Surrender // Steve Harrington x Reader

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐘-𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄

"What?" He laughs, warm and sleepy in the early morning sunlight that beamed through the window of his bedroom. His fingers were laced with yours and those soft hazel eyes flitter over your expression. Steve looked so serene. So carefree. It made your heart flutter and sent the butterflies in your stomach wild.

"Nothing..." You lie, briefly looking to where your digits interlocked, a demure smile unable to be hidden. 

"I don't know..." He sighs, a playful air to the way he says it as he lifts the blankets so he could slide himself on top of you, slotting perfectly between your thighs as he supports himself on his elbows which dip the mattress either side of your head. "Seems like you got somethin' on your mind, beautiful."

It was your turn to laugh now, though it was far less composed than his own. His proximity and attitude had you breathless, blushing beneath him and he was loving every second of it. "I was-- I don't know. It's stupid." 

"Hey." His tone took on a sudden serious air, those the grin on his sumptuous lips didn't once falter. "Nothing's ever stupid that comes from you. What is it?"

"I'm happy. That's all." A quiet sigh, the admittance making your heart race even as you spoke it. But Steve's expression simply softens and he dips to brush his lips over your own. "I'm happy too, baby. So fuckin' happy." 

He smelled so good as he kissed you. His aftershave must have been fresh on, and you smile against his lips as your lids flutter closed, nostrils flaring as you inhale him. The aftershave, his toothpaste. Blood.

Wait... Blood?

Blood. And dirt and soot and tangy air. All caking his green sweater that clung to your skin with sweat and open wounds, the echo of him still drifting up to your nose even now.

Your cheeks were wet when you finally wake. Your body had deep aches all over, some areas worse than others; like your ribs which felt splintered and torn, sending shooting stabs through your lungs each time you dared to take a breath. Your head thrummed with a violent headache that refused to cease and your arms which were splayed out either side of you, restrained by thick black vines, ached and burned with the lack of ability to rest them. 

You were still in the Creel House, though you'd been moved to the attic, you realise as your groggy eyes finally take in the room. You were bound to the wall at the back of the room near the large window, toes barely brushing the ground enough to give you a feeble attempt at support. 

A low whimper as all the agony hits you at once. You felt broken, both inside and out, as the memories come flooding in as well. 

The tears on your cheeks are added to, silent sobs scrunching up your visage. Henry was nowhere to be seen at first and you allow yourself this simple moment to feel it all. To feel everything you deserved to feel. 

He knows. You remind yourself of the events that occurred before you passed out. Each of the faces of your friends, horrified at the revelation, flash across your mind. How long it had been since then, you didn't know.

It had been expected that Henry would end you. Would snap you in two without another thought after what you'd done to him. And after what he'd done to you, exposing you, it was almost disappointing to still be here.

Trembling lips press together as you try your best to regain control of your emotions, a shaky breath intended to steady you doing nothing at all. 

"You're awake. Good." The scratchy tones of your father cut into the air, unwelcome and unwanted, as he steps out of the shadowed doorway and into the room. He steps closer until his face was inches from your own, an unexpected calm to his eyes where you'd expected rage.

"Get away from me." You spit, flinching from his touch as he wipes the tears from your cheeks. Fists clench either side of you, not that you could do anything with your arms held back. Hell, you weren't even sure you even had any powers anymore after how you'd exhausted them. Normally you could always feel that little ghost of electricity inside of you. Not anymore. Not right now.

But you were weak, oh so weak, right now. You hoped they came back. You'd need them to get the hell away from here.

"Come now." He hums, dropping his hand yet keeping his gaze on yours. There was no emotion to his pale blue eyes. Nothing but an emptiness that you'd never noticed before, but then you'd never really known anyone with true emotion until you'd left this place. Even Brenner would only look at you with something resembling irritation. 

What you'd once though was love with Henry, parental love, you realise now was just manipulation and him using you for his own gain.

"I forgive you for what you have done, Two. You are home now. We can move on from this; my plan is almost complete. I'd like you there when it all finally happens."

"My home..-" Your lower lip trembles, voice cracking and so you take a moment to regain yourself, schooling your features into the sheer hatred you felt for the creature before you. "Is with Steve. Not here. It was never here."

Clawed fingertips close around your throat, a deep growl rumbling his chest as you fight for breath, soft whimpers of fear coming out among the gasps. "I should have known you were too young and naive to go there alone. You weren't ready and now look what they have done to you." He sighs and releases your throat to brush the backs of charred fingers over your cheek. You flinch away from it, but it doesn't stop him. "My ever loyal daughter, corrupted by errant children."

Daughter. You had called him father all the time, and yet you'd never really heard him call you that. You were always so desperate to hear it, so needy for him to see you as his child where you saw him as a parent. 

"They will all die, Two. Every last one of them." He tells you as if it was a simple fact, like the sky being blue or the sun rising every morning in the East. It makes your throat thick with the need to cry, but you swallow it down as best you can. "Regardless of whether you are by my side or beneath my heel. I cannot lose a power like yours, you belong at my side when I take their world."

The barely beating heart within its skeletal cage drops to the depths of your gut at his words. It felt shattered. Wounded. Broken. You were broken. 

At one time in your life, his offer would have reached your ears like gossamer silk and sweet honey. Welcome and desired, something you would have given your life in pursuit of. But now? Now it made you sick to even consider it. You knew there weren't many options, that he was likely to win regardless of whatever plan the others were undoubtedly cooking up.

And yet...

"Go to hell." You spit at him, eyes narrowing into a steely glare. There was no desire to work with him anymore. Every hateful, vile cell in your body was full to the brim with a sickening disgust towards him now. You hated him. You wanted him dead. Gone forever.

The back of his hand strikes your cheek harder than you'd expected. Blood fills your mouth from how the impact had crushed the inside wall of your mouth against your teeth and you can feel the split skin over your cheekbone begin to leak warm, sticky crimson. That same glare finds him once more as the liquid in your mouth fills until you spit it across his face.

Henry recoils, wiping it off with the back of his hand as his lips twist in fury at you, his lower lids twitching. 

"As you wish." He huffs, "At least I'll have something they want. Something to bring them back here so I can crush them myself." Henry forces a grotesque smirk that makes your stomach turn. 

Great. So you were bait now. 

"They won't. Not now, not with what they know about me." You assure him, not wanting him to entrap them. Not only that, but your words had been the truth - there was no way in Hell any of them would have a single shred of desire to rescue you from your torment. And you wouldn't want them to risk themselves trying. "They won't come for me."

No, you deserved this. Deserved the hell you were in. 

It was only right after what you'd done to them.

Henry begins to retreat from the dark room, walking backwards with an amused expression you didn't like one bit. 

"We'll see about that, little one."