#steddiemicroficseptember

[wynnyfryd]

the kind of charm we need

written for @steddiemicrofic september prompt ‘charm’ + 548 words | rated T | pre-relationship, fluff, flirting, boys being dumb

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“‘Not the kind of charm we need,’” Steve mutters derisively to himself for the tenth time that day as they pull up to the cemetery curb.

“Yeah, yeah,” Dustin sighs, “your time and talents are sooo wasted on us, Steve, we get it.”

Max glares at him from the rearview like she agrees with Dustin, then shoves out of the backseat and slams the door shut behind her without a word.

Shit.

Steve watches her climb the hill, guilt rolling through his guts. Fuckin’ Nancy. There are bigger problems here.

Like, for example, the metalhead fugitive having a nervous breakdown in a boathouse.

“Oh, my god,” Lucas says from the backseat as the walkie crackles to life, Eddie’s quivering voice calling out for ‘Dustin? Anybody? Hello??’

He passes the walkie up to the front with a look like he’s debating whether or not to just smash the thing to pieces on the asphalt instead. “Can you maybe use your charm on Eddie before I murder him?”

“He’s in distress!” Dustin cries.

“He’s on my last nerve!”

“Seriously, anybody?? Please!”

“Oh, Jesus Christ, give me that.” Steve yanks the walkie out of Lucas’ hand, hauls himself out of the car — leans in to tell the two shitheads to stay put and shut up before he closes the door.

He leans against the driver’s side, head throbbing, body sore. Can’t tell if he’s too young or too old for this shit. He pushes the talk button with a begrudgingly slow press.

“Steve Harrington’s babysitting and distraction service, how may I help you? Over.”

“Stevie!” Eddie whoops, sounding genuinely thrilled to hear Steve’s voice. Steve knows he’s just excited to hear anyone’s voice, but. Hm. “Goddamn am I glad to- wait, where’s Henderson? Sinclair? Are they—?”

“They’re fine,” Steve assures before the creep of hysteria he hears can fully take hold. He kicks his heel against the front tire. “They’re waiting in the car. I’ve been instructed to, like, charm you into calming down, or whatever.”

“Charm me?” Eddie’s voice lilts with interest. Steve can almost see the smile, the way he licks across his front teeth.

“Just a— well, not a joke, but, like…” Steve trails off, gives up trying to explain. Nance has this way of making comments that cling like cactus spines. “Never mind.”

“No, no,” Eddie says. “Go on. I’m ready to be charmed.”

And maybe it’s the way Eddie says charmed like a snake scenting the air, or maybe it’s the stress of the day; maybe he’s finally having his own little mental breakdown as a treat, because for some insane reason he leans into whatever this is, pitches his voice all low and slippery and asks, “What are you wearing?”

Silence for a moment, and then Eddie cackles, the noise so loud it overwhelms the little speaker in the walkie, bursts of laughter breaking through the static noise. Steve finds himself laughing, too, a slow thing that builds and builds, swells inside him like blown glass until he’s warm and bright all over.

“Jesus,” Eddie breathes when he finally calms. “You’re— you’re ridiculous. Shit, man, I really needed that, you have no idea.”

Steve smiles to himself. Bites the inside of his cheek. Not the kind of charm we need.

No, but someone might.

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note: i am aware that this is canon adjacent (which is to say that i meant for it to take place in canon but i didn’t feel like rewatching the scene for total accuracy so like, canon can bite me it’s close enough)

[augustjustice]

The Ole Harrington Charm

AO3 Link

For @steddiemicrofic | Prompt: charm | Word Count: 548 | Rating: G | CW: none | Tags: flirting, getting together

Steve is in a dry spell.

Well…okay, it’s technically not a dry spell. He’s going on plenty of dates, he just–can’t seem to find that special spark that tells him this is the one. 

Steve’s starting to question if he’s off his game, or something. If his flirting is to blame, that might explain why things are all downhill from there. 

“I mean…what do you guys think?” he asks Robin–and Eddie, currently loitering around on a surprisingly slow Thursday afternoon at Family Video. “Is there something I’m doing that’s just–not working?” 

“As someone who was there to witness the millions of times you struck out at Scoops, I can definitely say that what you’re doing now is leagues ahead of whatever that was.”

Steve huffs. “It was not millions, Robin. And, yeah, sure, okay, but if I’m so much better now…why doesn’t it ever work out past the first date?” 

Eddie slaps an uneven rhythm on the counter, pushing up from where he’d been slouching against it. There’s a challenging gleam in his eye, the same kind he gets when he’s struck with an idea for one of his campaigns. 

“Alright, big boy. Lay it on me.” 

“What?” 

“Come on, wow me with those irresistible flirtation skills that had the ladies lining up for you back in school, and I’ll tell you how you do.” 

What’s he got to lose?

Steve decides to lay it on thick. Might as well pull out all the stops, and besides…Eddie always hams it up when he’s pretending to flirt with Steve. Turning around is fairplay, or however it goes. 

Leaning a casual elbow on the counter, Steve turns his most charming smile on Eddie.

“Hi, there. I don’t think I’ve seen you around here before. And I would absolutely remember a face like yours.” Shooting Eddie a wink, he reaches out and tugs at his battle vest, brushing his fingers against Eddie’s chest while he gets a “better look” at his pins and patches. ”Judas Priest, huh? Not sure I’ve heard their stuff.” 

Maybe not the best tactic with Eddie, but that’s what he would do usually, bring up something the other person seemed interested in. Long gone were the King Steve days of ‘act like you don’t care.’ 

”Why don’t you tell me about them while I help you find what you’re looking for. You look like a horror section guy to me. And, you know, scary movies make a great pick for date night. Perfect to snuggle up to.”

“Lame,” Robin declares. “And cliche.” 

“No one asked you, Robin,” Steve rolls his eyes, “Eddie’s the judge here.”

Only then does he realize Eddie is frozen in place, a faint pink tinging his cheeks. 

“Nuh–” Eddie swallows, his voice cracking in the middle of whatever he was trying to say. “No, man, the, uh…Harrington charm is definitely not on the fritz. You’ve got nothing to worry about there.” 

“Cool,” Steve brightens, before adding smoothly, “So, Saturday, horror movie, your place?”

“Good one, Harrington.” 

“Eds,” Steve reaches out, covering Eddie’s hand, “I’m serious.”

“Saturday night, huh? Alright, Stevie, you’re on. It’s a date.”  

They’re both grinning dopily when Steve does a celebratory fist pump, not bothering to hide it. Shaking her head, Robin laughs.

Oh, yeah. He’s definitely still got it.

[marvel-ous-m]

Charmed by Your Memory

written for ‘charm’ wc: 548 | rated: G | cw: N/A

A/N: Another great prompt by @steddiemicrofic! I had so much fun writing this one. I hope y'all enjoy!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When Steve is ten, he meets a boy with no hair in the woods behind his house. The boy is visiting for the summer. He says he has to go back to his parent’s house in two weeks, but he suggests that they pretend to be knights on a quest to save a stolen prince. They play until the sun sets and the boy has to go back to his uncle’s house.

They spend every day like that, and Steve finds himself becoming best friends with “Edward the Brave”. They spin stories that, in retrospect, could rival the fantasy novels that Steve has read since their time together. (Read in an effort to find something that will make him feel the way that he did all those years ago- but all he gets is a parasitic loneliness that grows each time it’s fed by the false hope that builds when Steve tries to recreate those days.)

It’s the best two weeks of his life. On the day Edward has to go home, Steve searches his house for a gift, something to help Edward the Brave remember their time together. He finds it, something perfect in his mother’s jewelry box, and packs it away for later.

Edward meets him at the usual spot. There’s a gloom hanging in the air- something that neither one wants to acknowledge. Finally, after a moment of quiet, Edward pronounces that it’s finally time to save the prince. Steve drops the picnic basket and they run through the forest, whacking bushes dragons with their sticks swords. They end up in a clearing, and Edward quietly whispers for Steve to pretend to be the cursed prince so Edward the Brave can save him.

Steve lays in the grass and closes his eyes. The prince had been cursed to sleep forever, after all. The only thing that could save him was-

-True love’s kiss.

Edward the Brave is kneeling over Steve, their faces mere inches from each other. Steve opens his eyes quick enough to see Edward press a chaste kiss to Steve’s lips. Edward is blushing, and Steve thinks he might be, too. Steve smiles. “You saved me.”

Edward grins back.

They share a lunch of PB&J sandwiches, chips, and soda that Steve smuggled out of his house. The sun disappears behind the trees, and just before Edward has to leave, Steve gives him the treasure he’d stolen from his mother that morning- a silver bracelet with a small key charm. He then reveals a silver chain around his neck, where he’d strung the lock charm that had once hung alongside the key. “So we’ll always be together.”

Edward hugs him goodbye, delicately puts the bracelet on, then leaves with tears in his eyes. Steve resigns himself to never seeing Edward the Brave again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Eddie the Banished is kneeling over Steve, their faces mere inches from each other. He holds a broken bottle to Steve’s neck. Eddie’s arm is angled just so- and Steve sees the charm bracelet. Steve reaches a shaking hand around his neck and pulls on the chain he keeps there, revealing the matching lock charm.

Eddie freezes. He lowers the bottle and reaches up to hold the lock charm in his hand. Finally, Eddie’s tear-filled eyes meet Steve’s. “You saved me.”

[matchingbatbites]

drag me under

Written for the @steddiemicrofic challenge prompt charm.

Word count: 548 | Rating: T | CW: creature!Eddie, possessive behavior, compulsion, ambiguous ending

I have written absolutely nothing in like. A solid two weeks. And then @sentient-trash mentions swamp monster Eddie, which makes me think of lake creature Eddie, and somewhere around working I actually managed to write something. So, thanks Simon. <3

Eddie's beloved is perfect. 

The human has been coming to the lakeside for years, and Eddie's been watching him for just as long, has seen how the sunsets make his skin glow and marveled at the way the moonshine turns his hair to strands of starlight. He's witnessed innumerable smiles and lilting words, none ever aimed at Eddie himself, and yet the boy charmed him regardless, he wrapped the creature around his finger simply by existing.

He brings with him waifish, ungrateful girls, ones who don't appreciate Eddie's beloved the way he does. It pleases him to see that they rarely repeat more than once or twice; each time his sweetheart returns he seems to have a new one with him, yet none who hold any true affection for him, who use him for their own gain before moving on.

There's a long stretch of time where it's the same girl, over and over, his darling always looking at her like she's something special. It makes jealousy curl in his stomach, bright and acidic; makes him want to pull the wretch into his lake, to drag her down so she'll never see the light of day again.

So Eddie's love understands exactly who he belongs to.

One night, unexpectedly, Eddie's beloved arrives alone. 

He shows up with his pretty face bruised and bloodied, and Eddie is instantly worried, finds himself swimming closer to the edge of the water, needing to assure himself that his sweetheart is okay.

The moonlight reflecting from the surface makes his darling look otherworldly, like he's something closer to Eddie's kind than the human he actually is. The desire to be nearer to him swells and crests, and Eddie needs him closer.

He starts with a hum, something gentle that floats over the top of the water and finds its way to the boy. Beautiful, warm eyes turn to find the source, and Eddie sings louder, the soft melody becoming words, and he can see the way his shoulders tense before they drop, slowing relaxing as he hears Eddie's call. 

The human walks over, the expression on his face dream-like as he steps into the water, as he wades in until he's submerged up to his chest. Only then does Eddie move closer. 

The world shakes as the creature touches him for the first time, as he cradles that beautiful, broken face in his hands.

"Oh you sweet, pretty thing. Who hurt you, darling?"

It takes the boy a moment to process, he blinks like he's fighting sleep and mutters "Billy. Was protecting the kids, needed to keep them safe."

So selfless is Eddie's beloved, the protector, the caretaker. 

He's going to get himself killed, and the creature can't stand for that.

"I'm sure you did well, sweetheart, but it's time to rest now, yeah?"

He blinks, confused. "Rest?"

"Yes, darling." 

Eddie leans in and presses their mouths together like he's watched the boy do dozens of times, and suddenly understands why the humans enjoy it, the tender intimacy of it. His darling looks dazed when Eddie pulls away, and doesn't fight when his hands are taken in two chilly, clawed ones. He follows dutifully as Eddie begins to step back, guiding them deeper into the water. 

"Just let me take care of you."

[atmilliways]

Swept Off His Feet

@steddiemicrofic

written for ‘Charm’ | wc: 548 | rated: T

Eddie has been waiting for the infamous Harrington charm. Nancy had warned him about it, even; she’d said that Steve laid it on a little thick sometimes, but that his heart was in the right place. He’s been waiting for held doors and dorky ‘allow me’s and bouquets of flowers or whatever, all the normie heterosexual stuff that he’s rolled his eyes through at the movies. 

And because it’s Steve, Eddie has sworn to himself that he won’t roll his eyes at any of it.

Except it never comes. Steve is just Steve, a little goofy and a little vain about his hair and very physically affectionate. Eddie has never been cuddled up to this much in his life, and he tries to show his appreciation of that as much as possible.

He jumps out of whichever car they’re in first as soon on as it’s in park, loping around to Steve’s door and bowing him out of the vehicle in the King-Steve-and-court-jester but that makes Steve roll his eyes and put his hands on his hips and try to hide a grin.

He comes up behind Steve when he’s cooking (careful to time it so that nothing will spill) and catches him around the middle, lifting and spinning and showing off muscles he has from lugging around amps and shit for years, and Steve always yells and slaps at him and kisses him hard after. 

He sleuths out Steve’s favorite color and turns up one day with a bunch of seed packets mixed into one mystery baggie, and they spend the entire afternoon up to their elbows in pots and dirt planting them. Steve calls him all excited when the first shoots start to emerge. Weeks later, when they bloom into bunches of bright yellows and oranges, Steve drags him in from the front door by a handful of faded band tee and does wonderfully dirty things with his mouth right there in the entryway. 

He even buys Steve tickets to a basketball game in Chicago (Wayne helped with that one). They say money can’t buy happiness, but government hush money sure as hell bought him those tickets, all kinds of stadium refreshments, and a ridiculous foam finger that Steve doesn’t take off until they get back to the van and wait out the post-game traffic in the back. 

“You know,” Eddie says to Nancy at one point, “it’s weird. Steve is great, but he’s never tried to, like . . . woo me or whatever.”

Nancy, who has become to him what Robin is to Steve, looks over with a wry smile and then goes back to watching the rest of the older Party members’ antics in the pool. There’s an epic game of chicken that’s about to break the five minute mark, with Steve on Argyle’s shoulders and Robin on Jonathan’s and more ridiculous shit-talking than actual fighting.

“I guess you beat him to it,” she says lightly. “It’s good though, I don’t think I’ve ever seen him this happy.”

And when Eddie thinks back over everything, he realizes that . . . yeah, he has, hasn’t he? He’s opened doors for Steve and given him flowers and swept him off his feet, and never once felt like rolling his eyes at any of it.

[steventhusiast]

once again so late to the party, but yippee @steddiemicrofic time!

prompt: charm | wc: 548 | rated: G | cw: implied homophobia | tags: teacher au, vaguely modern?, established relationship

-

“Knock knock.”

Steve looks over from where he’s writing a task on the board to see Eddie leaning against the doorframe, one hand poised to knock midair and one held behind his back. His presence brings an involuntary smile to Steve’s face, which he tries to hide by biting his lip. (Judging from the giggles he hears from the kids in the front row, he fails.)

“Alright, class. I’m going to trust that you’ll get started while I talk to Mr Munson, okay?” He says, and all the kids nod obediently (even though he knows they'll probably ignore that).

“Yes, Mr H.”

He walks over to Eddie, who hasn't moved from the doorway.

“What’s up?” He grins at his boyfriend, consciously trying to keep a respectable distance between them.

There’s not a rule against them dating, per say, but it’s definitely frowned upon by some teachers, and some parents would riot if they found out. So they at least try to be subtle about things.

“Okay, so, you know how you're nervous about your peer observation this afternoon?” Eddie asks, and then before Steve can answer he brings the hand he’s been hiding out to reveal a plushie.

Okay, correction. Steve tries to be subtle about things.

It’s a small teddy bear with fluffy-looking brown fur. In its hand it holds an oversized four-leaf clover, with the words “good luck stevie” stitched messily onto it. There’s also a pink heart patch on its face. It’s cute, and Steve hides his smile with a hand as he glances back up at Eddie.

He almost wants to be mad, because Eddie agreed to be more subtle at school after a glare at their hand-holding from Mrs Lawson a few weeks ago. (Mrs Lawson happens to be the teacher who’s doing his peer observation.)

But he can’t. Not when the expression on Eddie’s face is so proud, and his eyes are so loving.

“What's this?” He asks.

“A good luck charm! Duh!” Eddie says as he holds the teddy out. Steve rolls his eyes, and takes the offered gift.

“Shouldn’t you get back to your class, Mr Munson? Don’t even want to think about what Mike’s up to without you there.” He says after a moment, hoping Eddie can hear the thank you, I love you hidden behind his words.

Eddie nods with a grin, and promptly leaves to go back to wrangling his own class of terrors. Steve lingers in the doorway, thumb brushing over the teddy’s fur as he smiles down at it, and then turns back to his class.

They’re all grinning at him, mischief in their eyes. Not one of them have opened their workbooks.

“Mr Harrington and Mr Munson, sitting in a tree. K-I-S-S-I-N-G.” Dustin starts singing as Steve brings the bear over to his desk. He ignores his flushed cheeks to narrow his eyes at the twelve-year-old.

“Do you want me to give you an F on the next test?” He asks. There’s no heat behind his words and Dustin knows it. The kid grins at him, the picture of innocence.

“First comes love-” Dustin continues, but Steve holds a hand up.

“Shut it, Henderson.” He grumbles.All his kids giggle, and he looks back down to the bear. A good luck charm. How cute.

[dragonmama76]

All's Faire in Love

Written for 'charm' @steddiemicrofic | Word count: 548 | Rating: G  | CW: none

“Robin,” Steve grumbled, “When you said you wanted to go to a fair this is not what I expected. I was thinking rollercoasters and cotton candy?”

“I definitely told you it was a Renaissance Fair. Eat your turkey leg like a good barbarian so we can check out the vendors.” Robin continued.

“You didn’t tell me what a Renaissance Fair was,” he muttered. “Where are Eddie and Nancy anyway?” Steve decided he’d rather ditch the greasy turkey and tossed it as they passed a trash can. He had agreed to come hoping to spend the day with Eddie, maybe garnering the courage to hold his hand or something but the man had disappeared into the crowd while Steve was ordering his overpriced food.

“They’re saving seats for the joust!” Robin replied over-enthusiastically. “You’ll love it, there’s lots of fighting. Did you know that jousting is actually the official sport of Maryland?”

“I….did not know that. But that sounds cool.” Steve resigned himself to an afternoon of people shouting, “Huzzah!” and allowed himself to be guided into a row of colorful stalls. Robin began shopping in earnest and Steve wandered around checking out some weaponry. This, at least, was interesting. Steve was so engrossed in conversation about the differences between a mace and a flail that he realized he had lost sight of Robin. Thanking the owner of the stall he moved back out into the crowd. As he stood looking a little lost, an older woman covered in colorful scarves waved to get his attention. She beckoned him over and as he approached she called out, “I sense you need some romantic advice. Come in and I’ll read your cards.” Steve rolled his eyes but Robin suddenly reappeared and insisted he go for it. “It’s on me,” she announced with a glint in her eye as she passed some cash over to the fortune-teller.

Steve sat down at the table and the woman began to lay down cards. “This first card represents you,” she began, “Death.” Steve frowned. “Not a literal death, dear, but a change. A change in the way you love, who you love or perhaps…how you love?” She avoided his gaze and flipped the next card. “This represents the object of your affections. The Hierophant. Upright this indicates someone traditional, but in this case it’s inverted and indicates someone unconventional who doesn’t strictly conform to society.” Steve couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face. “Finally this card represents your relationship and what path you should take.” She turned over the card and Steve snorted. “Yes, the Fool. Actually a very positive card which in this case indicates a new adventure. Be bold. Take risks and do not fear rejection.” Steve huffed out a breath. So he should make a move?

Before he left she pressed something into his hand. “What’s this?” he asked. “I can see you still need a push, so it’s a little love charm. Give it to the object of your affections and see what blooms.” Steve thanked her and exited the stall.

Later, watching the joust, Steve leaned over Eddie, and brushed his lips across his temple and handed him back the guitar pick. “I recognized you,” he whispered, “Next time just ask me out like a normal person.”

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

Love, oh love

Written for the @steddiemicrofic challenge, September 2023 edition. Third time IS the charm, I guess.

Prompt: charm, 548 words

Rated: M

CW: some sexual innuendo, excessive use of British English

Notes: Bitches be like "OMG, you can't make Steve use British slang, it ruins the viiibe!!!" - Me: Watch me! 😘

The first time it happens, they're on the sofa at Harrington Manor - Robin cuddled into Steve’s left side, Eddie not-quite tucked into his right. Some action flick from Family Video is running, not that Eddie is watching. Too preoccupied with how the lights bounce off that handsome face.

Steve gets up, pauses the movie. Robin glares as she slips off his shoulder. 

"Sorry," Steve mumbles. "Need to go to the loo." 

And then he's gone and Eddie … stares. 

"Did he … just say loo?"

Robin catches some popcorn with her mouth.

"Oh yeah, it's something he does. His nanny was British. Just ignore it, he's kind of self-conscious about it." 

Eddie gulps, ears prickling with heat. 

"He's fucking adorable is what he is." 

Robin gags and slaps him, and none of them loses another word about it. 

*

Eddie tries to ignore it, it's just ... not that easy. 

The closer they get, the more he notices. How Steve will sometimes … slip. 

Tell Eddie to keep his hands off the dough while they're wrapped around each other in the kitchen, it's for the biscuits.

Stir while half asleep in Eddie’s arms, mumbling about popping by the store tomorrow, because they're out of chips. 

It always happens when Steve's guard is down, when he feels safe. Safe with him. The thought makes warmth bloom in Eddie’s chest. 

*

And then he can't ignore it anymore. 

They're at the quarry, just the two of them. Spread out in the grass, gazing up at the dusk-streaked sky, sun dipping behind the trees.

"Hey," Steve murmurs against Eddie's shoulder, breath tickling his skin. "Can you get my jumper from the boot? It's getting cold." 

Eddie swallows around the beat of his own heart in his throat. "Yeah, sure." 

As he makes to get up, Steve turns his head and presses a sloppy kiss to the edge of his mouth. 

"Thanks, love." 

Eddie freezes. Not only because of the way the word comes out - all soft and long on the v-sound, the vowel more u than o. Also because it's the first time. 

Steve sees his expression - and his face morphs from lazy bliss to horror. 

"Oh shit," He shoots upright, hides his face between hunched knees. "This is so embarrassing." 

"Hey," Eddie is next to him in an instant, disentangles his hands from his hair. "Stevie, what is it?" 

Steve groans, looks up at him, face flushed all the way down to the moles on his neck. 

"I slipped. Didn’t want you to know." 

Eddie can't help it, he snorts a laugh. "Yeah well, you've been doing it for a while." 

Steve's eyes go wide with disbelief. "And you … you don't think it's stupid or-" 

"I think," Eddie grins, and grabs Steve’s face in both hands so that he can kiss the bridge of his nose. "It's completely and utterly charming. In fact, I want you to say it again." 

"... Jumper?" 

"No, baby. The other one." 

Eddie nips at a pink bottom lip and the word rushes out on a breathy moan. 

"L- love?" 

"Exactly." He pushes Steve to the ground, kissing down his jaw and neck. "Now … how about you take off these trousers … and I make you say it some more?"

[cranberrymoons]

i can take you higher

prompt: charm ✨ (@steddiemicrofic) word count: 548 rating: t tags: smoking, post S2, mild h/c, touch-starved steve title from seminal steve harrington identification song: "i'm on fire" by bruce springsteen

Behind Steve’s house is the woods, and behind that is a river, and on the other side of that there’s a quarry. 

When he was sixteen years old, they pulled a body out of the lake that sits at the bottom of it. It’s not really a lake, and the body wasn’t really a body after all, but he thinks sometimes that everything in his life hinged on that moment. A boy he didn’t know, and a body that wasn’t a body, and the river behind his house emptying into a lake that wasn’t a lake.

“I just wish there was a way to go back to before,” he’s saying, laying on the shore of the lake that isn’t a lake, passing a joint back and forth with the town drug dealer because– why not. “Like some sort of spell, or– or charm that could zap me back to when everything was normal.”

Eddie Munson. What Eddie Munson says, squinting at him through the dark as he exhales a hazy cloud of smoke, is:

“You’re a weird dude, Harrington. Anyone ever tell you that?”

Steve sighs, sitting up on his elbows to accept the joint. “Yeah. A few times.”

“And you’re high as hell right now, and you’re not making any sense.”

Again, “Yeah.” He inhales, holds it in for a beat, blows smoke up toward the stars. “Sorry.”

He wonders if he’ll ever stop apologizing, and then he wonders why he seems to do it so often. To Nancy, to Dustin, to Jonathan, and now, of all people, to–

Eddie snorts. “Don’t be,” he says. “I’m the one who got you high, remember?”

Steve feels something run through him, but his brain is too foggy to figure it out. He drops back to lay down again, and when he does, his head lands on Eddie’s stomach. Eddie makes a quiet sound, breath sucking in sharp, but then his hand settles on Steve’s head, threading through his hair, and it’s been… days? weeks? since anyone has touched him without their hand curled into a fist.

The air is cool, and Eddie’s hands are warm, and Steve lets his eyes fall shut; if he were less high than he is, he’d probably be embarrassed by the fact that his throat goes a little tight. 

“Anyway, I don’t think you need some sort of magic time travel spell,” Eddie says after a long moment, quiet voice cresting through the buzz in Steve’s brain. “Or– if you do, then so do I. But life doesn’t really work that way.”

Steve turns his head to stare up at him, and Eddie’s hand shifts with him, moving around to cradle the back of his skull. He smells good, too, like laundry and cigarettes and an underlying third thing that starts up an itch in the back of Steve’s skull and makes him want to reach out and taste, to see if his tongue can follow it over his skin and into his mouth.

“What do I need, then?” he asks, because the only other thing in his brain is hands and fingers and the warmth of another person’s body under his cheek. 

Eddie blinks at him, frowning slightly. “Time?” he suggests. “Maybe you just need time, and someone who will get you high.”

[also on ao3]

[steddieas-shegoes]

420

for the bonus round technically for @steddiemicrofic but also started as just @wynnyfryd's request for a shotgunning microfic with 420 words to celebrate us reaching 420 followers. it got silly. i'm not sorry. rated: M wc: 420 cw: drug use, drinking, shotgunning, steve is in outer space tags: getting together kind of bonus round prompt: “I have sleepy princess disorder. I have to lounge.”

Smoking weed was not a new concept for Steve.

Smoking while drunk, though, that was.

Robin was chaperoning, or at least trying to, but mostly failing.

Argyle and Jonathan were giggling in the corner.

Steve was in Eddie’s lap.

He didn’t remember how he got here anymore, just that Eddie had held the blunt to his lips and told him to breathe in, so he did.

The room was blurry, but only around the edges. Eddie was solid under him and in front of him.

He probably wasn’t even that affected by this shit.

“Doing okay, Stevie?” Eddie’s voice was soft, quiet, like he was keeping a secret.

“Mhm.”

His mouth was numb, or maybe his tongue? He couldn’t be sure, but he knew talking was hard.

He’d never drifted this far when he was high before.

“You wanna try something?” Eddie asked.

Steve blinked at him, knowing he needed to give an answer, but too lost in the way his eyes were glistening. Did they always do that?

“Stevie?”

“Hm?”

“You wanna try shotgunning?”

“Nancy has ‘em locked up, silly,” Steve giggled.

“No, sweetheart.” Sweetheart. “I’ll take a drag from this and blow it into your mouth. Secondhand smoke, but better.”

Eddie’s lips on his sounded great, actually.

“Yeah, okay.”

Steve’s mind was too cloudy to process Eddie’s next movements, especially when his hands left his hips (when had they even gotten there?) and didn’t even notice the small whine he let out at the loss.

“Sh. Just a second, Stevie.”

He could wait a second. For Eddie, he could do it.

A second was either really fast or really slow, but Eddie’s hand was touching his cheek, and the second didn’t really matter anymore.

His skin tingled under his touch.

And then his mouth was open, Eddie’s lips were against his, and he felt breath against his tongue.

“Close,” Eddie guided him, and Steve listened.

Steve could taste everything.

The weed, sure, but the aftertaste of Eddie’s last cigarette too, and whatever beer he’d been drinking before they started smoking.

Something just Eddie, too.

“Doing okay?”

Steve was laying down now, his head in Eddie’s lap. He was losing track of how he got in these positions, but it didn’t matter. Eddie would keep him safe.

“I have sleepy princess disorder. I have to lounge.”

Eddie’s laugh was loud, shaking Steve.

“Okay, princess.”

“Like that,” Steve said before closing his eyes.

“What?”

“You calling me nice things.”

Eddie’s lips touched Steve’s forehead, lingering for a moment.

“Okay, sweetheart.”

[aidaronan]

Summoned

For @steddiemicrofic's September prompt, Charm. Word count: 548 Rated G Tags & warnings: practical magic, kas!eddie, off screen mentions of death/loss

The charm was meant to protect Steve from having his heart broken. His mother and father had been so in love before the accident, before the Holloway Curse took Jonas Harrington and left his mother so broken it pretty much took her too.

"They'll play the guitar and collect Garfield mugs. Their favorite letter will be an M, and they'll be able to draw anything."

It was a new moon when Steve stood, twelve-years-old, in his aunt's greenhouse next to his cousin Dustin, intuitively plucking herbs and flower petals, dropping them into a small wooden bowl carved from cherry wood.

"They'll tell amazing stories. And they'll have a ton of mean-looking tattoos, but they'll actually be really nice."

Standing under a blanket of stars, a black cat weaving through his legs, Steve dumped the bowl into the wind.

"And they won't think so, but they'll be so brave."

"Sounds like a pretty tall order," Dustin said.

"That's the point, Dusty. If they don't exist, then I'll never fall in love."

It was late March, fifteen years later, when Dustin and Steve buried the body of Henry Creel under the rosebushes.

It was April when Eddie arrived, eyes red and claws sharp, looking for the master he could still feel calling to him through the ether.

"I think we need to activate the phone tree, Steve!"

Steve and Dustin crouched together in the kitchen, holding the door shut with their bodies while Eddie tried to get in.

So Steve called Nancy Wheeler, his past with her painful proof that his spell against love had never worked, Nancy saved from the curse only by never loving him back. (Tommy hadn't been so lucky, leaving Steve alone and heartbroken with two adopted daughters who were thankfully safe with their aunt.)

Nancy called Joyce who called Jonathan who called Will who called Lucas and… Within a half hour, the cavalry arrived at their doorstep, subduing Eddie with ropes kissed with hawthorn oil.

In a circle of broomsticks, Eddie growling and snarling in the corner, they banished Henry Creel's soul back to hell. In that moment, Eddie stopped fighting, red eyes fading to a brown so deep it was like looking into the soul of the Earth.

It happened slowly. First it was occasional visits to check on Eddie as he became human again.

It was listening to Eddie strum his acoustic out on Claudia's porch. It was Eddie being sucked into Dustin and the gang's games of D&D, mentioning he used to DM. It was walking by the sun room one afternoon while Eddie wove together the beginning of a campaign that had Steve pausing in his steps just to listen.

When the Garfield mug showed up during a game though, Dustin started to push.

"Why does your cousin keep trying to get us alone together?" Eddie asked. "And why are your daughters helping?"

"I…" Steve stared at the tattoos snaking up Eddie's arms, at the M-for-Metallica belt buckle on his waist, at the drawings scattered over the sun room table. "They think I summoned you here. I think I might have too."

Eddie stepped closer, touching Steve's cheek with the backs of his fingers. "That's a relief."

"Is it?"

"Yes. I can finally stop pretending I didn't wish for you too."

[estrellami-1]

Steddie Microfic

September prompt: charm

Word count: 548

No warnings apply

Rated G

@steddiemicrofic

This is Eddie’s third try.

That’s a sportsball thing, right? Three strikes and you’re out.

Eddie hopes he doesn’t strike out.

His first try had been completely abysmal, in which he’d walked into Family Video, promptly gotten flustered and nervous and tongue-tied, grabbed Rocky Horror Picture Show, and walked out after paying.

That wouldn’t have been as horrible as it actually was had he not already owned Rocky Horror Picture Show.

The second time was slightly better, if only because that time he’d actually managed to flirt a little.

He doesn’t entirely remember the exchange, is the thing. He knows it happened, and according to Robin he and Steve were flirting for roughly five minutes straight until another customer (“a real customer, Munson, as opposed to your freeloading ass,” Robin had teased) had walked in.

Eddie had walked out without renting anything, but that’s alright. Half the time he walks in, he walks back out empty-handed.

And, okay, maybe this being the third try is a slightly conservative answer.

He’d thought about it before, is the thing; thought about leaning over the island in Steve’s kitchen, kissing his pout as he’s focused on assembling sandwiches. He’d thought about reaching just that little bit more, “accidentally” past the popcorn bowl during movie night, brushing the backs of his fingers against the back of Steve’s hand.

He’d thought about truly terrible pick up lines—falling from heaven as an example—and swiping that little piece of hair off his forehead.

He’d thought about Steve’s reactions. How maybe he’d kiss back, maybe he’d twine their fingers together. Maybe he’d roll his eyes, blush.

Maybe he’d scoff, disgusted, and ignore Eddie.

Robin had tried to convince Eddie that wouldn’t happen, and he finally believes her, at least enough to take a leap of faith and try.

He walks into Family Video like he would any other day, making a beeline straight for the counter. “Robin,” he sings, gripping the edge and leaning over until his toes are scraping the ground. “‘S he here?”

“Depends,” she hums. “You gonna do it? Or chicken out again?”

Eddie collapses onto the counter with a groan. “You wound me, Buckley,” he says, before popping up when he hears Steve’s voice.

“Hey, Eddie!”

He looks around and spots Steve waving from his position in an aisle. He grins and makes his way over. “Stevie!” He says. “Your soulmate is being mean to me.”

Steve snorts and rolls his eyes. “Yeah, she’s mean to me, too.” Robin squawks, and Steve sticks his tongue out at her. Eddie’s in love.

“So, um.” He clears his throat, looks at the movies Steve is shelving. Rom-coms. “There’s-” he pauses, worrying at his bottom lip.

Steve looks at him, concerned. “Eds?”

“Just.” He squeezes his eyes shut. “I need you to not punch me if it’s not true, okay? I’d prefer you not hate me either but I’d understand if you did, if I were in your shoes I’d probably hate me, but just. You- please don’t tell anyone.”

Steve’s brows furrow. “You’re started to scare me, Eds.”

“Fuck,” Eddie mutters. “Sorry, just. I’m not good at this.” He takes a breath. “Um. Would you like to go on a date with me?”

Steve grins. “I’d love to.”

Turns out, third time’s the charm.

[zombiethingy]

And the winner is...

Written for the @steddiemicrofic prompt ‘charm’ wc: 548 | rated: T cw: none tags: Robin, Mechanic Eddie, Formula 1 driver Steve [AO3 link]

"Steve, amore, Harrington!"

A woman, who's definitely not a crew member, walks into the pit lane and snuggles right up to Harrington.

She wraps her arms around him in a side hug, sneaking a hand into his overall - runs them right over his pecs and -

"Fuck!" Eddie swears as his loosening grip on the tool in his hand lets it fall right his foot and stops all thoughts about Harrington's pecs.

Still swearing, Eddie picks up the tool, sends it a death glare and looks back over to Harrington right in time to catch the guy looking away and hiding his laugh in her shoulder.

Eddie would feel more embarrassed about it if his mind wouldn't go right back to thinking how perfect the guy was. Even as he's trying to hide that he's laughing at Eddie, he looks and sounds unfairly good.

The woman presses a kiss to Harrington's cheek, looks directly into Eddie's eyes and sends him a wink. Which, right, Eddie had been staring again.

While Eddie tries to hide his embarrassment, she sneaks out and Harrington goes towards his car. On his way, he stops at Eddie's side, smiles at him, and pats his shoulder.

The race starts, the mechanics nail the tire change and Harrington gets on the podium.

---

The next few races, like clockwork, the woman, that took to sneaking in just before the drivers had to get ready for the race, walks in and goes right up to Harrington.

The following display of trusting intimacy starts making Eddie a little bit jealous which he tries not to show or at least not get caught showing.

He still gets an unreadable but meaningful look from her and a friendly pat from Harrington for his effort.

---

"There's Harrington's good luck charm again," one of the other mechanics whispers.

"Who?", an engineer asks.

"The chick that started sneaking in a few ago - Harrington's been on the podium every race since she started showing up," someone explains.

"That's why we let her do it," someone else laughs.

As always, Eddie stares, wishes he was her, tries not to get caught and again gets a wink from the woman and a smile and a pat from Harrington.

The race is another podium.

---

It's already getting close to the starting time, but the woman still hasn't shown up.

The crew shares nervous looks, everyone kinda believing that she's the reason for Harrington's lucky streak, not wanting to risk it. Someone nudges Eddie.

"Go ask him what's up, he's friendly with you!"

Reluctantly, Eddie goes and right away asks, "Where's your lucky charm?"

"What?"

"Your girlfriend," Eddie states.

Harrington looks as confused as before.

"The one who's always giving you a kiss. Crew's started calling her that...you got all the podiums, since, ya know," Eddie trails of as Harrington's face lights up in recognition.

"Robin?" he asks, smiling. "Not my girlfriend, but I see how you got to that conclusion. Couldn't make it."

Eddie involuntarily takes a step forward at his sad face.

"You gonna do it in her place?" he almost flirts, presenting Eddie his cheek.

And who's Eddie to deny the guy? He kisses Steve's cheek.

Harrington wins.

As the team celebrates, Harrington takes Eddie aside to whisper, "Actually, amore mio, you are my lucky charm."

[stobinesque]

like a moth to a flame [pt. 1]

I got carried away with scene setting, so this is to be part one of a two-parter for the @steddiemicrofic challenge for September--though in keeping with the spirit of the challenge as best I can both parts work/will work entirely as standalones.

Part Two is now up!

prompt: ‘charm’ | wc: 548 | rated: T cws/tags: Implied Vamp Steve, Implied Compulsion, Strangers to Lovers

Eddie’s blood thrummed to the driving bass blaring through the club speakers, and he’d be more annoyed that Chrissy dragged him here were it not for the excellent view before him whilst he sipped his drink.

The creature on the dance floor was a vision. Golden-brown hair that shone and sparkled under the strobing lights, and eyes that glinted green and gold with them.

He danced like no one was watching — though Eddie was certain every male-attracted eye in the place (maybe even some that weren’t) was on him — arms swung over his head, eyes slipping closed, hips rolling with the beat. His too-tight polo rode up to expose a thin strip of skin and a tantalizing line of hair just above the fly of his painted-on Levi’s.

He looked like he’d crawled out of a homoerotic clothing ad from the 80s, and Eddie was salivating over it.

And entirely out of his league.

The man wasn’t even turning anyone down — he’d have to acknowledge any of the people practically throwing themselves at him in order to do that — and if none of the shiny muscled men or pretty blonde women were doing it for this guy, there no way that Eddie was going to.

As if the cant of Eddie’s thoughts had caught his attention, the next time the man looked up, his eyes locked on Eddie’s own.

All air expunged itself from his chest.

The man’s face bloomed when he smiled. If Eddie wasn’t firmly seated, he would have tripped over his own feet at seeing it.

Time seemed to slow and dilate around him, everything moving in slow motion. The music faded to the background. Everything in Eddie’s periphery disappeared. His focus tunneled on this man, and him alone.

Eddie still wasn’t breathing. Was starting to feel light-headed as the index of those wide hands crooked in his direction.

It was like a hook behind the navel. A taut line running from him to the most beautiful person Eddie had ever laid eyes on. He was on his feet and stumbling across the dance floor before he had a chance to think better of it. He didn’t have time to feel self-conscious about his dancing, or his looks. It was like the second those thoughts appeared, they were winked out of existence.

Eddie blinked, and he was in the cradle of the man’s arms. Hips flush together, grinding to the rhythm of the music.

Eddie still couldn’t breathe. Eyes latched to ones flashing a kaleidoscope of hazel, green, gold, cerulean.

The man reached up. Twirled a strand of Eddie’s hair around his finger, his smile sharp. Predatory.

“Aren’t you a pretty thing?”

An answer flew unbidden — by Eddie, at least — from his lips. Like he’d rolled a Nat 1 on a wisdom-saving throw against a charm effect. “S-sure?”

Was he pretty? No one had ever called him that before. Was he a thing? He could be.

“Follow me.”

Eddie was moving before he knew where the man was leading. A finger slotted through a belt loop, but he didn’t need it. The crowd parted for them like the Red Sea, and Eddie’s thoughts were static — blank of anything but the desire to meet this beautiful creature’s every whim.

[wingedquill]

@steddiemicrofic prompt for september! | "charm" wc 548 | rating: T | cw: (non-terminal) cancer

Steve sneaks out of his own party about two hours in.

It’s just…God, it’s overwhelming. His dad and Hopper are having some kinda macho mental breakdown in the corner, and his mom keeps pressing food into his hands, and the look on Robin’s face is just—it's joy, and pride, and fear, all directed at him, and he doesn't know what to do with it.

The whole room is heavy with his people's love for him, so strong he swears he could reach out and grab it. He'll go back in later and bathe in it, but for now, he retreats outside.

It's cold and drizzling, so of course Eddie's already there, sitting by the edge of the pool with his feet in the water. Steve pauses for a moment to just…stare at him, to take him in. The pool light wavers off his face, his freckle-dotted shoulders, the just-barely-long-enough-to-curl fuzz on his head. He looks beautiful.

He almost looks healthy.

 “Someday I’m gonna write about this,” Eddie says, as Steve kicks off his shoes and sits down next to him. “I’m gonna make us all incredibly smart, incredibly sexy action heroes who never lose, and I’m gonna twist the facts enough that Uncle Sam won’t tear my dick off, and I’m gonna make a million dollars on the film rights.”

“Yeah?” Steve snorts.

“Yeah. And I’m gonna make us vampires.”

Steve shivers, a raindrop slipping down the back of his neck and underneath his shirt. He leans into Eddie’s side, chasing his warmth.

“Vampires, huh?”

“It fits, right? Bats bite you, inject you with their weird bat venom, and your blood cells start mutating and multiplying faster than your body can keep up. Boom. Vampires.”

He winds his arm around Steve’s shoulders and pulls him closer, so close that Steve thinks he might fall right through Eddie’s skin and into his heart. It’s how they’ve gotten used to touching each other, these past six months.

Steve wonders if they’ll stop, eventually. If the fact that they have time now means they can stop holding each other like a breath.

He hopes they don’t.

“It’s a lot sexier than cancer,” Eddie says. “Isn’t it?”

“Maybe,” Steve says. “But you can’t go into remission from vampirism.”

It’s the first time he’s said the word, and it feels a bit like champagne on his tongue. Bubbly and bright and fucking intoxicating.

“Guess you can’t,” Eddie concedes. He kicks a foot forward, sending a spray of water up to meet the rain. “God. Fuck. You’re in remission.”

“I’m in remission,” Steve says. “We’re in remission. We made it.”

Eddie sniffles. Turns and presses a kiss into the side of Steve’s head.

“I feel like I should give this back to you, now,” Steve says, fiddling with the guitar pick around his neck. Eddie had given it to him the day he’d gone into remission, almost two months ago. 

My lucky charm. It got me this far, he’d said, curling Steve’s fingers around it. It’ll bring you the rest of the way.

“Fuck, no,” Eddie laughs wetly. “Keep it. You need all the luck you can get.”

“What about you?” Steve asks.

“I don’t need it. I’ve got you, don’t I?”

“Yeah,” Steve whispers as the rain comes down harder. “You’ve got me.”

[formosusiniquis]

there's no one like you

written for the @steddiemicrofic prompt: charm | wc: 548 | G | cw: none | tags: transfem!Steve Harrington Last minute second entry for this prompt, with bonus required listening

Don't just answer because you want it to be true. Really think about it, Eddie. It's okay if this changes things, I still want to be your friend. So just--, give me your answer in September when you're back, okay.

The van had already been idling, the guys and their things loaded into the back. Eddie, dumbfounded, could only accept the charm being pressed into his hands, the chain cold in his clammy grip. He had an answer poised on his tongue, it doesn't matter I love you, when the death rattle of the van's horn interrupted the moment. He leaned in, instinct, a goodbye aimed for lips or cheek rebuffed. The pick bit into the meat of his palm, sharper than plastic had right to be. And Eddie left for the tour. Refusing to check the rearview until they were twenty miles out of Hawkins, his heart aching and dried blood flaking off his hand onto the wheel.

So he thinks about it in June, when they walk into their first 'venue' -a bar bigger than the Hideout in inches, but stuffed with their recently built fanbase. He thinks about it in July, when the charm smacks against his face while headbanging on stage. He'd gotten used to having it around a different neck, where it would get twirled around a finger. He really thinks about it in August, when girls are screaming by the stage like Eddie's the next Jagger. Beneath the glares of heavy metal boyfriends, Eddie wonders if he could be the cross-armed guy on the side of the stage glaring at Bon Jovi cause he makes his girlfriend scream.

He thinks about it a lot as September begins. One show away from their homecoming performance, the audience has only gotten bigger. Crowd surfing, he feels the drop where hands fail to support his back. One cops a feel, a parting gift left in his back pocket, while the other reaches around to snatch at the pick. When Eddie thought about the rockstar life he hadn't thought he'd have to snarl at a fan for trying to take his girlfriend's things. His girlfriend Stevie who might like the new bra, if she never finds out where it came from.

He's thought about it, has his answer. He's still nervous when they make it home, where he knows his little family is in the audience. Stevie looks just as beautiful as she always has, yellow really is her color, and now that her hair is longer it floats in distracting waves around her shoulders. For a lot of reasons, he never thought he’d have a girl back home to miss. Now four months away is unbearable.

Eddie knows he has to get it out of the way fast. Let Stevie know he spent his time away doing just what she said. "It matters because it's important to you, but it doesn't change anything for me Stevie. I love you and this is still yours, if you want it." The charm catches the stage lights as he holds it up high, the sounds of the first song of the night --the one they learned just for her --starting strong. In a thousand universes there's no one like his Stevie and he needs her to know that.