It's Always Halloween on my Heart

2000

You probably shouldn’t have answered the phone when he called but there was something about Steve Harrington that kept you coming back for more. 

It could have been the charismatic swagger he carried into every room or the softness in his sober smile. Maybe it was the sadness in his tone when he had too much to drink or the scars on his body he never went into detail about. 

Maybe it was because when he hired you as his secretary he explained to you that you would be closer to him than anyone else even though at the time he meant traveling with him to business deals across the globe and taking notes of things and secrets that none of his lower-level people were aware of. 

Maybe it was because when he got drunk he spilled even more of those secrets that he insisted no one knew but never once made sense to you. One night a bartender called you demanding you pick him up since you were always listed as his emergency contact just in case he was somewhere he shouldn’t be and the entire drive back to his three-story house he kept babbling about bats that killed his friend in the 80s and “I tol’ ‘em not to be heroes.” Another evening you sat with him at a bar in the airport waiting for his plane to be ready while he whispered about how he helped save the world from monsters and yet here he was pretending to be “normal”.

Maybe it was the filthy words he whispered when he bent you over his desk thrusting his large cock so deep into your pussy that you could feel him in your stomach or the way his gorgeous hands ran along your naked body in the hotel room he had rented so his wife would remain none the wiser. It could be the way he pressed his face into your belly or rested his head on your lap, humming and even sometimes crying as your fingers ran through his messy yet gorgeous head of hair. 

Maybe it was because no matter what state he was in…professional, casual, intoxicated, sober, happy, depressed, horny, calm, angry, furious…he always called you. 

Steve needed you and you were happy to oblige. 

Tonight, you were summoned to the top floor of the hotel he normally vanished to when he needed to “disappear” usually with you in tow. You should have pretended to be asleep but you had a gut feeling…something wasn’t right…Your instinct confirmed when your two-way pager buzzed with big, practically screaming letters “HOTEL! NOW!”

The moment you entered the fancy entryway, you were met with a blur that paced back and forth, stopping to have your boss glare your way. 

“Nice of you to join us.”, he growled, bringing the glass of whiskey to his lips and taking a long sip. 

“Us?”, you ask flatly, your flip flops smacking against the tile as you take a look around searching for people to find no one. 

“You know what I meant. Don’t give me that fucking attitude.”

“I see we’re in good mood.”, you sass, folding your arms over your chest as you fully face him. “But I’m not since you woke me up at two in the fucking morning so let’s get a move on. How can I help?”

Steve smirks, taking another swing from his glass and casually leaned his elbow against the fireplace warming the living room. 

“You know what I find amusing? You always talk back and give me those ‘I’m fucking sick of you’ eyes yet every single time you still show up. Why is that, honey?”

“Because I’m an idiot, apparently.”

“Noooo, I think it’s because you like being told what to do by me.”

Oh, so it was going to be one of those nights. 

Something happened and he desperately needed to be or at least feel like he was in control. 

“Fine but you know my one rule.” At your comment, your boss rolls his eyes, shifting them to the void to avoid your gaze. “Alright, Mr. Harrington, then I will see you in the office on Monday.”

Just as you begin to walk towards the front door, his firm tone stops you. 

“I had a nightmare.”, he huffs, the glass clanking loudly as he sets it down and takes off his long sleeve college insignia shirt before tossing it to the side. “I had a fucking nightmare.”

After a certain incident with him being too rough verbally and physically had you yelling your safe word, you made a rule and even forced him to sign the napkin you wrote the rule on. 

“If Y/N Y/L/N asks, Steve Harrington has to be honest about why he needs her in that moment.”

You wished he would just be fully honest with you and tell you what happened to him that scares him so much while fueling his desperate need for control but you couldn’t force him. 

“Do you want to tell me what it was about?”, you ask, his eyes fluttering at your genuine curiosity.

That’s why he hired you, your kind heart and tenacity he noticed immediately within the interview. Like his wife, coworkers, and others around him, you did what he demanded the moment he demanded it but unlike them you asked questions and on occasion pushed back. 

That’s what he needed more than anything, a fight. 

Between 83 and 86, he fought people in Hawkins, demogorgons, and Vecna almost dying numerous times but still coming out successful.

Now that it was all over…what was he now?

Some corporate fucker who made deals with other fuckers whose biggest high was the coke they probably snorted minutes before their meeting or the hooker they had waiting back at their hotel while their wives stayed at home raising their children. 

Steve lost so much during his time back home that he thought he’d be happy to move on to something calmer. Little did he know he’d never get that feeling ever again…the feeling of accomplishment and the adrenaline that comes along it. 

Oh, he chased it though, losing millions on gambling debts and drugs that dealers told him would be “out of this world”. Every punch to the face whether it be a fist or the morning hangover, fueled him for a while before reality inevitably came crashing back down. 

Sometimes it was just the feeling that disappeared leaving a hole in heart that he struggled to fill or, more often than not, it was the reminders that filled his brain till they were practically screaming in his ear. 

Reminders of people who died or were hurt; people that weren’t here anymore making him feel guilty about not being grateful for the calm. Dreams like tonight that plagued him of being kidnapped and tortured by Russian men who drugged him. 

No! He could control that.

Men weren’t sticking him with a needle to force narcotics in his system. 

He could do that now. 

Bats weren’t biting into his stomach and trying to choke him. 

He instigated a fight with a man at the bar by hitting on the man’s girlfriend who was now punching him in the gut. 

Tonight, he bolted up right in bed covered in sweat as the images of the Russian solider punched him repeatedly till he blacked out while he was bound and restrained. 

Now, here you were just like he commanded and about to be restrained yourself.

Steve had the control. 

Or at least that’s what he told himself repeatedly. 

“No.”

“Steve…you know you can tell me anything. Whenever you’re ready…”

“Kneel.”, he growled, eyes like fire as he pointed at the spot directly in front of him. Sighing, you placed your bag back down and sauntered his way but just as you placed yourself where he wanted you to be, his palm took hold of your throat. “Who am I when we’re together? Hm?”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Harrington.”, you murmur, gaze shifting to the floor as he lets you go and you gradually descend to your knees with your palms on your thighs, the fire in front of you lightly warming you features as you listen to him disappear into the bedroom. 

When he returns, your boss is carrying a black box you very much recognize, placing it down on one of the chairs and producing a thick black rope that you two had utilized numerous times. 

Balancing on his heels behind you, Steve firmly takes hold of your wrists, restraining them behind your back just before you feel the coolness of steel against your skin as he uses his scissors to cut off your tank top and shorts. 

“You’re very beautiful, Y/N.”, he whispers from somewhere beside you, his humid breath warming your shoulder as he gently kisses your skin. “Must be a really dirty slut to be here with me and letting me touch your body however I want.”

As he spoke, his palms maneuvered around you, fingertips lightly grazing your nipples, along your tummy, and just above your pussy lips before coming back around to repeat the process. 

“Tell me why you’re here.”

“Because I belong to you, Mr. Harrington.”

Abruptly his large hand slaps your breast eliciting a moan from you as he does it once more. 

“What have I said about lying, little girl?”, he growls. 

“I’m not—”

Steve’s palms squeeze your tits as he lightly but firmly bites into the nook at the base of your neck. 

“Do you think I’m dumb? Do you think I don’t see you flirting with other men?!”, he hisses through gritted teeth in your ear, his palm coming up to grip your jaw to keep you in place as your head naturally tilts away from him. “Do you think just because you don’t fucking tell me about your dates with Richard that I don’t know about them?!”

That genuinely surprises you as your eyebrows raise in shock, his mocking laugh angering you slightly making you pout but his fingers pinching your cheeks keeps you in line. 

“Do you treat him like you do me? Do you come any time he calls and get on your knees when he asks?” Pausing, Steve allows himself to suck another hicky into your neck before soothing it with his wide tongue, leaving a trail of spit up to your cheek to your ear. “Are you a slut for him to, baby?”

“No, Sir. I’m only this way with you.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m your whore, Mr. Harrington.”

Your answer doesn’t seem to please him like it usually does and for some reason, that bothers you. 

Maybe it was because you hated seeing him upset or that utterly heartbroken look in his big, gorgeous eyes that he was displaying now even though every other feature on his face was displaying anger. 

He was fishing for a certain response and it was up to you to figure out what. 

“That may be one of the reasons but it’s not the only reason. Out of all the other fucking people you’ve been a secretary for, Y/N, why do you kneel for me?”

“B-B-Because you’re mine to.”

Steve grumbles as he sticks two of his fingers into your mouth causing you to gag a bit as your spit coated the appendages.  

A loud groan left your lips as he swiped them between your folds, grazing your clit and collecting your slick before shoving them back in your mouth. 

“That’s it. Taste how fucking wet you are doing what I tell you to do. Why does your pussy get so wet for your boss, huh? You could have accepted those secretary jobs for Leeman’s or Hagan’s but you kneel for Steven Harrington. Why?”

Your eyes search his as his palm spanks your behind and the other continues to roam your frame. 

It hits you then, the answer he’s looking for with the clues he’s given you. 

“Because I work for you, Mr. Harrington.”

The man’s eyes flutter as a flurry of emotion passes through them until finally settling on what appears to be relief. 

“Who do you work for?”

“You, Sir.”

*SMACK*

His palm connects with your cheek eliciting a light moan from you both, accentuated when his fingers find their way between your legs once more, effortlessly gliding into your core and stretching you open the only way he ever knew how.

“Again.”

“I work for you.”

*SMACK*

“Again, baby girl, who do you work for?”

“Mmph—you, Sir.”

Steve’s hand circles around the back of your neck, holding your forehead to his as the sound of your slick fills the room as he thrusts his fingers at a faster pace. 

“That’s right, honey. Fuck—you work for me and I’m in control.” You whine as he abruptly pulls away just as you were nearing your orgasm and his palm firmly spanks your ass at the noise. “I control when you cum. Tonight your body belongs to me.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“An’ M’gonna make you cum hard on my cock. Need to feel you squeezing me.”, he babbles under his breath, rising to his feet and sloppily pulling down his shorts to allow his leaking, hard length freedom. “Open your mouth for me. Good…good little slut for me.”, Steve praises when you open your mouth wide allowing him to shove his cock between your lips. 

The man’s fingers tangle in your hair as you gag around him, your boss barely giving you time to breathe when he pulls back before pumping his hips to fuck your face. 

“You got it, Y/N, fuck, you can take it. Would have been long gone if you couldn’t—mmph—just like everyone else.”

Your eyes flick upwards, watching as his face contorts in what appears to be pleasure but even you see the pain behind it as he absently reaches for the cup on the mantel and takes a long swing, emptying the whisky within. 

“I-I’m such a lucky man. Have my own company…billions of dollars—fuck—and a secretary that chokes on my dick whenever…I…want…” Between his last couple of words, Steve remained still, holding your head in place as you gagged and your throat constricted around him. “I’m a hero, baby.”

With that he pushed you away, allowing you to collect air while you laid on your side and coughed, feeling the wind as he stepped over you to go somewhere but where you weren’t sure.

After what felt like an eternity, a cool rag run along your skin up to your cheeks and you hummed in ecstasy at the feeling, tilting your head against it and his palm before being met with a cup to your lips that you eagerly sipped when you realized it was water. 

“Color, sweetheart?”

“Green, Sir, thank you.”

“Look at me, honey.”, Steve murmured, smiling softly when you did. “You can leave, you know? I can untie you, help you get dressed and walk you to your car. Tomorrow morning I can write you the best recommendation to a company I think you’d thrive in. Somewhere where you’re not handling some…manic billionaire with problems…”, he chuckles, allowing it to taper off when your glassy irises met his. 

“I don’t want to leave, Mr. Harrington.”, you whimper. “Do you want me to leave?”

The man’s eyes take in your face as your lips pout out and his heart cracks slightly. 

“I didn’t say that.”

“Neither did I. I like making you feel good and being there for you in whatever capacity you need me to be.”

“Hm.”, he breathily laughs, hand reaching out to cup your cheek as his thumb caresses your skin. “Capacity. She’s still using big words even when she’s on her knees for me.”, Steve jests, blinking before his irises darken a bit. “How would Richard feel if he knew about every capacity I need you in?”

“I don’t think he’d like it, Sir.”

“Then why have you been seeing him?” You shrug and he growls at the action. “Were you just trying to piss me off? Out of all the men you could fuck why him?! You know how I feel about him!”

“We haven’t—”

“I saw him tonight at that stupid fucking Gala event doing his impressions for everyone to make them laugh like a fucking idiot. Every time he does that stupid Russian voice I want to punch him in the face!!”

“Then you should have!!”, you shout back, startling him slightly as he focused on you once more. “Personally, I love that accent; makes me laugh right out of my panties.”, you sass. “His dick is way bigger than yours to.”

Steve knows what you’re doing and he’s grateful for it. 

He was beginning to lose that control and you were bringing him back; one of the many qualities he liked about you. Even in the office when he felt his attention waning into memories of the past, you brought him back with a simple, “Um, Mr. Harrington HAS mentioned before he wants to expand to that particular department and even has a building lined up.”

The client would turn his way and he’d turn on that Harrington charm as if he hadn’t missed a beat. 

The man before you smirked just as annoyance fully took over and he abruptly collected you in his strong arms, carrying you to his expansive mattress and tossing you onto your stomach. 

“You and I both know my cock isn’t just big and I definitely know how to use it to make you fucking tremble.”

Manhandling your lower half, Steve positions your ass in the air, your face pressed into the bed beneath you as you wait for him to give you what you need, not even allowing you a full moment to get adjusted to him as he guides his length fully into your core. 

“Y/N, you better thank God because if he had stretched out your pussy I would have fucking killed him.”, he huffed, pulling back before thrusting in, practically punching the air from your lungs. “Still so fucking tight.” 

A part of you hated how good his cock felt inside you. 

The truth was no one ever fucked you like Steve Harrington, your bodies connecting almost perfectly as his cock filled you while your walls within clung to him allowing you to feel every delicious inch. 

With each slam of his hips and rough touch of his hands, there was a layer of passion hiding behind it that had you turning into a puddle of goo underneath him. 

Hell, even outside of the bedroom when his fingers would lightly graze your arm as if to slightly say thank you had a smile painting your features. 

Lips trailed along your spine as his palms rubbed your body underneath you, gripping your breasts as he hugged your body to his, moaning in your ear when your nails faintly grazed his stomach. 

“Look at you. Just a fucking mess…little slut loves my dick, doesn’t she?”

“Yes, Sir—fuck—feels good.”

“Better than his? Come on, baby, answer me.”, he whispers as you mewl into the mattress with each languid roll of his lower half into yours. “Does he make you come apart the way I do?”

“N-No, Sir.”

“I should leave marks on you everywhere so you have to tell him that. That you belong to—mmph—someone who’s thick…cock…makes you cum harder than he ever could.” 

Steve’s breath warms you as he moans against your shoulder with each punctuated thrust of his hips between every other word, smirking when you pant and press your face into the mattress. 

“He doesn’t know your body like I do…every curve, every inch, every scar….”

His voice cracks at the last word and you turn your head enough to meet his lips with your own. 

“Make me cum, Steve.”

With one word, you fully unlocked his wall, watching as his eyes closed and he pressed his forehead against your temple as he picked up his rhythm.

Your boss may know your body but we were Steve Harrington’s secretary and confidant. You knew each little tick, trigger, and aura that told you what he needed without you having to ask or him needing to tell you.

He had been sitting at his desk for hours, eyebrows tilting together in anger as he mumbled under his breath about the “incompetence” of the people around him?

A sandwich would suddenly appear in his field of view with a cup of coffee, bottle of water, and your cocky smirk when his wide eyes met yours before offering you a smile of his own.

Steve froze after putting on his jacket and grabbing his briefcase to leave for the day?

You kept your phone volume high and cancelled any plans you may have that night knowing either he or the bar would be calling you to pick him up because he was too drunk to drive. 

He mentioned the scars that littered his chest and neck, however briefly?

You made sure to make him feel safe and that you were there for him. 

HIM.

Not Steven Harrington or Sir. 

Steve.

“I need you to touch me, baby, please.”

The man’s palm glides between your legs as you push your back against him, hoping to allow him more room as his fingers press to your clit, applying the perfect amount of pressure that has your eyes rolling back. 

Words seem to completely escape him as he focuses on you both, his humid pants against your skin making your pussy clench tighter around him as you near your orgasm. 

“Please, Steve, fuck. M’gonna cum. Don’t stop. Please! O-Oh fuck.”

Your body visibly quivers as you let go, his arm around your chest pulling you both up onto your knees and allowing him more leverage as he fucks you through it. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.”, he grunts, his other limb circling around you to hug you tightly to him as you feel him abruptly warm your insides. “Fuck.”

While you both try to catch your breathes, your head falls back against his shoulder while his lips tenderly peck along the sweaty skin of your own. 

“Thank you.”, he murmurs. 

“For what?”

“Being you.”

You can’t help but giggle at his kindness, your smile making him don his own as he rests his chin against you. 

“No problem.”, you coo, craning your neck to lightly kiss his cheek. “But if you don’t untie my wrists, we may have one.”

“Oh, shit! Um…” Your smile remains as he tilts back and undoes your binds, tossing the rope to the floor. “Shit. I did them a bit too tight.”, he conveys with concern when he carefully brings your arms to your front and his thumbs massage the red indent in your skin. “Let me get the…”

After whispering soft apologies as he pulls out, you observe him as he scurries out of the bedroom and listen as he haphazardly removes ice from the freezer in the kitchen. 

You gradually make your way to the bathroom, exhaling heavily when you turn on the shower and steam promptly fills the area. 

“I could have gotten that ready for you.”, Steve says, placing everything in his hands to the side as he quickly reaches over you to hold open the glass door.

“It’s ok. I don’t mind.”

“Well, I do. You do a lot for me and the least I can do is take care of you after.” You nod at his statement, choosing not to argue as you allow him to guide you under the water and clean your frame. “I’m sorry I came inside you. I couldn’t help myself when you—”

“It’s ok. I’m on the pill.”

Steve chuckles at your statement, tossing the rag he had been using to the side. 

“Why didn’t you ever tell me? Shit, I could have been filling you up this whole time.”

As he leans in to playfully kiss your lips, your palm on his chest gives him pause. 

“I’m allowed to keep my own secrets, Steve.”, you murmur confidently, his eyes never leaving yours as your fingers trace down his hairy pecs to his abs along the red scar that was still fairly prominent even after all these years. “We both know you have yours.”

Reaching behind you, you turn off the shower and step out onto the mat, waiting for him to grab a towel and dry you which he does. 

“I bet Richard knows all your secrets, huh.”, he hisses, stomping towards the dresser within the room and returning with a shirt and a pair of shorts that were your size. 

“I went on one date, Steve, and then he dumped me. I haven’t had dinner with him since nor have I fucked him.”, you reply with equal venom. “Every time we tried to meet up my schedule and need to be on call got in the way. God, why do you think I wasn’t at that Gala with him tonight?! You’re so fucking selfish.”

Steve’s fury filled irises widened and softened as you yelled at him. 

“If it’s that much of a problem maybe you should quit.”

“You’d like that wouldn’t you?! Another person you pushed away because you’re addicted to pain of any kind. Why, Steve?! Why are you like this?!”

“I DON’T KNOW!”, he shouted, startling you as you took a step back. “I don’t fucking know! I lost so many people already and watch so many people including my friends fucking die and yet it’s not enough! I should be grateful to be fucking normal but I’m not! After every hit, punch, kick, stab, bite, choke…fucking everything…I was still the hero! I saved the world!”

When his voice cracked, your heart cracked with it as the tears began to flow down his cheeks. 

“No one taught me how to live after that… At least when I was suffering back then it meant something because we were able to protect people. Now I have a fucking nightmare almost every night, I get triggered by stupid shit like some stupid fucker making these other stupid fuckers laugh with his stupid fucking accents, and medical issues that fucking KILL ME! Migraines that knock me on my ass and scars that STILL FUCKING HURT… and for what, Y/N? Huh?! To wake up every day and talk shop about building permits till I go home and have to listen to my wife babble about her equally insignificant day?!”

Your feet scoot across the carpet as you make your way to him and wrap your arms around his waist. Without hesitation, he hugged you to him, resting his cheek on top of your head.

“I wish you’d tell me what happened to you.”

“I wish I could tell you, honey.”

You nod, your face rubbing against his bare chest before letting him go to take a seat on the mattress, grabbing the ice pack from the end table and holding it out his way. 

“My, um, my wrists do kind of hurt.”, you chuckle, holding your smile as best you can when he takes the item from your grasp and kneels in front of you to hold it against your skin. “I, um, I don’t know what happened but this isn’t the first time you’ve mentioned saving the world. I live in the world so that means I wouldn’t be here without you.” 

You pause as you lift your head, allowing your irises to meet his. 

“Thank you for saving me.” 

Steve surges forward to capture your lips with his, one of your palms coming up to cup his cheek. When he pulls away to kiss your forehead, you can’t help but lick your lips, tasting the mixture of whiskey, cigarettes, and Steve himself. 

“I love you, Y/N.”

“No, you don’t. You love the idea of me. Tomorrow you’ll wake up and things will be exactly the same…”, you cry, whipping the tears from your eyes with the back of your hand. “Anyway, um, I should get going. You have a meeting in the a few hours so you should get some sleep—”

“You should stay here.”, he interrupts. 

“I can’t. I have to be at that meeting to and if we show up together—”

“Literally the last thing on my mind right now.” You shake your head at his answer, standing to head for the door but his hand on your bicep keeps you in front of him. “I’d like you to stay…please.”

Steve Harrington rarely said please. 

What was it about him that had you behaving this way?

Maybe it was the amber irises that practically pleaded with you to remain even though you knew it would look bad if you both walked into his company together. Not that it hadn’t happened before but normally that was in the afternoons after coming back from somewhere he showed up late to while you were not only on time but making up an excuse for him so the client didn’t leave. 

Just like his workforce, you were there first thing in the morning alone catching up on things like taking down his voicemails from his parents and his wife who were angry about different things and building a calendar you knew a hung-over version of him would be able to follow. 

Maybe it was his broad physique and strong arms that lifted you off your feet and placed you under the covers before crawling in beside you to rest his head on your chest, his thumb caressing your stomach as your own fingers threaded through his hair. 

Maybe it was the fact that you needed him as much as he needed you. 

Maybe.

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