with his body in a way that made the rest of the world just fall away from under you, making your whole universe be just him, the agonising feeling of him bullying your opening, and his warm eyes staring back into your own as you melted into a puddle beneath him. 

“Fuck,” you suddenly exclaimed as all the air in your lungs was forced out, “you asshole!” the all too familiar overwhelming sensation of him reaching the end of what you had to offer, making you doubt if you were on the verge of cumming or about to punch him, “I knew you were gonna do that!”

Grinding his pelvis against your own, burying himself so deep that it hurt, he taunted, “if you were really so smart, then why did you let me?” relishing in the feeling of your cunt clambering down around him.

Trying not to give him the satisfaction, you muttered, “god, I hate you,” though your conviction was lost completely as his sudden and powerful thrust made you moan out in enchanted ecstasy. 

“Aw, I love you too, honey,” he chuckled, kissing your fuzzy features as he found his greedy rhythm, “doesn’t this feel so much better, though?”

“I can feel you in my fucking throat,” you gasped, a statement true of every time he had filled you up. 

Adoring eyes soaking in your every reaction, he growled in response, “exactly.” 

His hands then swiftly grabbed yours as they began to claw at his back, hauling them up above your head and locking them in his tight grip. 

“This pretty little pussy just needed to be stuffed,” he cooed against your lips, “it’s what she deserves,” his balls, dripping with your juices, slapped against your heat with every needy slam, “deserves to be treated like this,” he empathized with his hips, “deserves to be used,” he shifted his grip on your wrists, gliding up to weave his fingers with yours, “to be loved,” his nose rhythmically bumped against yours as he pushed you over the edge, “to be worshipped,” he fervently captured your lips, silencing the guttural cry that escaped as you trembled violently beneath him, soaking the bedsheets and gushing all over his cock.

Letting your eyes flutter shut, his gruff moans washed over you as your clenching cunt milked him of all of his worth. 

“Fuck,” he panted, forehead resting against your own as he insatiably continued to roll into you, sloppily fucking his cum even deeper and forcing it to spill out as your pussy clambered around him, “I love you so much…”

“You are so terrible,” you said light-heartedly as a dazed smile bloomed upon your blissed-out face, your brows swiftly knitting together at his excessive and relentless desire.

© 2023 thyme-in-a-bubble

[myosotisa]

Sex, Love, and Other Crazy Ideas - s.h.

ǁ  summary: Steve has always felt like he loves too much. Sometimes it scares him. But it doesn't scare you.

ǁ tags: smut. plot with descriptions of smut. kinda dark!Steve?? obsessive thoughts, possessive behavior, unhealthy attachment, but it's consenual. you accidentally cut your finger, so blood is mentioned. oral (f receiving), fingering, unprotected p in v, creampie, hickies galore, body worship, a small amount of bloodplay. no pronouns, no y/n, afab!reader, nickname for you is sweetheart. I... have no reasonable explanation for this. I don't even know what to say. Happy Sunday I guess

ǁ word count: 1.6k

The intensity of love had always been overwhelming to Steve Harrington.

They say love can make you do crazy things. Like throwing yourself in front of someone to protect them. Like a spouse doing something they dislike every day because they know their partner appreciates it. Like a mom suddenly finding the strength to move a car to save her child.

Love made Steve a protective, caring, possessive man.

Most of it was shown through his actions. Acting as a chauffeur for Robin and all the teens he "babysits." Going out of his way to help someone, especially if they are having a bad day. Planning small events for the people he is closest to, so they can all get together and have a good time.

But when you came along, it felt different.

You were kind, selfless, understanding. Compassionate and empathetic, sometimes to your own detriment. At first you actively resisted Steve's desire to wait on you hand and foot, but had learned to accept that it killed him to reject the affection. You told him time and time again that he didn't have to do all these things for you, that you just loved him for who he was. He told you that was just how he showed he loved you too.

Sometimes the intensity of his love for you turned sour. He had a jealous streak – could be paranoid about the intentions of people he didn't know that were with you. He never forced you away from people or kept you from events. Just kept a watchful eye and a mental note, sometimes sought reassurance that you were his and only his, and made sure no one ever got even close to hurting you.

He bought you a little necklace with his initials. Was nervous as hell to give it to you, worried about what you might think. But you were delighted, ecstatic even, and had started to wear it everyday. Even talked about getting him a chain or a bracelet that had your initials on it too.

That night he'd made you come you over and over again until you passed out from exhaustion. Had fucked you into sweet oblivion. And the whole time, that necklace slid across your skin. The only thing you wore. That little piece of metal that said you were his.

He'd fidget it with it sometimes – fixing the chain so the clasp was behind your neck, rubbing the S between the tips of his fingers absentmindedly when you sat in his lap. You thought it was cute. Enjoyed the feeling of being his and how proud he was to be yours.

Sometimes the intensity of his love for you overwhelmed him. He wanted nothing more than to keep you in his bed forever, 24/7 spent with your skin on his. Wrapped up tight in his arms, or your thighs trembling as they pressed into his ears, or his cock buried deep in your warm, wet, perfect pussy until the end of time.

It wasn't a realistic thing to want, of course. But a man could dream.

And he dreamed often. Fucking you until you passed out every night you would let him. Waking up from a dream about you that had him sliding under the sheets, parting your beautiful thighs, and worshipping you awake. Begging you to let him taste you, sometimes on his fucking knees, steady and loving hands squeezing at your waist and hips as he pleaded.

You hardly ever denied him. Tried your hardest to take care of him in return, even when he insisted he wanted nothing more than to make you feel good.

After too many times having to go out into the world with a mosaic of bruises along both sides of your throat, you'd had to put some boundaries up. No hickies in visible places. He'd whined and tried to bargain but you were steadfast.

Fine. He'd litter you with little loving bruises in spots only he would be able to see. Scarlet paintings along your thighs, your collarbones, your tits.

One night, he'd already been sucking and biting bruises into your skin for what felt like hours. Determined to turn your skin into a constellation of pink, red, and purple with his mouth. A devotee that wanted nothing more than to worship every inch of you.

He was hyper focused on a spot on your chest – drawing the skin between his teeth and then soothing it with his tongue. Over and over as blood drew closer to the surface, warming as the blood vessels popped and the mark bloomed.

It was like he could feel your heart beating beneath his lips, like maybe if he used his teeth in just the right way, he could break the surface of your skin. Free some of the blood from your veins, the very life force of your being, and consume it until the wound stops bleeding.

He didn't want to hurt you. No, never wanted to hurt you. But the idea of consuming you, of possessing you so thoroughly, made it seem like a little bit of pain might not be so bad.

It was not an urge he ever acted on. Scared of scaring you, scared of what it meant that he wanted to do that. But he just couldn't help it. He loved you so much that he didn't quite know what to do with himself. It was like he wanted to live beside you at every moment, live inside you. He wanted to crawl under your skin and stay there permanently, or maybe have you crawl under his instead.

The need to possess you entirely sometimes made him act without thinking.

He heard a surprised gasp from the kitchen, followed by a pained hiss. It took mere moments to reach your side, ready to protect you, to make sure you were safe. The kitchen knife was abandoned on the cutting board, your hand cradled to your chest.

"Lemme see, sweetheart," he held out his loving hands with concern. You gingerly showed him the wound – a clean slice on the tip of your index finger. Not too deep, nothing too dangerous, but enough that it was steadily leaking blood on your skin. "Let's go get you cleaned up, okay?"

And you nodded, allowing him to lead you to the bathroom, standing dutifully by as he procured the first aid kit from beneath the sink. He gently took your hand in his own, marveled at the feeling of your skin on his, at the difference in your hands. Still enough to distract him after all this time.

But you were in pain, maybe even a little scared, and he had to focus.

After warning you that it might sting a little, he carefully cleaned the wound, cooing apologies and murmuring how good you were doing as you winced and tried not to pull away from it. Once he was satisfied, he went to retrieve a bandage but was stopped short when he turned back to look at you.

You were looking up at him with reverence, with comfort, with love. Like he was all you wanted and more. Like he was the only one who you trusted to make you feel better, like he was the only one who could heal you.

His breathing hitched in his chest. You were looking up at him with pleading, devoted, wide eyes, your cut had started to bleed just a little bit again in his hands, and he was struck with the overwhelming urge to swallow you whole.

To consume you – body and soul.

He didn't think before he brought your hurt finger up to his lips. At first he pressed a gentle kiss to the wound, loving and apologetic for the pain you had endured. When you melted into a sweet, syrupy smile, and when he licked at his lips and tasted just a touch of iron, he took the tip of your finger into his mouth and sucked.

You gasped, eyes wide and lips parted. He held your finger there, gently, and searched your face for some sign of concern or maybe even disgust. Surprise was there, plain as day, but nothing that looked negative. You didn't pull away, didn't move, barely breathed.

Experimentally, he laved his tongue over the wound. Bursts of metallic blood spreading across his taste buds as he did so. And he thought maybe he was hearing things when you whimpered.

When you made that noise again, his cock throbbed so hard in his jeans he thought he might've spontaneously came in his pants.

And while you had questions, and he had just a little bit of shame circling in his thoughts, it didn't matter right now. Not as he let your finger fall from his mouth, lifted you up onto the edge of the bathroom counter, and fell to his knees between your thighs like a man possessed.

In the following hours, dinner long forgotten, he took you apart thread by thread. Made your body shiver, shake, and seize. Praised you, lovingly degraded you, claimed you, pleaded for you to scream his name. Filled you to the brim with his cum, used his fingers to fuck it back into you until he was ready to go again. Which never took long, not with how you looked up at him like he hung the moon and stars in the sky.

That night, he broke his record for the amount of orgasms he had given you in a single day. And still held you as you passed out in his arms and felt an itch beneath his skin that begged for more.

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thanks for reading! please reblog and leave a comment if you liked it, they mean the world to me <3

and yes, I will be bringing this up in therapy tomorrow

[dearramiel]

𝐓𝐚𝐠, 𝐘𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐈𝐭 | 𝐒𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐨𝐧

✧ - fluff in the beginning of the story, will eventually get dark, undertones of off setting steve, he's kinda stalking her in the beginning, anxiety/paranoia, steve is 28, reader is at least 21, yes I want to be steve's housewife(a lot of those undertones are present throughout the story so steve has a housewife kink), we listen to stevie nicks and honestly it was by pure coincidence, domestic vibes,

You look beautiful..

In that cute little dress, you'd make the prettiest housewife in town, if you'd just let him in. But all he can do is look, as you walk down the driveway of your house, a little empty basket on your arm. He figures that you're running Saturday morning errands. He shuts the blinds of his window, quickly running out of his own house.

"Y/n!" His voice calls out to you, you whip your head around and spot Steve Harrington jogging towards you, car keys in hand. The rattling of his keys come to an end when he catches up to you.

"Steve, Good morning!" You greet, your voice melting his insides.

"Morning, Sweetheart." He says, trying to ease his nerves when he notices the visible reddening on your face, or the way your smile gets bigger.

"Heading out to the markets?" Steve asks, to which you nod.

"I need to pick some stuff up for dinner today." You reply.

"In that little thing?" He motions to the basket.

"Well I'm only making something for myself, my mom and dad are out on vacation.." You giggle, "Unless, you want to join me?"

The older male is a little shocked, is that even a question?

"I don't wanna bother, but I also wouldn't want a little lady like you to be all alone." He grins. "How about I drive you there?"

The next two hours were spent with you trying to politely decline Steve paying for your groceries. You couldn't deny what it made you feel. You felt like you and him were together, walking around the market places as you picked fresh vegetables and canned goods, shoulders bumping by accident, accidentally brushing your fingers against his, even eying a dress.

All which Steve noticed, encouraging you to try them on in a makeshift dressing room that looked to be an extra storage room, mirrors in place where you could twirl in the dress. After deciding on a couple, you step out, showing Steve who was sat on a chair.

"What do we think?" You say, "it's a little long but maybe I'll grow into it." You joke. Steve doesn't speak for a solid second or two, his heart is racing because you look gorgeous.

"I think you look amazing. You should definitely get it." He smiled, looking at how it hugged your upper body, hoping one day he would see underneath.

"There's another, but I'll save it for later." You say, twirling another time to really show him everything. And again, he's nearly speechless.

"I'll be back." You say, going into the room to change back into your own dress. Carefully untying the little bow, blushing when you remember Steve's face.

Once out, you see Steve with the old lady, the owner of the shop. He's smiling to her as he gently pushes her hands full of change back to her, where she then bows her head to him, smiling ever so gratefully. The act is enough to make your pulse pick up, she hands him a bag big enough to fit the articles of clothing on your arm.

Steve noticed you close the door of the dressing room. "Here." He opens the bag, to which you then put everything in.

"You didn't have to, you know ..pay for it.." you say, feeling bad that he's practically been spoiling you all day. You weren't fortunate to have the money he did, and you definitely didn't want to make it look like you were trying to take advantage of his generosity. Most of what you did have was hard earned money coming from your parents, the house you lived in from your grandparents. It's why you pushed them to take a vacation for themselves.

"Don't worry your pretty little head about it, besides, I think that little dinner will make up for it." He suggests, a sweet smile on his face. You return it.

"Well, thank you for doing this." You play with your fingers, forgetting that he's holding everything. And he doesn't mind because it plays more into his fantasy.

"It's really not a problem."

It's 12 p.m by the time you get back home, Steve has walked you to your front steps, promising to stop by at 6:30 for dinner with you. The thought has you excited, almost throwing yourself into the shower before remembering that you already had, prior to stepping out.

After the excitement settles down, you realize that an unsettling feeling begins to wash over you. Being alone in a big house comes with perks like those, paranoia.

It leaves you feeling unnerved, and it's hard to shake off. It's not the first time you've felt this way, but it's also never been so intense.

You figure that the only way to ease the tension that begins to weigh down on your shoulders is by putting a vinyl into its player. A sense of relief comes down as Stevie Nicks plays throughout the living room, spilling into the kitchen. It helps just enough that you're able to focus on what you want to make, especially now that you want to impress Steve.

You settle on spaghetti and meatballs, after that, a pie to go as dessert.

1:00 p.m. becomes 2 p.m., which becomes 3 p.m., 4 p.m, and then 5:30 p.m, cleaning, cooking, and baking had you distracted, you wash your hands before quickly rushing upstairs to your room, bag in hand, the dresses Steve had bought you now on your bed. You figured that wearing the one he hadn't seen you in would be perfect.

You weren't sure why you were trying to impress Steve, maybe it was the growing crush you had on him, whatever it was, it began to make you feel a little insecure. Trying to live up to his standards, he was known to have any woman wanted, and they were usually really pretty.

You shake away your nagging and negative thoughts, choosing to put on very light makeup, a little bit of eyeliner, lipstick, blush, and eyeshadow, going for a natural look.

You slip out of your dress, embarrassed as you think about also changing your undergarments. It's not like Steve would see you in your underwear anyway.

But.. just in case...

You pick out a matching white lace bra and panties set, then slipping the dress on. You button up the dress, until you reach the last two buttons, leaving a very visible sight for your cleavage. Your chest on display, collarbone showing. Your hair is simple, a low messy bun with some loose hair scattered everywhere aside from your face. By the time your done, it's barely 6:15 p.m, giving you 15 minutes to yourself. With those spared minutes, you slip into your black flats, hanging the other dress in your closet, walking to the kitchen, serving two plates of food, two cups of water, and taking the pie out of the oven, setting it on the counter for it to cool off.

Setting the plates and cups on the table, you're finally done.

Then the ring of the doorbell has your heart jumping out of your chest. You smile and pat down your dress, quickly rushing to the door, opening it swiftly, face heating up when you see him.

Steve Harrington in a suit, holding roses in one hand, the other in his pocket, and you can tell that he's nervous.

He's not moving, stuck in a trance as he looks at the dress you're wearing, down to your legs, before looking back up to your face. An innocent smile on your pink lips, Steve finally moves.

"Hey Sweetheart."

[cream0fwheat1998]

Girl from the Band 1 (Yandere!Jason Carver x Band Geek!Reader)

WARNINGS: dark, yandere, non-consensual intimacy (next chapter), maybe death (haven't decided yet), violence

This was random but honestly I think Mason Dye is a very handsome man so I really wanted to make a Jason Fanfic

Alternate AU but still 80's, No upside down fantasy stuff.

(Y/N) held her trumpet at attention while during the anthem which was sung by a previous student that has since graduated. Y/n rolled her eyes; she remembered Tammy Thompson from a science class long ago.

"This girl has no talent, why are they letting her perform?" y/n said under her breath but a laugh to her left caught her attention.

Robin Buckley shook her head with a smile on her face. For some reason, this made y/n feel warm. She was happy that she had made someone smile, even though she barely knew Robin and Robin's group of odd-ball friends outside of band.

How weird that Robin hung out with Steve Harrington; a man that graduated last year but still hang out with high school kids. Y/n shook her head, feeling sour at her own bitchy thoughts. People are allowed to have friends and just because she didn't have any, didn't mean she could judge everyone else for it.

When the game ended, all of the Hawkins Students fled to the courtroom to celebrate with the Basketball team on their win. Specifically, everyone cheered for Lucas Sinclair who'd made the winning shot and even though Y/n wasn't much of a participator; she found herself cheering along with her classmates.

It was until an object bounced infront of her, pulling y/n out of her own daze. A basketball had flown its way to her and one of the players rushed to her to collect it.

Jason Carver was a handsome guy. A classically handsome highschool athlete you'd see in any John Hughes movie. Y/n felt her cheeks warm at the thought of him coming towards her, looking her in the eye. It was an intimate feeling that she wasn't use too. She felt weak not wanting to look him in the eye but felt she lacked the type of beauty he'd want to look at.

"Sorry about that; it's the championship game-ball and we lost it in the celebration." Jason said, grabbing the ball from y/n's feet.

His voice was deep and warm; his damp hair sticking to his moist skin reminded her of a model posing by the sea. He was a dream and she lived in reality.

"It's okay." Y/n said, staring at the ground. She didn't feel like making eye contact.

Jason chuckled while heading back to his team; he'd seen this girl before but had no interest moving forward; his girlfriend was the queen of Hawkins High anyway. Chrissy Cunningham. For some reason, she was nowhere to be seen since the ending of the game.

The following week, Y/n had noticed Jason's demeanor change. Once a confident, prideful man to callous, irritated ass. You'd think he'd be at his best since the big win but instead he's acting like he lost completely. In Jason's perspective; he did.

Chrissy Cunningham had been hand in hand with one of Jason's basketball friends down the hallway. Clearly, they were still in the honey moon stage of their affair. It wasn't an adult kind of affair; Chrissy had broken up with Jason the night of the game for someone who'd swept her off her feet in his absence.

Y/n kept her opinions to herself, even during lunch when the loud whispers from all the lunch room increased at either Jasons or Chrissy's appearance. However, even with an increased attitude Jason kept his cool. He had to; his reputation depended on it. Sure, his first real love tore out his heart and stomped on it on what was supposed to be one of the happiest days of his life; but he considered himself the man of the school. He'd be damned if he didn't hold his head up high and looked for a replacement soon.

If Chrissy could move on within seconds, so could he. He felt himself getting heated; looking at the other girls in the school. While they werent Chrissy, he knew he could find someone to love him just as much. There were 2 obstacles;

There was only 1 Chrissy Cunningham.

He'd have to pick someone who respected his position as top-dog but it seemed like most of the girls in school were laughing at him now.

It was Study Hall. Y/n had been planning out an idea. She didn't want to graduate this year without doing something new and had been researching DnD for the past few months. There was a Dnd club called Hellfire ran by an eccentric classmate of hers' Eddie Munson. Yeah he was cute too. But Y/n didn't WANT to think about that; she just wanted to do what she wants and then graduate. Don't cause attention, don't put yourself out there. Those were her rules.

However; it wasn't up to her to not stand out as Jason Carver had remembered her genuine shyness from gameday. It was cute and honest. So many girls in school pretend to be cool or bitchy to seem higher class without realizing that they were just unpleasant rather than interesting.

Looking at her, Jason really believed there was something there and was determined to make her his arm piece for the rest of the year. In the deepest parts of his mind he decided y/n had no choice.

part 2

[marvelobsessed134]

Domesticated

A/n: first Steve fic it doesn’t really have a plot but yeah.

Dark!Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

Warnings: mentions of smut, dub/con, murder, housewife kink, breeding kink (not really), pregnancy, Stockholm syndrome, reader is held hostage kind of lol, kidnapping, manipulation, both Steve and reader are 18 but still in high school.

Summary: what happens when Steve gets so obsessed with you?

It was a normal day in Hawkins, or so you thought. You were walking along the street to school. You’ve been on your own for quite some time now ever since you were 16 so the loneliness didn’t bother you.

Little did you know that Steve Harrington has been watching you for a long time now. Ever since you transferred to Hawkins High he couldn’t keep his eyes off you. You’re just so sweet and innocent. He’d love to have you as his pregnant, submissive little housewife.

And well, to pull off what he needed, he had to kill his parents. But it’s ok they never were around for him anyways. And he made enough money working two jobs to keep the house and such. Now all he had to do was get you.

And the perfect opportunity was right there, you walking alone by the woods. It was 7 in the morning and most people weren’t up yet.

You heard a twig snap and you looked in the direction it came from, seeing nothing. You shrugged and kept walking, maybe even a little faster than before.

You felt someone come up behind you with a cloth and you screamed before you saw black.

And now, you live in Steve’s house. Completely isolated. You don’t go to school anymore. But it’s ok school sucks.

Slowly but surely you gave into Steve and started to even fall in love with him. The dirty blonde couldn’t be happier. He loved coming home from a long day to see you vacuuming the floor, your hand resting over your pregnant belly.

When people asked where you were he just said you dropped out and are now living with him. And people can’t see you because you don’t feel well at the moment.

But finally at some point he let you go grocery shopping. You were so excited, looking at the small store as if it was Disneyland. You pushed the shopping cart down the aisles garnering look’s because you’re so young and clearly pregnant.

You ended up running into Nancy Wheeler and her mom.

“Y/n? Oh my god it’s been so long hi!” Nancy said happily as she hugged you. Her mom smiled but noticed your stomach.

Nancy did too, “Wow um, you’re very….pregnant.”

You smiled and rubbed an affectionate hand over your tummy, “Yeah.”

“Who’s the father?” Karen asked curiously.

“Steve. We’re getting married after the baby is born. It wasn’t planned but I love him and couldn’t ask for anything more.” You replied.

Her eyes widened, “Well…um I’m happy that it’s working out for you if you need any help let me know, I am a mother of 3 after all.” The pair quickly made an escape. Nancy got a lecture in the car about how to not end up like that soon.

When you got home, Steve jumped you in an instant and made love to you on the kitchen floor.

[mochiroreo]

Oh goodie! (Teaser)

18+ MINORS DNI.

Pairing: Older!Eddie Munson x innocent!nerdy!reader (afab!reader) x Older!Steve Harrington

Summary: being a latchkey child, you are used to being alone. So when your parents announced that your whole family is moving to Hawkins, you paid them no mind and just packed up your bags. What you are not expecting was that the house that your family just bought comes with two neighbours that are in dire need to have you in any way.

Trigger Warnings: she/her pronouns. DUBCON. NONCON. 100% FILTH. Smut. Unprotected P in V (wrap it before you tap it). Hidden relationships. Age gap. Cream pie. Size kink. Degradation. Corruption. Choking/slapping (in a pleasurable way). Pet names (no use of y/n). Fingering. Squirting. Overstimulation. Public sex. Recording. Dark!Steve Harrington & Dark!Eddie Munson

Author’s note: English is not my first language and I might have not proofread this- sorry if the warning is long already! It might be longer as I am adding more as I go with this whole fic. Let me know if I missed anything though, my sweets! 💜

“Come on,baby.. Come on. You can do better than that.”

A pair of hazel eyes mixed with hints of green stares at you in awe, cooing on how you try to speak without being a babbling mess. You can feel the slow hum of wind outside from the window, the only thing cooling you right now despite it being humid, your skin feeling sticky and coated with a light sheen of sweat. The man fixed your glasses that now sat crooked on your nose after tucking some loose strands of hair behind your ear.

You tried to look at him without whimpering, taking note of how his arms look taut and firm as he fold it in front of his chest with the sleeves of his black button down folded. His thick, hazel hair that are now peppered with white strands which was styled earlier is now unkempt. He is sporting his own glasses that sat handsomely on his face. His features are breath-taking. As if the angels took their time to make him, if only his eyes were showing softness instead of desire. Lust. He was clearly watching you with amusement, trying to take all of you in.

Smack!

The sound was sharp and bounced on the walls before another one came.

Smack!

“Look at her,Eddie. Isn’t she the prettiest? You are.. aren’t you?”

Plump, soft lips found your cheeks, trying to kiss your tears away as they pepper both of your cheeks with light kisses. The said man kept on thinking how they manage to get such an angel in this situation. Desire pooling his crotch at all the sinful things he wanted to do to you.

“She is, Harrington. She is..” A gravelly voice answered him. You tried to look up at the man that just spoke but another smack landed on your ass cheek. You squirmed under his hold, rubbing your thighs for a reason that you weren’t sure earlier but is now aware. You tried to deny how wrong the feeling is but you can only feel yourself getting wetter. Your thighs feeling stickier than earlier as you moan and sniffle. You keep on producing slick as your pussy clench on nothing. Suddenly, your clothes feel a bit tight with how warm it has gotten.

“Would be the most perfect girl if she can only count properly. She already forgot how many she was supposed to count, s’keep on moaning.” Eddie snickered, teasing you. He landed another smack before groping your sore flesh.

“Please..” you pleaded, looking back at the man that is currently holding you down and massaging your sore skin. His long, wavy hair is now tied in a messy low bun. Big, brown doe-eyes sparkling with mischievousness. His pale-tattooed arms holding you down firmly. You kept your eyes on Eddie’s face, drinking him in and his soft features despite landing blow after blow on your sore backside. Hissing when you felt his cold rings land where he smacked you, you let out a sob. You felt tired but also intoxicated as if your senses has been heightened. Your eyes were fluttering, eyelashes kissing your rose-coloured cheeks because of the warmth of Eddie’s body and the hot summer air of Hawkins.

You really don’t know how it started. How you ended up being bent over Mr. Munson’s and Mr. Harrington’s lap. Both men were taking turns at first on smacking your ass cheeks and squeezing it while making you count loudly, Steve’s fingers ghosting your clothed cunt that were slowly dampening the thin material of your underwear. While Eddie is whispering how you are just made for the both of them. You squished your cheeks on Eddie’s thigh, your mind slowly blurring the events.

[ghostofacraving]

Rlyyyyy wanna see some dark!Steddie where reader sleeps with Steve and stalker/yandere/toxic bf Eddie finds out and makes reader let him check their holes. Ofc Steve has a breeding kink so he came inside and Eddie is PISSED. just rails them while choking them out n every now and then he lets up saying smth downright diabolical

“you’re lucky I love you baby, if you were anybody else I’d fuckin kill you”

“Hold still, I’m not even started with you yet. Gonna fill you up over and over, make sure mine’s the one that sticks. You want that, right? Tell me how bad you want me to ruin you for everyone else”

[ameliora-j]

hey baby!!! okay so i love this twisted tuesday idea you have!! Ive never sent in something like this i hope im doing this right, but can we have a little smutty stalker!steve blurb ��👀👀

hi angel!! you did it right,, but for next time add a scenario :)) i goctchuu tho i love stalker!steve

𐐪𐑂 it’s twisted tuesday ! send in ur dark au requests :>

content: nsfw, masturbation (f!receiving), cumplay, degradation, stalker!steve, ALL ACTS ARE PERFORMED BETWEEN CONSENTING ADULTS! THIS POST IS 18+ MDNI!

𐐪𐑂 𐐪𐑂 𐐪𐑂

you know how bad i want you… steve’s voice rang in your head as you read his handwritten letter to you. it was covered in a weird, slimy, sticky substance. you were straddling your pillow, rutting your hips against it in the sweatshirt steve had given you earlier. he’d come out of nowhere, truly.

you were standing in the bleachers with your friends, shivering violently, teeth chattering loudly. you’d worn a skirt and a small crop top and were regretting it now in the brisk november. the wind was whipping hard, frost biting at you cheeks when suddenly… steve appeared.

“christ, yln, ya look like ya freezin your ass off” he tsked softly. “why didn’t ya cover up petal?” he frowned.

“d-didn’t… didn’t think it’d be s-so… c-c-cold” you stammered, teeth still clanking together loudly, causing the sensation of vibrations to flow through your jaw.

steve frowned deeply, you looked like you were close to tears—and if there was one thing steve hated, it was seeing his pretty princess cry. “here, sweet thing” he murmured, shuffling the sweatshirt he wore under his jean jacket off of his body and over your head.

“thank you, stevie” you’d murmured, smiling as you leaned into him for more warmth… you wear those slutty little skirts for me. you know i can see your little ass cheeks peeking out of them. and you know how much it turns me on, slut…

you gasped as you continued to read the letter, gyrating your hips against the curve of the pillow. you pushed the hoodie flush up to your nose, causing butterflies to swim in your tummy and your heart so skip a beat. you looked at the clock, then at your window. steve would be there any minute. you knew where her hid, but he was unaware you knew. in truth, you enjoyed his attention. having your own personal little pervert.

you saw the trees rustle and smiled as steve appeared in the window. this is where the real show began... i see you every night, grinding on your little pink pillows, whimpering and whining like the pathetic slut you are…

you stuttered over your next breath, reaching climax quicker than you had anticipated. your hips developed a mind of their own, chasing your orgasm clumsily with no rhythm… i want you to do me a favor when you cum, sweetheart. rub my dirty perv cum all over your face and smile for the camera. i know you know where it’s at…

that last line sent you over the edge. you gripped the pillow tightly, your hips bucking wildly against it. your pushed your fingers into your mouth, licking and lapping at his cum that was dripping down them as you looked at steve through the window.

you registered the flash of light, and smiled knowing that you had a new cum stained picture to look forward to in the mail next week.