#steddie blackmail fic

[atmilliways]

Wrong On The Money (19)

part 19 of ?? | 1018 words | Teen+

Blackmail fic on Ao3 | on tumblr

Summary:

He looks up from jamming a rag into a Molotov cocktail, both startled and completely unsurprised to see Eddie standing there. From the drawn look on his face, it must be time for Steve to finish that conversation from the woods.

I took a posting break on Sunday, but here's slightly more words than usual to make up for it.

19.

“Steve, a word in the RV?”

He looks up from jamming a rag into a Molotov cocktail, both startled and completely unsurprised to see Eddie standing there. From the drawn look on his face, it must be time for Steve to finish that conversation from the woods.

His eyes slide over to Robin. “You mind finishing these?”

She shoots him a flat look. “Oh, no, whatever will I do without your strong and manly assistance with these last two bottles?”

“Suffer?” Steve suggests brightly, and slaps both hands on his knees to lever himself up. The bites on his torso ache still, a constant background throb even after redressing them with a field kit from the War Zone. He waves towards the RV. “Lead the way, Munson.”

Following Eddie up the steps, he doesn't comment on the fact that Eddie’s boxers are riding up while his jeans, supported by barely any ass at all, are riding down. That would make it too obvious that he’s been looking. Noticing it a while ago while the guy was play-wrestling with Dustin doesn’t exactly help his case there.

Eddie’s energy is . . . strange, for him. He’s always a little restless, messing with his hair or fidgeting with his rings. But now there’s an unfamiliar, almost pained pinch to his mouth now, and the degree of fidgeting is astronomically high. Even for the guy who Steve once witnessed get detention for dropping his pencil too many times during a five question pop quiz.

As soon as the door shits behind them, Eddie wheels around and launches straight into it. “Why the fuck did you pay me, Steve?”

Those deep brown eyes settle on him, trying to bore into him to get at the truth by sheer force of will. Steve still has yet to decide for sure if he wants Eddie to look at him, but it’s happening now and it’s making his breath catch in his throat. (Even though he's pretty sure Eddie hates him on principle.) He fixes his own gaze on Eddie’s hands, twitching in agitation at his sides.

“I know it’s not because you didn’t want me to tell Robin where I saw you,” Eddie continues, “or because you had the money to throw around. So why?”

Steve frowns at the second part. “Who told you that?”

“Dustin said your dad cut you off a while ago. And some of the other kids confirmed when I asked.” Eddie’s hands flex, fingers curling hard into his palm. If there were more light in here, his rings would glitter in it; Steve’s never seen that before, because they’ve almost always met each other at night. “Answer the fucking question.”

“Alright.” Steve crosses his arms across his chest, which pulls at his injuries, but not so much that he can’t ignore it. “Dustin told me about your uncle being sick.”

“He. . . . He what?”

Steve meets Eddie’s shocked deer-in-the-headlights stare (fucking Bambi eyes that make him feel rooted where he stands) and shrugs. “Told you he’s a butthead. But, uh . . . yeah, he was all upset when he first found out, because he kinda lost his dad the same way.”

“You—” And there Eddie's hands go, flying up to his hair, one on top of his head as if to keep it from popping off and the other twisting into a clump of it. “You knew about that? This whole time?!”

Despite not having anything to hide, nothing he’s ashamed of in this, Steve’s first instinct is still to backpedal. Something about seeing Eddie all doe-eyed and squeaky and . . . he looks like he feels bad.

“Yeah?” Steve ventures, running a hand through his own hair, and worries a corner of his lip with his teeth. “Look, I know you don’t have any reason to like the guy I was in high school, and I’m not asking you to. The bottom line is that it’s shit I’m trying to make up for now, and I knew you weren’t blackmailing me just to be a dick, so . . . yeah, I just sort of went with it.”

Eddie makes a sound of objection, but otherwise doesn’t interrupt. 

“I gave you money. I helped somebody not die—" Steve ticks them off on his fingers as he goes "—and didn't even get another concussion doing it, which is a new personal record. Oh, and I figured out how to make ends meet. Which is something I really need to know, considering my job prospects since I didn’t go to college. Mutual, uh. . . .” Steve frowns, shrugs. “We both got something out of it. It’s not that big a deal.”

And the thing is, he means it. He walked into this knowing what he was getting into, accepting it right from the start.

They stare at each other for a long moment before Eddie shakes his head in disbelief and leans back against the kitchenette table like it’s a stool.

“You’re something else, Harrington,” he mutters, rubbing both hands over his face. “I can’t believe you’re a good dude, it flies in the face of everything I believe . . . and fucking yet.” Sighing, he peeks over the tips of his fingers with big, expressive eyes that, for once, aren’t glaring or squinting at Steve suspiciously.

The warmth creeps up into Steve’s face. It’s not exactly a standing ovation, but Eddie Munson isn’t known for doling out praise to jocks. 

It’s been a long day, and they’re in for an even longer night. There isn’t much time to process what’s happening. But he takes exactly one step forward, no plan in mind, only knowing that while Eddie isn’t looking he can move again—

“Steve,” Robin yells, with a bang on the side of the RV. “Your kids were playing with sharp spear-knives and had an accident, bring band aids stat!”

Sighing, he redirects to grab the first aid kit. When Eddie drags his hands down to open his eyes again, Steve offers a rueful half-smile. “We’ll finish this up after?”

He doesn’t actually wait for an answer, but it doesn’t look like Eddie has anything lined up to say, the way his jaw drops.

#steddie blackmail fic #steddie #steddie fic #stranger things fic #eddie munson #steve harrington

[pizzaqueen]

First kiss fluff future fic for day three of @steddie-week (prompts discover and first kiss)

612 words / rated G or T

“No hot date tonight?” Eddie asks as Steve settles beside him on the couch with a bowl of popcorn. The couch is pretty old—it was old when they got it and that was years ago—and sinks in the middle. It means they always end up squished together, unless they sit at opposite ends; they usually end up squished.

Steve winks, throwing some popcorn in his mouth. “Only you.”

Eddie’s stupid pulse does an annoying little leap, which he steadfastly ignores. “When was the last time you went on a date, anyway?”

“When was the last time that was any of your business?”

Eddie snorts. “Don’t act all offended. I know things about you you’d pay me to keep quiet.”

“Oh, so this was all a lead up to blackmail?”

“No, I’m saving that for a rainy day.” Eddie grins, waggling his brows. Steve, unsurprisingly, rolls his eyes, then turns to the television. Eddie shrugs and adds, “I was just thinking I can’t remember the last time you went on a date. That’s all.”

“I guess I’ve given it up,” Steve says quickly, words almost masked as he shoves some more popcorn in his mouth. He swipes the remote from Eddie and starts flipping through the channels.

“You’ve given up on dating?” When Steve nods, Eddie says, “Why?” And then, stomach swooping sickly, “Have you met someone?”

There’s a beat and then Steve says, “No.” He glances at Eddie, lit by the flickering glow of the television. No matter how much Eddie looks at Steve, he doesn’t get any less beautiful. And Eddie should know—he’s spent a lot of time looking at Steve over the years they’ve been friends. Steve presses his lips together. “But I… I don’t know, I wasn’t finding what I wanted on any of my dates.”

“And you’re going to find it without dating?”

“I have.” Panic flickers in Steve’s eyes. “I mean, I’m happy enough. I don’t hate my job, I love this apartment, and I…” He swallows thickly. “I’d just rather be here with you.”

“Oh.” Eddie’s head swims. He must be dreaming because Steve can’t be saying what it sounds like he’s saying, can he?

“Not that… I don’t expect you to just stay here all the time with me, you know? Just because I’ve given up dating doesn’t mean you have to. I just meant…” Steve runs a hand over his face. “Fuck.”

“I’d rather be here with you too.” Eddie speaks quickly, heart beating hard.

Steve raises his brows. “Yeah?”

Eddie nods. “Yeah.” And then, taking a chance, he slides his hand into Steve’s, lacing their fingers together.

“Oh. You mean…” Steve looks down at their hands. “Oh.”

Shit. Eddie was wrong. Spooked, he tries to pull his hand away, but Steve holds on tight. “What?”

“I meant that too.” Steve rubs his thumb along Eddie’s hand. “Okay?”

Eddie exhales, breath catching on a nervous laugh. “Okay.” 

Steve smiles and Eddie smiles back and then Steve brings their joined hands to his mouth, kissing Eddie’s gently. 

Warmth rushes Eddie, filling him from head to toe, and he leans over and presses his lips to Steve’s. The bowl of popcorn is upturned, but Eddie only distantly registers the sound of it falling to the floor, his entire focus narrowing to Steve’s lips against his. 

“The popcorn,” Steve murmurs against Eddie’s mouth.

“I don’t care.”

“Yeah,” Steve says, “me either,” and kisses Eddie more deeply than before.

When they part, Steve says, “I guess you are my hot date, after all,” eyes twinkling.

“The hottest.”

Steve rolls his eyes, but he smiles and says, “No one hotter,” and kisses Eddie again and again.

#steddie #Steve x eddie #steddie fic #steddie fanfic #steddieweek2023 #its officially day three so I’m posting because I’m impatient lol #I’ve run out of my buffer fics now though lol #Pizzaqueenfic #steddie first kiss

[judasofsuburbia]

wip wednesday babey!!

In a reblog (or new post w/ rules attached), post up to five (5) filenames of your WIPs; not titles, file names.

Post a snippet from one of them. Snippet must be words you wrote in the last 7 days. We’re posting progress here. If you haven’t made any, go make some and come back to post!

After you’ve posted, people can send you an ask with one of your file names. You must then write 3 sentences in that file. If the filename is one you can't share from (for example, an event fic), write 3 sentences on it anyway, and then 3 more on another to share.

That’s it! You can invite others to join in, or just post. If you tag me in your post, I will send you an ask request!

wips:

when you were young (firstprince)

teacher steve au: the date (steddie)

bullriding i guess!! (jargyle cowboy au)

ballet/stage crew fruity four (ronance+steddie)

snippet from teacher steve au:

 “Practically adopted me in high school. Insisted I came to family dinners and so I would come home with her son, Jonathan, after school and help her. Her scalloped potatoes are…” Steve kisses his fingertips. “To fucking die for.”

Eddie lets out a low whistle. “Fuck, that sounds good. Should we call her?”

Steve giggles and rolls his eyes. “She would jump at the opportunity to embarrass me in front of a date. She knows too much about teenage Steve.”

Eddie reaches for his phone in Steve’s back pocket and Steve smacks his hand away. Eddie pouts.

“I wanna hear all about teenage Steve,” Eddie whines.

“No, you don’t.”

“I assure you I do,” Eddie grins. “Wayne would die to tell you about me. He has blackmail material for the rest of my damn life.”

“Now that sounds like fun,” Steve says.

“Second date isn’t actually with the two of us, it’s with Joyce and Wayne.”

“Romantic,” Steve deadpans but his heart beats louder at the thought of a second date.

tagging with no pressure: @kkpwnall @hellsfireclub @gideoncharov @seths-rogens @fragilecapric0rnn @cheatghost @fastcardotmp3 @steves-strapcollection @starrystevie @inairbinad @stobinesque @sidekick-hero @yournowheregirl @legitcookie @scarcrossdlvrs @scoops-stevie @matchingbatbites @thefreakandthehair + anyone who would like to join!!

#wip wednesday #pls god teacher steve is so close to being done i just need MIDDLE BITS

[boltedfruit]

So I've been (slowly) researching for my steddie Victorian/Gilded Age fic and the book Strangers: Homosexual Love in the Nineteenth Century is such a treasure trove of information.

My method is first scouring books based on entries mentioning the United States, and one such entry detailed marriages. Then I'll go back and read through chapters in their entirety. But this quote is 💕😭💪

"Marriages continued to be a common expression of love and sociality. A surprising number of priests and vicars were prepared to perform marriages for homosexual men and lesbians and there were also private arrangements. Anne Lister and her lover Marianne agreed to ‘solemnize’ their mutual vows ‘by taking the sacrament together’.

These were not always subterranean (private) affairs. In the late 1800s there is evidence of hotels rented for weddings, male brides in gorgeous gowns, exotic honeymoons (sometimes ruined by blackmailers), and bridal bouquets kept under glass in front parlors."

#gay history

[usermischief]

First Lines

Rules: Post the first lines of your last 10 fics posted to AO3. (Sort by date posted.) If you have less than 10 fics posted, post what you have!

Thanks @amatchinwater and @sapphireginger for the tag! 💖💖

begin again (Steo) See, blackmail is something he expects from people like Theo and Peter, and Deucalion, maybe even Jackson on some special occasions.

2. knew all along (Steddie) “Shit.” Steve hops over the floor of Eddie’s trailer, trying to slip into his jeans while simultaneously looking for his socks.

3. die for him (Sterek) Stiles spits out blood and leans his head back a little, taking a deep breath.

4. coffee and confrontation (Steo) “Okay, can you stop with the—” Stiles gestures in the direction of Lydia’s face, narrowing his eyes slightly “— the judgmental expression? It’s getting on my nerves.”

5. old habits die hard (Briles) "Absolutely not."

6. (not so) innocent (Steddie) “Okay, but—”

7. wilder nights (Briles) Stiles curls his hands tightly into Brett’s hair, moaning into the kiss. 

8. falling apart (Steo) Theo slips into their shared apartment, shaking out the umbrella before deciding to drop it in the hallway.

9. trust fall (Stisaac) "How disappointing."

10. sugar and spice (and everything nice) (Steo) Stiles crouches on the edge of the stage, watching the crowd move to the music. 

---

I'm tagging everyone who wants to do this! 💖

#steo #sterek #stisaac #briles #steddie #teen wolf #stranger things #tagging game

[steddieficrecs]

Hi!! I have no idea if you also find lost fics, it’s fine if not, I just wanna cover all my bases. It’s a Steddie fic on ao3, set 10 years after season 4. Eddie lived, but Steve was left in the Upside Down for 8(?) days before being rescued by some government branch trying to fight the Upside Down. He spent a month in a coma, then was blackmailed into working for them and letting everyone in Hawkins think he’s dead. 10 years later, Robin is the singer for Eddie’s band, and at a concert in NYC, she thinks she saw Steve in the crowd. Steve, who has the alias Anthony Sullivan (I think??), was there, because there was a demogorgon. He has a partner named Adalaide, and there’s some other agents, but I can’t remember their names. His partner gats trapped in the Upside Down and he goes to get her. Meanwhile, Nancy has been looking for people who were presumed dead for no reason, and finds a photo of Steve. She tells Robin and Eddie, and they start to loom for him. It’s an incomplete fic.

Hey, its totally fine to ask for lost fics but I don’t think I’ve read this one before :/

Hopefully someone else has it saved 

#steddie #steddie asks #steddie lost fic

[adhd-lesbian]

I need help finding a lost fic!!! Please, I have literally spent days searching😭. It’s a Steddie fic on ao3, set 10 years after season 4. Eddie lived, but Steve was left in the Upside Down for 8(?) days before being rescued by some government branch trying to fight the Upside Down. He spent a month in a coma, then was blackmailed into working for them and letting everyone in Hawkins think he’s dead. 10 years later, Robin is the singer for Eddie’s band, and at a concert in NYC, she thinks she saw Steve in the crowd. Steve, who has the alias Anthony Sullivan (I think??), was there, because there was a demogorgon. He has a partner named Adalaide, and there’s some other agents, but I can’t remember their names. His partner gats trapped in the Upside Down and he goes to get her. Meanwhile, Nancy has been looking for people who were presumed dead for no reason, and finds a photo of Steve. She tells Robin and Eddie, and they start to loom for him. It’s an incomplete fic.

If you know this fic, please lmk, I’ve been scrolling through ao3 for so long😭😭

#fic #ao3 #steddie #steddie fic #help #lost fic #steve harrington #eddie munson

[atmilliways]

Wrong On The Money (1-3)

parts 1, 2, & 3 of ?? | 888 words | Teen+

Blackmail fic on Ao3 | on tumblr

Summary:

Wayne is sick and they don't have the money for the treatment he needs. Eddie, desperate and spread thin between school, a part time job, and dealing, spots Steve outside of a gay club and opts for blackmail. Steve, who has heard about Wayne through Dustin... just sort of lets him.

I started writing this while Ao3 is down. Haven't quite finished it yet, but I've got 6.7k written so far, so I should be able to do daily posts for at least a while!

Now also posted on Ao3.

Quick note, if it helps anyone who might be hit too close to home by Wayne's serious but relatively brief health scare. First, he's going to be fine. I love Wayne, I wouldn't do that to him. Second, Dustin's mind goes straight to cancer when he hears that it's serious serious, but Wayne's illness is never specified. The only symptoms described are basically a cough and general weakness/fatigue.

1.

Dustin is really upset one day after school, the day he tells Steve about his dad. 

Steve had never asked, alright? It was family shit, and that kind of thing was. . . . Well, not sacred, he can’t even think that and keep a straight face, but definitely private. There could’ve been any number of reasons why Mr. Henderson wasn’t around. 

Turns out it was cancer.

And . . . it’s not insensitive to wonder, right? Steve doesn't know if it’s an anniversary or if someone’s been giving him shit at school about not having a dad or something. So, after a few bumbling questions about why this is upsetting him now, an explanation comes tumbling out.

The leader or president or whatever of the nerd club Dustin joined at the start of the year had to cancel their game this week. “Eddie never cancels, Steve,” Dustin insists, eyes red from crying and voice gone all squeaky. “And we were giving him shit about it, we all were, even the upperclassmen guys, and he. . . he j-just broke, Steve. Said his uncle is r-really sick, bad sick, and I know what that means. They don’t have the money for treatment. He’s Eddie’s only family, and he’s probably going t-to. . . .”

Steve regrets dropping Robin off at her house first today. She might not know what to say either, but at least they’d be in this together. “Dust, that’s. . . . That’s awful.”

Turns out he doesn’t have to say anything else, because Dustin thumps against him and bawls his eyes out. 

2.

“It was awful, Robs,” Steve says, rubbing a hand over his eyes as he talks into the phone. “I haven’t seen him like that since after Starcourt, when we had to tell him about Hop.”

Robin’s wince is audible in her reply. “Yeah, that's. . . . That’s pretty bad.”

“Yeah.” He heaves a sigh, hoping it’ll get some of the constricted feeling out of his chest. It doesn’t.

“Steve? Are you okay?”

“I don’t know.” It’s just, he hates it. Hated it then and hates it now, because both times there’s no way for him to jump between Dustin and this thing. “Everything was starting to sort of feel okay again, and then suddenly there's Eddie ‘The Freak’ Munson and his uncle, who I’ve never even seen in my life—”

“It’s not about the Munsons, Steve,” Robin says gently. “You and Dustin have that ‘you die I die’ thing. He’s like your kid brother who annoys the shit out of you, but you love him to death anyway. And right now he’s sad but you can’t do anything to help.”

Lifting his face from his hand, Steve looks around the room. He’s on the big comfortable couch in his big fucking house with too many rooms, all empty except for this one. His parents are never home, always away on business trips that got way more frequent after Barbara Holland disappeared from a party he’d hosted. They send money—not an allowance, not since he didn’t get into any of the colleges he’d applied to. But the utility bills are always paid up, and a gardener still comes around to do lawn maintenance every other week.

He wonders how the cost of maintaining a house they don’t live in compares to the cost of whatever kind of treatment Munson’s uncle needs.

Doesn’t let himself wonder if it would make a difference, but he knows that treatments don’t always work. It hadn’t, apparently, for Dustin’s dad.

“Yeah,” Steve agrees heavily. “I know.”

3.

The nice thing about being done with high school and working weekends at a shitty retail job is, Steve can do whatever he wants on some weekdays. As long as he doesn’t have a shift that starts before noon the next day, anyway. Which he doesn’t.

So, a few days after Dustin’s revelations, Steve drives up to the nearest outskirts of Indy. Eventually he ends up in one of those clubs that he and Robin have been researching how to find.

He tells himself that he’s scoping it out before he brings her, but he wants to get lost for a while. Empty his head out of things he can’t do a damn thing about—the Upside Down, the monsters, the Russians, the Munsons, the memories of Dustin crying and, just for funsies, of Nancy calling him bullshit. Because that’s always somewhere in the mix, these days.

Fill it back up with music and movement. Not with drinks, because he still has to get himself back to Hawkins in one piece.

He goes and he dances and he sweats. Sometimes guys dance with him, and Steve goes with it. Who cares? No one knows him here, it doesn’t mean anything.

Turns out, it does mean something after all. 

When Steve finally stumbles his way out of the club, he finds none other than Eddie Munson sitting on the hood of the Beemer he’s been buying off of his parents in installments. (Their idea. It’s a ‘pay for it or lose it’ kind of deal.) 

The buzzing under his sweat-tacky skin—satisfaction at successfully getting out of his head—fizzles out. He keeps walking and stops when he draws even with the car. 

Eddie Munson, looking tired and prickling with restless energy, and exhales a cloud of smoke and vapor into the chilly air. “Hey, man. What’s a nice boy like you doing in a place like this?”

#steddie blackmail fic #steddie #steddie fic #stranger things fic #slow burn #steve harrington #dustin henderson #robin buckley #eddie munson #protective older brother steve harrington #steve harrington has bad parents #my fanfic

[atmilliways]

Wrong On The Money (26)

part 26 of ?? | 930 words | Teen+

Blackmail fic on Ao3 | on tumblr

Summary:

Eddie pretends to be asleep while Lucas is there, and of course a paladin’s first questions on waking would be to make sure everyone else is okay. Their entire conversation makes him feel like a cockroach.

I have, let's see... about 17k total of this written, and about 14k of it posted so far. I'm also on a work trip for the next couple days, so I'm going to focus on writing for a bit rather than posting. Honestly, I didn't expect this concept to take off the way it did? But I'm bad at keeping things short these days, so I'm not sure what I expected.

Anyway, please enjoy more of these two dummies working out their shit and I'll see y'all again on Thursday. ❤️

26.

Eddie pretends to be asleep while Lucas is there, and of course a paladin’s first questions on waking would be to make sure everyone else is okay. 

Their entire conversation makes him feel like a cockroach. But as much as he wishes he could slip off the bed and skitter away to lurk in a basement or something, he’d promised he would talk to Steve. Wayne isn’t often serious enough about something to ask for his word, but when he does, Eddie knows he means it.

So he waits until Lucas leaves, and a while longer to give Steve a moment. When he chances a look over, Steve catches the movement and jerks a hand away from where he'd been wiping his face.

“Hey there,” Eddie mumbles, already feeling like this is off to a bad start.

Steve blinks back at him with puffy, bloodshot eyes. “Hey.”

Even in a fucking hospital gown and with unwashed hair falling lank and greasy across his forehead, he still manages to look handsome. It should be illegal. It makes Eddie want to cradle his face in both hands and ask him where it hurts, but cockroaches don't have hands.

“So I, uh.” He can feel his face heating up. “I hear I owe you my life.”

The wince that flashes across Steve’s face is immediate . “You don’t. . . . You don’t owe me, man. It’s—I mean, does Dustin owe you?”

No. He probably owes Dustin, actually, for almost dying in his arms and traumatizing the shit out of him. But that’s not the point, and not something he wants to say to Steve right now, in this context.

“I started this wrong,” Eddie decides out loud. “Be kind, rewind?”

Steve raises both eyebrows at him. “In my experience, most people don’t,” he says, so deadpan that Eddie can’t contain a snort. 

And then he realizes, and it’s enough to shock a low laugh out of him. 

“Oh, man, you are good.” Eddie twirls some of his hair around a finger, pulling it across his mouth, and shakes his head in a kind of awe. “Do you even realize you’re doing it?”

“. . . What?”

With effort, Eddie reaches the controls for the bed, slowly elevating his upper half, because it’s the closest he can get to turning to face the guy. “Deflecting. Not answering questions. Changing the subject. Call it what you will; as a practiced dissembler myself, I know it when I see it.” (. . . Eventually.)

Steve doesn’t answer right away. He looks down and plucks at his hospital gown as though only just noticing he’s wearing it, making a face. Careful and slow, he reaches for his own sides, feeling over where Eddie knows the bandages must be.

Watching, Eddie frowns. He wonders if the fever from the infection is spiking again, because Steve seems so distant all of a sudden. Should he call for a nurse or something?

Finally—“You guys needed that money more than I did, so don’t worry about it.”

The words come out sounding rushed and defensive, almost angry. Eddie doesn’t quite buy it, though. It’s like something is simmering underneath Steve’s skin, his whole body trembling as he continues.

“I gave it to you because I decided to,” Steve says. “It’s yours, end of story.”

“That’s. . . .” Eddie frowns, stomach plummeting. With Steve not looking at him, he can’t tell how he means it—and pity is better than feeling like a shitty person, but it isn’t great. “So. . . ." Mentally, he takes one step and there conclusions are. "So that was, what, charity? You heard about the Munsons’ terrible situation and decided to be the hero?”

This was why he had never intended to tell anyone, it had slipped out during Hellfire at the tail end of a long and horrible day. While at first Dustin caring so much had seemed touching, now occurs to him that maybe the kid just felt bad for him.

There’s a difference.

Poor Eddie Munson, in the sense of both luck and socio-economic status; it’s a shame about what’s left of his family. Better save those financially irresponsible incompetents from their problems, because no way Eddie the Freak can pay the bills when he can't even pass high school.

And shit, the idea stings more than it has any reason to, but what else is he supposed to think? What the hell other motivation could Steve Harrington have? If there’s anything Eddie has learned lately, it’s that Steve is a better person than he is. It’s not an accusation to call someone on their superiority when they clearly are better—

“No,” Steve insists, so forceful that it interrupts the runaway train of thought. His eyes finally snap up to Eddie’s. “What the hell, man, you think I care about that bullshit? Your uncle would’ve died without that money. I obviously didn’t die without it. I didn’t want to just let someone die, I’m not that guy anymore!”

. . . Anymore?

Steve’s eyes, Eddie realizes, are wide and fervent. Paladin, he remembers, and there’s that awful cockroach feeling again. Steve is breathing too fast. He looks like a little kid adrift alone at the county fair, trying to find his parents but scared he’s going to get in trouble for getting lost.

Eddie, his flash flood of self-conscious anger draining away as swiftly as it had come, has no idea what to do after stumbling onto a trauma land mine.Three years. Three years of this Upside Down shit and life-or-death responsibility on Steve's shoulders, and Eddie has already made a mess of things again in under three minutes.

#steddie blackmail fic #steddie fic #steddie #stranger things fic #eddie munson #steve harrington #steve 'i'm not that guy anymore' harrington #eddie 'what the fuck are you talking about steve you're not EXPLAINING anything' munson

[atmilliways]

Wrong On The Money (25)

part 25 of ?? | 653 words | Teen+

Blackmail fic on Ao3 | on tumblr

Summary:

“You had a really bad fever, you’ve been sleeping it off for a day and a half,” Lucas adds unprompted. Probably because Steve hasn’t asked. “The bites got infected. Fair warning, Robin is really mad at you for letting that happen.”

25.

The first person Steve sees upon waking is Lucas, bruised all to hell. 

“It’s okay,” Lucas says quickly, standing and moving closer. “Steve, it’s okay! Vecna’s dead. You’re in the hospital, everyone’s here, everyone’s fine.”

Steve looks to his left and sees Eddie, asleep in the next bed over. “Ed,” he mumbles with a sluggish tongue. 

Brown curls, denim, cigarette and weed smoke, Bambi eyes, tattoos, exaggerated movements, and big words. Red on Steve’s hands, the taste of blood. He isn’t supposed to be so still.

Lucas falters, then rallies. “He’s gonna be okay. You got him out, Dustin told me all about it.”

Reassured by those words (and the steady beep of machines from that side of the room), Steve looks back at Lucas. “Max?”

Piercing glares, skateboard wheels on concrete, and the threat of a lawyer that he knows is a bluff but caves to anyway. Hanging in the air above the cemetery, crying after she falls. If that monster crumpled her like tissue paper, it’ll break Steve too.

Wincing, Lucas tells him. About Max’s broken arm, and the fight with Jason, and Andy tackling Erica in the park across from the Creel house. About Dustin’s sprained ankle. About Mike coming back with the Byers boys and some guy named after a sweater pattern in a pizza van, and Joyce turning up with an emaciated Hopper and that sarcastic conspiracy dude a day later. 

He promises not to tell anyone that Steve cries at hearing Hopper is alive after all. 

“You had a really bad fever, you’ve been sleeping it off for a day and a half,” Lucas adds unprompted. Probably because Steve hasn’t asked. “The bites got infected. Fair warning, Robin is really mad at you for letting that happen.”

Day and a half my ass, Steve thinks, because despite all that sleep he feels exhausted. But everyone’s okay. . . . They even got someone back, and that’s a fucking first. 

“And I didn’t even have to get a concussion this time,” Steve says with a smile that falters just as much as Lucas’. He feels shaky, fragile, and hates it, because he doesn’t want to break in front of one of the kids. 

Lucas offers a strained grin. “Guess I inherited that along with your basketball skills.”

“No, seriously? You’re stealing that from me too, Sinclair? It’s like nothing is sacred anymore.” 

And he’s trying so hard, but he’s so tired. He’s trying to sound light but his voice breaks in the wrong direction when the inflection is supposed to come out light and a little sarcastic. 

“You okay?” Steve whispers around the lump in his throat. The answer is obvious, he has eyes, but he wants to give the kid the option of how seen he wants to feel. These kids never seem to get any choices in all this shit, beyond survive or don’t. 

Lucas spends a moment looking everywhere but at him, but then—“No.”

So Steve motions him over, does his best to give Lucas the kind of hug he always needed after everything was over, but never got until the third time around gave him Robin. Because he gets Lucas’ desire to fit in, to appease the popular crowd in the hopes of being allowed to just be—except it’s never enough, you either wake up and get out or stay in and lose sight of who you wanted to be in the first place, and at least Lucas handled that part better than Steve had. He gets the way Lucas worked so hard to protect Max and his sister, protect all the people in his life who matter, and mostly succeeded but came close enough to failure to fuel the nightmares. 

And he’s so, so proud of the kid for not trying to fake being fine now that it’s over, as though what happened didn’t still matter and what he’d done, what he’d sacrificed was nothing.

#steddie blackmail fic #steddie fic #steddie #stranger things fic #steve harrington #lucas sinclair #eddie munson

[atmilliways]

Wrong On The Money (24)

part 24 of ?? | 672 words | Teen+

Blackmail fic on Ao3 | on tumblr

Summary:

By the time Eddie wakes up, it’s not a private room anymore. He looks blearily over to his right, sees Steve lying still and quiet in a hospital bed of his own, and immediately tries to sit up. Wake up, I don’t like this.

24.

By the time Eddie wakes up, it’s not a private room anymore. He looks blearily over to his right, sees Steve lying still and quiet in a hospital bed of his own, and immediately tries to sit up. 

Wake up, I don’t like this. 

“Oh motherfucker,” Eddie groans at the immediate wildfire the motion starts through his core. He feels like he’s being split open down the middle. 

“Easy son, easy—” By the time Wayne’s intercepting hands reach him, Eddie is already falling back the inch or so he’d managed to rise with a pained whine. It’s jarring to see Wayne in a hospital setting again, but, well. Tables are pretty damn well turned now. And while the man looks stressed and worried, that's nothing to the gray, haggard ghost of himself that he'd been while sick.

It takes Eddie several minutes, a button that sends painkiller straight through his veins like a cold bath from the inside out, and a pitiful mouthful of ice chips to compose himself again.

“Steve,” he wheezes finally. “What happened?”

Wayne snorts. “Dumbassery.”

Eddie manages a weak smile. “Be more specific?”

“Looked like he got chewed on by the same thing that spit you out, only he didn’t get it looked at. Took the time to save your life first, though.” Taking the cup of ice chips away for later, Wayne sits back in his uncomfortable visitor's chair with a sigh. “The hell’d you get yourself mixed up in this time, Ed? First I come in here to find the Harrington boy watchin’ over you and you’re handcuffed to the bed. Then he keels over, and half an hour later Jim Hopper comes back from the dead to uncuff you and say the government’s covering all the medical bills.”

And the drugs might play a role here, but Eddie tells him. There’s no ‘you’re not gonna believe me,’ not with Wayne. 

He tells him everything. Chrissy, holding a broken bottle to Steve’s neck, the Upside Down and its monsters, everything. Even the blackmail part. Even though it takes him several tries over at least a whole day because he keeps drifting in and out, quality drugs and sheer exhaustion dragging him down into much needed rest.

When he’s done, Wayne regards him with a measured look—and in this case, the measuring cup is heaped full with are you fucking kidding me.

Eddie braces himself. (Mentally, anyway. Physically, he can't do shit.) The being gay, the dealing drugs, the murder charges—none of that did it, which is good, but he’s not entirely sure that Wayne won’t finally kick him to the curb for taking some poor guy’s wallet for a ride. Especially the guy who just saved his life, and who his uncle seems to have taken a liking to because of it.

“Son,” Wayne says, blunt as ever, “as soon as that boy is conscious again, you need to talk to him. You need to apologize.” There’s a long pause, and this is it, this is the part where Eddie is expecting to hear that next he should pack his bags— “And then tell him thank you.”

Another long pause. 

“Is that all?” Eddie asks weakly, because he has to be sure.

Wayne nods. “That’s plenty. Want a pen and paper to plan it out like one’a your game campaigns?”

On some level, Eddie recognizes that his uncle is making fun of him. On another . . . yeah, he actually kind of does, just to scribble out the jumble of thoughts in his head, not only about Steve but about everything. On every possible level, his eyes well up.

The sleep he’d gotten since almost dying was, perversely, the best he’d had in months. Since before Wayne had gotten sick, all the way through to the end of the worst Spring Break in the history of the world.Eddie chokes out a laugh as the first tears begin to fall, a comforting old hand finding its way to his shoulder as he has a long, long overdue breakdown.

#steddie blackmail fic #steddie fic #steddie #stranger things fic #eddie munson #steve harrington #wayne munson #good uncle wayne

[atmilliways]

Wrong On The Money (21-22)

part 21 & 22 of ?? | 691 words | Teen+

Blackmail fic on Ao3 | on tumblr

Summary:

“If things start to go south, I mean at all,” Steve had said, looking directly at Eddie, “you abort. Okay?” Things start to go south, and Eddie cuts the rope.

Two chapters today, partly because they're both pretty short but mostly because this is the bit where I get to be cruel, but not so cruel that I leave it like this for more than a day. (There will be a happy ending, I promise.)

21.

“If things start to go south, I mean at all,” Steve had said, looking directly at Eddie, “you abort. Okay?”

-

Things start to go south, and Eddie cuts the rope. 

-

“Draw the attention of the bats. Keep ‘em busy for a minute or two.”

-

It’s been longer than that. But if Eddie doesn’t draw them away from the gate then those things are going to get out and go for Dustin, too. 

Dustin, who is screaming at him not to go. Too late to turn back now, though. 

-

“Don’t try to be cute or be a hero or something. Okay? You guys are just decoys.”

-

Eddie slams out the trailer door and scrambled for the nearest bike, careful not to let the butt of his spear catch in the spokes as he gets it up and moving. This is the stupidest, most suicidally insane thing he’s ever done. 

-

“Absolutely,” Eddie had replied. “I mean, look at us. We are nooot heroes.”

-

He remembers those words as he pedals for his life. But that he remembers after he falls, and fails to run, and turns to face the gathering swarm, is Dustin. 

Dustin asking about Wayne every once in a while, all serious, but brightening whenever there was good news. 

Steve talking about Dustin being upset, with a twinge in his own voice that suggests Steve wanted to fix it for the kid. Can’t bring back a dead dad, but keep a friend’s uncle from dying? Sure.

Dustin wanting him to think that Steve is a good guy now, and not even being wrong. 

For that little butthead, Eddie braces the butt of his spear and raises the last remaining shield—the one Dustin had made. He faces the bats with a scream.

22.

“I mean, look at us. We are nooot heroes.”

-

Steve is dead tired. His neck hurts even more than after the bats, to the point where talking hurts a bit. He wants to lay down and sleep for a week somewhere bright and cool and clean—or, barring that, at least somewhere quiet. 

Nothing is quiet right now, because Dustin is screaming and Eddie isn’t moving and none of it’s and Steve has to fix it. 

-

“We are nooot heroes.”

-

CPR. He still remembers how, from lifeguard training. 

God, there’s so much blood. It’s all over Eddie’s face and gets in Steve’s mouth, the worst parody of a first kiss. 

-

“Nooot heroes.”

-

He can’t run well. Not weighed down with Eddie in his arms, after how he’s been thrown around tonight, on so little sleep for so many days. He tries anyway, careful not to stumble on vines or the bodies of fallen bats, because they need all the time they can get. Eddie needs bandages and new blood and probably stitches—needs a hospital. 

“Steve,” Dustin wails, limping behind him supported on either side from Robin and Nancy. “Steve, is he going t-to. . . .”

“He’s not,” Steve calls back, so firmly that he can feel Robin’s eyes on his back as though she can see and judge all his secrets. 

-

“I mean.”

-

Getting through the gate is agony because it takes so goddamn long. But Nancy is right, they can’t risk making Eddie’s injuries any worse. It has to be done carefully.

-

“Look at us.”

-

Steve floors the accelerator on the RV. Beside him Dustin curls up tight in the passenger seat, stripped of his bloodied ghillie suit down to a hoodie and jeans, favoring his injured leg. Poor kid looks like he’s still trying to catch his breath. 

Eddie is laid out in the back with his belly and side chewed open all the way up to his left cheek while the girls try and apply tourniquets as best they can. 

This is Barb all over again. Not the blood, just—Eddie could go at any moment, and there’s nothing any of them would be able to do about it. 

The tremors in Steve’s hands are disguised by his tight grip on the wheel. He doesn’t tell anyone; no one else can drive this fucking boat, and if they’re not driving then Eddie dies. Steve can’t handle any more death on his hands. 

-

“We are nooot heroes.”

#angst with a happy ending #steddie blackmail fic #steddie #steddie fic #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson #dustin henderson #steve harrington #robin buckley #nancy wheeler #(the memory of) barbara holland

[atmilliways]

Wrong On The Money (20)

part 20 of ?? | 514 words | Teen+

Blackmail fic on Ao3 | on tumblr

Summary:

Eddie is still trying to scrape his jaw off the floor of the RV when Robin pokes her head in.

20.

Eddie is still trying to scrape his jaw off the floor of the RV when Robin pokes her head in. (The least of it all is that he can check off that one resolution about Dustin that he’d noted in triplicate.)

“Steve told me to check on you,” she offers, cautious and suspicious in a way that suggests she has no idea why. (At least there’s that.)

“Ain’t he a peach,” Eddie mutters. (He kind of is. That’s the problem.)

“Yeah. So. . . .” Robin inches her way up the stairs. “What’s up, kittypup?”

He snorts, and hops up to sit on the kitchenette table properly. “Oh, you know. Just riding the waves of some pretty damn earth shattering revelations about Steeeeve Harrington.”

Robin doesn’t even attempt to hide her smirk and ventures a little further inside the RV. “Been there. He has a lot more layers than you’d think after being around for his King Steve era.”

“Right?” Eddie sighs. “Rich parents, popular, chicks love him—not a douche?” He shakes his head, waves his hands as though clearing his own words from the air. “No way, man. No way. That flies in the face of all the laws in the universe.”

Also his own personal Munson doctrine, but he’s already torn that to shreds on his own time and doesn’t like to think about it.

The thing is, the more he gets to know Robin, the more certain he is that she would rip him to pieces if she knew what he’s done. Which sucks, because he also has a growing suspicion there’s more than one reason she wouldn’t care that Steve was at a gay bar, and . . . he just didn’t know that there were other queers in Hawkins. He would have loved to know that, to feel a little bit less like a freak burrowing into even the outcast fringes of society. If he’d run into Steve inside the club, already drunk, he would’ve happily danced with him and saved the double-take for the morning.

“I should go,” he says abruptly, hopping down from the table. “See if Dustin wants to practice with our new gear and shit.”

“Sure,” Robin agrees with a shrug, turning and leading the way back out. “And hey—as a fellow newbie to this group, I’m here if you do need to freak about all this shit, okay? If it’s in there, definitely best to get it out of your system sooner rather than later.”

It’s not what she’s talking about, but Eddie almost wants to say something. He’s not sure what, but something. Ask her if she’s a friend of Dorothy, maybe. It lodges in his throat like a stone, though, and when he swallows it settles heavy in his stomach.

If he’s learned anything about himself recently, it’s that he’s no hero outside of D&D. He sees danger, and he turns heel to run.

So he says, “No, I’m good,” and trots off to find Dustin, trying to ignore the feeling of Robin’s eyes on his back as though she can see and judge all his secrets.

#steddie blackmail fic #steddie #steddie fic #stranger things fic #eddie munson #robin buckley

[atmilliways]

Wrong On The Money (18)

part 18 of ?? | 493 words | Teen+

Blackmail fic on Ao3 | on tumblr

Summary:

The amazing thing is that, despite half his brain being completely on fire with what he’s dubbed the Harrington Problem, Eddie still makes his shield and horses around with Dustin in a field in the middle of nowhere like everything is fine. 

Not sure I'm happy with the formatting on this one, but here's the Eddie vibe I was going for with it:

18.

The amazing thing is that, despite half his brain being completely on fire with what he’s dubbed the Harrington Problem, Eddie still makes his shield and horses around with Dustin in a field in the middle of nowhere like everything is fine. 

-

“There will be no more retreating! From Eddie the Banished.”

-

He even manages to have some fun with it. But the entire time, his mind is racing. Like a duck, or an iceberg about to menace the Titanic. 

He’d checked with Robin since the War Zone and been assured within an inch of his life that they are capital-P Platonic.

Fact: Steve had just let him blackmail him for no reason. 

-

“Never change, Dustin Henderson. Promise me?”

-

And while Dustin might be messing with him for the sake of his little ‘everybody should like Steve’ campaign, and Lucas might have gone along with it out of revenge for getting cut out of the last Hellfire session, Erica has no such allegiances.

The girl is vicious in her description of the guy’s financial shortcoming. Her brief tirade is softened only by a sniff and the small concession that at least Steve is saving up for a place on his own, instead of relying on his parents not charging him rent forever. 

And no, he also did not know that said parents were making him pay-to-own his precious Beemer. Or that Steve failed to negotiate for a reasonable payment plan to offset the basic living costs (like food) that they don’t cover. Jesus H. Christ.

Fact: Eddie blackmailing him is directly impacting Steve’s ability to get out from under the thumb of his own family. Which, rich parents can be assholes too, who knew. 

-

“Hey, Sinclairs! How are those, uh . . . those spears coming on?”

-

He looks over at Steve and Robin over by the RV, filling bottles with gasoline, and feels guilt flutter hotly in his gut. For all the bills that Steve had forked over, he hadn’t griped about it once. Every hit Eddie has seen him take, financial or physical, he’s absorbed like a goddamn sponge and then carried on with whatever he’s doing like a goddamn tank.

Soon enough, the sun will go down and they’ll hit the road for the Creel house, bound for whatever other hits might come. 

Fact: Eddie has been punching down these past several months when he thought (or pretended, because the suspicion had always been there) he was punching up.

-

“Steve, a word in the RV?”

-

Eddie isn’t sure if he’s going to make it through the night. Everything is rigged against him. Even if he does survive the alternate dimension nastiness, there’s still the real word murder charges to his name. He might never get a chance to explain what happened to Wayne, who's probably disappointed in him for getting dragged into it at all.

Fact: with all the shitty karma to his name lately, he isn’t sure he deserves to make it.

#steddie blackmail fic #steddie #steddie fic #stranger things fic #eddie munson #steve harringto #dustin henderson #lucas sinclair #erica sinclair #robin buckley

[atmilliways]

Wrong On The Money (17)

part 17 of ?? | 760 words | Teen+

Blackmail fic on Ao3 | on tumblr

Summary:

“Where’d you learn how to do this?” Steve asks, and Eddie answers the question while wondering, Why the hell do you want to know?

17.

There isn’t a lot of time to think for a while. All of them crash in Max’s trailer, away from the windows while they rest, in case the police roll by looking. There’s talking and drawing up battle plans, and crawling through an RV window for his time to shine.

“Where’d you learn how to do this?” Steve asks, and Eddie answers the question while wondering, Why the hell do you want to know?

It all makes his head spin, makes him feel manic and unhinged and wanting to push it just to find out where the boundaries are. He flirts, and for some reason Steve’s reaction is confused when it should by all rights be venomous.

He has some time to himself on the drive to the War Zone. No one interrupts him from zoning out and going back over the past few days. Over the times Steve has gone out of his way to help explain what’s going on, because everyone else goes a mile a minute and is used to this shit, apparently. But the former King of Hawkins High seems to have an eye for when Eddie is foundering and needs a refresher, like whenever anyone talks about some girl named El.

“Everything was way easier. . . . We had this girl. She had superpowers—”

“Superpowers. Yeah, you mentioned her.”

No matter how many times he goes over it, Eddie doesn’t see how it makes any sense. Unless Steve is trying to unsettle him by contrasting how much easier things used to be, and without said powers they are totally screwed? But . . . no, Mr. Team Player wouldn’t do that and risk freaking everyone else out too. Probably. Eddie wants to scream. 

He’s not even going to touch the fact that he’s thinking of him as Steve instead of Harrington now. 

As soon as everyone but Eddie, Dustin, and Lucas has unloaded from the RV for a firearms and bludgeoning object shopping spree, Dustin turns to him. “So you agree now, right?”

This kid. Eddie rubs at his temples, trying to stave off a headache that’s already well set in. “Dude, I’m having a really long weekend. What the fuck are you talking about?”

“About Steve,” Dustin replies, full of freshman boy exasperation and earnestness. “He’s a badass. You agree now, right?”

Somehow, Eddie had thought he would be spared the ‘Steve’s so great, Steve’s so awesome’ talks now that he's trapped in this utterly insane evil apocalypse situation with the guy. But no. He had overestimated Dustin.

“Yeah, well,” Eddie snaps, already wound up tighter than he ever knew he could be and falling back to reflex. “I’m sure it’s real easy to be badass when you know you have daddy’s money to fall back on.”

It’s not the first time he’s said something like that about the rich, popular, snobby crowd. Jeff, Gareth, and Frank all would’ve laughed. But Lucas’s head shoots up across the RV, and Dustin’s face twists up in a weird mixture of disappointment and borderline disgust. 

“Not cool, man.” Dustin puts his hands on his hips—and oh god, Eddie had seen Steve hit that same pose back at Skull Rock. “And you know that Steve’s asshole dad cut him off after he graduated, right?”

Eddie just. Stops. 

Because . . . that can’t be true. 

Steve Harrington wouldn’t let anyone blackmail him with a useless threat for money he doesn’t even have. Even if it were somehow true, you can’t get water out of a stone and you can’t get that much cash out of a guy subsisting on a job at the Family fucking Video. By process of elimination, it’s impossible. 

Right?

He looks at Lucas, who nods in confirmation. “It’s true. That’s why Steve worked at Scoops Ahoy until the mall attack, to like—” the boy does air quotes “—learn some responsibility.”

Some responsibility. Steve, the guy who had been keeping monsters from killing a small group of young nerds for the past two years. Jesus H. Christ. The spring winches even tighter, until something goes twang.

Filing ‘the attack’ away instead of ‘the fire’ for later consideration and hyperventilating, Eddie’s wide eyes snap back to Dustin. The kid scowls back, waiting for an answer.

“How,” Eddie says, sounding like air leaking out of a goddamn balloon, “the fuck would I know that, Henderson?”

This is it, the straw that broke the camel’s back. Dark wizards and death curses and the Vale of Shadows he can handle, but known quantity Steve Harrington turning out to be a complete fucking conundrum is just too much.

#steddie blackmail fic #steddie fic #steddie #stranger things fic #eddie munson #dustin henderson #lucas sinclair #so basically everything in this fic (except vecna) is dustin's fault

[atmilliways]

Wrong On The Money (15)

part 15 of ?? | 637 words | Teen+

Blackmail fic on Ao3 | on tumblr

Summary:

For the most part, Steve tries not to lie to Robin about why he never has money anymore. . . . But he doesn’t go on many dates anymore because dates cost money, and he lies his ass off about that.

15.

For the most part, Steve tries not to lie to Robin about why he never has money anymore. He’s still paying his parents off for the car: true, because any dips in the payment plan will prove that he’s not ‘responsible enough’ for a car and they might take it away. He’s trying to save up to move out: kind of true, in that he has an emergency savings account that he puts a couple dollars into every week and never, ever withdraws from. He’s trying to watch what he eats: true, just not in the way that casually saying it usually implies.

But he doesn’t go on many dates anymore because dates cost money, and he lies his ass off about that.

“She’s chewing bubble gum,” he mumbles about one of the girls that Robin points out. The girl keeps eyeing him from around a cardboard cutout of Arnold Schwarzenegger; it's not subtle. “I can’t go out with a girl who chews bubble gum. One bubble pops wrong on a windy day and bam, it’s in my hair. That’s nightmare material right there, Robs.”

Or, “Yeah, I heard her laughing with her friends earlier and I’m pretty sure giggles that high-pitched could shatter glass. Thanks, but no thanks.”

Or (and he’s not proud of this), a hissed, “If you think she’s so cute, why don’t you ask her out?” Robin doesn’t talk to him for an hour after that one, until Steve gives her the apple from his lunch. Even though the apple was his lunch.

Suffice it to say, Steve’s dating life is hooked up to a ventilator and the doctors are thiiiiiis close to pulling the plug.

“So,” Robin says the morning after the championship game, leaning against the counter next to him during the dullest part of a dull shift. “How was . . . I want to say Belinda?”

“Brenda,” Steve corrects, and sighs. “I don’t know. First thing she said when we got to the gym felt like a shot at how I never got the team to the playoffs, so. Not feeling great about that.”

“Not feeling great about Brenda,” Robin reflects, nodding. 

The nod continues long past her words, like one Dustin's perpetual motion doohickeys. Her eyes flick over to meet his, calm but concerned. 

“Are you sure you’re okay, Steve?” she asks gently. “You kinda seem like you’ve been phoning it in for a while now. And I’m not saying that because you’re supposed to perform to a certain standard or whatever, just . . . it seems like you’re kind of giving up on things, a little bit, and I’m worried that maybe there’s a reason. And if there is, I want to help, okay? Not that you have to tell me or anything, but I’m here if you want to.”

Steve takes a deep breath. 

What if he told her some of it? About how his TBD situation is a little less TB and a little more D these days. (Ha.)

No specifics. This doesn’t need to be a full on ‘I wanted Tammy Thompson to look at me’ confession. He’s not sure if he wants Eddie to look at him like that—if Eddie is willing to blackmail him, he probably hates his guts, right? But Steve wants to look at Eddie, sometimes. (Last night, when he’d made a final payment, fingertips brushing against Eddie’s warm palm during the hand-off behind the gym.) And has dreams about his hands, and eyeliner smudged around his waterline to make his big brown eyes positively huge, sometimes. Whatever all that means, he still needs time to sort things out in his head. 

He opens his mouth to try and say something—

—And Dustin bursts into the store with Max in tow, demanding to know if they’ve seen the news and how many phones they have.

#steddie blackmail fic #steddie #steddie fic #stranger things fic #steve harrington #robin buckley