#john harrington

[nofatclips]

Tonight's The Kind Of Night by Melanie from the album Antlers

[acrylicqueen]

[thediktatortot]

Part 1 of ? Raising Steven

"Steven-"

Milk seeped slowly across the kitchen tile as John Harrington stood there in the door way, his young son barely holding the gallon of milk still uncapped and dribbling milk across the boys fingers and to the ground. It soaked the front of his corduroy pants and up the sleeves of his sweater where he had tried to correct his hold on the jug.

He couldn't stop himself from sighing heavily at the mess that was made, running a hand through his hair at the sight.

John had places to be, people to speak too and business to conduct, he didn't have time to deal with his son's accidents or messes. He didn't have time to coddle his son and help him clean it up. Janet Harrington was supposed to be the one to come in here and handle Steven when he was particularly rowdy or messy.

But Janet Harrington was a Modern Woman, who worked and socialized and did charities while speaking on the town committee and hosted dinner parties for the local justice department. Janet Harrington was a socialite, an influencer of strong woman and doer's like the little gaggle she hosted brunches on Saturday mornings and donated time at their church on Sundays.

Janet Harrington was, in her words 'not going to raise a heathen or play house like the barefooted cows at the grocery store.'

"I'm sorry...I was thirsty."

John sighed again, looking to the side at the open fridge door where Steven had climbed to pull the milk down from the shelf, the half full glass taken from the cabinet where Steven must have climbed up to get too on the ground, milk surrounding it where he had attempted to pour the heavy jug on his own.

John sighed again, "Set the milk down and cap it." He explained as he stood in the kitchen doorway of their temporary home, the one in Loch Nora still in the last few weeks of finishing touches.

"If you think you're big enough to get your own milk then your big enough to clean up your own messes. You know where the paper towels are, you know where the trashcan is, and with half the milk on the kitchen floor the jug shouldn't be too hard for you to put back in the fridge."

Steven stood there, brown eyes wide with caution to his father's reaction, young enough to not understand everything, but old enough to understand when he'd made a mistake. Tears began to well in his eyes at John's statement, the sight usually pulling at his heart strings but as of recently, he'd been too tired with Steven's constant mood changes and accidents around the house to feel anything but irritation.

"Don't start crying Steven." John wasn't going to let his son's emotions and whims get the better of him, especially not when he was already dressed for the golf course. He knew it was futile to tell his boy to not cry, always the sensitive one, always the one who seemed to know a little too much about the world around him or feel a little too much about things he couldn't understand.

Janet had wanted a daughter and got a son, but that hadn't changed her mind on how she was going to raise a 'free thinking' and 'unfettered' child.

"But daddy-"

"Steven."

Steve went quiet, a few tears slipping over his cheeks as he set the milk jug down at his wet feet and crouched down to grab the cap that was suctioned to the floor by the milk.

"Don't make me tell you again. Your mother is having guests over tonight for dinner and I will not have you be leaving messes behind for her to clean up. She's a busy woman and many people depend on her, so do not make her day harder than it already is."

John hated snapping at his son, he really did, but he couldn't help it. Steve just didn't act how they had originally hoped. Steven wasn't even the little girl his wife had hoped to raise.

"Now- clean this mess up. The cleaner is under the sink where it always is, you've watched your mother use it, just do as she does." John moved from the doorway to the kitchen and back into the hall, taking his keys from the hook.

"If I hear that this wasn't cleaned up by the time I get back then you are in big trouble, Steven. And remember Mrs. Hallburt is across the street if there's an emergency." John spoke loud enough for it to travel to the kitchen, the sounds of sniffling and small whimpers the only thing he heard in reply before he stepped out the doorway.

---

I really wanted to start putting into words how I feel Steve's parents would be with him. I'm basing them off family I know who were similarly wealthy and very much that sort of world where Steve would come from. There's a particular style of neglect that comes with the 80s, but there's a sort of across the board neglect that comes with wealthy households that some people don't get too see.

Everything is an image, and Steve calling his dad an asshole doesn't necessarily mean his parents are hitting him or verbally abusing him in the same sort of manner as we see with Billy.

[notallmight18]

I literally have no clue why people just assumed steve has shitty parents..based off what? that steve thinks his mum went with his dad on the business trip because he would cheat otherwise(in season 1!!)?? That's probably just what steve thinks. It might not even be true..

Also nobody can change my mind but his parents are John and Alison

[songbirdkisses]

Back to Where We Started From (Miracle) - Chapter 102

Read Chapter 102 from the story Back to Where We Started From (Miracle) by songbird_kisses (songbirdkisses) with 54 r...

[hainethehero]

HARRINGROVE: HURT/COMFORT

Steve's been crying all night.

It's not something he's proud of, but goddamnit when the booze dissolved into his bloodstream, he couldn't stop the emotional whirlwind even if he wanted to. And why the fuck was he crying anyway?

Why?

He'd just graduated for fucksake! With a 3.6 GPA to boot. Sure that wasn't top-of-the-class-Nancy-Wheeler smart but shit, he'd honestly expected to fail. But he hadn't. Had even walked across the stage with his scroll and everything. So why wasn't he happy?

Well, it wasn't so much that he wasn't happy- rather, it was more like he'd felt crushed. Absolutely gutted and disappointed like a child that hadn't gotten a toy for Christmas.

"Hey Harrington," a voice calls lazily. Steve knows it's Billy, he just doesn't want to acknowledge his ex-nemesis while his eyes are red and swollen from crying like a baby all night. They're friends now- sort of. Max's inclusion into the group had ultimately led to Billy chaperoning her around town with the other kids. So, he'd become the Dad to Steve's Mom by default, in a messed up 'the Universe hates Steve Harrington' kind of way. And today, they'd taken the kids to the old junkyard- something about retracing footsteps according to Dustin. Steve wasn't even paying attention anyway.

"Hey, dumbass, one of your kids just fell from the top of the bus. I think he broke something." Billy informs, an amused and smug look on his stupid mug. Steve barely registers the information though and simply glares at him as if he were a disgusting peasant, too poor to be in the presence of the princess. At least that's how Billy saw it.

Until he didn't.

Steve feels a denim-clad shoulder brush his, signaling that Billy had just sat down on the patch of dead grass he'd been wallowing in for the past two hours. He smells woodsy cologne and cigarettes on the other boy and somehow it just makes him want to bury his face in that muscular bicep and cry some more. God, Billy had been so much better than the douchebag he'd always thought he was, that it was almost pitiful the way he gravitated towards the blonde. And wrong- so wrong on so many levels. Billy had his own shit to deal with, why the fuck was Steve's problems any more important?

"I don't smoke anymore," he says softly when Billy offers him a cigarette.

Billy shrugs, "Suit yourself."

They're quiet for a few moments until Billy speaks again. "Y'know, they're real assholes for not showing up."

Steve's gaze snaps up from the ground and he frowns at Billy. "I don't kn-"

"Cut the bullshit Harrington, everyone noticed."

Steve bites his tongue and sits back, heart in his throat and tears already springing into his eyes. "It's- it's nothing," he chokes, shaking his head as if in denial.

Billy shrugs, "Wouldn't've made you cry if it was nothing."

Steve's mouth falls open slightly, jaw hanging as Billy's blue eyes pierce through him. "I- I'm not- I mean I wasn't-"

"Do I look blind to you? Geez, I mean it's not like you tried to hide it."

Steve swallows uncomfortably and looks away, shaking his head. "I didn't know how to- ...should've worn my friggin Ray Bans."

Billy shrugs, "Not like you can hide it now. Forget about them. They're assholes."

"I just-" Steve starts, but then bites his tongue, not really used to venting to another human being who actually was listening to him. But then Billy prompts, "You just what?"

He sighs heavily. "I just wish they would give a crap about me, that's all."

Billy's silence leaves room for him to give his parents an excuse for bailing on his graduation ceremony.

"I mean, they're probably so tired of me just barely scraping by a passing grade that they'd just assumed my GPA would be horrible and that I wouldn't graduate-"

"Shut up Harrington. That's not it, trust me."

Steve finally blinks up at him, brown eyes glassy with tears. They're red and swollen around the lids- he's been crying for a while. Billy hates the way it breaks his fucking chest and makes him feel indescribable things at the same time. Like, in one moment, he hated the idea of Steve crying, because it meant that he was hurt; but in the next moment, he sort of got turned on by how gorgeous Steve looked when he cried.

"You should be proud that you graduated is all I'm saying," he finally says, tearing his gaze away from the Bambi-esque brunette. "Your parents didn't show? Who cares? Fuck em. They didn't put in the hard work, you did."

Steve smiles through his tears and shakes his head, wiping furiously at his eyes. "Maybe you're right."

Billy snorts proudly. "Of course I'm fucking right. What d'you take me for?"

Steve shoves him playfully, rolling his eyes as Billy shoves him back, nearly toppling his ass over into the pile of scrap metal just a few inches away. He grabs onto Billy, gasping when the blonde yanks him back to safety by the collar of his tshirt. They're nose to nose in seconds, steely blue eyes glaring hard at soft brown ones. Steve gulps slowly, licking at his lips for some reason.

Billy is longing for a lick too, but he reigns his sudden emotions in and releases Steve's collar instead. His hand wanders over to the boy's pale neck, hand caressing the soft skin there. Steve's criminally long lashes flutter against his prominent cheekbones, lips parting slightly as he revels in the warm touch.

"Okay?"

Steve seems confused by the question at first, but then he blinks a few times to shake off the fog of arousal that accosted him and offers Billy a nervous smile. The hurt in his chest seems to melt away at Billy's warmth.

"Much better," he replies softly, placing a hand over Billy's, still caressing his neck.

[draculcid]

I SEE IT I SEE IT

[miracleonicefanfiction]

You need to read this one!!

https://my.w.tt/c7KdWPib4ab