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sp0o0kylights · 9 months

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Part One / Part Two (You are Here) / Part Three

A03

Hopper had undersold Harrington's condition.

Wayne hadn't expected anything pretty, but the face that turned to them as they walked through the door almost had him freezing in place.

Black eye, bruised chin, split lip.

More and more bruises, some faded and some very new, trailing down the kids neck.

The rest was hidden by his preppy little polo shirt, but Wayne didn't doubt that there were more.

Harrington tried to stand when they entered the room and the way he moved--entirely unbalanced, clearly in a lot of pain--made Wayne think the only thing the kid really needed was a hospital.

Because Steve Harrington hadn't just been beaten.

He'd been tortured--and very recently strangled.

(Abruptly, Wayne realized that Hopper had implied the boy had been in the mall fire--just as much as he implied the mall fire was anything but.

He also hadn't stated how Harrington had escaped the Suites trying to break into his house.)

"Sit down." Hopper commanded, and Wayne expected Harrington to do anything but listen.

Say something cocky, or act the part of a demanding little shit maybe, despite the condition he was in.

Instead the kid just sighed in relief and dropped like a stone, right back into the chair.

Hopper came around his desk, talking all the while. "Steve, this is Wayne. Wayne, Steve."

"Hello Sir." Steve croaked politely. His voice was wrecked, no doubt from the necklace of finger shaped bruises around his neck.

"You're going to stay with him for a while, and you're gonna pay him for the privilege." Hopper informed him, as he began digging around his desk. "Money, chores, whatever Wayne wants."

Wayne held his gaze as Steve turned to appraise him.

Would Harrington pitch a fit?

Would he look at Wayne's work clothes, streaked with dirt and sweat, with the name of the warehouse embroidered in the corner and crinkle up his nose, just like his daddy did?

Hopper didn't lie, but a part of Wayne wanted to see just how different this Harrington was. If the respectful demeanor was an act done for Hopper.

Or perhaps, Hopper had mentioned Steve's father for a reason, instead of his mother. Did he adopt her ice-like approach to life?

Micro managing and long-held grudges were Stella Harrington’s game, and she excelled at it.

Steve however, did nothing of the sort, instead settling with the situation in a way that reminded Wayne far too strongly of the men and women who'd come home from war.

"Okay." The kid said simply, after a long moment of consideration. He turned back to Hopper. "But we need to tell the rest of the Par--"

Here he cut a look back to Wayne, correcting himself. "the kids. I don't want them showing up at my house trying to find me and freaking out."

"They wouldn't--" Jim paused, fingers freezing from the rummaging they'd been doing. "they absolutely would, goddammit." He muttered darkly.

"I'll tell the kids. The only thing I want you doing right now is laying low. I need to get a hold of Owens, but it's gonna take time to do that, and more time to fix this, so as of right now, Harrington? You're on vacation." He pointed sternly, as if Steve might argue.

The kid looked too tired and messed up to bother trying.

"I mean it. You're out of the country, where is anybody's guess. No one's seen you and no one better be seeing you, got it?" His voice held firm, and Wayne had to blink because the tone here wasn't one of a police chief warning a teenager--but of a father talking to his son.

He knew, because his own voice did that now. Took on a worried tone that masqueraded as something more like annoyance and seriousness.

"Yes, Sir." Harrington said, remaining weirdly compliant. "Consider me gone."

A hand came up to briefly press above one eye, and Wayne wondered if the kid had been looked over, or if they had just crammed him into Hopper's office without offering so much as a tissue box.

How many painkillers did they have back at the house? Wayne usually kept a good bottle around, but Steve was going to need more than that…

He found himself once again cataloging Steve's wounds, this time comparing them to the medicine cabinet he had at home.

"I expect you to be a damn good house guest, you hear me?" Hopper continued, trying to cut a menacing figure. He finally found what he was looking for; pulling out a large, padded envelope.

He handed it over to Harrington, who took it without looking, shoving it into the duffle bag he'd had sitting at his feet.

There was a smudge of red on the handle of said bag, that matched perfectly up to a shittily done wrap on Steve's right hand.

Wayne mentally added 'buy more bandages' to his list.

Steve nodded at Hopper again. "Yes, Sir."

Jim’s eyes narrowed. "Quite that, you know I hate that."

The briefest glimmer of mischief crossed Harrington's face. "Sorry, Sir. Won't happen again, Sir."

'Ahh.' Wayne thought. 'So there's a teenager in there after all.'

Jim rolled his eyes. "Get out of my office."

"Thanks Hop." Harrington said, finally dropping that odd obedience, a hint of a smile on his battered face.

He stood, and Wayne had to stop himself from offering an arm out as Steve reached for his bag and limped towards him.

He paused right before he left Hopper's office, hand on the doorframe.

"You'll check up on Robin too, right?" He asked, and for the first time his tone took on something more alive--and filled with worry. "And Dustin? Erica?"

"Dustin and his mom are finally taking me up on my suggestion to see their family in Florida for a while, and the Sinclairs are taking a sabbatical from Hawkins. I'm working on the Buckley's." Hopper drummed his fingers on the desk. "So far, no one else besides you and El have been targeted, and we're going to keep it that way."

Steve let out a breath, and while Wayne could tell the worry hadn't left him, he could almost physically see Steve force himself to put it away.

Another act that was far beyond the kid's years.

A different officer popped up as they walked down the hall towards the exit, waving his hand madly. "Harrington! Chief says you forgot this!" He barked.

(Or tried to anyway. Callahan wasn’t the most aggressive of officers and frankly, never would be.)

A slim sports bag was held in his hands, and Steve nearly tripped over his own feet when he tried to turn and claim it.

"I'll get it." Wayne said, knowing his tone sounded gruff.

No use for it. He could either sound gruff or sound sad, and Wayne knew better than to start off the relationship with yet another hurt young man by acting sad.

Pity wasn't gonna win him any favors here.

He took the bag, slinging it over his shoulder, uncaring of the wince on Harrington's face until something sharp poked at his shoulder.

Several somethings, in fact.

"What the hell do you got in this thing?" He asked once they hit the parking lot, voice low as he escorted Steve to his truck.

"Just a baseball bat, sir." Steve said, in the exact same tone Eddie used every time he thought he was bein’ slick.

Considering the thing in the bag could have passed for a baseball bat if not for the sharp pokey bits, it wasn’t a bad attempt. Steve just hadn’t accounted for the fact that Wayne lived with Eddie.

An unfair advantage, really.

‘Least there can’t be any baby racoons in the damn bag.’ Wayne thought idly.

Went on to gently put the bat in the backseat, watching as the kid struggled to lift himself into the truck.

"You can drop that, I take too being called Sir about as well as Hop does." He said, keeping his tone nice and calm, hoping to ease into calling Steve out on his lie.

Fussed with a few dials on the stereo, giving Steve an excuse to take his time before starting the engine and taking the long way home.

Wayne wanted to talk a little-- without the chance of Ed’s interrupting.

"Son,” He started off. “I was born in the morning, but not this morning. I'm hoping to make the next few weeks as easy as I can for both of us, and I can't do that if you're starting off with a lie."

Steve blinked, turning to face him in a matter that was too fast for his injuries. He didn't bother hiding the hurt it caused him, but his voice stayed even as he spoke.

"What do you mean Si--Wayne."

"Nice catch.” Wayne said. “We’ll get you there yet.”

It was a trick he'd learned with Eddie--little tidbits of praise went a long way when it came to gaining trust.

Especially with kids who hadn't ever been given much.

Harrington seemed smart to it, or perhaps was just hesitant to speak in general because he remained quiet, not offering up any info. No further lies, but nothing towards the truth, neither.

Which was fine. Wayne didn’t think a little pushing would hurt.

"That bat of yours was digging into my shoulder like a bee swarm." Wayne continued, when it became clear Steve wasn't talking. "I'm more a fan of football than baseball, but last I checked they hadn't changed the design of a bat."

"What teams?" Steve asked, perking up a touch. "Of football. Which ones are yours?"

Wayne could ignore it of course, or demand Steve give him an answer to the question he asked.

He did neither. "I’m liking the Colts since they got moved here. You?"

"Green Bay Packers, though I like the Colts too--that trade in 84’ was crazy." Steve said. After a second he proved that answering instead of pushing was the right move because he added; "What did Hopper tell you? About…" He trailed off, making a gesture Wayne didn't bother trying to interpret.

"He said some things. I've guessed a few others." Wayne admitted. Cut a little look out of the corner of his eye as he came to a stop sign. "I know the feds are real interested in you after Starcourt."

Steve took that in, hands tightening on the handle.

"It really is a baseball bat." He said, a little fast and with the tiniest hint of that challenge Wayne had been looking for. "It just also has nails hammered into one end."

Wayne took that in with one nice, slow blink.

"A bat with nails in it." He said, and it made a hell of a lot of sense compared to the sensation he'd felt carrying the case. "You use it against anyone?"

"Some of the feds." Steve admitted, and even with his eyes on the road Wayne could tell he was being stared at.

Judged.

Not in the way one expected a rich kid to judge, but in the way Eddie had, those first few months he'd lived here. The times when he'd push, just a little, to see what Wayne's reaction would be.

Eddie hadn't done it in a damn long time, but Wayne recognized the behavior nonetheless.

"Anybody else?" He asked.

"Nobody human." Steve replied.

"Alright." Wayne said, and made a mental note to drop all questions related to that.

He didn't need to know, definitely didn't want to know, and had a feeling if he did know he'd find himself being watched by the same spooks after Steve.

"I've got a few deck boxes that lock on my porch. Think you'd be agreeable to leaving the bat in one?"

Steve paused, hand clenching tighter around the strap of his duffel bag. "If you gave me a key so I could get it in an emergency, I'd be happy to."

He tried to sound calm, even a little charming in that sort of upper-class businessman sort of way, but the fear bled through.

The kid wasn't happy separating from the bat, and given it sounded like it might have saved his life recently, Wayne understood the hesitation.

With an internal apology to Eddie, he promptly threw his nephew under the proverbial bus. "I've got my nephew at home and he'd be far too interested in it, is all. Blades and weapons and such tend to attract him, and I don't need to be rushing anyone to the ER."

All of which were very true facts (one Wayne learned the time he'd allowed Eddie to bring a sword home, only for him to nearly cut his own nose off winging the thing around) but he figured it might make Steve more amenable to separating from it.

Sure enough, some of the tenseness bled out of Steve's shoulders. "Yeah that's fair."

The truck hit a few potholes as they finally turned into the trailer park, and the kid hissed, a quiet sound.

Judging by the uncomfortable wince, and hands clenched into his jeans something painwise was giving him trouble.

"When was the last time you took a pain pill?" Wayne asked, doing his best to weave around the other holes that dotted the gravel roads.

Steve blinked. "Uh…"

"You take any today son?"

Steve his head.

"Didn't have time to grab it." He said, offering a sad look to his pack.

Course he hadn't.

"Let's get you inside then and get you some." Wayne said with a sigh. Thankfully Eddie's van wasn't here--Wayne was fairly certain he had band practice today but knowing him it could be a million other things.

Just meant he had to acclimate Steve as fast as he could, to try and get the poor guy settled before Ed’s came in.

He just hoped life and lady luck would work with him, for once.

#hands on knees #this is gonna have more than three parts fffffff #FAIR WARNING I do jump between Wayne and Eddie’s pov in this.#Everything Ive written so far while in parts for tumblr would basically be chapter 1 on A03 #Eddies POV change would be chapter two #Ugh Im gonna have to put this on A03. Dammit brain.#also I updated this very fast for me #no one get excited Idk the brain is doing #steddie #beat to shit Steve Harrington #wayne pov #outsider pov #wayne as a BAMF #I tried to get to the part where Eddie shows up but it just got too long for a tumblr post #pre steddie #wayne and Hopper both as psuedo parents to Steve #tw injuries #0o0 fanfics #stranger things

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prettyboybun · 9 months

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I am genuinely always thinking about being one of a pair of subs. I'm the obedient bunny, he's the bratty puppy.

Our dom has us kneel for him in the living room after having teased us all day. "Alright, listen, sweet things. I know you're all riled up for me, but I need to go to the store. When I get back, I'll use you both properly, okay?"

We nod, my pup partner squirming already, wiggling his hips. Our dom continues, "You are NOT to touch yourselves until I get back. Got it?"

I nod sweetly, and get my hair ruffled affectionately in return. My sub partner, on the other hand, bites his lip with a glint in his eye, nodding slowly. You could almost hear the cogs turning. Our dom partner gives him a look, but inevitably ruffles his hair as well. "Okay. I'll be back soon, I promise."

We sit still and kneel in the living room until the front door closes and we hear him driving away. Suddenly, my partner pounces on top of me. He's already rutting against my thigh and pressing kisses all over my face and neck.

"B-But," I gasp, "Sir, he said to- He wants us to-"

"I know, baby boy, but I need you so bad right now, he's not gonna have to know," He says, against my neck, "You like this, don't you?"

I groan, "Yes, of course I do, I want you so bad... but I wanna be good for sir..."

"Just don't touch yourself, sweetheart. That's what he said, right? Don't touch yourselves? I'm sure that means I can touch you."

I ponder it for a little bit. Eventually, I nod, biting my lip. I'm still unsure if this is going against sir's wishes, but feeling my puppy boyfriend rutting against me, lips on my neck... It just feels too good after a whole morning of teasing and denial.

Puppy leans up and whispers in my ear, "Good boy." I shiver, hairs standing on end.

I let him manhandle me roughly into the position he wants, which turns out to be frotting our tdicks together. I'm laying on the floor, pinned, whimpering, feeling a little guilty at technically disobeying, but mostly lost in the pleasure.

My puppy looks down at me and says, "Don't cum, either, bunny. You have to wait til sir gets back for that one, definitely."

I nod, breathless. Then I open my eyes and look at him questioningly, "What about you?"

He smirks and rakes his claws down the center of my chest, leaving four pretty red scratches. I moan, and he says, "I can take whatever he's gonna dish. Don't you worry your pretty little head- After all, who's making the rules right now?"

I whimper, "Y-You, sir."

"Good boy."

We stay like that, him roughly grinding into me as I whine and moan beneath him. Eventually, though, the door opens, and I gasp and try to squirm out of my puppy's grip. We weren't supposed to still be playing when he got back. But puppy isn't relenting, he's still rocking his hips sharply against me.

"What do we have here?" Our dom says, a little amused. He surely would have guessed this would happen.

Puppy grunts as he continues grinding on me, "Welcome back, sir." I look at him and he's looking him dead in the eyes, smirking.

"Oh, puppy. Just couldn't wait, could you?" Sir sets down the grocery bags on a table, and walks over and picks pup off me with ease.

I start scrambling to sit up, but my dom presses his boot to my chest and gently lays me back down. "Still, bun, stay here. Let me deal with our boy and then I'll be back for you, okay?" I nod, looking up at him with soft eyes. "There's a good boy."

For a little while, behind me, I hear struggling, teasing, and soft moans. Then, my dom comes back over to me and lifts me up into his arms, walking us over to his armchair. This is when I see that our puppy is tied up spread open on the couch, gagged, but noticeably drippy and empty. Sir sits me down in his chair on his lap, facing puppy.

"Spread your legs, bunny," He murmurs into my ear. I do as he asks immediately, earning a quiet, "Good boy..." In response.

I turn my head to look at him and start saying, "I'm sorry, sir, I didn't mean to disobey, I-"

He shushes me, petting my hair, "Oh, bunny, that's not your fault. I know you need touched, puppy just decided that it was his responsibility to do so. Isn't that right, pup?"

Puppy says something in snarky defiance, surely, muffled against his gag. "Exactly. I know you're my good boy, bun. That's why I'm gonna overstimulate you on my lap right now while your pup watches and can't do anything about it." My eyes widen, starry. I see that sir is smirking at puppy. Our pup squirms and growls against his bonds.

I lean back against our dom's chest, also looking at puppy as I begin to have my tdick touched, softly at first. Then, he applies pressure, making me moan quietly. Teasingly, he uses his fingers to spread my bunnycunt open on display at pup.

"Doesn't he look so pretty like this, puppy?" At this point, our pup is ravenously trying to get out of his bonds, but he's tied up too tightly. Sir adopts a fake pity tone as he says, "Aw, I know, puppy. You just wanna use him so bad, don't you?"

Sir plunges a finger inside me and curls it, making me gasp and moan loudly, "That's it, good bunny. Let every sound out, I want him to hear how good I make you feel."

I do as he asks, making obscene sounds as his fingers fuck in and out of me, thumb circling my tdick. He growls gently in my ear, "You need to tell me when you're close, okay, bunny?"

"I- um- I'm close sir, so close for you, sir," I babble, already feeling so overwhelmed with sensation.

"Cum for us, bunny. Cum all over my fingers." I clench down and shudder, crying out and cumming all over his hand. He doesnt take his fingers out, but he gives me a little bit of time to breathe before he starts fucking me again.

Eventually, I cum the same way again. Then a third, and a fourth time, stacking them back to back against each other. After I've cum five times, I'm absolutely spent. He takes his fingers out, cleans them off, and pets my hair and shoulders, letting me slump against him bonelessly.

Our puppy has given up on getting out of his restraints, but he's whining softly, looking at us with big eyes. Sir motions for me to kneel down on the floor, and I do so, a little slumped.

He walks over to puppy and plays with his dripping hole as he says, "Good boy, good puppy. You took that so well, I know that was difficult. Are you ready for your reward?" Puppy nods, frantically. "Come here, bunny, kneel in front of him."

I happily crawl over, kneeling in front of my pup, smiling softly at him. Sir takes his gag out and says, "Tell him what you want, pup. Nicely, if you would, our boy is a little overwhelmed as you might imagine."

"Pl... Please suck my tdick, bunny."

I oblige, glad to have him down my throat. He throws his head back and moans as I start to flick my tongue. Sir teases his nipples for a while, watching me service him. "Such good boys, both of you. You're both so good for me, I'm so proud of you, so proud to be your owner."

Eventually, sir takes my head and starts fucking my mouth on puppy's dick. Puppy moans louder than ever, babbling about how good it feels, thanking us both. Sir fucks my throat on it harder, growling, "That's it. Take it, take it, both of you."

I moan into his tdick, sending loud vibrations straight through him. Puppy jerks his hips up in time with my mouth bobbing on him, crying out, "Sir, I'm gonna cum!"

"Cum for me, puppy, cum down his throat," I can hear sir whisper in his ear. Pup cums explosively down my throat, covering my face in it.

Sir gently pulls my head off, as I stare off in a subspace daze. Puppy is panting, as our dom makes quick work of untying him, "Good boys. You're both so good for me, took that all so well."

He lies puppy back on the couch against him, and motions for me to lay on him as well. I jump up, eager to get snuggled after all that intense play, and he chuckles sweetly at me. Sir pets my hair when I get nestled into his embrace, "Good boy, there you go. Much better, love having both my sweet boys in my arms."

Puppy leans up to kiss me gently on the forehead. They both keep praising me and each other, and I deliver slurred praise back where I can, eventually drifting off peacefully in their safe embrace.

#☀️overstim #☀️bunny #dom thoughts in this post brought to you by 💡- subby stuff is me rhfnbdmsbdkjd #☀️pubby #☀️mine #☀️bound #☀️displayed #☀️group #sorry for how fuckimg LONG this got holy shit #anyways this has been my number 1 fantasy for SO LONG.... it's insane how long this has been in my brain #(and um. likewise how often the system plays with this concept for ourselves. esp with me ⚡️ & 💡)

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