After Hell brought Horror to the Heartland, America’s dirt roads and open woods began to fall to rot and ruin. To prevent further inter dimensional slips, the government dispatched several workers, such as yourselves, to travel the country saving small communities.
Pairing: special agent!Steve Harrington x special agent!Reader
Wordcount: TBD - This fic is on-going, some long chapters, some blurbs. Think of it as a serial, episodic.
Warnings: very slowburn, coworkers to lovers, angst, hurt/comfort, canon-typical violence, canon-typical gore, weapons, fighting, murder, viruses, decay, monsters *See individual chapters for warnings.
I will be updating this fic whenever I feel like it.
This blog is 18+ only. I do not give permission for any of my fics to be duplicated, reposted, or put into AI. Thank you!
Navigation • Masterlist
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Moodboard • WIP Wednesday
Episodes:
00: Prologue - Western Montana
01: Firetower - Cascades
02: Home
03: Bewitched - The Bayou [Coming Soon]
Blurbs:
Beginnings
Halloween
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[Author's Note: This is my little answer to X-Files or Supernatural but in the Stranger Things universe. Think of each episode as like a monster-of-the-week, where Steve and his partner jet off to various areas of the US to stop the Spread of rot and kill demo-beasts. Thanks, as always, for reading. xo]
After Hell brought Horror to the Heartland, America’s dirt roads and open woods began to fall to rot and ruin. To prevent further inter dimensional slips, the government dispatched several workers, such as yourselves, to travel the country saving small communities.
Pairing: special agent!Steve Harrington x special agent!Reader
Wordcount: 922 - This fic is episodic.
Warnings: very slowburn, coworkers to lovers, angst, hurt/comfort, canon-typical violence, canon-typical gore, weapons, fighting, murder, viruses, decay, monsters *This chapter contains mentions of animal harm, blood, and vomit/nausea.
This blog is 18+ only. I do not give permission for any of my fics to be duplicated, reposted, or put into AI. Thank you!
Navigation • Masterlist
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Moodboard • Episode 01: Firetower
Blood shone in thick, dark splatters across a freckled cheekbone. It stuck his hair to his ear and his collar to his throat. It stained a shoulder. You watched it glimmer under street lamps, watched the clench of his knuckles around the steering wheel, watched the bob of his Adam’s apple as he avoided your gaze.
There was no point saying it anymore, the words exhausted their meaning a year ago, but it was true nonetheless. You can’t save everyone. You both knew it. It didn’t hurt less.
You mopped at the blood splatter on your own cheeks with a spare t-shirt to flirt a discount out of the motel attendant. He slid you a key on a novelty ring while Steve parked on the far side of the lot.
You’d set the phone on its receiver by the time he exited the shower. You rinsed bloody clothes in the sink and brushed your teeth and slipped into an oversized t-shirt. You couldn’t remember who it belonged to. Maybe you’d picked it up at a thrift store along the way.
“Owens?” He asked, voice gruff, eyes red. A claw mark dug into the flesh of his cheek, to the bone.
You reached into your duffle for the first aid kit to procure ointment and a butterfly bandage. “Sit.”
He sighed, but did as instructed, towel falling to his shoulder. He winced as you patted ointment into his wound. “Did he say where to go next?”
You nodded, pressing his flesh together until it wrinkled near his eye. “Small town in Western Montana. Locals think it’s the water supply. Park ranger called it in.”
“How far?”
“Eight hours.” You zipped the kit closed and wedged it back into your bag.
“Okay,” he muttered, tossing his towel into a corner near the sink. He stretched sore muscles with a groan, and you watched the bruise on his ribs bloom in greens and browns. The swelling was down significantly from two days earlier. “We’ll leave first thing.”
He meant first light. You glanced out a fogged window at the glow of street lamps. The vacancy sign buzzed bright red. The sky remained dark just beyond.
“Okay.” You sighed and toed under linens that had yellowed years ago.
Steve triple checked the lock and toted his bat from the nook near the front door to his bedside. Then, he pulled his lighter from his pants pocket and shook it to his ear. By the look on his face, it needed a refill. He placed it to the bedside table between you, just beside the Bible.
“Are you okay?” He’d asked it four times already, a compulsion you’d learned to ignore.
“Yes.” You knew better than to reciprocate, knew he wouldn’t answer you anyway. You had minimal sleep hours left. It wasn’t worth the fight. You can’t save everyone.
“I’m going to turn the light out.” He warned, sliding himself into his own double bed. A large hand reached beneath an orange lampshade and the room went dark.
The darkness was spotted orange and blue, and you fought back the images of Steve’s fists meeting and elderly man’s face. You fought back the screams that rang in your ears, the copper taste on your tongue, and that pang that lay permanent in your nostrils.
Steve shifted in his bed, springs groaning beneath his weight, and you honed in on him instead. Every night, you fell asleep to the steady in and out of his breath, the comfort of him an arm’s length away.
—
The ranger’s uniform matched the coffee and cream in your styrofoam cup. The confusion knit between his brows matched those of dozens of local law enforcement across this country over the last year. You flashed you badges and asked him to take a seat, and hours later you were holding your hand over your nose to mask the smell of decay.
The corners of Steve’s mouth pulled upwards in a grim apology, sipping his own coffee.
A room full of National Guardsmen looked aghast. There was no guarantee a burn of that size could stay contained. Half of the state could be up in flames by the end of the week.
“Better than the alternative.” You promised.
The Spread started on a cattle ranch north of town, the herd dwindling as calves and heifers slipped into cracks and broke legs and necks. A large crevasse rotted through a patch in the back forty, splitting the land down the middle from government land near to the rancher’s estate.
On the back side, it seeped into the river. Trees were downed and turned to mush and rot. Where once sat a hunting perch, now folded into a vat in the ground.
The Ranger had taken you up by four-wheeler, an excursion neither of you had been prepared for in slacks and blazers. You supposed those were hazards of the job though, wading through the remnants of a hillside in nylon stockings.
Steve rolled the cuffs of his sleeves up past his elbows to dive into the meat of a fallen tree. It came back green and gooey, but nothing had nest inside. Not yet, at least.
“You called just in time,” he wiped his hand on his pant leg and you dry heaved a little.
“So this… virus,” the Ranger gestured to the pocket of melted flesh, root to branch, “it can infect humans too?”
“If it festers too long,” you nodded.
“And what might that look like?” He asked like he already knew the answer.
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[A/N: Here she is. These two have been my new best friends lately, the one thing I've written that actually stuck because it felt good. Let's hope it stays that way so I can keep riding this train. I don't know how often I'll update this, but it'll be on-going. I'd love to write blurbs, and I have a few episode locations/monsters in mind.
I'd really appreciate it if you reblogged and/or left me a comment. Or if you're more inclined, head to my Ao3 and leave me a comment there. It'd really mean the whole world. xoxoxo]
A writing retreat at an exclusive 5-star ski resort. A New Years Eve party in the moody lodge bar. A handsome heir. A bratty bad boy. A snowstorm blocking every guest from the outside world.
Pairing: Rich!Steve Harrington x Writer!Reader, Eddie Munson x Writer!Reader
Wordcount: TBD
Warnings and Tags: Modern AU, femme!reader, strangers to lovers, angst, smut, voyeurism, fantasizing, longing, isolation, snowstorm, skiing, writer's block, murder, blood, gore, recreational drug and alcohol use. This is an 18+ blog, minor DNI please and thank you. Please check chapters for further warnings.
Navigation • Masterlist
Moodboard • Teaser • Snowed In Slumber Party Weekend
After Hell brought Horror to the Heartland, America’s dirt roads and open woods began to fall to rot and ruin. To prevent further inter dimensional slips, the government dispatched several workers, such as yourselves, to travel the country saving small communities.
Ranged - partner!Steve x Agent!Reader - After Hell brought Horror to the Heartland, America’s dirt roads and open woods began to fall to rot and ruin. To prevent further inter dimensional slips, the government dispatched several workers, such as yourselves, to travel the country saving small communities.
Hell Hound - Bodyguard!Steve x Photographer!Reader - Being FWBs with metal rockstar, Eddie Munson, is all fun and games until a dozen red roses show up at your door with a warning: Stay Away from The Devil or I will kill you. Despite your protests, Eddie appoints his personal bodyguard to keep an eye out for you.
Coming Soon
Spooky Celebration - f!reader x various ST characters - A series of spooky blurbs requested by readers
Late Checkout - Rich!Steve Harrington x Writer!Reader, Eddie Munson x Writer!Reader - A writing retreat at an exclusive 5-star ski resort. A New Years Eve party in the moody lodge bar. A handsome heir. A bratty bad boy. A snowstorm blocking every guest from the outside world.
A writing retreat at an exclusive 5-star ski resort. A New Years Eve party in the moody lodge bar. A handsome heir. A bratty bad boy. A snowstorm blocking every guest from the outside world.
Being FWBs with metal rockstar, Eddie Munson, is all fun and games until a dozen red roses show up at your door with a warning: Stay Away from The Devil or you will die. Despite your protests, Eddie appoints his personal bodyguard to keep an eye out for you.
The sun is out, and I feel better than I have in months, and I’ve been writing. Boy, have I been writing. I feel like I’ve got my sunglasses on, and I’m floating on an inner tube, sipping seltzer water with a straw, trailing my fingertips beneath me, and in my wake, floating along behind me, is just WIP after WIP after WIP.
None are finished yet, but sometimes you just get antsy to share about your ideas and just have to talk about them.
But please know that I’m taking it easy this time around. There will be no deadlines, and there’s no guarantee all of these will ever get finished, but know that I’m working on them and ruminating in these worlds, and I love them so much. And therefore, I’d love to chat about them. xoxoxo (Pssst, look under the cut. They're under there.)
Steve Harrington x Reader WIPs
Ranged - partner!Steve x Agent!Reader - After Hell brought Horror to the Heartland, America’s dirt roads and open woods began to fall to rot and ruin. To prevent further inter dimensional slips, the government dispatched several workers, such as yourselves, to travel the country saving small communities.
Hell Hound - Bodyguard!Steve x Photographer!Reader - Being FWBs with metal rockstar, Eddie Munson, is all fun and games until a dozen red roses show up at your door with a warning: Stay Away from The Devil or I will kill you. Despite your protests, Eddie appoints his personal bodyguard to keep an eye out for you.
Guilt - FBI!Steve x Vigilante!Enhanced!Reader - When the buzz of other enhanced individuals enters your city, you take up your watchful post. You intend to protect your city, this city that raised you, that cared for you, that healed you. Your efforts go unnoticed until a particularly nosy government agent catches scent of your trail. Can you stop the surge before the G-man stops you?
Untitled - Rancher!Older!Steve x UFO Enthusiast!Nomadic!Reader - You're looking for your dad in the stars, and nothing and no one can stop you, including the crotchety rancher who's letting you park your airstream on his land for a small fee.
Eddie Munson x Reader WIPs
The Boy is Mine (Amanda’s Version) - Eddie x Reader - Your sweet, sweet boy wrote some sweet, sweet love songs about you
Stuck - Wildfire!Eddie x Reader - Finally rid of the Vecna and all of his horrors, Eddie moved to Chicago. He had to get out, get away from the compound, from Hawkins, all of it. His fantasy novel is being edited, and he makes regular phone calls to the Harringtons, and on a Saturday around Christmas, he stumbles into a little music store two blocks from his apartment. There, he meets you.
Dearest - vampire!Eddie x Reader - Ms. Nancy Wheeler’s birthday seems like the perfect night for a get-together and gossip. You’re intrigued by the Stranger with the wolfish grin. Then, at the strike of midnight, tragedy strikes.
I’ve also been writing my novel, which I’m just calling my Camp Project, but you can find more information about it on my Writeblr, if you’re interested! I’m madly in love with my characters for that project. My group of 20-somethings in the 90s are so Robin, Steve, Eddie, Nancy, and Jonathan-coded.
I really, really can’t thank you all enough for all of your support over the last few years. You really have all pushed me to be a better writer, and you’ve helped me to really embrace and love my writing. I’m so happy about this little pocket of the internet. I love this community. xoxoxo
