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flayed!steve is always dubcon so please heed that warning!! this is a little sad on steve’s end which i did not mean to do but i think flayed!steve IS typically sad for him?? idk. i haven’t written him in so long. here u go anon
i am thinking abt a version of s5 steve that’s flayed…. he’s been so irritated and he’s pulled back from you a lot lately, which isn’t exactly new, but a little concerning. you don’t see him much anymore, though he does come around. always completely by surprise, usually past midnight, and incredibly insatiable.
he doesn’t talk very much. he’s always on you the instant you open your door with furrowed brows. you love these little meetings, how he touches you like you’re not going to break, taking handfuls of you and biting your lips like he wants to devour you. like he wants to chew you up and spit you back out, just to come back for seconds a few nights later.
what you don’t quite clock is that he’s coming inside of you. the moment he’s on top of you, clothes ripped from his cold skin, your mind tends to go blank. you get lost in his eyes, all dark and unyielding. by the time he’s fucking you, you’re hardly even on this planet. it’s almost like you’re on some other plane of existence… hmmm….
the only time steve talks is when he’s about to come. gritting through his teeth, mine mine mine. there are often tears in his eyes, too, the closer he gets. pressing his forehead against yours and muttering i love you, i’m sorry. you don’t understand what he’s sorry for, but you tell him you love him, too.
and once he finishes, he places a hand over your stomach, eyes cold again as he whispers ours.
when you see him next, he’s keen on staying away from you. his face pales and he looks like he wants to say something but he can’t. you don’t mind. he’s just going through so much. you’ll welcome him with open arms the next time he shows up for some comfort!!!
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
a chasm wider than hell itself by freneticbyzantium
There are just too few flayed!Steve fics in this world, don't you agree? Here is one that is working to rectify this - and it is Delicious. Because ... what if Steve AND Billy were flayed? What if what Steve is feeling towards Billy is some kind of unholy mix of real affection and a flayed!hive!connection? What if he turns against the kids in the Sauna scene, for Billy (or for the Hive? who knows, when it blurs together!)?
It is absolutely delectable and has an open ending with so many possibilities. My brain is buzzing with it, and my fingers are itching to make something more. I love it. You will love it too.
they close the gate earlier. the mindflayer doesn’t kill billy.
hawkins tries to end the job. hawkins and neil. each day billy stays in hawkins, he suffocates. he tries to keep it together for max. but he doesn’t think he can any longer. confesses so to steve, because they’re now the kind of friends to tell each other things they’d never tell anyone else. (son, king, protector, couldn’t be weak in front of anyone, but the one who’s their mirror image.)
steve gets billy out of hawkins. promises to look after max, to call him if things go to literal hell and they need a fighter. billy goes, to california. (becomes a brother to the girl that saved him, to the boy who knows what it meant to be a monster’s puppet. billy never wanted siblings but he’s learning to be happy with the ones he’s got.)
vecna happens. max doesn’t get targeted. she has letters but they’re letters from billy, updating her on the things he’s doing with his life, with the home he wants her to visit one day. steve doesn’t call. steve doesn’t need to because billy is with the cali gang, getting shot at, but it should still be noted. steve does not call.
billy would punch him for that, would kiss him for that, if steve would just open his eyes.
*rubs hands together and takes a deep breath*
I. Am. FOREVER UPSET. That they introduced two Californians to the plot................and then moved half the characters to California while killing said Californians. What the actual sdlfkjsldkfjslkdfjsd is that.
It’s a different kind of fear, the cold prickles that settle deep into the lining of each of Robin’s organs. The world throbs around her like an echo, and her head aches — her whole body aches. Beaten and sore from all of the bullshit, all of the running around and fighting, and she’s tired. So tired.
But none of that matters. Not when that familiar chill fills the air and a sickly dread sucks the air out of her lungs.
Not when it’s Steve.
For a while now, all memory of the asshole she knew back in Click’s class has been forgotten. Pushed aside. Gathering dust. Replaced entirely by the goofy, snarky guy with piss-poor flirting skills that she’s grown to love. Because it’s just so easy to love him.
The dark, looming figure before her, standing at the back door to Hell itself with an axe clutched tight in his fist, is not either of those guys.
She didn’t think that Steve’s face could look so angry. So hateful.
“Stevie,” Billy tries, raising his hands slowly and reaching out. “It’s okay. It’s gonna be okay.”
“What the fuck’s wrong with him?” Eddie breathes.
Clutches a hand over his abdomen, crimson seeping between each of his fingers and dripping down his chin. It’s staining Robin’s clothes from where she’s tucked under his arm, supporting his weight, but she ignores it. Watches carefully as Steve stands to his full height and steps off of the mattress with a creak.
“It’s the Mind-Flayer,” Robin manages. Takes a careful step back towards the door. “It has to be, right?”
“Steve, you have to fight it, do you hear me?” Billy says.
He dares to step closer. Extends his hands further, disregarding the rapid rise and fall of the brunet’s chest and the tightness of his jaw.
Even next to Billy, Steve suddenly seems to tower over everything. Suddenly seems so scary that Robin has to force herself to keep her eyes on him as they well with tears.
With a quick motion, he rears the axe back and takes a deadly swing, the handle catching in Billy’s grip with a painful thunk.
“Please, Steve—“
A left hook cracks across Billy’s jaw and sends him crashing to the floor.
“You think your pathetic ass stands a chance, Hargrove?” Steve hisses. Plunges the axe down and misses when Billy rolls out of the way, splitting the tile and letting go of the handle once and for all. “All of the pity fucks have really been going to your head, huh?”
He steps over the blond. Takes a fistful of his shirt and brings his knuckles down hard on the bridge of his nose. Snaps the cartilage and makes Robin sick to her stomach.
“Don’t listen, Bill,” Eddie rasps. “That’s not him.”
“Get out of here,” Billy pleads.
Catches another sock to the face and spits a mixture of blood and bile onto the floor.
“No.”
“We can’t leave you,” Robin protests.
“Get the fuck out and go find Nancy. Now.”
One more crack rips through the air and Robin has to clap a hand over her mouth to keep from vomiting, turning her face away from the gruesome display in front of her. It takes Eddie pulling her towards the doorway to make her head stop spinning.
“They always leave in the end, don’t they?” Steve muses. “Don’t worry, Billy bug, you still have me.”
He catches the fist that Billy tries to swing at him and drops to his knees, right over Billy’s chest, and pins his arms to the floor with an unforgiving grip.
“Fuck you.”
“Mm, I think I’ll pass. You’re not really my type.”
“I swear, when I get my hands around that slimy, disgusting neck of yours, I’m gonna wring it ‘till your fuckin’ eyes pop.”
The sickly smirk that splits across Steve’s face is almost inhuman. He leans down. Collects both of Billy’s wrists in one hand, pins them above his head, and lightly traces the cut of his jaw with his free hand. Almost lovingly.
Thunder roars in the distance. Billy can faintly hear the screeches coming from within the gate just a few feet away, and something else. Behind him.
The scrape of gravel and screaming voices — Dustin and Erica. All of the words are muddled in the background. Unintelligible.
“Y’know something, love?” Steve coos. So close that the cold puff of air on Billy’s cheek spawns goosebumps on his skin. “I still love Nance.”
“Bullshit.”
A hand wraps around his throat and he chokes as his windpipe is smashed between the tile and Steve’s unnaturally cold palm.
“It’s true. You’re nothing but a rebound that never got the hint to get out of my bed the morning after.”
“No,” Billy rasps. “You— you love me. You love Eddie. You say it so much that I almost get sick of hearing it, Stevie.”
“Y’know, now that you mention it…” The grip tightens around his throat. Makes Billy’s eyes burn as Steve’s lips brush against his ear. “Eddie’s my favorite. He at least has a purpose in this world, but you?” Fire spreads in his throat as he writhes helplessly. “Your only purpose is to die.”
“Steve— Steve would never say that.”
“Die believing a lie if you want, Hargrove. Save Eddie a spot, will you? I’ll be coming for him next.”
Black starts to overtake his vision, tunneling around the sadistic grin that looms over him. It’s funny because Billy still can’t help but think that Steve is beautiful. That he’ll be glad to see him soon, wherever he goes next. The real him.
There’s a click, and then a boom, and Billy’s lungs fill again.
Steve has fallen back. Clutches at his shoulder weakly, blood spurting between his fingers as he fixes a glare at the door.
Standing in the open doorway is Nancy Wheeler, revolver in her grip. The look on her face says that was a warning shot.
“You’re an idiot if you think we’ll let that asshole take you, Steve.” She pulls the hammer back with a click. Sets her jaw and furrows her brows. “Now come back to us.”
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summary: after steve struggles to talk to his boyfriend about what he's feeling, he finds out something in the upside down has a plan for him.
pairing: billy hargrove/steve harrington
content warnings: eventual flayed!steve, car crash briefly described, canon-typical violence, mentioned past abuse (billy)
word count: 3k
next part
The first time Steve feels it is when Hopper's new rule about him staying the night takes effect. The moment the feeling hits, however, his body is rushed with so much guilt that Steve can't even stay to fight the rule, barely managing to hug Billy before he's stumbling out to his car.
Steve called Billy when he got home, having recognized the look on the other boy's face. Though he was the toughest person Steve had ever met, he also have moments of so much pure vulnerability that made Steve want to sob. He knew this was one of those, so he didn't waste a single second to reassure him that he wasn't upset, that he was coming back, that fighting with Hopper about this wasn't worth it.
He pretended it made him feel better about the emotion that hit him in the cabin.
That particular feeling laid dormant in him for weeks. The pair got used to the new routine under Hopper's rule because the frustrated 'Kid, I don't have many rules to follow here so can you just follow this one?' was enough for Steve. He didn't want to be the reason this new good thing in Billy's life was strained. It was true they spent a lot of time together, especially after they'd both graduated and had endless time between work. This is a good thing, Steve told himself, Hopper actually gives a shit about Billy in a way his own dad never had before. It was important that this wasn't ruined because of him.
So he would come over after work, Billy teasing him about the sailor outfit only briefly before they'd sit down to help El with her studying. They'd watch movies, or go drive around if Johnathan was around to watch the kids (though Billy constantly argued that they were in middle school, and he was watching himself just fine at that age). Steve would have to remind Billy that everything was different now, after Will had been abducted into the Upside Down. After they'd all explained everything, Billy seemed to take the babysitter role seriously, often taking the kids with him to the pool or dropping them off at the mall with the promise that Steve would give them free ice cream if they had DnD night at the Wheelers' the next day so he and Steve could have the cabin to themselves.
And when the sun started to set, Steve would untangle himself from Billy and fight his way to his car, trying desperately to not be tempted by Billy's pleas to stay. But El had been begging Hopper to let Mike stay the night in the way Steve did, and even Steve could see the dangers in letting that line of thinking continue. So he left, with the promise to call Billy when he got home.
It was an okay system, he guessed.
And then, a month later the feeling returned.
Hopper came home early, telling Steve he needed to head out sooner than normal today. The Hoppers were having family dinner at the Byers house, and the pointed 'family' from Hopper reminded Steve just how much Hopper didn't want him there.
It wasn't that Steve was disliked. On the contrary, Hopper had let it be known in his own unique way that he was cherished by everyone in the cabin. He was good for Billy, he was one of the few who didn't try to talk down to El when she couldn't figure out something that the other kids learned years before, he didn't try to fight the rules like Mike fucking Wheeler did. It was just, he was around all the time. Steve knew Hopper thought his kids needed more space from their boyfriends, something about codependency or some shit.
"Steve can come to dinner, he's practically family," Billy pointed out, that glint in his eyes clueing Steve into the fact that he was willing to fight for this one. He was willing to fight for most things, when it came to Steve. That fact made Steve's chest burn in a way he wasn't willing to analyze just yet.
"Until there's a ring, it's actual family only," Hopper snapped, then turned to point an accusing finger at Steve as he began shoving his books roughly into his bag, "Don't get any ideas, Harrington."
"Wasn't planning on it," Steve choked out, eyes fixed to the tops of his perfectly white Nike sneakers as he finished packing, leaving nothing left to do but leave. He would leave and let his boyfriend enjoy the family dinners he deserved to have years ago.
He'd leave so the others wouldn't have to see the jealousy he was choking on.
"Call me tonight," he offered Billy, until images of the other boy leaving precious family time early to make that call happen flashed through his mind. It would be your fault if he missed out, he finally gets all this happiness and you're gonna try to steal it from him. "Or don't, have fun tonight. I'll see you on Monday."
Steve practically sprinted to his BMW, car door barely closed behind him before he was pulling away from the cabin. The mistake only became apparent when he got home, when he stepped back into the echo chamber he called a home. I'll see you on Monday. They always saw each other on the weekends, always. It was more of a dismissal than anything Hopper had given him, a cold sentence that chilled Steve's bones even now.
And suddenly, the empty house with nothing to offer him but too many shadows he could mistake for Demodogs was too cold, too barren, for him to stay. So Steve grabbed his keys from where he'd just tossed them into the little bowl on the side table. His hands shook as he reclimbed into his car, as he took off without any real destination in mind.
"I'm so fucked up," Steve hissed, hand smacking the wheel harshly as he drove the empty country roads. And he was, wasn't he? The feeling crawled up in his chest again, vines making their way through every inch of him until he wasn't sure where he ended and this jealousy began. Had there ever been a moment when he didn't feel this?
He and Billy had first made a truce over their shitty dads. 'Your dad sounds like an asshole,' Billy had helpfully supplied when a drunk Steve had lamented over the way his father had threatened to disown him if he couldn't get into college next year, if he didn't take the Scoops job. It hadn't always been easy between him and Billy, but they'd found a way to trust each other through nights at the Quarry, passing cigarettes and finally letting someone see a piece of their lives that both boys had kept close to their chests.
But then Joyce saw Neil hit Billy outside of Melvald's, and so began the process of Billy getting the family he'd always deserved, the family that Steve had spent many late nights wishing Billy could have had from the start.
And he was happy for Billy, of fucking course he was.
But now Billy had curfews, and rules handed down from a loving father with no real punishment if they weren't followed. He had so many siblings who loved him, and he had family dinners of all fucking things.
Steve couldn't remember the last time he actually had a dinner with his parents. They were usually gone for months at a time, only coming back if they found out Steve fucked something up bad enough. They'd come home late at night, barely unpacking their bags before his father was laying into him, throwing those words around that were scarred deep in his body. His mom would throw him that look, like she was so sad that this was how her only son had ended up. They'd stay the night and they'd be gone before Steve woke up the next morning.
It wasn't right, to feel any sort of bitterness that Billy got his happy ending. But fuck if it didn't hurt that he didn't get his own, that no one noticed that he still needed help even if there had only been one time his father laid a hand on him.
It had been when his father found out Steve didn't get into college. He'd called him worthless, a disappointment. He smacked him across the face, hard enough to leave a red handprint hours later. He'd never told a soul about it, not even Billy. It wasn't worth it to bring it up when he used to clean off the blood and bruises on Billy's body from Neil's heavy hand. Steve never spoke of it, and it never happened again.
Something flew across the road. Steve yelped, mind drawing to mind oversized dogs with flower jaws and too many rows of teeth. His hands moved on their own, twisting the wheel until he was flying off the road into a nearby tree. The impact was enough to shock all of the hurt and bitterness from his chest, leaving only physical pain, fear.
"Shit," Steve hissed when he brought a hand up to touch a stinging spot on his head, fingertips coming back stained red. He could see the large spidering cracks across his windshield, could see the tree limbs that smashed into his car's hood. He was damn lucky he survived, Steve thought.
But his car was fucked. He could tell that without even trying to start it, though his hands tried to turn the keys anyway without any luck.
He would need to call someone for help. Nancy had a newspaper thing that night, she was busy. He didn't want to intrude on family dinner, not when he'd seen the little burst of happiness in Billy's eyes that the other guy would never admit if he could help it. Steve didn't want to bother any of the kids with his problems, because it would only spread to their parents and shit he didn't need those looks turned in on him. He could already hear it. How could you be so reckless? What were you doing driving around in the middle of the night moping anyway? What problems are really so bad you couldn't deal with it, rich boy?
No, he could handle this on his own.
So Steve grabbed the bat that had a permanent residence in the trunk of his car and set off walking. It was a hot night, muggy in a way he hadn't been expecting. It wasn't long until the back of his neck was slick with sweat, hair matted down in a way he didn't even want to see but made his scalp itch.
Luckily, the old ironworks building came into view. He knew there was a payphone nearby it, after that time that Tommy and Carol convinced him to help graffiti it for fun. He could call the station maybe, get someone to come tow the car.
Just as his fingers were wrapping around said phone, however, something flashed in the corner of his vision. The thing had growled, the sound sending him straight back to the junkyard when he'd fought off that otherwordly creature because there was no one else who could protect those kids, he was the oldest, the stupidest, the most expendable.
Were the Demodogs fucking back? "Shit, shit, shit," Steve hissed, fingers mashing the buttons he'd memorized long ago. He hoped they were all still at the Byers house, hoped that someone would answer him.
"Byers' residence," Hopper huffed, and Steve could've cried with relief right then.
"Hop, it's Steve. I need t-"
"Harrington, I thought we agreed you and Billy need time apart."
"I know, I know, but listen i-"
"You can talk to each other in the morning."
"Wait, no, Hop!" Steve screamed, voice scratchy with the way the words tore from his throat. But it didn't matter, because he could already here the tones that signaled Hopper had hung up. He was well and truly alone.
So Steve did the only thing he could in the middle of the woods with that thing out there. He took a deep breath, tightened his fingers around the bat, and ran.
He ran to find the nearest cover—hands shaking as they ripped open the heavy metal doors of the ironworks building. It was dark and scary as shit in there, but it was better than standing in the middle of the small clearing just waiting for that thing to pounce. He knew how quickly those things could kill someone, knew how easily they could tear his throat out the second he was caught. No, hiding until the thing got bored was the best, the only, option here.
He could hide out all night if he wanted. Hopper would tell Billy that he called in the morning, and when Steve wasn't at the house Billy would come looking for him. And that's all there was to it. He could wait.
Except life never wanted to give Steve a break, did it? Because then something was wrapping around his ankle, and if Steve didn't know any better he'd say it felt slimy like a tentacle. It was pulling until he slammed to the ground, all breath smacking out of his chest and his nose cracking open as he hit the metal ground.
"Wait, no, no!" Steve screamed, fingers scrabbling to find purchase on something, anything, as the tentacle was pulling him further into the building, down some metal stairs into the basement. "No, fuck!"
The tentacle didn't let go, but when he was in the middle of the room it stopped pulling, allowing Steve to flip over onto his back in the hopes his lungs would refill easier.
It was a hope that was dashed the moment he saw what had grabbed him. It was a giant creature, a blob of something he didn't particularly want to think too hard about. One of those tendrils was right above him then, and before Steve could even realize what was happening it smacked over his mouth, the end sliding further down until he was sure he'd never breathe again. His only salvation was when his vision finally blurred and he lost consciousness.
Steve was somewhere dark. The red lightning clued him in to where he was, remembering it from those freaky ass drawings Will had made. He was in the Upside Down. "Hey, hey what the hell?" he called out, wincing at the shakiness in his breath. He didn't want to be here, he knew what kind of things were here and he didn't want to fight them. He wanted to go home to that god-awful empty house, he wanted to tuck himself into bed and sleep with all the lights on. He didn't want to be here.
When he turned, Steve came face-to-face with what could only be described as an army. What looked like hundreds of people, all just standing there. And at the front of them all? It was him, smirking with an evilness that Steve wasn't aware his face could possess.
"Who the hell are you?" Steve asked, unable to move away from this mirror image even though he desperately wanted to.
"I'm you," the other him spoke lowly, grinning as he took a step forward toward Steve. "At least, I'm you for now, while you help me build."
"Build? No, no fuck you," Steve snapped, "I'm getting out of here."
"And go where? Home to that empty house? Will you call the parents who don't love you? Or maybe you'll call the boyfriend you couldn't even look at tonight, because he was happy. No, I think you'll stay right here," the Not-Him spoke, stepping forward and brushing fingers over his cheek in a way that made shivers run through his body. This wasn't normal, this was so fucked in too many ways to explain. He just wanted to go home.
"You know why I know that? Because you aren't needed out there. Everyone else has a life they're building, and you don't serve a real purpose in any of it. You have purpose here though, Steve Harrington, you're useful here. So stay, rest while we take care of everything. You can do that, can't you?"
Steve wanted to say no. He wanted to scream and bang his fists until he woke up back in bed. But he didn't, he couldn't. All he could do was stand there while visions of everyone he knew enjoying their night flashed through his mind like he was a fly on the wall for all of it.
Dustin, Mike, Lucas, and Max all in the Wheeler's basement watching movies that Nancy must have rented out for them. Nancy, sitting in the Hawkins Post office building hunched over something. Tommy and Carol out at a party, trashed and dancing to one of Steve's favorite songs. His parents, at some fancy restaurant sipping wine in Chicago.
Then Billy, sat around a table with Hopper, El, Will, Johnathan, and Joyce. He was actually laughing, the skin around his eyes crinkled with the joy.
No one knew he was here. No one was missing him. He would have spent tonight in that cold empty house anyway, what was spending a night being cold and empty here?
"Fuck you," Steve whispered, unable to fight the tears that slipped from his eyes. He didn't fight as this Other Steve stepped through him, merged with him.
Okay but like this song got me thinking of flayed!Harringrove but like hypersexual vibes🚬😜😈 or ugh.. killer if that’s ur thing cause flayed bechs do be like 🔪🩸
Also gonna jus leave this urban dictionary definition of “Pearl necklace” here cause the “one by one hung on my necklace” gives the air of hinting to that(for those who don’t know)
