#jonathan is kinda shitty towards the start but tries to make it up by the end and mostly does that. nancy is conflicted bc of steve so -
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pt 9! fic can also be found on ao3, user is the same over there. part 1 of Extended Hours can be found here.
i've got a river running right into you
It’s been about an hour and Steve still hasn’t been able to make his move.
Steve has to remind himself to play it cool, remembers what Robin said about everyone here being chill and her plan–
“Most of them are like us! I made sure with Munson when I invited him, we can trust his group to be lowkey. And obviously we already know Cheech and Chong don’t hang out with weirdos. Or, at least not the weird kind of weirdos– fuck, you know what I mean. They’re chill! You know that shitty saying, blah blah blah and finding our people? Well we found them, we can be ourselves tonight, promise. Besides, I have a plan. Eddie kinda fucked it just now but I have the whole thing handled, dingus, trust me.”
It was pretty easy to lose track of everything after Eddie's grand entrance. Steve was determined to play his part as the responsible host, to keep Nancy at ease by confiscating the keys of each new group that arrived, and it was enough of a distraction, at first. Then, when it seemed like everyone Robin, Argyle, Jonathan, and Eddie mentioned (and then some) had made it, Steve figured he was finally in the clear to make his move, but no.
Everytime he would catch sight of the other man across the room he had Chrissy by his side, shooting Steve tauntingly innocent smiles as she wrapped herself around Eddie and pulled all of his attention towards herself. That, or he was being whisked away to the backyard by someone who wanted to make a sale, and Steve knew better than to tread over the guy's side business.
Steve reminds himself that he still has the rest of the night to get their moment but goddamn was it hard to remember why. Especially since every time Eddie would waltz back into the house after an exchange he would be rearranging his hair because the clip was struggling to keep his hair off his neck, the curls at constant odds with the humid pool-side air.
He tries to keep himself distracted, figures he can't agonize (he can admit it now) over him if he's preoccupied with something, anything else.
It's just–
Argyle and Jonathan never really rejoined the main party, opting to take over the sunroom to laze about with a mix of theirs and Eddie’s stoner friends, making their own sales transactions of Argyle’s Delights, his batches of baked edibles. Mostly they just vibed in their stoner bubble.
Then there's Nancy and Robin who had already abandoned him way before, almost immediately after Steve fulfilled Chrissy's requests. As Robin had jokingly put it, she couldn’t stand to watch him “pathetically pine” anymore, and so she disappeared with Nancy and they were… somewhere, Steve doesn’t know. And since they’re gone and Jon and Argyle are otherwise occupied, it’s the reason he finds himself in the company of the friends of his friends where his attempts to distract himself feel all too limited.
It eventually starts to mellow out and folks slowly stop dancing, Don’t Bring Me Down ironically bringing everyone down into a post-dance sesh calm. They start to clear the living room, some making their way into the kitchen for refreshers or heading towards the pool, their clothes getting discarded in the corner that leads into the sunroom as they make their way out the sliding glass door. That’s when Steve catches sight of Eddie by the music deck, speaking animatedly with Gareth. There’s no Chrissy nearby to intercept his attempts to approach him, Steve notes, and he thinks now is his chance.
He excuses himself from the group he’s been somewhat a part of, too distracted thinking of molten doe eyes and unkissed full lips to have been part of any real conversation.
The mixtape reaches its end at that exact moment, so as Steve slowly approaches, Eddie’s attention is on the player. Gareth, bless him, notices Steve as he nears and immediately throws up an assuring OK with his thumb and pointer, giving Steve an encouraging wink that makes his dimples surface before he's disappearing all together.
Eddie doesn't notice any of this, thinks he's still talking to his friend as Steve shuffles in behind him.
"–and again dude, I'm sorry. Alright, it was a complete dickhead move of me to assume and meddle–" Steve can't see his face but knows Eddie's eyes are rolling, " –in your lives. Okay, so please accept my sincerest apologies for trying to make something out of nothing. Chris already gave me the rundown but I don’t plan to do anything with this new found information. Scouts honor.
"But damn, now that she’s told me, how did I not see it? She totally has a thing for Bails, can’t believe–"
"Chrissy doesn't have a thing for Gareth?"
"– jesus shit fuck dicks, where the hell did you come from Harrington, holy." Eddie's hand is at his chest, lashes fluttering as he registers that Gareth is not by his side, quick scan of the space confirming that he’s not even in the room anymore. Eddie gives his head a light shake, his brows relaxing as a strained breath slips past his lips. He flings a hand out to lightly push at Steve's shoulder but he doesn’t get pushed all that far, Eddie’s fingers trailing down Steve's arm and clutching at the sleeve of his sweater to gently pull him into his space.
"Shit, I’m scaring everyone tonight. It's just me, Just Steve," he teases, a chuckle escaping him as he allows himself to be swayed to-and-fro by Eddie who starts to push and pull at him again, until he’s just pulling. Steve stands directly in front of him, letting his hand reach for Eddie’s waist while his other hand finds itself near his face, fingers tracing featherlight sweeps across his forehead to clear his eyes, tucking back flyaway strands before allowing his hand to settle on the side of his neck. “Thought you liked scary movies, Munson.”
Eddie pouts, eyes trained on his fingers that pinch the hem of the fabric of Steve’s yellow sweater. “Well, Just Steve, I’ll have you know that what I like about scary movies is the anticipation of the scares that come with watching them, not necessarily getting scared. There’s a difference,” he mutters.
Steve laughs, shifting his weight and crowding in so that Eddie’s hands have to settle on his waist, the space between them almost nonexistent. Eddie looks up at Steve, eyes lidded and searching, always searching. He pulls in his bottom lip, biting along the corner. Steve watches the movement, his thumb reaching up to smooth away the angry redness of his lips but Eddie doesn’t let him, instead bites his thumb lightly before turning his back on him.
“Stop trying to distract me, Harrington. Organizing the music at a party is the priority. Well, I guess it would be booze and food, but let's be honest, what's the fuck a party without any good music,” he mutters, searching through the pile of tapes in front of him, inspecting the list of songs scrawled on each case before separating them into nonsensical piles that only make sense to him.
“True, but don’t you think that’s something the host should be handling?” Steve hums, crowding in close behind and resting his chin on Eddie's shoulder, the well worn battle vest smooth on his skin, peering over and watching him work through the player to eject the current track.
"The host, yes. You? Sweetheart, I mean full offense, but absolutely not," he says with a laugh, leaning back into Steve's chest. Steve’s arms wrap around Eddie, right hand splayed low over his stomach, pinky finger tracing the sliver of exposed skin his cut up shirt can’t cover up.
“I’m actually surprised I was able to recognize half the songs that just played. Was expecting to get a little of what Max brought for us to play at Extended yesterday. That tape had your name written all over it. Literally, E.R.M., in bright red marker all over the damn thing.”
"Well, someone has to think of the children. Gotta make sure they're being introduced to the good shit, start sorting them out while they're young. Speaking of…” Eddie's voice trails off as he turns his head slightly, his eyes still focused on his hands. Steve turns with him, tip of his nose trailing along the exposed skin of his neck.
Today he smells of a mix of apricot and apples, a hint of sweat and cigarette smoke just underneath. Steve’s hands move to Eddie’s hips, giving the shyest squeeze. Eddie exhales a breath when Steve's lips ghost over his shoulder and he sneaks his hands under his shirt.
Eddie’s own hands come down hard on the table, his fingers fumbling with the cassettes that fall loudly onto the mantle.
“Harrington, I'm trying to focus here."
"Oh, did you want me to stop?" Steve mumbles the words, brushing his lips back up Eddie’s neck, skimming along his hairline. He presses his lips, not really a kiss behind his ear and starts to pull away but Eddie doesn't let him get too far, twisting to get a hold of Steve's wrist and pulls until he's flush against his back.
"I didn't say that." They both start to laugh, and it seems he's already picked out the next tape to play and is about to insert it when a freckled hand is suddenly stopping him, pulling Eddie's hand and the tape away from the slot.
"Munson, you already know what I'm going to say."
“Robs,” Steve huffs, an annoyed sigh escaping him as Eddie pulls away from Steve's grasp, the tape clattering onto the table. “I know you like to be the one in charge of the music but just–”
And this is when things between Steve and Eddie come to a sudden stop because now Steve has someone else entirely keeping him from making a move, and it’s his best friend, platonic soulmate, the one with a plan that apparently involves her getting directly in the middle.
Things are at a halt and the moment is gone because now Robin and Eddie can't come to an agreement. They're toe-to-toe, scowls darkening their faces into something boarding close to Mike's signature look. Eddie doesn’t want to hand over the reins and is adamant that he should be in charge of the music for the rest of the night.
They've officially been going back and forth for the last five minutes and have been so engrossed in their bickering they hadn't realized Argyle had already put one of his own tapes into the deck.
Steve at one point mentions his boombox and offers to set it up outside by the pool so they can both play their own thing just in different spaces but no, that’s wasn't good enough apparently. Nancy tries to insert herself as well, explaining that everyone seems to be enjoying Argyle’s music right now, that we can decide later and–
"Okay fine," Robin rushes to say. "The stonies can get a few more minutes of Dorian Grey but we're going to eventually get back to–"
" –my stuff!" they say simultaneously before they start arguing all over again. Steve and Nancy can only watch as the two go back and forth to make their points, their heads whipping between the two like it's the match point of a tennis tournament that won't stop teetering in the other's favor.
Eddie's features and stance begin to shift with each passing minute into what they can all recognize as his about to stand on a table and make a grand speech mode. Robin finally scoffs as she grabs hold of Eddie's elbow to drag him to the other side of the room before he can start, her deadpan stare the pin that pops Eddie's bubble before he over inflates.
Steve shares confused looks with Nancy, because seriously, what the fuck, but she just shrugs. "Let them finish their pissing contest. Robin was going on and on about some master plan and you know how she gets when she has her mind set on something and she wants to see it through, I just… I'll go get us new drinks." With a final fond glance in Robin's direction she sighs and disappears to the kitchen.
Steve tears his eyes away reluctantly and wanders over to his sunroom, watching the large circle of stoners he only half recognizes take turns passing around some joints. It looks like they've brought in a few chairs from outside and someone went through the effort to get some of the spare metal folding chairs he had in the garage.
Steve slips by to check on the folks outside in the pool where he spots Chrissy and Gareth talking while sitting on the edge of the diving board, legs in the water and staring up at the sky. Eddie's comments about them replays in his head and he starts to wonder what's actually going on between them, but only for a moment because suddenly there's the thrum of hands and feet thudding in lieu of a drumroll behind him.
He turns his attention back to the stoners, the first thing catching his eye being Jonathan who has Argyle in the space between his legs again. Eden’s at the foot of their chair having an enamored conversation with a girl dressed in her complete opposite, pastels a contrast to her black attire. Jonathan is watching Argyle’s fingers with heavy lidded eyes, transfixed by Argyle’s mess of yellow yarn that’s tangled into an intricate pattern.
Argyle holds his hands above his head, seemingly done making twists and turns with the string, a proud grin taking over his face. Jonathan pokes a practiced finger into one of the holes and Argyle chuckles as he pulls his hands farther apart, the cat’s cradle collapsing and weaving itself around Jonathan's finger.
Steve smiles for the pair and is about to leave the group to their own devices when they suddenly start a low hum of cheering. It's then he notices the empty beer bottle in the center where the tip of the bottle is pointed at Heather, a friend of Eddie's and member of the club. He watches as Jordan, he thinks that's her name at least, crawls over the bottle. Heather takes shallow sips from her cup, eyes laser focused over the lip as the other girl approaches. A few others in the room start to whistle as they get closer to each other but it's immediately interrupted by Argyle.
"Don't be weird horndogs over a kiss, man.”
Someone, Steve’s not even going to bother to pretend he knows what his name is, scoffs."Not being weird, dude. Damn, do you know how long Heather's been crushin' on Jo?"
Heather chokes on her drink as panic flashes across her face but suddenly she's just gone because Jordan has thrown herself into her, the cup toppling over and spilling onto the person next to them who just keels over into a cackling fit. Steve can't see their faces, Jordan's long hair obscuring the two as they… talk?
Everyone starts to mutter amongst themselves, watching whatever is happening unfold. After a long tense minute passes the two resurface. Then the group starts wolf-whistling, clapping for the two as they walk out the sliding glass doors hand-in-hand.
Steve can only stand and watch as everyone settles into comfortable conversation, others haggling bills between won and lost bets. His eyebrows are making an attempt to retreat into his hairline, the synapses in his brain trying to compute what just went down because what the fuck? When the hell did bumfuck Hawkins get so… queer? He knows Robin said everyone here tonight was “chill,” but actually seeing it unfold before him like this is such a mindfuck.
A random hand reaches out for the bottle in the center but the bottle ends up being lightly kicked away into a corner. "Fuck off, man. Games over," Jonathan says between giggles as he readjusts himself, pulling his leg back with a hand tracing patterns absentmindedly over Argyle's chest who’s completely unbothered.
Steve makes his way back into the living in a light daze after that, eyes immediately honing in on Eddie and Robin still conversing in the corner. Robin is extending her hand between them, the line of her lips and shine in her eyes signaling to Steve she's won their argument and she knows it. Eddie rolls his shoulders forward to sink his hands into his front jeans pocket, staring at her hand in consideration for a long moment before he finally takes her hand in his to give a single agreeable shake.
So, it looks like they’ve come to an agreement. How? Steve has no idea. All he knows is that right now Jon and Argyle’s group get to enjoy some Dorian Zero and Bob Marley while they bake in the sunroom before Robin takes over. Why she's so adamant about this one thing he has no idea, but whatever, Steve’s giving up on trying to understand her plan.
Eddie spins and he and Steve make eye contact. He pulls at a few strands of hair to hide a growing blush that's working its way to paint his whole face. Steve is about to make his way over when Jeff approaches Eddie, pulling on his arm and all Steve can do is watch him get whisked away from him again.
Robin skips over to Steve, putting her hands on his shoulders, her smile too contagious he can't even pretend to be annoyed with her. Still won't stop him from trying.
"Whatever plan you have, it better work, Buckley. I barely had the chance to talk to him all week. He was either too busy with work or he was helping Wayne with his truck or the Mayfields out around their place. And you know what a fucking disaster it's been with the kids all week. I've been waiting for tonight and, honestly, I don't get how you being the biggest cock block, over music of all things, is supposed to help. I was this close," he grumbles as she drops her hands to grab a hold of his, swinging his arms with hers to the beat of music.
"You're just going to have to trust me, dingleberry."
"Yeah yeah… I guess I should update you on the Chrissy and Gareth thing.”
—----------
"So Chrissy doesn't have a thing for Gareth?" Robin's eyes were glazed over, trying to put together this new information.
She looks over to Steve who just shrugs his shoulders. Robin scoffs, directing her attention to Nancy who just sat down with them on the floor, a bowl of chips and Robin's drink she had to go back for in her hands. "But last week Eddie said… Okay, so that's what you heard…. Nance, run it back. What exactly did you overhear from Jeff and him just now?"
Nancy passes out the refilled cup to Robin, her head immediately falling on the taller girl’s shoulder. The three are currently gathered in a circle on Steve's living room floor, Argyle’s mixtapes a low buzz in the background.
"I'm only going to say this once. It doesn't feel right gossiping about our friends. Are we friends? Whatever, I feel bad for eavesdropping either way. I wasn't trying to listen in on their conversation but, to be fair, Munson is kind of loud and hard to ignore," Nancy mumbles, slipping a salted chip into her mouth.
"God, this is so high school" Steve mutters, hunching and scooting in close, his knees butting against theirs as he grabs a handful of chips. Nancy takes a drink to clear her throat, then makes herself comfortable with her head in Robin's lap and just talks to the chandelier that hangs above.
"From what I overheard, Chrissy has been trying to help Gareth get together with Alana. Guy has been head over heels for her ever since she performed that drum solo at last year's talent show–”
“That was a good solo,” Robin mumbles, nodding along in consideration.
“–and she's been trying to help him work up the courage to ask her out. Chrissy has a thing for someone else–"
"Eddie called him 'Bails," Steve supplies around a mouthful of chips.
"–right, ‘Bails’, who’s apparently in the school's marching band."
Robin's eyes go glossy as she goes through the list of band members who could have caught cheerleading captain Christine Elizabeth Cunningham's attention. Images of her bandmates in compromising positions flash before her in that moment and she cringes internally. The band kids doing drugs might have flown under her radar but she’s more than aware of how sex-crazed those dorks could be, stumbling upon one too many make-out sessions in the instrument lock-up room.
That kinda shit typically stayed within the band kids circle. Dating outside of that was uncommon since everyone got pretty close during summer practice, but it was known to happen, most often with the drama club circle. That being said, she still can't picture any guy who'd have Chrissy's attention that lined up with Eddie's given nickname. There was Bailey Fogden, but there’s no way she could be crushing on him, the kid was a freshman.
Nancy continues.
"Chrissy and Gareth were spending a lot of time together trying to convince each other to make a move and Eddie just read them wrong. Something about away games and having to share the charters between the team, cheerleaders, and the band-”
“Yeah, that happens,” Robin mutters absentmindedly.
“– and there was a moment. She had to share a seat with him and it's just been this thing… I don't know, that's all I got. Eddie was giving Jeff the rundown before he gave him the keys to his van to pick them up.”
"So much for his promise to stop meddling," Steve quips.
“Reminds me of someone.” Nancy directs that at Robin with a teasing smirk. “Anyways, we’ll figure out who this ‘Vic Bails’ is soon enough. ”
“Shut the fuck up.” Robin mumbles.
“Huh?”
"Fuck me, I’m– not you, Wheels, I’m so sorry, that wasn’t directed at you. I'm sorry but did you just say Vic?" Robin's fingers that had been carding through Nancy's hair go to cover her own eyes, dread laced in each word that follows. "As in Vicky? As in Victoria Ann Marie Bailey?"
“Shut the fuck up,” Steve breathes. Robin's head drops, hair covering her face as she buries her face into her hands before her hands move to grab at her stomach, eyes screwed shut as a maniacal laugh erupts from her, head now thrown back. Steve can’t help but start laughing with her, finally caught up to the deduction that Robin’s already made.
Nancy looks between the two the best she can from her angle but sits up to better try to read their expressions, a chuckle bubbling up along with their contagious laughter. "What’s so funny? I know Vicky. I don’t know her all that well, but she's nice. She helps with the bake sale every semester. Does Chrissy not have a chance or something?”
Robin is hiccuping for air.
"Oh Cunningham has a chance. Two words, Wheeler. Band camp.” Steve tries to hide his laughter behind his cup as he takes a drink, leaning back to avoid Robin’s leg that suddenly sweeps at him.
“Steve, shut up!” Robin wants to look annoyed but then another wave of laughter overtakes her and she’s falling over, hiding her face in Nancy’s lap.
“Band camp?” Nancy rubs soothing circles behind Robin’s neck, brows pinched in consideration. “Band camp… Steve mentioned someone that day after– wait… Ba– Bailey– oh my god.” She covers her mouth, eyes wide with realization. It makes Steve laugh even harder that he starts choking on his drink. He falls back, mindful to set his cup down before it spills over the floor he went through all that effort to mop up.
“What’s so funny?”
They all stop, Eddie's voice cutting through their small circle and they all stare up at him from their spot on the floor. A beat of silence until they're all laughing again, Nancy folding over Robin's head in her lap.
Eddie plops down next to Steve, crossing his legs with his knees up, arms wrapping around them. Steve tries to sit up but can only get himself half up onto his elbow, wiping at a stray tear from his eye as Robin and Nancy uncurl from each other and they all try to calm themselves.
"Nothing, Munson." Robin is still giddy as she moves to stand, clearing the floor of their cups and the bowl of chips before extending her hand out to Nancy on the floor. "Wanna dance?"
"Oh, we're–" Eddie looks over to Steve, immediately averts them when Steve glances at him to look back up at Robin, that blush creeping up his neck again. "We're doing this now?" Steve looks between the two, confused. It seems Robin let him in on her plan too and he's the only one officially out of the loop.
But she just asked Nancy to dance… is that it? Her plan is for them to dance?
"Come on, up up." Robin makes her way over to the player, inharmoniously ejects Argyle's track and pulls her own cassette that Steve doesn't recognize out of her pocket, quick to insert it but doesn't hit play just yet. When she finds Steve and Eddie still on the floor she groans, reaches for their collars and tugs. "I said up."
"Ow, okay!"
"Jeez, relax, Bobby."
They both scramble up, pulling their collars down and brushing down their shirts. Eddie is chewing his bottom lip, that blush officially overtaking his face. He's nervous.
Why?
Nancy takes Eddie's hand and he turns to face her. She leans in, whispers something in his ear that only makes him start to cover his face with his hair again. She gives him an encouraging smile and lets him go, making her way over to the sunroom where she makes a quiet announcement that makes Argyle cheer outright above the rest.
"I'm in, we're in, I'm always in, you don't have to tell me twice. Come on, everyone up… Trust, trust, it’ll be fun. Try before you deny, it’s a fucking blast. Byers, my man, ándale, vas a bailar conmigo. Robby hit play!"
Steve is so goddamn lost but he just goes along with it. "Buckley this better be the best goddamn mixtape ever or else I'm never making you my chocolate chip pancakes again."
Robin gasps offendedly as she hits play, cranking the volume to the highest setting. "How dare you doubt me." She extends her hand to him and Steve hesitantly takes it just as the music starts and trumpets blare from the speakers throughout the house.
Steve goes through the three stages of shock within the span of a second, Robin doesn't give him time to process it any longer. She's swaying her hips and stepping in quick rhythmic steps in time to the music, pulling and leading Steve into practiced steps along with her.
"Robs, really? This is your master plan?" He mutters annoyedly, feels himself tensing into the dance, pulling her so she can twirl under his arm if only to get her close enough to poke harshly between her ribs.
"Yes really! Why do you think I was so worked up when Munson took over the music? Dancing to this kind of music is so much fun! And nothing–" she pulls him close, still in time to the music. They're so close that Steve’s eyes end up crossing as she stands on tiptoe to grab his face, pinching at the cheeks with her fingers so that his lips are forced into a pout. "– and I mean nothing, Steve Harrington, is more fun, charming, and downright hot than teaching someone how to dance to it," she whispers. releasing his face and giving his shoulder a gentle tap to turn him gently into Eddie's space.
Eddie looks like a doe caught in the headlights when Steve stumbles in front of him, arms crossed tightly across his chest. Steve's heart is a millisecond from beating right out of his own as the pieces start to come together. He decides in that moment that he’s never been so ready to kill his favorite headache.
Sure, Robin taught him how to dance to this stuff and he's gotten pretty good in the last week, has been able to keep up with her when they dance together, but that's because she's usually the one leading. When they started playing the music at Extended the kids begged for a lesson and Steve couldn't resist those pleading eyes from Riley and Suzie, so the kids and himself got a pretty good formal lesson from Robin that took up almost the entire day. The boys wanted to act put out but no one looked as determined to not step on their counterparts toes as Lucas and Dustin did with Suzie and Max.
And you see, he did all that dancing with Robin. Nothing about those lessons felt charming and it definitely wasn't hot. He also never took the lead, not once. It was fun though, he can agree with that much.
Argyle and Robin are giving tips to those trying to learn how to dance along behind him and he gets a small shove from someone stumbling into him, the crowd growing as folks join in on the chaos. Steve doesn’t bother to see who, doesn’t care because right now the only thing that has his attention is Eddie and the way he’s worrying the corner of his mouth, eyes on everyone dancing behind Steve.
Steve decides then that he can do this. He will do this if it means it'll remove that deprecating look from Eddie's face. Steve steps to the side, gets into Eddie’s line of sight and holds both hands out in front of him. Eddie doesn’t take them, instead screws up his face and steps forward so that Steve’s hands can only settle on his arms.
“I can’t dance, Harrington. Bobby is really, and I mean really overestimating my abilities to keep up to this. I didn’t even know this was a thing y'all got into. Santana is maybe the closest I’ve gotten to it? And yeah, sure, I play the guitar, and I’m still learning to get better at the drums and I can stay on beat no fuckin’ problem and–”
“Eddie.”
“–I can headbang my way into whiplash, right, jump and run around when the band performs at the Hideout. I can go through the motions of getting suggestive with my guitar, sex sells a lot of bands, I know how to do that much, alright, and I can do the whole sway in place like your everyday wallflower at a school dance, but dude that’s it. I'm going to look so stupid, I don’t know what she thinks you can do to help me. I’ve got two Baggins’ sized left feet and–”
“Eddie.”
Eddie sucks in a breath as Steve leans in, screwing his mouth into a tight line and just stares up at Steve like a lost puppy who strayed too far from home, eyes begging to be saved. Steve runs his hands up and down Eddie's arms, his skin surprising cold for how warm the room is. He trails his hands down his arms to place over his wrists , rubbing his thumb along the back of his hands.
"You won't look stupid. I'll make myself look like an idiot before I let you trip over yourself. Promise."
Eddie doesn't look convinced but he uncrosses his arms, taking Steve's hands gingerly. Steve tries to adjust them into the starting position Robin showed him. He has to be mindful to mirror their positions and making himself the lead, has to take a moment to get his lefts and rights in order.
Or at least he tries to but Eddie's every move is almost unyielding, reluctant to follow through. Steve directs Eddie’s hands onto his hips to free his own, placing his hands on either side of the other man's face as he gets close.
Steve bends at the knees, lightly knocking into Eddie's own, directing his face and asking with the movement for Eddie to please just look at him, to hear him. Seeing Eddie like this, so unsure of himself, makes Steve’s chest ache. He's also quite positive the pathetic pout of his lips is going to kill him.
"Can you trust me?"
Eddie doesn't respond, at least not with words. Instead he takes Steve’s hands and positions them the way Steve was trying to originally, determination setting over his lips. They’d been going back and forth for so long the first song already ended and Steve hears clapping along with compliments being thrown out to names that don't matter to him, at least not right now.
"Just stay with me. Focus on me. I gotcha, Munson."
The next song starts playing and those trumpets and the fast beat of the percussion ring out, thankfully slower than the last. Steve pulls Eddie into the center of bodies swaying, feeling the trumpet and the ringing of the drums deep in his bones. Eddie is watching their feet and Robin’s voice sneaks up on Steve.
“Feel me, don’t watch me. Looking at my feet isn’t going to help you, the music will.”
With Eddie’s right hand still in his he leads both their hands to Eddie’s chin, lightly knocking it up so that Eddie’s eyes find his own. He straightens his back, resets their position and they start moving.
It’s tense, not entirely bad but also not great. No matter how much Steve tries to, he can't get Eddie to relax into it. He watches as Eddie's eyes slip towards their feet every few steps, wincing when he almost steps on Steve’s toes. Eddie's at least trying, shy and endearing with the tip of his tongue peaking out between his lips, his brows furrowed in concentration.
An idea pops into his head then and Steve remembers the way he and Robin helped the kids who were struggling just the same– by standing behind them arms length away, their small middle school frames easy to direct with Robin and his hands on their shoulders, helping them learn to feel the music as they danced with their partners between them.
He lets his grip of their hands slacken and Eddie’s face winces in apology, assuming he’s already given up on him but Steve only shakes his own head, beckoning for him to move closer.
"Harrington, it's okay. Look, we tried! I'm telling you–"
“Let’s try something else. Come here." Steve grabs Eddie by the hips and turns him, pulls him until he's flush against him. With his hands on Eddie's hips, knees against the back of his, chest against his back, he gets close enough to brush his lips at the nape of his neck. He cocks his head to the side, eyes trained on the divot that makes Eddie’s collar bone. Eddie somehow gets more rigid in their new position, his grip on Steve’s hands over his hips tightening.
"Steve–"
"Move with me." It's barely a breath against Eddie's skin but he can feel the way he shivers at the words, knees going slack and he's basically in Steve's lap. Steve chuckles through it, giving Eddie's hip a squeeze. "Okay, now…"
It slowly gets better as they start to move more fluidly, with Steve keeping their dancing at about half the speed, dragging out the beat with each step. They continue on like that as Steve lightly knocks his knee behind Eddie's so he steps forward, then squeezing at his hip to signal he needed to take a step back, alternating with each step along to the beat of the music. For the rest of this song and the next Steve can feel Eddie’s body loosen with each subtle give of direction.
Slowly Eddie’s moves get more confident and Steve doesn’t feel like he’s so much directing his movements and instead is leading with him, slowly picking up their pace until they’re moving with the beat of the music in tandem. When the next song starts he gives Eddie’s hips a final reassuring squeeze, buries his face into the crook of his neck in an attempt to suppress the proud smiles that’s threatening to over take his face.
“I said I had you, didn’t I?” he murmurs, nose skimming Eddie’s cheek as he turns towards his face. Steve can’t see his face clearly but he gives a shy press of his lips against the dimple that appears there. Steve takes hold of Eddie’s hand, nudges at his side to spin him out and they get to dance together, face to face.
Slowly throughout the mixtape the tone shifts from fast paced songs, ones that left them dancing swiftly and barely clutching at each other's fingertips at half arm lengths, steadily towards something more languid.
Steve leads Eddie closer into his arms, holding Eddie’s right hand with his left, his right arm circling around his waist, pinky finger raveling around the belt loop of his jeans as his hand splays across his lower back. Eddie's left arm slips over Steve's shoulder, fingers toying with the sweat-damp hairs at the nape of his neck. Steve watches a bead of sweat pool into the divot of Eddie’s collarbones.
"You're actually not a bad teacher. Remind me to bring you an apple for extra credit on Monday," Eddie teases, swaying forward to close the final bit of space between themselves, fingers tugging playfully at the strands between his fingers when Steve scoffs. "What?"
Steve shrugs. “Just… really? Me, a teacher?"
"Yes, you! I was ready to give up and bolt but you're so goddamn persistent. And you were patient. You got this look on your face,” Eddie murmurs, moving his hand from around his neck to lightly sweep his thumb in the space between Steve’s brows. “You were so determined to help me, to teach me. I wasn't getting it at first yet you were able to come up with an alternative way to show me. God, if my teachers were even half as willing to put in the effort to accommodate me I think I could have graduated last year. And from what I hear from the kids? I have no doubt, you'd be a great teacher. Mr. H does have a nice ring to it,” he lilts, lopsided smile going directly to Steve’s heart as he moves his arm back around his neck.
"Mr. H…." Steve hums at the compliment as his lips downturn at the corners in consideration, his chest swelling with warmth at the praise. "Ya know, Robin was actually the first person to suggest it, that I go for a teaching license. So if I'm being honest the thought has crossed my mind. She’s on track to graduate with a few college credits and wants me to enroll with her for the summer after graduation.”
“See, that’s two votes for Mr. H!”
Steve chuckles, lightly shaking his head at the prospects. “What would I even teach? I wasn’t great in school, I barely graduated–”
“Ahh, but you graduated and it was on your first go around, so you at least have that going for you. You have all this experience with the kids from working with them last year, and obviously Murray thought you did a great enough job that he had you come back this year. You could do gen ed, work with elementary, maybe even middle school kids? Teach a little of everything throughout the day…” Eddie shrugs as he tilts his head to the side so his hair covers part of his face. “Think about it.”
“I’ll think about it,” Steve says with a smile, freeing their joint hands to brush back the loose strands to tuck behind his ears, his other hand absentmindedly rubbing soothing circles with his thumb along Eddie’s lower back. He unhooks his pinky finger to splay his hand and press them closer together, their legs tangling as he slots his thigh between Eddie’s and suddenly all Steve can think about is how good he feels.
The song changes and it’s slow, slower than anything that’s played before. There are no blaring trumpets, just the trill of piano, soft beat of the drums. His body is moving to the music on autopilot, which leaves Steve suddenly acutely aware of Eddie, aware of his proximity, his apple mahogany shampoo, the way his thigh is pressed against him between his own and suddenly he wants.
His hand that had been brushing back Eddie’s hair sits at his neck and all Steve can do to keep from just grabbing his face and devouring him is drop his hand, slipping it down his neck, thumb sweeping over his jaw and across his collarbone, all to just trace the thread that holds a patch of a skull surrounded by fire on the lapel of Eddie’s battle vest with the pad of his thumb.
It’s a pretty clean line, neat enough that Steve takes a moment to wonder if Eddie had someone else sew these in. Except he’s now remembering that Eddie plays guitar, which means he’s probably good with his fingers and– nope. Steve retracts his hands before his muddled mind wanders deeper into that gutter, hands forming restrained fists where they barely hover over Eddie’s hip and chest. Steve commits to staring only into his eyes and…
… Fuck, that really doesn't make it any easier.
It doesn’t make it easier because Eddie’s eyes are trained on Steve’s lips. And suddenly Steve can only focus on Eddie's hands. He’d snuck one of them under his sweater and he has to suppress the gasp that wants to escape him when the cold metal of his rings sears the skin of the small of his back, his other hand scratching soothingly against the nape of his neck. Eddie licks his lips and leaves them barely parted, the shine of them beckoning as a breath seemingly gets stuck in his throat.
Fuck it.
Steve bends at the knees before he presses forward, hips flush against Eddie's, his hand now trapped between their bodies. He shuffles forward, pulling his trapped hand out to place it back to the side of his neck as he leans in, using his thumb to tilt Eddie’s face and he stops short of pressing their lips together. The gasp that escapes past Eddie's lips slips past Steve's and he swallows it down, heat building into a budding simmer low in his gut. The sound of Eddie's stifled moan as Steve presses his thigh against him goes straight through him as he moves to elicit another response.
He's going to do anything and everything to hear it again, to figure out what else he can do to hear more.
Forget booze, weed– this is the kind of high he wants to chase.
"Eddie." He barely breathes, is so intoxicated by everything that is Eddie Munson that for a moment he takes a moment to worry that there might actually be something wrong with him because he's so fucking far gone and he hasn't even kissed the guy yet.
"Steve."
Well at least it seems he's just as affected because there's the faintest hint of wavering in the way he says Steve's name. Eddie pulls at the strands of hair in his fingers, subtly shifts his legs to the beat of the music and now Steve is the one fighting back a satisfied sigh as Eddie gives a shy roll of his hip, the pressure just shy of being enough. Another tug, another forward press and Steve thinks he might evaporate into the air.
Steve's bottom lip ghosts against Eddie's as he sinks deeper, and they’re no longer moving to the music, just holding each like each the final raft of a sinking ship. He finally tangles his fingers into Eddie’s hair, fingering catching on that damn clip that's barely holding anything back.
"Can I kiss you?"
"If you don't do more than that I might actually have to kill you," he barely breathes the words before he’s pressing his lips against Steve’s.
Steve is no longer worried he’s going to evaporate into nothingness or if he's going to drown because all he can feel himself doing right now is falling, and he’s falling hard.
Desperate. It's the only way to describe the way Steve's lips part on a gasp because finally. Finally. He doesn't even give himself the chance to catch his breath before he's on Eddie again, lips harsh and begging for more. Eddie’s lips aren’t soft or pliant like Steve’s used to, so used to taking the lead and taking it slow, of directing the gradual flow of each kiss but Eddie is just as starved for control, using his grip of the back of Steve’s neck to tilt his head for another angle and taking the lead.
It’s anything but slow and Steve is more than happy to keep up with the pace. His fingers weave deeper between strands, doesn't stop reaching until he has his fist full and pulls. Eddie gasps against his lips, barely pulls away when Steve outright yanks. Steve tries to take the opportunity, wants to lick his way in into those parted lips but Eddie has his own plans because he’s suddenly biting down on Steve's bottom lip, and he’s biting hard.
Steve hisses against the sting and he can feel Eddie smile against his lips before he presses a soft kiss to the mark his teeth left, tongue making a sneaking sweep to cool the growing burn. Steve takes the opportunity to lick his way into Eddie’s mouth, the feeling going directly to his gut when their tongues slide together. Eddie breathes hitches as Steve shifts his legs, giving a gentle press of his thigh forward against Eddie’s own hardening line that’s been steadily pressing against his hip, and it makes Steve's own pulse race loudly in his own ears.
Not loudly enough.
“Oh my god, would you two please get a roooom, this is literally your house, dingus.”
Steve freezes, pulling away from Eddie’s lips with a pop as he remembers exactly where he is, what he was just doing, and who he was doing it with. He’d feel more embarrassed, but a quick scan of those around him tells him no one else is really paying them any mind. Everyone is either lost in their own groups of conversation or lost in their dance partners as much as he had been with Eddie.
He loosen the grip he has on Eddie, has to give his hands a slight shake because they’re buzzing, the ants revved up and begging for him to make contact again, to be sated against the touch of his skin. Steve almost steps away, key word almost, but the uncomfortable tightness of his jeans makes him hesitate.
He chokes on a cough to clear his throat, tries to subtly wrap his arms low around Eddie’s waist to keep their hips close. He turns to look at Nancy and Robin who are dancing just a few steps away, Robin’s face contorted in exaggerated disgust while Nancy attempts to hide her own laughter, pressing her face to Robin’s shoulder.
“We’ll get a room. I just, uhh, want to finish out this, um, song. It’s a good s-song,” he stutters, a chuckle rising up his chest as he redirects his attention back to Eddie who’s pulling his lips into a thin line, fighting back his own laugh.
“Right, it’s a good song, we’ll finish this one out. Then we’ll go find a room. You’ve got plenty of those around here.” Eddie’s smile is taunting and Steve presses a quick kiss to the corner of his mouth, swaying in closely to just dance as Eddie’s arms lock around his shoulders.
Steve glances over in time to watch as Robin wrinkles her nose in their direction, but the proud upturn corners of her lips give her away.
“Doubt me again, Harrington.”
“I won’t.”
part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7 | part 8 | part 9
if anyone cares, these were the songs that i had playing while steve was teaching eddie to dance, in order
-el día de mi suerte by Willie Colon, Héctor Lavoe
-qué pena by Lebrón Brothers
-rebelión by Joe Arroyo
-lejos de ti by Angel Canales
-volaré by Cortijo y Su Combo, Ismael Riverya
-hola soledad by Rolando Laerie
-el ratón by Cheo Feliciano y Joe Cuba Sextet
-la noche by Joe Arroyo, La Verdad
(the song they danced to was 'el raton')
#steddie#steddie fic#steve x eddie#steddie au#with a side of: ronance and jargyle+#stranger things au#steve harrington#eddie munson#robin buckley#nancy wheeler#fruity four#jonathan byers#argyle#fic continuation#extended hours#my*stuff
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Just Play Along
2/2 giveaway fics for my 1k follower celebration! This one is for @sciscoekid who requested fake dating!
Read on Ao3
Steve was staring at the paper.
It was nice paper, that thick cardstock reserved for events like this one.
Theodore and Karen Wheeler and proud to announce the marriage of their daughter, Nancy Elizabeth Wheeler, to Jonathan Matthew Byers.
She’s getting married. And gave Steve a plus one he can’t fill to a destination wedding he can’t afford.
Awesome.
Billy pushed past where he was standing in the kitchen, Steve barely budging at all.
“You okay, Pretty Boy?” Steve and Billy had lived together for nearly six years now.
It had been an accident, how they wound up together. Billy used to live across the hall from him, but as fate would have it, he was being kicked out by his then-boyfriend, while Steve was kicking out his then-girlfriend.
Steve was red-faced, wine drunk, pissed off at his cheating girlfriend, had pointed right at Billy.
“You a fucking cheater?”
“Nah. Bit of a drinker, though.”
“Great. You’re moving in with me.”
So the room that had once been Steve’s girlfriend’s craft room, was turned into Billy’s bedroom.
And it’s stayed like that since.
Billy whipped the invite outta his hands.
“Who’s this?”
“My ex-girlfriend.” Billy raised one eyebrow at him. “From high school, not the cheater. Although, I mean, she didn’t cheat on me, but we never really broke up and she started dating this guy,” Steve pointed to the invite, Nancy and Jonathan staring lovingly at one another. “And now I’m gonna go to their wedding alone, because I’m a fucking loser and-”
“Okay, deep breath.” Steve stared him down, taking a comically short breath. Billy stared at him. He took a deeper one. “Look, I can go with you, if you want.”
“It’s up in some resort town in Maine, and I’m broke as all hell.”
“I can spot it.” Steve huffed. “C’mon, Pretty Boy. Let’s go, get wildly drunk, and have a good time. You haven’t taken more than two days off in like, a year and a half.” Steve rolled his eyes.
“Fine.”
-
Steve had slept almost the entire flight.
He got nervous on airplanes, had taken a sleeping pill for the cross country flight. He had curled against Billy’s side, drooled on his shoulder for a few hours.
Billy watched him, the way he would snuffle, his nose twitching like a little rabbit. He smiled fondly at Steve, running one hand through his hair, trying to wake him up gently before touch down.
“Sugar, we’re here.” Steve blinked up at him, smiling sweetly and all Steve pretty.
Billy’s stomach fluttered.
-
The town was beautiful.
It was early fall, off season for a little resort town, and the main street was nearly dead.
Billy drove the rental car to the boutique hotel. Nancy had rented out a block of rooms for all the guests.
They pulled up, stretching as they got out of the car, Billy getting the bags from the back.
“Steve!” He smiled stiffly as Nancy threw herself down the stairs, wrapping him up in a tight hug. “It’s so good to see you.” She held him at arm's length. “Oh! And this must be your boyfriend. Billy, right?”
“Oh, he’s not-”
“Yep! Steve’s boyfriend. Nice to meet you.” He held out his hand to her, shaking it firmly, elbowing Steve.
Nancy led them into the hotel, chattering to Billy, asking them how long they’ve been together.
“Steve never tells me anything, anymore. Of course, he’s mentioned you, but he never said boyfriend, just, you know, Billy did the sweetest thing today.” Steve spoke with Nancy every few months on the phone.
“Well, it kinda happened accidentally. We had been living together for a while, but we both just wanted something more, you know? Just couldn’t resist each other.” Billy was laying it on thick.
They had reached their room, and Steve was gonna lose his shit.
There was only one bed.
Because Nancy had smugly updated them to a suite. A honeymoon suite.
She gave them each a hug before leaving them to get settled in.
“Why did you go with it? Tell her we’re together?” Billy shrugged.
“Drive her crazy. Seeing your ex happier with someone kinda sucks, even if you are getting married.”
“What, so you’re trying to make Nancy jealous?” Billy grinned at him.
“It’ll be fun. Just, play along.”
-
“Just play along.” Steve was mimicking snarkily. “It’ll be fun.”
He was in the huge bathroom in their huge suite. He was changing for dinner with the entire Hawkins crew, introducing them all to his fake boyfriend for the first time.
He yanked on a sweater, combing through his hair one last time before sighing into the mirror.
He’s been in love with Billy for years now.
Pretty much ever since he’s moved in. And it’s hard enough, pining from across the hall for your roommate, but now a roommate that you’re sharing a bed with, and telling everyone you’re together, Steve is fucking over it.
He let himself out of the bathroom, glowering at Billy.
He was shirtless, going through his suitcase on the luggage rack at the end of the big bed.
It’s not like Steve has never seen him topless, hell, Billy tends to walk around the apartment butt naked.
But now Steve is in this predicament, and the last thing he wants to see is Billy’s golden, gorgeous body.
Billy stood up, smiling at him.
“You ready?” Steve nodded as Billy tugged on a button down shirt, leaving the top few undone, showing off his tan chest, a few of his tattoos.
They were quiet in the elevator, and then, just as the doors were sliding open, Billy settled one arm around Steve’s waist, pulling him into his side.
He smelled great, like the deep cologne he only brought out for special occasions. He leaned to Steve’s ear, made him shiver as he rasped,
“Play along, Sugar.”
He pulled Steve to the restaurant across the street, smiling at the hostess and saying Byers-Wheeler wedding?
Everyone cheered when they saw Steve, and his heart panged a bit. He really needed to get back to Hawkins more often.
Hugs were passed around, and they all found their seats.
“Why didn’t you tell us you and Billy had started dating?” Steve smiled at Joyce sheepishly.
“It was such a natural transition for us, I guess. We just kinda, fell into one another.” Steve’s pretty sure he heard that in a movie or pulled it right from a shitty young adult novel.
“Well, you two are sweet.” She smiled at them.
And Billy swooped forward, kissing Steve right on the cheek. Steve’s face burned.
“Oh, come on! Give him a real kiss!” Steve glared at Dutin as the whole gang began jeering at them, wolf-whistling and causing a damn commotion.
Steve shot the rest of his wine, grabbed Billy’s cheeks, and planted a fat one on him.
-
They were quiet as they made their way back up to their room, Billy trudging a few feet behind Steve.
He was terrified he had overstepped his bounds by kissing Billy. He had been so quiet after that, so drawn into himself through the rest of dinner.
He sequestered himself back in the bathroom, changing into his pajamas.
When he returned, Billy was sitting back in the bed.
“Hey, I’m sorry about earlier. I just wanted them all to shut the hell up.” He fidgeted with the hem of his t-shirt. Billy watched him for a second, smiling up at him.
“Nah, Pretty Boy. It’s okay. Just not the way I woulda done it.” Steve swallowed thickly.
“What does that mean?” Billy stood up slowly.
He walked forward, made Steve feel small, made him feel like Billy took up all the space in the room.
He took Steve’s wrist, tugging him close to his body.
Steve’s breath hitched as Billy slid his arms around his waist.
When their lips touched it was nothing like in the restaurant.
They both moved slow, just a gentle press into one another.
Billy's hands were warm, searing his skin through his shirt. His lips were as soft as Steve had always thought they’d be, dreamed they’d be.
He pulled away, Steve’s eyes still closed.
“That’s how I woulda done it.” And he was gone, the bathroom door closing softly behind him.
Steve pretended to be asleep when he came out of the shower.
The bed dipped behind him. Billy always ran hot, ran like a fucking furnace.
He scooted closer to Steve in the small bed. The sheets were soft. Billy tugged on the blanket, and Steve was scooched back.
His eyes were wide in the dark, his back pressed against Billy’s side.
Billy breathed deeply. Steve’s sweatshirt had ridden up in the back, and their skin pressed together.
It felt like Steve was being burned, Billy’s skin so hot against his. He tried to get away, but the soft mattress gave too much, kept rolling them into one another.
“Relax, Baby.” Billy’s voice was gruff. He sounded half-asleep. “Can hear you thinkin’ from here.”
“Sorry. Goodnight.” And then Billy rolled a bit more, his front pressed into Steve’s side. One thick arm draped over Steve, and all the air was knocked right from his lungs.
“‘Night, Sweet Thing.”
-
Steve had avoided Billy at all costs the next day.
He had gotten up before the sun to go on a run, get breakfast from a little cafe down the street.
He only saw him back in the room, both their wedding suits hanging neatly on the bathroom door.
“Hey.” Billy’s smile was relaxed. Steve’s was less so. “You ready for this shindig?” Steve just nodded.
-
The ceremony was short and sweet. Nancy looked beautiful in her delicate lace dress. Their vows were lovely, and Steve definitely teared up.
He was able to avoid Billy more at the reception, staying on the dancefloor and not looking towards his seat next to Billy’s.
Until he turned around, turned around, and saw Billy pressed against a cater waiter, smirking down at him like he was gonna eat him.
Steve took a shaky breath.
And Billy looked up, bright blue eyes meeting his across the way.
And Steve ran.
The reception was outside, made it real easy for Steve to sprint down the road.
“Steve!” He kept running, put his head down, and went. “Steve, can you slow down?” Steve stopped abruptly, his chest heaving. He flopped onto a bench, tugging his jacket tighter around him. Billy slammed down next to him, panting hard. “Christ, Pretty Boy, you’re a fuck of a lot faster than I was expectin’.”
“Swam in high school. Got a lotta stamina.” Billy huffed a laugh.
“Any reason why you needed to do a quick 5K?” Steve bit his bottom lip.
“It’s dumb.”
“No, it’s not, Stevie. Never dumb when it means somethin’ to you.”
“I just, I uh, you were flirting with that waiter.” His heart was pounding in his chest. “Gonna blow our cover.”
“That’s not why you freaked.”
“Yeah, it is.”
“Nope.”
“Yes!” Steve was starting to get frustrated, Billy didn’t know him like that.
“Nuh-uh.” Billy did know him like that. “Just tell me what’s buggin’ you, Baby.”
“It’s that! It’s the Baby and the Sugar and the sleeping all pressed together, and the that’s how I woulda kissed you and just fucking all of it, Billy!”
“I don’t, I don’t know if I understand.”
“Billy, I’m in love with you! Have been for fucking ever, and it was fine, but doing this, pretending like this, it fucking hurts Billy.” He turned away to swipe at his eyes.
“Baby-”
“Don’t.”
“Just hear me out-”
“Billy, it’s okay. I know you don’t feel the same and-”
“Who said?”
“Who said what?”
“That I don’t feel the same.” Steve’s heart stuttered in his chest.
“I just, you never said anything.”
“Neither did you.” Billy was staring intensely at him in the fading light.
And Steve didn’t think. Didn’t want to think.
He swung one leg over Billy’s lap, settled his weight, and fucking kissed him.
It was nothing like either kiss. It was real, and sweet, and Steve can’t remember the last time he’s been kissed like this, like Billy was simultaneously stealing the breath right out of his lungs, and breathing new life into his body.
They both pulled away, breathing hard, staring at one another.
“Fuck,” Steve breathed.
“My thoughts exactly.”
#yikes writes#steve harrington#billy hargrove#steve harrington x billy hargrove#billy hargrove x steve harrington#harringrove#harringrove fic#harringrove ficlet#harringrove drabble
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I came for Baranski, I stayed for Baranski - a quick Christmas On The Square review someone* actually asked for
(* thank you, anon)
Disclaimer: I am in no way a professional of any sorts when it comes to film and I'm not a journalist either. The last movie review I've written was probably for a school assignment in eighth grade. I didn't do research for this and I've watched the movie exactly one time, so this is just for fun.
It was a Sunday, Sunday the 22nd of November, nearing the end of the train wreck of a year that is 2020. I woke up on an air mattress around seven am, my head aching, my throat itching with pyrosis and light nausea, it was still dark outside behind the closed blinds in front of the windows, when I slowly realised where I was, one of my best girlfriends sleeping next to me in her bed. I had crashed at her place after a warm, fuzzy evening of mulled wine, tacky Christmas movies I would never watch alone (Christmas Chronicles and Holiday Calendar, which I quite honestly didn't enjoy at all, but the company made it fun anyway), doing our nails, wearing the fun kind of face masks for a change and smoking too many cigarettes, as the soft pain in my head informed me right now. She woke up an hour later and the morning went by with coffee and reheated pizza for breakfast, when we decided to watch another movie and I realised that it was THE Sunday I'd been waiting for through Zoom interviews and Dolly Parton twitter memes and the infamous wig gate that will be briefly discussed in the following, and so we clicked on the small icon in the Netflix menu that said "Christmas On The Square".
And oh boy, was it a ride.
To start off, I should mention that I have a hard time watching most modern day American Christmas movies, as I noticed quite vividly again when I watched the two aforementioned Netflix productions last night. The character development is always foreseeable to say the least, the plot lines are plain clichés hunting each other like they're the kids in The Hunger Games, and the writing is generally so bad that you can join the actors in reciting the entire scripts on your first watch. I watch How the Grinch Stole Christmas once a year while I'm gift wrapping and pause every fifteen minutes to shamelessly stare at forties Christine Baranski (I think we should all turn away from the birth of Jesus and instead count our years based on Christine Baranski's date of birth) in flamboyant nightgowns and short Christmas themed dresses, looking so fabulous that every interpreter of Santa Baby ever could only dream of it, I watch Love Actually at least five times a year to lust over Hugh Grant, cry with Emma Thompson and miss Alan Rickman, I enjoy Bridget Jones, which I would definitely consider a Christmas movie, and that's it. That's my yearly Christmas time entertainment routine and I can barely tolerate anything beyond, because I'm still traumatised from the time when I was around five years old and on a holiday family visit where had to sit through National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation, the dumbest movie I have ever seen (my apologies if you like it but also, who hurt you?), with my cousins. I hated it. I hated every minute of it. And it scarred me for life.
But this was a Christine Baranski movie, I knew she was going to play the lead and so I was pretty much as excited about this as I could. And the fact that Dolly Parton wrote the whole thing didn't hurt either. As I said earlier to my friend I was watching it with, I have the pop cultural taste of a fifty year old gay man, a quality I am most proud of, and this simply ticked off all my boxes.
I expected something similar to a Mamma Mia experience that wouldn't cause me to crave packing my bags, give Covid the finger and run off to Greece. Light-hearted entertainment, easy to stomach, uplifting music and so little plot that the simplicity feels like a creative choice. That's what my pained, hungover brain knew it could cope with and that's not what I got.
The movie started and I was immediately in the zone. I saw Christine Baranski's name in the front credits (an experience that never fails to make me scream "Yass Queen" at the screen, regardless of where I am and who I'm with, as if I'm the sobering result that pops out of the package when you order Jonathan Van Ness on Wish), the setting was wonderfully corny (I grew up watching Gilmore Girls once a week, so give me warm fairy lights and a gazebo and I'm perfectly happy) and as my friend wondered whether Dolly Parton, in her exaggerated homeless attire that didn't make her look shabby at all, was green-screened into the setting because she stood out so much (which she was because the background dancers were dancing in slow motion, but to be fair, we were probably still a little too drunk to notice that from the start) and I told her I thought that it was just the natural glow someone who's Dolly Parton simply carries with them everywhere they go, I was happy. This was the movie I was prepared for. A movie in which the most problematic thing would be stereotypical characters and the wig they hid Christine's real, flawlessly handmade by God herself hair under.
And then, around five minutes in, Christine Baranski's childhood love interest was revealed as she pressed her perfect pointy nose against the window of his shop and sang about her unrequited love.
And suddenly, things started taking turns at a pace I was still way too sleep-deprived for.
Suddenly, in the middle of my general amazement at seeing Christine Baranski do literally anything and laughing loud at her impeccable comedic delivery, there were unresolved daddy issues, hanging prominently at the wall in her marvellously designed house (she literally says "Daddy" at one point and I couldn't help but think that only someone with her vocal skills could keep from making it sound cringe-worthily kinky). One moment, I was clutching my chest above my heart while she was bonding with little bartender Violet and munching on pretzels while downing some whiskey in that elegant way only Christine Baranski can bond with ten year olds who had it rough, eat pretzels and down whiskey, and the next she felt responsible for said girl's mother's death (which she kinda was too, but I'm not the boss of her). I was still busy making fun of how the very annoyingly, but when you're snacking on pizza with extra cheese at nine in the morning also highly funny, slow talking pastor's name was Christian, and suddenly there was a cancer scare.
It was a lot, a hasty sprint from major issue to major issue with a hint of comedic relief every now and then, and it didn't get any less until the very, rather poorly resolved, end.
The entire, constant up and down was followed by the movie's peak of suspense, the near death of precious Violet, something I couldn't even get too invested in because I was still so busy worrying about Christine's MRT results (I was truly fucking worried), not to mention that I hadn't even started to really process the sudden revelation of the love child and how it had affected her character's actions until this point. Was her constant tendency of pushing people away, as we've seen most clearly with her angel in training assistant who's name I cannot recall right now, the result of her broken trust in her father who practically ripped her son away from her after she had just given birth to him? Was it a result of her never getting the closure she needed with plaid flannel wearing Carl she was clearly still in love with? Maybe both? And what of the many issues was it that made her so incredibly shaken up when Violet blamed herself for her mother's death? Was it 'just' due to the fact that the closed pharmacy was on her, or was there more to it? Was it because she had grown up without a mother herself? Or did I miss a major piece of information because I was momentarily distracted, dumbfoundedly staring at Christine's very blue eyes? No time to ponder on that, little Silverinia, because here comes unconscious Violet in an ambulance, WEE WOO WEE WOO WEE WOO!
I'm not going to go in depth about what plot lines I thought were especially carelessly handled and why, real standouts were the sudden forgiveness towards her father who had still acted like a shitty asshole even though he might have had his reasons, because giving the baby up for adoption just wasn't his choice to make, and the fact that I kind of didn't buy how quickly Regina managed to forgive herself, especially for Violet's mother's passing, considering how deeply her tall, slim, dare I say angelic and entrancing figure was buried beneath the weight of all her issues. It felt rushed and incomplete, but that's as detailed as it gets because my major point is something else.
I think this movie made the great mistake of trying to be more than your average, flat, happy ending Christmas movie. I think no one involved thought it was possible to make it a big hit if the only real plot would've been great Dolly Parton music, fun ensemble dance choreographies, Christine Baranski's outstanding acting skills, fun settings and costumes and a redemption arch with as little plot as it could possibly take to make Christine likable to those who aren't already lost forever in the rabbit hole of being obsessed with her (poor fuckers, can't relate). They didn't notice that with the legends that were involved, they could've easily gone the Mamma Mia way. And I think that's why they tried to include heavier plot lines than most creators would've chosen, experiencing loss at an early age, struggling to find closure, dealing with sickness, teenage pregnancy, parents forcing their choices on their children when they affect their childrens' lives first, adoption, and the fear of losing your kid.
It was a lot and I don't want to say that it didn't work because my friend was crying, like, pretty hard and I questioned my entire existence all through the movie in not the worst way, and I did enjoy it a lot while watching. The "grief is love with nowhere to go" line was a real standout, for example, where the attempt of complexity DID work. It positively gave me fleabag season two, "I don't know what to do with it now, with all the love I have for her." - "I'll take it. It sounds lovely. You have to give it to me." feels, and that's about the biggest praise I can come up with. BUT (and this is written in capital letters because it's the big but) I'm also totally convinced that I wouldn't have enjoyed it if they hadn't cast Christine Baranski for the lead role. In my humble opinion, the hasty, not really at all resolved plot of this movie only worked because Christine Baranski is just a fantastic actress. She quirks a mocking eyebrow and you laugh. She parts her perfectly painted red lips and you immediately hang on them because you don't want to miss a single breath she, a literal goddess, graces us mere peasants of people with. She smiles and you're happy. She laughs and even while she's still laughing, you can't wait to hear her do it again. Her eyes fill with tears and you feel goosebumps on your arms, her voice slightly trembles, a breath hitches in her throat and you feel your heart shattering to pieces. As Chuck Lorre once said, this woman could read you the phone book and you would end up laughing tears because she just gets the job done. She knows what she's doing, she's an absolute pro in her game, and it doesn't matter, not even a little bit, what she's working with, because the work she eventually delivers with it is always at a minimum of 200%. I forced my friend to watch this movie with me because I adore this woman, and I felt for this movie because I felt for her. It wasn't the plot that sadly brutally overestimated itself, it wasn't the songs that I obviously enjoyed, nor the comedic elements that truly made me laugh a lot, it was all her. I came for Baranski, and I stayed for Baranski. This woman can do anything. She can even look graceful in a terrible wig job.
(side note / unpopular opinion: I actually didn't think the wig was all too bad. It wasn't good, actually far from good, but for me, nothing can match the awful wig game of Mamma Mia 2. I loathed that wig, I absolutely cannot stand it. So this didn't feel all that terrible. It definitely wasn't the most problematic part about the movie.)
I enjoyed watching this. It was a nice distraction from all the bullshit in the world. Watching it today was the first thing this year that actually brought me something close to excitement about the holiday season, even though everything will be very different and probably not quite as jolly this year. But it just gave me good vibes and as someone who did not watch this as a film reviewer, that's the biggest part of what leads me to enjoy a movie.
Will I watch this again? For sure. Will I enjoy it when I'm not hungover, having freshly done nails and munching delicious pizza for breakfast? Probably not as much, but it'll still have Christine Baranski in it. Would I recommend watching this? If you share my obsession with Queen B, one hundo. If you don't, probably not.
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Kill the Lights // Chapter 5
Steve Harrington x Original Female Character
Summary: After Violet- formally 003, a telekinetic, electrokenetic, and clairvoyant 19 year old- loses her first family, her first love, nothing is the same. She finds herself taken in by Hopper and El, struggling to find her footing and meaning to keep fighting. The Party, especially Steve Harrington, try to show her where her strengths have been hiding all along, and that no one has to fight their battles alone. Sometimes you don’t need to be rescued, but someone’s love and support while you rescue yourself sure doesn’t hurt.
Word count: 6,108 words- I can’t be bothered to break somewhere in the middle of this and turn it into two chapters. :-)
Content warnings: PTSD, mentions of self harm, mentions of suicide, underage drinking/partying, grieving, loooooots of angst and depression (I’m so sorry lmao)
Author’s note: hi :-) I was gonna upload this last night, but kinda got caught up in a true crime documentary on Netflix. Whoops. Anyway! This is long. I don’t feel like trying to find a break to split it into two chapters again- mainly because it doesn’t feel right splitting it apart anywhere. It’s messy, like Violet as she’s going through every shitty thing possible, but I swear happier moments are on the way for her!! Don’t be afraid to leave feedback if you read this :’) and thank you as always again to anyone who has been reading this. okay!! Enjoy y’all!!
———
Chapter 5: Headcase
The beginning of June 1985 held the end of school, the start of summer, and a whole whirlwind of emotions.
Violet was doing better, for the most part, but still had her bad days. Those days, she kept to herself, she didn’t tell El or Steve or any of the few she trusted. She hid in her pain, usually in reckless behaviors like chain smoking or self injuring it all away. On the worst nights, now harder to come by but still existent, she did it all, and still wanted more.
Tonight was one of those nights that held all and beyond. She felt numb, so she hurt herself, cutting where no one could see at first glance. She let the wounds linger longer than usual before healing them, embracing the sting they left.
It still wasn’t enough, so she finished a pack in half a day. Her throat felt like broken glass was stuck inside, but it didn’t phase her.
It wasn’t until Steve called to remind her there was a party the newly graduated senior class was having at someone’s house. He asked her earlier that week if she wanted to go, to get out for a little and be around people their age for once. She said she’d think about it, anxious to be around so many people she didn’t know. Days had passed and she forgot about it as her mind floated elsewhere. So when Steve asked what she decided on, she immediately said yes.
Parties meant alcohol, and alcohol meant another way to numb the growing guilt she had deep down. It came in waves. She tried so hard to appreciate her life, but the guilt of being alive while Amy was gone because she knew too much, she helped Violet have a better life, that gave her so much guilt that only continued to eat away at her conscious.
Steve was surprised and a little suspicious when she agreed, but told her she’d pick her up around 7 anyway.
Violet used the little bit of energy she had into putting together her look for the night. Combat boots, black leather mini skirt, Bowie shirt, and her favorite denim jacket. Makeup darker than usual; a dark lip and smokey eye pulling the whole look together. She tucked a bit of her messy black bob behind her one ear as she glanced in the mirror.
The most effort I’ve put into my appearance in months, and it’s just to drink my problems away. What a wreck. She thought to herself.
Her scars peeked out of the skirt just a bit, but she figured everyone would be too drunk to notice anyway. Violet tugged it down a bit as a precaution, exiting out the bedroom door.
“Whoa.... Bitchin.” El said, admiring her sister’s outfit.
“Uh... maybe you shouldn’t go out in that, Vi.” Hopper said, hesitant to parent her.
“Why not? It’s hot out, it’s either the skirt, or shorts.”
“Because boys can be stupid and do stupid shit, and I just don’t want you getting hurt.”
“And that would be their fault for having no self control, not me and my outfit choices.” Violet huffed, crossing her arms. “Besides, I’ll be with Steve the whole time, he won’t let anything bad happen to me.”
Hopper groaned in annoyance. “Y’know, I’m happy for you that you’ve become friends with someone your age, but don’t get too close to that Harrington kid.”
“What? Why not? We’re not gonna do anything funny. We’re just friends, Hop.” Violet rolled her eyes. “He’s a good guy, he’s my friend.”
“Alright, alright. Just want you girls to be careful always, that’s all. I know he’s a good kid, I just want you to be safe with whoever you hang out with.” He sighed. Violet’s face softened when she realised he really did mean well. Just wasn’t the best choice of words.
Violet went to speak again, but there was a knock at the door that grabbed her attention. She rushed over to it before Hopper could answer it, and opened the door to see Steve on the other side. Her breath hitched in her throat at the sight of him. He always looked nice, but there was something about him tonight that made him look even nicer.
“Pretty.” Violet whispered, a phrase she picked up from El. It caused a blush to rise in his face.
“Y-you too, Vi.” He stuttered out. Hopper stood back, eyes rolling at the cheesiness.
“Be safe, no drugs, no illegal shit, got it?” Hopper spoke up, and Violet casually nodded, bounding down the stairs towards Steve’s car. Steve went to follow her, but Hopper stopped him, holding him by the shoulder. Steve turned to Hopper, and gulped out of fear he did something wrong to upset Violet’s fatherly figure.
“Hey, just...” Hopper’s voice dropped down to a whisper, “just keep an eye on her, alright? She’s been off today. Make sure she doesn’t do anything stupid, Harrington. I’m only okay with her going out because she’s kept to herself today.”
“Uh- yeah, yeah of course, Chief, you got it.” Steve answered. Hopper let go of his shoulder and Steve took that as the go-ahead to walk back to his car.
As Steve pulled out of the woods, Violet kept glancing at him suspiciously.
“What did Hopper want?” She finally asked, slight edge to her tone. She sensed what happened, but respected the rule between her and Steve, and gave his mind privacy.
“Uh, nothin’. Just being a dad, warning us to not be stupid kids.” He nervously laughed, and it wasn’t a total lie. He just didn’t mention it was directed at Violet specifically.
Violet nodded, but she knew he was hiding something. Even without reading him directly, the nervous energy radiating off him was so loud and bold, she couldn’t miss it if she tried, but let the feeling go. She had higher priorities, selfish priorities, but she needed an escape from her head for just a little while.
The house was overflowing with kids from Hawkins High, roaming around the front lawn, hanging off the porch, hollering out windows, and Violet could only imagine how much more chaotic it was inside.
Chaotic was an understatement. The floor, if seen at all, was a total wreck, littered with red solo cups and empty bottles already. Little space was found between bodies dancing in the next room over. The stairway seemed to be a make out spot for the shameless. She didn’t know what to expect, never attending a high school party before this, but this was overwhelming to whatever she assumed.
“You okay?” Steve grabbed her arm gently and asked. Violet nodded.
“Just a lot going on... a lot of people.”
“It’s easier when you’ve had a few drinks. C’mon, let’s grab something.” He said, leading her down the hall to the kitchen. More cups and bottles and punch bowls mixed with god knows what were crowding the island countertop.
Hesitant, Violet hung back, not sure what to grab first. Steve noticed, and grabbed them both cups filled with the mysterious blue punch. At least it was a pretty color.
Steve handed Violet her cup, then held his out to cheers with hers, “Here’s to.... ?”
“Hm...” Violet pondered before it hit her. “Amy always said ‘all good things come to an end, to make room for new beginnings.’”
“To new beginnings, then!” He said, bumping his cup against hers. She smiled, feeling a little more at ease, before placing her cup to her mouth and chugging more than she should.
“To new beginnings.” She repeated, already feeling the warmth of the alcohol.
No one ever told her how rocky the new beginnings always seemed to be, though.
———
“Maybe she went outside for fresh air?” Nancy said, trailing behind a worried Steve. He frantically searched high and low for Violet, but she was nowhere to be found.
“I checked outside already.” Steve snapped, feeling upset that he couldn’t find Violet.
“What about the bathroom?” Jonathan suggested. Steve shook his head wildly, slowly sobering up as panic set in as he realized the severity of the situation.
“No, no! Guys! You’re not helping!”
“Steve, we’re trying to!” Nancy snapped back.
Steve sighed, leaning against the hallway wall, and closed his eyes.
“I’m sorry, guys. You’re really trying to help, you’re right. I just feel so much pressure because I promised Hopper she wouldn’t do anything stupid tonight. She hasn’t been doing well today, and he was worried, and I fucking lost her.” He word vomited in a panic. “I don’t know where else to look. I checked everywhere except...”
“Except..?” Jonathan repeated. Steve’s head snapped up.
“I didn’t check any of the rooms. Like the bedrooms upstairs. I didn’t think she’d go up with anyone.”
“Well, it’s worth checking, right?” Nancy asked. Steve nodded, headed for the stairs.
“I’ll go up and check and meet you guys back down here, alright?”
“Sure thing, we’ll keep our eyes peeled down this way.” Jonathan reassured him. Steve climbed the stairs, two at a time, while weaving in and out of drunk couples hanging about on the stairs.
He walked around upstairs, seeing most rooms were surprisingly empty with open doors. It wasn’t until he reached one with a closed door, that he knocked. Nothing. He couldn’t hear well over the loud music downstairs, though, and figured it couldn’t hurt checking anyway.
Steve opened the door to find this bedroom empty too. His eyes darted around the dark room, just to make sure he didn’t miss any sign of Violet, before a muffled noise echoed from the walk-in closet in the room, door open ajar. Not enough to see who was inside, though.
He tried to quiet his breathing to get a better listen, and only heard heavy breathing in return. He froze, staring at the door, and heard soft moans this time. His face heated up as soon as he recognized who the noises belonged to, no mistaking who’s voice it was.
Steve didn’t know what to do. Did he interrupt whatever the hell Violet was doing with whoever the hell else was in there with her? Or did he let it go, wait outside the door before she got away again and just ignore it?
His thoughts were racing, but more noises drowned them out, this time from another girl. A flash of jealousy overcame him, just for a second, though. Why did he feel that? They’re just friends, why does he care who she hooks up with?
Suddenly, all noises stopped, and the door slid open just enough that he made eye contact with Violet, pushed against the wall by the other stranger. The other girl seemed unaware of what was going on, and continued kissing Violet’s neck, causing Violet’s eyes to roll back and eyelids flutter shut in bliss.
Steve felt frozen, he knew he shouldn’t be here, but he couldn’t just leave Violet unattended. He promised Hopper he’d look out for her, though he definitely didn’t think it’d end up like this.
Violet’s eyes opened once more, and she finally spoke up, speech slurred, “Take a number and get in line, Harrington.”
Steve choked on air and tried clearing his throat, backing away from the closet door.
Violet gently pushed away from the girl, “Honey, this was fun, but I gotta go.” The mysterious stranger yelped in embarrassment, and buried her head into one of the coats hanging nearby, probably trying to hide from Steve standing outside. Maybe the girl wasn’t out yet. Even if she was, no one flaunted it around Hawkins. It wasn’t welcomed by most of the close minded town.
Violet pushed her way out of the closet, glaring at Steve, before she stormed out the room and down the stairs. It took him a second before realizing to follow after her, and he caught sight of her just leaving out the front door before he began to run after her.
Violet stomped down the sidewalk and began walking away from the house.
“Vi! Where are you going?!”
“Home! Now that my night was ruined!” She yelled back to him, refusing to actually turn and face him.
Steve sped up, finally catching up to Violet and running in front of her, stopping her dead in her tracks. He came dangerously close to her, like that day the tension built on the porch. Violet gulped, but tried her hardest to stand her ground with any tough exterior she had left.
“What the fuck are you doing, Vi?” Steve breathed out, trying to catch his breath. Violet crossed her arms, huffing and looking down at the sidewalk. “You’re terrified of strangers, understandably so. Then I lose you, and find you finally but you’re hooking up with some random girl? What is going on?”
Violet’s eyes rimmed with tears, ready to break the dam. She refused to look up at Steve.
“What’s it your business, Harrington? I just wanted to enjoy myself tonight. Am I not allowed to do that?” Her voice shook, but with anger or sadness she wasn’t sure.
“No, Vi, you’re your own person, I’m just looking out for you.” Steve said with concern.
Hopper told me to keep my eye out for you and keep you safe, and I couldn’t even do that right. Steve thought to himself. It wasn’t until Violet’s eyes widened and finally connected to his, that he realized she read his thoughts.
“You said you’d never do that without asking.” He whispered.
“I’m drunk and upset and can’t think clearly, so sorry you have the loudest thoughts I’ve ever heard!” She yelled, glad no one was around where they stood. The argument out of context had to sound insane.
“Fine, fine. Hopper asked me to look out for you, okay? I’m sorry, what should I have said to him? ‘Sorry, I don’t want to, Vi’s a big girl and can handle anything herself.’? Because yeah, you can, but tell me how the hell he’d handle me telling him what to do about his kid.”
“No! Just... what the fuck, Steve! I was being safe.” She yelled back, throwing her arms up in the air. “And I’m not his fucking kid. I’m just some fucked up experiment he was so unlucky to stumble upon and tried helping. That’s not the same.”
“You didn’t know that girl until tonight.” He spat back, ignoring her last statement about Hopper. That was an argument for another day.
“What does it fucking matter? We were fine until you showed up and decided to peep!”
“I wasn’t- that’s not what I was doing and you fucking know that! I’m just trying to look out for you, Vi, please.” Steve’s voice cracked as he held back his own set of tears. Violet couldn’t hold it anymore either, and the tears began to overflow.
“I don’t know why you’re worried or jealous.” She cried softly, exhausted, and still drunk. It didn’t tone down her usual bluntness. “It was just a meaningless fuck, okay? And it didn’t even get far! God. You and I just met like... a month ago. Why are you so concerned?”
“Please, Vi, I don’t wanna talk about that... I don’t know... okay? I’m mostly just worried, because I care. I’m trying to be here for you. I’m sorry I interrupted whatever was going on in there. I swear I didn’t mean it. I flew into a panic when I couldn’t find you, I was scared something happened to you.” He sniffled, trying his hardest not to cry more, seeing how much she was crying.
“You don’t have to be my knight in shining armor, y’know. I don’t need to be saved.” She mumbled.
“I promise this isn’t like that. You can save yourself, you have before. Doesn’t mean I don’t want to stand by your side and support you. I care because that’s what friends do. I just want you to be okay because you deserve a fair shot at life.” He shook his head. Violet sensed he was being honest. She nodded, feeling silly for even saying that. For once, she was proven wrong. For once, a guy wasn’t trying to earn a medal for doing the right thing. Steve just really, genuinely cared.
“Can I...” He hesitated, but Violet knew what he was asking.
“Please.” She spoke, too quickly.
Steve held his arms open tiredly, and immediately she collapsed into them, wrapping her arms around his waist as she cried harder into his shirt.
“I’m sorry.”
“You don’t have anything to be sorry for, Vi.”
“I’m such a mess today. I missed her so much. I’m lonely and scared and either feel anger or numbness or sadness. I was trying to fill whatever the fuck this void is. I knew it wouldn’t help, but I just wanted to forget about this whole thing for one night.”
“I know, Vi. I’m sorry you feel this pain. I’d do anything to help ease it from your heart if I could.”
Violet hugged him tighter, realizing this was the first time they really had physical contact. Their fingers have brushed against one another’s before, and they held hands that one time in his car, but this felt different. Violet couldn’t place her finger on what it felt like, though.
“Let me take you back home, you should probably sleep.” He said as his head rested on top of hers. Violet pulled away, shaking her head.
“Don’t, I don’t want Hopper and El to see me like this, please.” She pleaded, feeling so small, almost childlike.
“Okay, okay, that’s okay. We don’t have to.” He reassured her. “We can go back to my house, if that’s better?”
“What about your parents? Won’t they be upset you’re bringing some girl dressed like this and crying home with you?” She bitterly laughed.
“They’re not home, they never fucking are.” He said, his voice also laced with bitterness. “It’s good for times like this, though. No one will bother you.”
Violet nodded, just wanting somewhere to sleep for the night without intrusive and overbearing questions about her night.
“Yeah. Please. Let’s just go.” She said, sniffling. Her body felt so heavy out of exhaustion from drinking and crying. Steve began leading her back to the car, holding her up when she stumbled a few times, still feeling the effects of the alcohol.
“How much did you drink?” She asked him as he opened the passenger door for her. She slowly climbed in, trying to avoid possible injury.
“Only that one drink. Panicking about losing you earlier sobered me up pretty quick before I had a chance to drink anymore.” He said, helping her buckle in when her hands kept fumbling with the belt and losing grip of it. “You?”
“You’re gonna laugh at me.” She giggled to herself. “I only had two cups of that punch.”
“Only two? And you’re this shitfaced?” Steve asked, laughing at how much of a lightweight his new friend was. She laughed more with him.
“I know, isn’t that so pathetic?” She mocked herself. Steve double checked that she was safely inside the car before firmly shutting the door. He walked to the driver side, got in, and started up the car.
“It just means you save more on alcohol. You’re the real winner here.” He joked.
“Sure don’t feel like a fuckin’ winner.” Violet mumbled as Steve began to drive off.
Her head lulled to the side, falling onto his arm that rested on the middle console.
“Don’t fall asleep yet, we’re a few minutes away. As soon as we get inside, you can take my bed, okay?” Steve said, gently shrugging her off his arm. Violet pouted at the loss of contact.
“Where are you gonna sleep?”
“I can take the floor, or the couch downstairs if you want space.”
“No!”
“No?”
“Ugh.” Violet sighed, feeling pathetic and needy. “Stay in the room, I don’t wanna be alone.”
“You sure?”
“Yes.”
He pulled into his driveway moments later, and helped Violet out of the car and to the door. She leaned on him, ready to fall asleep standing up, as he fumbled with his keys to unlock the door.
“C’mon, let’s find you some pajamas to wear tonight.” He said softly to her as he lead her up the stairs and into his room. She flopped onto the bed as soon as he let go, and he sighed.
“Vi, you gotta get changed, that outfit can’t be comfy to sleep in.”
“I don’t wanna move”, she mumbled, her face down in a pillow.
“C’mere,” he spoke softly, like talking to a child. She hated how small she felt when things got rough. There were only a few times she felt helpless like this, and it was only more recently than ever, after losing Amy.
She couldn’t lie about how his care was comforting to her, though. Steve pulled her up gently, handing her an oversized shirt and sweats to change into, before grabbing clothes of his own.
“I’m gonna change quick in the bathroom, I’ll be right back, okay?”
Violet nodded sleepily, before slowly figuring out what layer of clothing to remove first. Steve exited quickly, not wanting to invade her privacy, and headed to change in the bathroom. A few minutes passed, and he knocked on the bedroom door.
“I’m good!” She tiredly exclaimed. Steve opened the door to find Violet wandering his room, looking at photos on the walls, wearing just the giant shirt he gave her. The sweatpants laid untouched on the bed still.
“Uh, Vi?” She turned to him while he looked away. “Maybe you should put your pants on too?”
She shook her head, “This covers me just fine! And it’s still hot out. As long as you’re not uncomfortable by that?”
“Um... yeah th-that’s fine.” He stuttered, looking anywhere but her. To be fair, it did cover a lot. Probably more than her skirt did earlier tonight. The thought of Violet wearing his clothes along with her being in his room definitely heightened those stupid teenage feelings, though.
“Can I show you a secret?” She asked as he began to put together a makeshift bed on the floor for himself. He looked up at her. “Promise me you won’t be mad.”
“I’m not gonna lie, that kinda scares me. Are you alright?” He asked, getting up from the floor and walking over to her. She shrugged slowly lifting the end of the shirt, and immediately Steve tensed up.
“No, silly, get your head outta the gutter.” She mumbled, sensing the tension and his thoughts.
“I- I’m not, I just, what are you even trying to do here?”
She only lifted the shirt a tiny bit more, revealing the top of her one thigh. Scattered along it like confetti, lay many scars. Steve felt his heart drop.
“Vi, what are these?”
“Scars.”
“No, I know that, but from what?”
“Me.” She whispered. “Nobody knows I do it. I’m surprised you guys didn’t find them on me the night at the quarry.”
“Are they... they older?” He asked, but he was pretty sure he knew the answer.
“You’re a smart boy, Steve, what do you think?”
“But... why?”
“It’s the only thing I have control over. Sometimes it helps me feel something when I feel nothing at all. I don’t want to be this person anymore.” She whispered and dropped the shirt as she looked down. Steve immediately wrapped his arms around her, hugging her. She didn’t mind that it happened so quickly this time.
“I told you, I’m a fucking mess.” She whispered, crying onto his chest. “I have this power to heal and can’t even use it positively. I don’t know how to stop. It’s always this or some other destructive behavior. I don’t know how to exist without keeping myself in line with pain. That’s so fucked up. What the fuck is my problem?”
Steve wasn’t sure how to respond to Violet. He never saw this happen to any of his friends firsthand, not like this, at least.
“I can’t be a burden to you, I can’t be a burden to El and Hop... I’ve been bottling it up, and that’s not healthy either... but I can’t just dump this on you all; you may be close to me but you’re not professionals. That’s not fair to you. And if I go to a professional I guarantee they’d take me away forever. Who the fuck is gonna believe me? They’d instantly think I’m insane if I told them even a sliver of information about the lab.” She continued to sob. Steve just held her tighter, not too tightly, not where she was uncomfortable, but enough to make sure the message got across that she wasn’t alone.
“C’mere, Vi. You should at least sit down.” He lead her back over to his bed, feeling her shake as she cried. She sat, dragged him down next to her, still clutched onto him. He gently played with her hair, trying his best to soothe her in any way he could. It killed him inside to not know what to say or do to help her right now. Since he’s changed, he’s become a fixer and a shoulder to cry on for his friends. He sure as hell had a rough time helping himself, but he felt more useful if he could at least help others.
Right now, Steve wasn’t sure if he was useful to Violet at all, but he had to try.
“You’re not a burden, not in the slightest. And who isn’t a mess? Not sure you can trust people who don’t have baggage, right? It’s just proof you can handle what life throws at you next.” He tried reassuring her, still holding her. Her sobs began to slow and quiet down, becoming more gentle and sporadic. Steve was relieved to hear she was starting to calm down.
“Can we sleep?” She spoke between tiny sobs. “I’m so tired and I’m still fucking drunk. How do you guys drink like it’s nothing?”
Steve pulled away just a little, smiling down at her. “Listen, we’re all lightweights in the beginning.”
Violet grunted as she flopped back onto the bed, laying for a second before she flipped and crawled over to the other side. She dove under the covers, and felt the weight of the bed lighten on the other edge. She turned to face where Steve sat just a moment before, then looked up to where he stood.
“Try to get some rest, okay? I’ll be right over here if you need me for anything.” Steve said, and turned to his pile of blankets and pillows on the floor. Violet quickly sat back up, reaching for his wrist and grabbed it.
“Can you stay?”
“Are you sure? I’m not too far away if I’m on the floor.”
“Please.” Violet’s voice came out small again. Steve nodded and crawled under the covers next to her. Violet moved her hand to grab his, her eyes shut quickly.
Thank you, Steve.”
Her breath instantly fell into a soft and steady rhythm, already asleep. Steve’s thumb gently traced over the 003 tattoo and the scar that ran through it. He sighed, only being able to just imagine the pain she felt every day for her past. What mattered was that she was here now, safe and sound. He’d do anything to make sure it stayed that way.
Steve gently squeezed her hand before he fell asleep too.
So maybe, just maybe, Violet really didn’t need a knight in shining armor. She saved herself countless times, and could again and again and again. She was a strong, brave girl, who could do practically anything on her own.
Maybe, though, she was just drained. She just wanted to be at ease again. Wanted to live without the guilt and pain that followed her so heavily like a shadow each day.
She didn’t want to be helped for someone else’s benefit, and for the first time in a long time, Steve helping her through this darkness felt genuine. Her new family, too. They had genuine intentions. Good, kindhearted intentions.
She didn’t have to keep fighting this alone. Maybe she was allowed to heal emotionally, too.
———
Sunlight pried Violet’s eyes open the next morning. She groaned in annoyance while she dragged the covers over her face. She clamped her eyes shut and flipped over in bed before she dozed back off. A warm, comforting feeling wound its way around her torso, and sleepily she cozied up closer in it.
Wait, what is that? She thought, and jolted upright.
“What’s goin’ on? Where’s the fire?” Steve mumbled, still half asleep.
“Jesus Christ.” Violet exhaled, slightly relieved to see her friend’s face but still confused as to why she was even sleeping next to him in the first place.
Steve sat up, rubbed his eyes, then looked over at Violet. “You don’t remember what happened, do you?”
Violet shook her head and bit her lip, frustrated that everything from last night felt so hazy. Steve’s gaze flickered down to her lips and quickly looked away to ignore how cute she looked.
“You got drunk off only two cups of that punch, wandered off, I found you while you hooked up with some girl, we fought, you didn’t want to go home in the state you were in, so I brought you back here instead.” He rambled off, still trying to shake the sleepiness.
“Shit.” Violet said, squeezing her eyes shut. Now it made sense. That was enough to trigger the entire night’s memories to flood back her way. “You saw so much. I said so much-“
“Vi, it’s okay. It was okay last night, it’s still okay now.” Steve said, reaching over to hold her hand. He hesitated before she opened her palm; a sign that she was okay with being touched. Though the last few times they had physical contact, she was bold and immediate in her actions.
All she could do was nod. Her head still hurt from the night before, though now she was certain it was from all of the crying. She remembered that he saw her scars, she told him everything. She opened up about how rotten she felt that whole day, how she tried to fill the void that missing Amy brought with drinking and a one night stand. She read his thoughts without asking, she yelled at him, she said and did so goddamn much.
Yet here he was. Here he still was. Steve didn’t run off like she expected him to, like she’d expect anyone to after getting to know her past the surface.
Violet slid back down in the covers, partly trying to hide her embarrassment, but also she was still so drained. She just wanted to sleep more.
“Your parents are still gone right?”
“Yeah, they’re gone for pretty much the whole month.” He said, fidgeting with a loose string coming off the comforter. “Why?”
Violet sighed. “Is it okay if I stay a little longer? I’m so fucking tired, my head hurts, and I can just tell it’s... it’s gonna be one of those harder days.” It felt surreal to voice these feelings outside of her body. Talking about it in the moment was brand new for her, but it was a step in the right direction to healing.
“Yeah, Vi, of course.” He nodded and got up to shut the curtains. “Stay as long as you want, okay? Do you want space or...”
“I don’t know honestly... I... no...? I don’t think I do.” Violet wasn’t used to someone asking that either.
“I’m just gonna go downstairs and grab some water and painkillers for your headache, okay?” He started to walk to the door, then turned back to her before opening it. “Hey Violet?”
“Hm?”
A beat passed before he took a deep breath in, “I’m really glad you’re okay.” He slipped out the door before she could even respond.
Violet’s face grew a tiny smile as she slid back under the covers. Despite all the shitty feelings she felt in the last 24 hours, she sure was glad she was okay overall too.
Her mind wandered back to the previous night’s events, but couldn’t seem to remember who the girl she hooked up with was, and she felt a bit bad for just leaving her so suddenly last night. Not like it was meant to be serious; random hookups were just a thing average teens at parties did.
That wasn’t what she did though, no judgement to anyone who did enjoy consensual one night stands, of course. But Steve was right in their argument last night, she was terrified of strangers. Why the hell did she even try to mute her pain of missing Amy with someone else?
Unless-
“Oh no.” She groaned out loud, slamming a pillow over her face. She would do stupid stuff to forget the pain of losing her first love to wrongful death, sure. But even a hookup seemed far. She knew there was something else, and it hit her right there. It wasn’t just one thing she was trying to shove out of her mind, for once.
Violet’s mind instantly replayed the part of the fight where she read Steve’s thoughts, where she discovered he was checking up on her because Hopper asked him to, but also that he felt jealous and sad when he found her with someone else.
“Please, Vi, I don’t wanna talk about that... I don’t know... okay?”
Steve did know what his feelings were for, and Violet knew that he knew, and Violet knew why else she tried to just forget anything going on in her mind with a stranger-
She was starting to have feelings for Steve.
“I’m such a fucking idiot,” she muffled into the pillow still on her face.
“I mean, yeah, you are, if you’re gonna keep that pillow on your face you’ll suffocate.” Steve’s voice startled Violet, and she threw the pillow off her face, almost hitting Steve with it. “I’d take that as the start of a pillow fight, but I know damn well you are not feeling well enough for that.”
“Can’t die by my own hand, remember?” Violet chuckled with an eye roll as she looked up at him. He shook his head smiling, and handed her a glass of water and two Tylenol. “Thanks.”
“No problem. So... care to tell me why you think you’re a fucking idiot? Your words, not mine.” He said as he sat back down next to her. “Some of us don’t have the badass ability to read minds, y’know.”
“You wouldn’t want it. It just gets me in trouble.” She groaned and rolled her eyes again before taking the pills and washing them down with water. “And I don’t wanna talk about it. It’s stupid.”
“It’s not stupid if it’s got you worked up like this.”
Goddammit, why is he always trying to say stuff like this to her. Always trying to justify her feelings, like she’s entitled to her emotions or some shit. It made her heart soft, and that made her panic.
“It’s fine, really. I think I’m just overthinking everything like I usually do on bad days like this. I’m just gonna try to go back to sleep, okay?” She said, trying to avoid further questions. Steve shot her a look, still suspicious and not buying what she said for a second, but he let it go.
“Yeah, no worries.”
“Are you tired?”
“Not really, but I can stay if you want.” He said softly to her.
Violet nodded and laid back down. Steve laid next to her. They faced each other, at first just a few inches apart. It was silent enough to hear their breaths and rapid heartbeats.
“Do you mind if I try something?” She asked, voice barely past a whisper.
“What is it?”
Violet mirrored his earlier sleep position that startled her in the first place. Her arms wrapped around his torso as she pulled herself closer to him. Steve’s breath stopped short, definitely not expecting her to do that.
“Is this okay?” She asked.
He nodded quickly, a little too quickly for his liking. His arms embraced her body in return, pulling her even closer, as if it was even possible. They were tangled up in one another, and it soothed Violet.
“Sleep well, Vi.” He whispered. Her soft snores followed shortly after, and he felt himself fall back asleep with her
#stranger things fanfiction#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington x ofc#steve harrington x oc#stranger things x reader#stranger things x oc#stranger things fic#steve harrington x you#steve harrington x reader#kill the lights
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Black Leather - Chapter 8
I’d had to wait an additional twenty minutes at Steve’s house, because despite his near fanatical dedication to Farah Faucett; his hair had continued to fall flat.
Lucky for him, Nancy was there, otherwise I would’ve broken down the damn bathroom door and shaved the birds nest off myself.
Eventually; he’d managed to get his hair to a reasonable level of poofiness, and we’d gotten to Tina’s just an hour after the start time on the flyer; fashionably late without it being too busy to make an entrance.
Sitting in the backseat of Steve’s thankfully spacious BMW gave me front row seats to the newfound awkwardness between Hawkins most beloved royal couple.
Despite Steve’s insistence that everything was fine between the pair and that Nancy was just still upset about Barb; I couldn’t help but feel there was a bigger void between them than that. One that was gradually getting bigger by the day, judging by the near complete lack of conversation for the entire car ride over.
He wouldn’t even let me talk to her for him; insisting he could handle it himself, but Steve really didn’t know girls like I did.
There was something big on Nancy’s mind; something that parties and corny jokes alone wasn’t gonna fix.
“That is a lot of carnage...” Steve remarked, drawing my eyes from the world’s slowest relationship train wreck, to the much more literal train wreck outside my window.
The word “carnage” was putting it lightly.
The party had already spilled out onto the street; bodies in varying stages on unconsciousness littering the front lawn like the vast amount of beer cans and bottles surrounding them. Those that were conscious were reveling in a variety of vices, from cigarettes to cheap booze to near all out sex on the AstroTurf. High school partying at its finest.
“Half the school must be here!” Remarked Nancy; eyes wide at the near renaissance painting of absolute debauchery outside.
“You got that right...” Agreed Steve as he slowed his car to park; and if Hawkins High’s keg king said that it was a rager, then she must be right.
Steve eventually found a space just outside Tina’s house; surprising considering the sheer amount of people present, however I guess most people considered a night in Hawkins PD’s cells too steep a price to pay for one night of drinking and dancing.
We got out of the car, and already the music hit our ears at full blast; someone’s parents were gonna get a lot of noise complaints in the morning.
“We Don’t Have To Take Our Clothes Off” was the song of choice, but clearly the song’s message fell on deaf ears, as most of the boys were down to shorts and skins, and the girls in even less.
Steve led the way through the highway to hell, ringing the doorbell to Tina’s, which chimed out in an almost comedic rendition of “Messiah” considering the situation.
Moments later, the door swung open to a smiling Tina, dressed in a skimpy leotard and fishnets, in what must’ve been a cat costume considering the black velvet ears in her perm.
“Steve! Nancy! Love the costumes!” She exclaimed with such enthusiasm; it must’ve been partially forced.
“Risky Business; right?” She asked, taking note on the pair’s cute matching black and white combo.
“And Lola! You’re..?” Her ever expanding smile faltered as she struggled to work out what exactly a tartan miniskirt and a Bon Jovi tank top had to do with Halloween.
“A vampire.” I replied with a fake smile, showing off the plastic fangs glued to my canines. She wasn’t the only one who could feign enthusiasm.
“Well; you all look so great...” She spieled; that plastic smile returning even quicker than it fell.
“Why don’t you come on in and get a drink...” She beckoned us in as she led us further into her temporary den of teenage rebellion.
Costume party could be used very loosely to describe what Tina’s Halloween party was.
People wore costumes alright; ones that made them look sexier, less restrained, more depraved. Anything from a pair of sunglasses, to an oversized bedsheet counted here; and trust me, someone had tried them all. My outfit honestly looked like a nun’s in comparison to some of the other girls.
Since when did lingerie count as a Halloween costume?
“Looks like a good party.” Steve remarked, though I wondered if it was only for our host’s sake.
“Yeah. If you like cheap liquor and herpes...” I muttered, earning myself a chuckle from him; so we were on the same page.
I glanced around the room, unable to believe people had managed to get this fucked up in an hour. There had to be some pregaming, or a high amount of class C drugs involved; definitely drugs, judging by the smoke in the air.
I was definitely gonna have to do the laundry before dad got home.
My eyes glanced over to the living room where some jock was spread out on the coffee table, whilst a line of cheerleaders did body shots off his chest.
I was definitely gonna need a drink to get through tonight.
“I’m gonna go grab a drink...” I told Steve, not waiting for a response as I slipped through the crowd towards the kitchen and what would hopefully be semi drinkable booze.
—————————————————
The liquor was shitty; the punch wasn’t much better, but still better to suffer the taste and be drunk, than suffer the company sober.
God knew there was nothing worse than being the only sober one in a crowd of drunks.
Steve had long abandoned me for his princess, in yet another attempt to drown an underlying uneasiness with cheap alcohol and fake happiness. Jonathan was a no show, but there was no surprises there, and I was kinda wishing I’d done the same, even if it’d cost me my left ear to Steve’s nagging.
The only consolation was that Billy Hargrove hadn’t spoken to me once. It was quite possible he hadn’t even noticed me; he was so sucked into the superficial cloud of party popularity that seemed to circle him like a storm.
Every girl in their fake leather biker boots and discount rack leather jackets was hanging off him, in a poor attempt to act as my replacement; as if being the resident basket case was as simple as smudging on a bit of eyeliner and smoking more Camels than usual.
I don’t think Billy was convinced; his mind so preoccupied with stealing Steve’s crown that he didn’t have time to think about getting laid.
No doubt when he came back down to earth; I’d be the first person he’d have in mind to help with that little problem.
But for now; my night looked relatively sleaze free. No one had tried to hit on me since Billy had taken an interest; probably valued their molars too much for that.
It’s strange to think that despite my total disdain for Billy and the clear message that I’d rather eat my own fingernails than date him; people still acted like he had some sort of “reservation” over me, as if I was unofficially “his girl”.
Right now, the man in question was challenging the royal reign of keg king; a position previously held by Steve, before Nancy had him saddled and bridled.
Even I had to admit; Billy Hargrove made quite the Lancelot to Steve’s Arthur. Billy had Steve in term of upper body strength; his keg stand lasting twice as long as Steve’s had, without any of the signature unsteadiness.
The keg court already loved him, counting down with unrivalled enthusiasm and chanting Billy’s name as if he’d just won a championship belt.
He’d even managed to steal Steve’s right hand man; Tommy H naturally taking his place behind the new alpha male, reminding me of a snappy hyena at his heels.
Billy’s keg stand finished on a impressive count of forty two; him touching ground soon after and spraying the crowd with lukewarm beer.
“That’s how you do it; Hawkins! That’s how you do it!” He yelled triumphantly, in that moment seeming more of a celebrity than the cocky asshole with a Camaro.
Even I had to admit that Billy seemed different tonight.
Maybe it was the punch talking, or the overall excitement of the crowd as they practically worshipped him like a god, but he just seemed larger than life.
He’d styled his hair different; his curls actually holding shape, rather than just falling into a dirty blonde mess. He also followed the crowd in terms of forgoing a shirt; just a leather jacket draped over his impressively built torso.
I could see why the other girls went crazy over him. Everything about him screamed dominance and raw testosterone.
Now Billy was walking my direction and I was running low on punch and confidence.
Yes; originally I’d planned to play the role of tease tonight, and drive Billy crazy with what he could see, but couldn’t touch. But he was forty two seconds of beer down and pumped up on the adoration of half the school, so I was having second thoughts.
Sober Billy was fun to tease, if not a little over persistent; drunk Billy was an unfamiliar entity that could turn out to be downright dangerous.
So I made my exit, slipping back into the crowd and relative anonymity.
—————————————
The kitchen looked like it had become the first fatality of what was sure to be a deadly night of binge drinking and bad decisions.
The tile floor now closely resembled a a swimming pool, complete with indeterminate objects that I had no intention of inspecting swimming on the surface.
The kitchen counters looked like the world’s largest game of beer pong, cups of various colours and fullness on every available inch of clear space. I didn’t even want to know what was in some of them; the smell of them strong enough to hit you from across the room.
I’d managed to find Steve and Nancy again earlier, though it was clear Nancy was well in her cups, and Steve was trying desperately to stop her from becoming any deeper.
I’d managed to convince her into trying something that didn’t have enough of an alcohol content to sedate a horse, but it seemed Tina had stockpiled just as many mixers as booze; though the former seemed vastly less popular.
I made my way back through the thick of the crowd, wanting to make sure I got Nancy something that’d actually stay down, rather than end up painted across the front of her sweater. I could already see the top of Steve’s hair, rising high above the crowd like a homing beacon; at least it wasn’t completely useless.
“Hey Nance; do you want soda or...” I began, threading through the crowd towards them, when I suddenly realised they weren’t alone.
I felt like I’d walked on set in the middle of one of those Wild West movies my dad liked to watch; the sheriff facing off against the stranger in black.
Billy stood nearly chest to chest with Steve, looking as if he was moments away from flooring him, but at the sound of my voice his focus shifted; his demeanour no less predatory.
“Lola...” He purred, with a smirk that made me feel like he was undressing me with words alone. Up close I could see the evidence of his keg stand running down his tanned chest; slick trails threading between his taught abs.
Still; I kept stony, not trusting Billy in the slightest.
“Hargrove.” I spat; arms crossed over my chest in a way hoped said back off, but may have came across as nervous.
His smirk spread across his face; eyes falling to trail over my body, stopping at all the strategic points along the way.
”Like the costume...” He commented, wetting his lips as if I was desert on a platter. “Just like I imagined.”
I could already figure out exactly what he’d imagined, and I’m pretty sure it didn’t include clothes.
“Thanks.” I forced a smile faker than Tina’s attitude; dry and bitter just like half the booze on offer at this shithole of a party.
Still; Steve wasn’t gonna just stand around whilst Billy stared at me as if I was something from his private Playboy collection; the usurped king was instead experiencing a serious case of white knight syndrome.
“Hey; why don’t you back the hell off...” Steve warned, stepping forwards between me and Billy, so Billy could no longer blatantly leer at me.
It didn’t put his successor off in the slightest; Billy stepping past Steve as if he was an inanimate object to continue to proposition me.
“Why don’t you come and have a dance with me?” He asked with one of those smiles that made Tina turn into a shivering puddle of hormones.
“I’ll pass.” I replied with another dry smile, then turned to make a swift exit before he could come up with another bullshit reason to waste my time and my patience.
“Come on; sweetheart...” He purred, and I felt his hand lock around my wrist; not painfully so, but just firm enough to tell me that I’d leave when he let me, and not a moment sooner.
I gave him a dark look, because really? He was gonna try this with me?
But before I could give him the verbal lashing of a lifetime; Steve beat me to it, ripping Billy’s hand from my wrist with more force than I thought was possible for the doe eyed brunette.
“Dude; she said no!” Steve said, and despite his gentle chastisement; his face and tone told him that he wasn’t messing around.
But neither was Billy. He turned to Steve; his former aggression returning as quickly as it left.
“I’m sorry; I wasn’t aware you were her boyfriend...” Spat Billy; already ready to open an entire new can of worms and with it, let out a whole lot of alcohol infused testosterone.
Steve wasn’t gonna take it; though sometimes I really wish he would.
I really didn’t need saving; I’m goddamn Lola Hopper. Boys like Billy Hargrove should shit themselves when I approached.
But Steve; always the hero, came at him with all the verbal reasoning that Billy had no patience for.
“Just because she’s not my girlfriend; doesn’t mean I’m gonna let you drag her around like-“
But Billy truly didn’t have the patience or the mental capacity. He was half a keg in and looking for a fight.
Steve never got to finish his argument; Billy slamming him hard against the wall like some freshman, and not the previous reigning keg king.
“Excuse me?” Billy growled; his voice low and threatening, and really doing more for me than his sleazy flirting, but I had more important things to worry about than how Billy’s temper was a turn on!
My best friend was about to become an interestingly shaped stain on Tina’s parents’ wallpaper.
“Who the fuck do you think you are, Harrington?” Billy’s voice dropped another octave; his body inches away from Steve’s and although he didn’t touch him,
I knew he was seconds away from knocking the noble idiot unconscious.
Even then, Steve couldn’t take a hint. Always honourable; he was prepared to go down fighting, but I wasn’t ready to see him become a martyr.
“Billy; I’ve changed my mind...” I quickly thought on my feet, slipping between the two of them in the vain hope that the possibility of physical contact on the table was enough to shake Billy out of his rage.
“I think I want that dance...” I forced a pretty smile, grabbing his wrist softly in the hope he might unclench his fists in favour of touching me again.
It wasn’t working. Billy was far too worked up; it was if I was invisible. So I moved a bit closer; letting my body brush up against his as I slipped my hand down to grab his.
“Come on; Billy. He’s not worth it...” I whispered; my voice just husky enough to hold a little promise.
“But I might be...” I gave him an impish smile; all raw sexuality and desire, one that I’d of previously thrown up at the prospect of exchanging with Billy Hargrove.
To my great relief; he relaxed, his shoulders lowering and his jaw unclenching. His hand wrapped around my own, squeezing with just a little bit of pressure; a reluctant retreat on the condition that I upheld my end of the bargain.
I took him by the hand and pulled him away from Steve, heading towards the dance floor and hopefully putting as much distance between the two alphas as possible.
But even now; Steve wouldn’t relent, stepping forward ready to defend my honour.
“Lola; you don’t have to...” He petitioned, as if I wasn’t doing this to protect him.
“It’s fine, Steve.” I reassured him, making the words more forceful than necessary in case his dumb overprotective brain continued to reject self preservation.
But of course; my pushy prospective dance partner couldn’t keep his mouth shut.
“Yeah, Steve; it’s fine.” He mimicked; his smirk so full of venom, I’m surprised it didn’t melt his pretty face off.
At last, Steve relented, letting me lead my volatile pretty boy onto the dance floor without blood on his knuckles.
————————————
Surprisingly; Billy was actually a semi decent dance partner. He kept rhythm well enough and gave me enough room that I didn’t feel he was trying to hump me in front of the whole school.
We were two songs down; “Dancing With Myself” pumping through the overdriven sound system, and I hadn’t once accidentally-on-purpose tried to step on Billy’s toes.
If I was to be painfully honest, and believe me; admitting this was painful, I was actually enjoying dancing with Billy.
When he wasn’t so heavily focused on appearing the bad boy, he was actually pretty cool. He smiled more often; a genuine warm smile that was nothing like that sleazy grin he used on me all the time. He was actually cute.
“Are you feeling alright?” He asked after spinning me under his arm for the third time tonight; and I’m not sure if it was the dizziness or the alcohol, but I was actually beginning to feel giddy.
“Yeah; why?” I replied with a smile; my gaze getting lost in those bright baby blues that were staring at me with something other than lust.
“It’s just; it’s been half an hour and you haven’t threatened to shiv me with a beer bottle...” He joked; yeah, actually joked, with a wide smile on his face.
And God! His face just lit up when he was being genuinely funny and not an ass; and for a split second I was hit with the almost uncontrollable urge to kiss him.
Almost uncontrollable. I reigned it in at the last minute; not trusting my tipsy brain to have that much control, at least not when it came to Billy Hargrove.
I bit my lip instead; feeling an honest to God blush spread across my cheeks.
“Shut up once in a while and it might happen more often...” I retorted, lowering my voice just enough that he could tell his joke hit right.
He just smiled, and my pulse just skipped another beat as he swept me into another spin; happy just to keep his body close to mine for the remainder of the night.
#stranger things#stranger things 2#stranger things fandom#stranger things2#fanfiction#fanfic#strangerthingsfanfiction#strangerthingsfanfic#original character#stranger things oc#strangerthings oc#jim hopper daughter#hopper daughter#Billy Hargrove#billy hargove x reader#billy hargrove fanfiction#steve harrington#steve harrington x reader#Nancy Wheeler
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okay - things i didn't like about stranger things 3
this season was epic in a number of ways. but it definitely had more character and narrative issues than the last two seasons by a mile.
spoilers under cut!!!!
hopper's characterisation this season. they tried to make him protective dad w el in ep 1&2, and like it kinda worked, but it would've been so much better if he'd actually had a proper scene w el. these two characters and actors are at their best when they're interacting - and we didn't really get ANY of that. hopper and joyce have been mostly supportive of each other through out the show and have never really established themselves as the bickering couple before. in trying to do that the duffers just turned hop into a total asshole - which made me NOT root for them as much as i have in the past. of course ultimately hop is a good guy and he finally acted like it in the final two episodes. (once again his (brief) scene w el was one of his best and after a whole season i finally remembered why i liked his character in the first place.) but honestly for me - despite his death/sacrifice - it DOES NOT make up for 6 episodes of shitty behaviour.
hopper and joyce's disconnect from the kids. after two seasons for joyce and a season for hop establishing them as the protective parents they're awfully blasé about what the hell their kids are up to for the middle part of the season. joyce at least tried to contact them after a few episodes but hopper really didn't seem to care until he actually saw el, which just felt like a major misstep for me. all it would've taken was an "el" accompanied by a worried face when they found out about what the russians were doing but like... nothing.
karen. the whole thing w her and billy just... no. i'm glad they dropped it and she remembered she was a mom about halfway through.
the disconnect at the start between the family groups. we didn't see any indication of the family units at the start. you would never know nancy and mike were siblings until they both had their separate scenes w karen. you would never jonathan and will were brothers until joyce said "your brother will look after you". some protective nature or even a single line of dialogue passed between the siblings would've grounded the show a little more.
the kissing between el and mike at the start... it was just a little uncomfortable to watch. and i know that's the point. i know it's supposed to be bc they're young teens who don't know what they are doing - just that they liked each other. but i get why it was driving hop crazy.
more on el and mike... the fight was semi realistic. hop would frighten off boyfriends, but it also felt like a sidestep from mike and el's soulmate level connection in s2. why couldn't el just go over to mike's??? he has a basement... that's what they're for lmao. but it was fun to see them navigate something more atune to normal young relationships. and it showcases that their bond was still more than 14 year old boyfriend/girlfriend. plus it gave us those el/max scenes so overall more enjoyable than not.
jonathan. he just did not have his own storyline this season and honestly i don't care. would've liked to see him interact more w will and his mom bc i think that's where his character shines.
max caring for billy? she showed nothing but animosity for him last season - and he showed nothing but abusive tendencies towards her. obviously they've lived together for many years and there would be some conflicting emotions but... it was just to much like love and not enough like a child upset by something traumatising happening to their abuser.
this season whilst fantastic and enthralling definitely had the most issues for me out of all 3.
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A Pool Day
Author’s Note: If you’re a writer please feel free to message me! I want to make writer friends and hopefully they’ll help me grow as a writer. I really want to dive into the tumblr writing community (especially because I fall under different fandoms). Also for this piece; keep in mind that this is fiction so I change some things around to fit the plot!
Promt: “If you don’t start getting undressed I may just rip your shirt in half.” & “You’re so beautiful words can’t even do you justice.”
Pairing: Jonathan Byers x Reader, Steve Harrington x Nancy Wheeler
Warnings: cussing & kissing
Summer’s in Hawkins used to go smoothly. That was until the party and their siblings got involved with the Upsidedown. After Will got caught up in being possessed by the Mind Flayer everyone figured it would be best to take a bit of a break from, as Steve liked to call it, the crazy shit. Things also settled between Steve and Nance, after she spent many nights at your house ranting about Steve. You got her to realize that he wasn’t a shitty boyfriend and how her confusion and paranoia from everything that had happened was causing her to lash out. In the end, she agreed that her feelings for Jonathan we’re strictly platonic and that she was still in love with Steve. This was good for you, since you had practically been in love with Jonathan since the seventh grade. But the four of you grew closer and closer as months carried on. You ended up spending weekends and breaks with each other, trying to do typical teenage things.
That’s how the four of you ended up at the community pool on this warm Indiana summer day. Well, you four and the six children currently running around the pool.
“Hey Nance, you girls wore your suits under your clothes right?” Steve asked his girlfriend, sitting up from his lawn chair.
“Yeah we did. Or at least I did. Y/N, you put yours on too, right?” She asked turning to you.
“Oh, yeah I did. Are we going in already? I kinda like just sitting here.” You stretched out on your own chair, shutting your eyes and placing your arms under your head.
“Okay well you two can stay here, Steve and I are going in. Come on Steve.” Nancy started to pull off her top layer of clothes, revealing a cute polka dot suit. You’ll have to remember to ask her where she got it from. Your cousin would love something like that for her birthday.
“See you guys in the water!” Steve shouted, being dragged to the pool by his girlfriend.
“Y/N, come on! Let’s go in. Everyone else is in.” Jonathan pleaded with his eyes, breaking out into a smile.
“Jonathaann,” you dragged out his name, sitting up from your comfortable position on the chair, “If we go in then I have to undress and apply sunscreen and I hate stretching myself in a thousand different positions to cover my back. It’s all just such a hassle.”
You went to lay back down until Jonathan appeared in your peripheral vision, standing right in front of you, arms crossed.
“Y/N seriously? That’s ridiculous. If you don’t start getting undressed I may just rip your shirt in half and do it myself. Now come on, off with the shirt. We’re going in.” He tugged on your top blouse, indicating for you to get a move on with it.
“Fine. But you’re putting the sunscreen on my back. I’m not gonna stretch all around and I’m most definitely not gonna burn.” You took off your top layers, grabbing the sunscreen from your pool bag and handing it to Jonathan.
“Okay, just be sure to get all the skin. I don’t need my already crappy skin to get even uglier and crusty.” You tell him, a breathy laugh escaping your lips.
“What crappy skin? I think you’re skin is pretty nice.” you can feel the cool touch of the sunscreen as he starts to apply it to your shoulders.
“Shut up Jonathan. I might have okay skin, but I’m nothing compared to Nancy. In all aspects..” you whispered the last part, hoping your insecurities wouldn’t shine through. The last thing you needed was for your best friend/crush to find out how insecure you were in comparison to Nancy.
But he heard, “Are you kidding me? You’re so beautiful words can’t even do you justice. I’m sure hundreds of girls wished they looked like you.”
He pulled away from your back, giving it a tap to let you know he was finished. You turned around to face him, a slow blush rising to his cheeks as he tried to avoid your gaze.
“Jonathan… I, uh,” you weren’t sure exactly what to say so you did the only thing that felt right in the moment. You leaned in towards him slowly, maintaining eye contact.
In a split second Jonathan’s lips were on yours in a quick and gentle kiss. When you pulled apart you were the one to start blushing, averting your eyes to the pool. That’s when you noticed Nancy, Steve, and the kids all watching you from the waters edge. Knowing smirks on Nancy and Steve’s faces.
“About damn time!” Steve called out, whoops and hollers coming from the kids.
You turned back to Jonathan, burying your embarrassed face in his chest as his arm wrapped around your waist.
#jonathan byers#jonathan byers x reader#nancy wheeler#steve harrington#nancy wheeler x steve harrington#jonathan byers imagine#jonathan byers request#stranger things#stranger things imainge#steve harrington imagine#nancy wheeler imagine#hawkins#hawkins summer
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Axe to the Heart: Chapter 9
Astrid Hofferson/Steve Harrington. “Maybe I hate a lot of things here in Hawkins but I suppose you’re not one of them.”
Chapter 8
This chapter is dialogue HEAVY you guys...
Her nose wasn’t stuffed, and her throat didn’t hurt, and she wasn’t really nauseous, but she had had a headache the entire day, felt drowsy and cold all at once, and to top it all off, she had the whole day to actually, freely think about everything Hopper had told her last night. The demogorgon. The dogs. The Upside Down. Jane’s abilities. Her abuse. How a bunch of kids were dealing with things that kids shouldn’t have been dealing with.
And how her parents weren’t allowed to know because not many people were allowed to know. Because it wasn’t supposed to be known. Other dimensions and monsters were hidden away from people like her.
So Astrid spent the day groaning pitifully to no one in particular. She wanted to go -
Well, she didn’t want to go home, but she also did. Berk was strange, but it was beautiful and mysterious and it was her life. Hawkins had been dull and dry until this all happened. And maybe the excitement would be welcome if it didn’t come so fast and with a dose of child abuse.
There was a light knock on her window, and Astrid saw the hair before she looked at her clock. It wasn’t that late, but there was no reason for Steve to come. Their presentation had been today, and she had missed it.
Still, she trudged up and opened the window, reaching out and plucking a leaf from his hair before allowing him to come in. “Did you drive here? Can you even do that with your leg?”
“It wasn’t that bad.” Steve closed the window and then she saw he had a bag in his hand. “I was already out, I had to drop someone off at the middle school dance.”
“Was it…” She tried to remember a name from the multitude Hopper had given her yesterday. “Lucas?”
He shook his head. “Dustin. Here, I picked up soup for you.”
Astrid blinked in surprise, but took the bag without protest. She’d been too lazy to eat too much all day. “Um...thanks.” She looked up at him. “You didn’t have to.”
Steve snorted as she sat down on the bed with the bag next to her and flopped down, his head on her lap. “And I should have let you make your own soup? Please, I didn’t want you to die.”
She flicked his ear (it had been one bad smoothie and suddenly she was a bad cook? Unbelievable.) and yawned softly. “Why are you here? We don’t have anything to work on.”
“No,” Steve agreed, “but A, your parents are never home and you’re taking care of yourself, B, I didn’t have anything else to do, and C, you kissed me yesterday. We’re not going to just ignore that, are we?”
To her benefit, the way he brought it up caused her just to roll her eyes rather than any of that cursed blushing she’d been doing lately. “I just found out about alternate dimensions and me kissing you is what you wanna talk about?”
“Alternate dimensions will still be here tomorrow,” he said with a wide grin, raising his head slightly.
“While your lips won’t?”
Steve sighed dramatically and fell right back into her lap. “I thought Hopper already told you everything.”
“He did,” Astrid murmured, distractedly running her fingers through his hair, “I got Eleven, superpowers, bad lab people, missing Will, fake body, more monsters but little ones...I heard a lot, but not much about your involvement.”
He smirked; it seemed everything she said today was enough to set him off. He leaned up with his elbow propped up on the bed and his head in his hand. “How about this? I’ll tell you my involvement if you tell me something.”
Astrid furrowed her brows - how was she the interesting one right now? Lying on her stomach to face him eye to eye, she nodded. “Shoot.”
“Who are those people?”
Steve jerked his head towards the picture of the gang still propped up on top of her drawer, and her heart leaped in her chest. “Why?”
He gazed at her for a few seconds, and then said quietly and sincerely, “Because you look beyond happy in those pictures, and I’ve never seen you like that. Happy, yeah, but not that. Not...her,” he said, looking at the photo curiously.
“I…” Her voice caught in her throat. “That’s...they’re...important.” She took a deep breath and forced herself to look into Steve’s eyes. “They’re...the most important people in the world to me. They’re my best friends.”
She closed her eyes for a second, expecting a laugh or something, but when she opened her eyes, he was looking at her, intrigued, so she bit her lip and went on.
“I grew up with the gang. We...all of us played in the mud together, went on swings, took the mickey out of each other.” A small smile graced her lips as fond memories rushed through her head. “It was like...us against the world. There was me and Ruffnut, we were the only girls.”
Steve wasn’t looking at her anymore, he was looking at the picture and squinting as she described them all. “There was Ruff’s twin brother, Tuffnut, or Tuff. Fishlegs. He’s the other blonde boy. Snotlout, the short one. And…” She swallowed. “And the brunette is Hiccup.”
Her voice must have cracked, because he turned back to her and a look of understanding passed through his face. “And you and Hiccup dated.” It wasn’t a question.
“How did you -”
“I wouldn’t know for sure,” Steve mumbled, his cheeks reddening slightly, “but I think...the way you were looking at his picture just now?” He looked down. “I think that’s the way I was looking at Nancy when I saw her volunteering at the dance.”
“Oh.” She didn’t know what to do with that information. “That’s…”
“Pathetic, I know. She’s moved on, so why can’t I?”
Astrid hummed in thought for a few seconds and then said, “Just because she’s dating Byers doesn’t mean she’s moved on. She probably still cares.”
He snorted, sitting up with a slightly pained expression. “Of course she cares. She’s Nancy Wheeler. She’s nice and sweet and she...she cares about everyone…”
Oh, like she’d never met anyone like that before.
‘Hiccup too.” She sat up and he put his arm around her shoulders, pulling her in. “He was nice and smart and funny and he loved animals.”
“He sounds like a great guy.”
“Nancy sounds like a great girl.”
“And we sound fucking pathetic.”
A laugh escaped her and she pressed her face against his chest. He wasn’t wrong, they were praising each other’s exes. “Well, we’re the assholes in the relationships, remember?”
“Yeah, we are.” He took a deep breath and then his words came out in a rush. “Last year, I saw Jonathan in Nancy’s room and my fucking head told me that meant she was cheating on me. I let my friend - at the time - spray paint shit about her. Then I...I…”
Deciding to follow his example, she didn’t say anything, but held his hand to show she was listening.
“I...insulted Will, and Jonathan punched me, and oh God, I fucking deserved it. So I went to his house to apologize but fought a demogorgon instead.”
Astrid breathed softly, looking up at him. “But Nancy was still dating you. What about this year? You had to deal with the...the demodogs?”
He gave a short nod. “Yeah. Dustin needed my help and I didn’t realize there was so many of them. I thought I could take it. Anyway, at some point Billy showed up -”
“Hargrove?”
“Yeah, Hargrove. He hates Lucas and he hates that his sister Max is with Lucas and he came and he pushed the kid onto a shelf.”
“What the fuck?” Astrid pulled back, staring at him incredulously. “What could Lucas have done that was so -”
“Billy’s racist.”
Pieces clicked together in her brain, and she nodded slowly. Great, more child abuse, just what this story needed, and now with a sprinkle of racism. Perfect.
“I got him away from Lucas, and I punched him, but then he smashed a plate on my head -” Astrid winced, trying not to imagine terrified kids watching their teenage protector lose a fight to someone who was out to hurt them - “and started to beat me up.” He scoffed lightly. “I guess I kinda deserved that one too. Once I hit the ground...I let him. At least he was beating me up instead of the kids, right?”
Steve’s voice was shaking, and Astrid, vividly remembering how Snotlout would tremble just like that whenever he talked about his shitty father, slid her arms around his neck and pulled him close, so that he could hide his face as he tucked it in the crook of her neck.
“He kept going. And going. Until...well, I passed out, but they told me Max stabbed him with a syringe that knocked him out.” She felt a slight wetness on her skin. “So a thirteen year old saved me because I couldn’t bother to hit back after a few punches.”
Astrid felt tears prickling at the corner of her ears too (to think that she’d thought he got those bruises in some stupid alpha male fight!) and she rubbed his back. “Hey. It’s okay. You...you were amazing, okay? Hiccup’s dad, he told me once that we both were warriors, born to protect. You are too. We’re protectors.”
Steve didn’t respond to that, but he wrapped his arms around her waist and grabbed fistfuls of her shirt, holding her close.
Then, after a minute, he said, without letting go of her, “I’m not over Nance.”
“I know.”
“I think you’re amazing, and - and a great kisser, and I wanna be with you, but it’s not fair if I’m still thinking about her.”
“I know what you mean.” She glanced at the photo over the shoulder. “I don’t think I’m ready yet either. Definitely attracted to you, but…”
“But let’s wait awhile.”
“Yeah. Maybe the feelings will go away.”
“Or maybe they’ll stay.”
“Maybe,” Astrid said softly.
It was then Steve pulled back, wiping his eyes (a lot more softly than she did when she was crying, but she was starting to notice he was a soft boy in general).
“Sorry. You’re sick. We should - I should....uh…”
Astrid bit back a smile and then closed her eyes, resting her head on his shoulder. “Just hold me, yeah?”
Steve complied, and as she was warmed up by his arms and soothed by the sound of his heartbeat, she thought that it should have felt like the end of a story just about now.
Instead, it felt like the beginning.
Okay, so I have like, five people who read this thing, and I want to ask you:
Since there’s no real plot running in my head, but a bunch of oneshot ideas, do you want me to end this story here and post them as separate oneshots in this universe? Or should it just be new chapters for this, but without a real plot (i.e. the Upside Down, demogorgon) and just Steve and Astrid’s developing relationship?
Also, either way, I’d like you guys to send in prompts for oneshots that I won’t guarantee I’ll write each one, but hopefully they’ll inspire me and you can send me as many as you want (but only for them at this stage of their relationship, close friends but not dating, once they start dating it can be prompts for that. You can still send romantic prompts, but they won’t be dating).
Please let me know!
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