prosedumpofmaya

[prosedumpofmaya]

I always thought about Stephen fell first but Tony fell harder. So please write something about this🥺.

“And really,” Stephen was saying. “It’s plain, simple logic. A child could grasp it. But can these novices?” Stephen scoffed. “Apparently not.”

Tony laughed a little. “You enjoy teaching, Stephen. Stop pretending you don’t.”

“I am not a teacher.” Stephen was so entirely aggravated, his nose wrinkling in frustration, and Tony found himself laughing harder. That only made Stephen’s expression grow more aggravated and Tony couldn’t help but love him.

His laughter cut off, and he reeled back.

Love.

Had Tony… had Tony just thought that?

Tony was pretty sure this was exactly what it felt like to be hit by lightning. Not the bit with the pain—thankfully—but the utter disorientation of being thrown out of a stable, easy environment and right into a whole new perception of life.

He stared at Stephen, feeling like his whole world had been turned on his head.

“What now?” Stephen grumbled, still giving off ‘exasperated with life’ vibes, but it was soft. It had always been soft, at least when Tony was involved. And the thing was… Tony knew Stephen loved him. Stephen had been straightforward, honest, and reasonable. He knew Tony didn’t love Stephen back and wasn’t asking for Tony to force it. He just wanted Tony in his life.

Tony had seen that love in so many ways and had always been so careful, because he didn’t want to ever give Stephen false hope or the wrong impression, but right now…

“Seriously, Tony? You look like you just got struck by lightning. What’s so dumbfounding about my dislike of teaching?” Stephen asked.

Tony didn’t respond. He leaned in and stole a kiss, because every moment he went without having ever kissed Stephen felt entirely unbearable.

Stephen froze beneath his touch and then he surged forward into it. For a moment it was messy and uncoordinated before they figured it out. Tony pulled back several breathless moments later and stared at Stephen. “I think we should get married,” he said.

Stephen’s eyes widened and then he laughed, eyes bright and expression warm. “Let’s start with a date, Tony.” He kissed Tony again, and Tony could feel his wonder, as though he’d never expected to have this. “We can save marriage until at least month three.”

Three months. That felt entirely too long. But Stephen had been waiting over a year, Tony could handle three months.

[prosedumpofmaya]

thinking about the potential of tophaang again.

the thing about atla is that it was always about balance. aang was the personification of everything toph needed but never had: freedom, flight, not being weighed down or restrained. while toph was the personification of everything aang was not: someone who faced her problems head on, rooted, always grounded. in aang’s first earthbending lesson toph taught him to face one of his biggest weaknesses, which was relying on evasion rather than directly facing problems. and there’s the fact that aang was fated to meet toph, the way the universe gave him signs that he would meet her until he did—from envisioning her in the swamp (someone you’ve lost, someone you loved), “someone who waits and listens”, the fact that their bond would go on to last more than one lifetime. aang needed the grounding toph gave him, and toph needed the freedom aang gave her. yin and yang. air and earth.

aang was the avatar, but he was also a 12-year-old kid who often struggled with the weight of expectations on him, on the fact that everyone’s solution to every problem was always “but you’re the avatar, you’ll find a way.” except that toph never idolised him or coddled him or acted like he was different; she treated him like he was a normal boy, she teased him, gave him nicknames. i’d know your little footsteps anywhere, twinkle toes. she was a grounding presence for aang, a reality check that he needed. aang gave toph what she always craved, freedom, and toph showed aang how to face one of his biggest fears.

earth was the hardest element for aang to learn because it was his element’s opposite, a representation of everything he was not. but toph’s blunt, head-on approach ultimately helped him grow as a person, to the point that earthbending became aang’s second most used element after air. there’s something so poetic about it. and then there’s the fact that they were the same age, at the same maturity level, plus the fact that toph never coddled him so they inherently felt like equals. they made similar jokes, had the same sense of humor. every time toph and aang fought together, they were devastating, in sync without words. two prodigious twelve-year-olds who despite their smallness were capable of incredible power. aang may not have liked toph’s style of teaching when they first met, but i believe that at that point of his life toph taught him the lesson he needed most.

[prosedumpofmaya]

I Can't Believe I See

@steddiemicrofic July prompt: Sign | WC: 507 | Rating: G

Inspired by the song "Tie a Yellow Ribbon Round the Ole Oak Tree" by Tony Orlando & Dawn. Divider credit to @steddiecameraroll-graphics

"You look like a nervous little dog, honey."

Eddie looks up as the bus seat next to him is suddenly occupied, pulling him from his thoughts and halting his mouth where he'd been chewing his nails down to the quick. His new companion is an older black woman who has one of the kindest faces Eddie's ever seen, understanding written on her features even though Eddie hasn't said a single word.

She pats his knee gently. "Tell Ms. Lucille what's on your mind."

"I, uh. I've been in prison for the last three years, was caught selling drugs and got put away for it," he explains as he turns to glance out the window, checking to see where they are. "Now I'm finally heading home, and I'm terrified."

"Going home is supposed to be a good thing. What's got you so scared of it?" Ms. Lucille asks, curious.

"I haven't seen my sweetheart since I left, and I don't know if Stevie still wants me, still loves me. Coming home and finding that I've lost the love of my life— That possibility haunts me."

Eddie swallows hard, chokes down the emotion that tries to build and checks out the window again. "I asked for a sign, in my last letter. I need to know ahead of time, so I don't have to face Stevie if I'm too late. There's a big oak tree right by the Welcome to Hawkins sign, and if Stevie still loves me, there'll be a yellow ribbon tied around it."

"And you're scared that there's not gonna be a ribbon," the woman deduces, and Eddie nods. "Well then. I'll keep an eye out for you, tell you if it's there or not. So you don't have to worry so much. Why don't you tell me about your sweetheart in the meantime?"

And god, if that isn't the best way to keep Eddie distracted; he could spend hours talking about Steve, about his beauty, his kind personality. He tries to not explicitly mention that Steve is a boy, but he knows he slips up a couple of times. Ms. Lucille doesn't seem to mind, though. She just keeps smiling, keeps listening.

Eventually she looks out over his shoulder, eyes intent on something. "There's the welcome sign," she says, and Eddie tenses up. This is it, this is the moment where he finds out if Steve still loves him, still wants him around even after he was a complete moron and got locked up.

There's a pause before she smiles, something joyful that ignites hope in Eddie's chest. "Turn around, honey. You'll want to see this."

Eddie turns, somehow knowing that she wouldn't ask him to look if the tree were empty and finds—

There must be a hundred of them, all looped around the tree trunk, their yellow tails blowing in the soft breeze. Eddie can't stop the tears that fall, and Ms. Lucille just tugs him forward into a tight hug.

"Guess you got your sign, huh?" she says.

Yeah, he sure did.

[prosedumpofmaya]

Written for @corrodedcoffinfest.

Like a Bloodhound

Prompt #8 - ER | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: E | CW: Sex | POV: Eddie | Pairing: Steddie | Tags: AU, Bar Hookup, Eddie is a Horny Size Queen Gremlin, Enter Stage Left: Steve "Big Dick" Harrington

"Hey! Gonna need you to be ready to call 911," Eddie says, leaning forward, spilling himself onto the sticky dive bar table. 

"What?!" Gareth shouts over the too loud music. 

"I might need to go to the ER later!" Eddie shouts, looking right at him, and Gareth makes a confused face. But leans closer to Eddie to hear him better.

Eddie leans in closer, "That guy has a big dick!"

Gareth shoves him away, hand pushing on his shoulder, and Eddie cackles. He's been ogling a dude across the bar for the better part of an hour. Watching him wave off potential suitors, men and women alike. So. Like, Eddie gets it. He's got no chance.

But that doesn't mean he can't look. If this guy's gonna put it all on display, Eddie's gonna enjoy the goddamn show.

He leans back in his chair, and kicks his feet up onto the table, boots shaking everyone else's drinks as he rests his hand over his belt where his half-hard dick has been begging for attention from this man whose fucking jeans aren't hiding shit. Even from here, Eddie can tell that he dresses to the right and that there's a lot going on down there, unless Eddie's perverted eyes are deceiving him.

Eddie's perverted eyes never deceive him.

If he knows one thing, it's cock. He can sniff out a big dick like a bloodhound tracking prey from a mile away.

And this one is attached to a very pretty dude that Eddie would like to take for a ride.

His shirt is unbuttoned one button too far, and Eddie appreciates the thick, dark chest hair on display. He's both not at all Eddie's type, but also everything he never knew he wanted, all at once.

Eddie needs him.

It's as if he can feel Eddie's eyes on him, because he turns and they make eye contact. Eddie raises his glass to him, a nod, a thanks for being so goddamn pretty. The guy smiles, and turns back to the girl he's with, getting into a bit of a heated discussion. Then he holds up two fingers to the bartender.

The second drink isn't for her, though. Apparently it's for Eddie.

Eddie is speechless, stuck in his stupid reclined position when the guy approaches, squatting down to make himself heard.

"I'm Steve," he says, "You weren't gonna come say hi?"

"Didn't know you wanted me to," Eddie admits, "it looked like you've had quite the parade of rejected suitors."

Steve rolls his eyes, "Well, I wasn't interested in them. I was interested in you."

Eddie tries to push his feet off the table, and only succeeds in kicking himself backwards. He feels himself falling, sure he's gonna crack his head on the floor with an embarrassing thud, a self-fulfilling ER prophecy — but he's caught. A strong hand on his chair, keeping him hovering mid-air like he's some sort of damsel in distress.

He's kinda into it.

"While I have a captive audience," Steve says, "you wanna get out of here?"

Eddie nods fervently.

Steve puts his chair back to the ground, and Eddie slides the drink he already had, plus the brand new one Steve bought him towards Gareth.

Gareth double-fists both, shouting to be heard over the noise of the bar, "I like him! I approve!"

Eddie ignores him, and lets Steve lead him from the smoky bar, a hand pressed firmly to the small of his back.

Eddie hitches his leg up higher on the hotel bed, exhaling as Steve presses inside him, a slow, steady motion that is already making Eddie shake and quiver. Steve's even bigger than Eddie expected. But he's determined to take it. Praise the lord and pass the ammunition.

Steve bottoms out, and Eddie huffs out a laugh. Steve rubs his hand against Eddie's back, "You feel so good."

Eddie was thinking the same thing. He's full, split wide, and he couldn't be happier about it.

Testing the water, Eddie pulls back off Steve's cock, just a little, and then sinks back down. Yep. Definitely good.

"Fuck me," Eddie demands, because he wants the full experience. 

Steve's hand glides across his back, fingers eventually settling against his side, gripping as he pulls back and thrusts back in. Starting slow, but eventually building speed and depth with each stroke. Bottoming out, then dragging back out, lighting every nerve in Eddie's body on fire. He's never felt anything like it. It's so fucking good. 

His prostate is getting attention coming and going, and Eddie's toes squeeze, curling, trying not to come all over the sheets this fast. It's gonna be futile, though. It's too much, too good.

Steve's too big. 

There's no reprieve.

No downtime to slow the build-up. He's just gonna have to ride this fast train to its inevitable conclusion.

Fucking in earnest, Steve's breathing heavy and loud in the quiet room. Eddie lets out a low moan. 

"Fuck yeah," Steve moans, "you're so tight."

"You're just really big," Eddie counters, and Steve laughs. 

Eddie doubles down, "I'm gonna come from that alone, I think."

"You think or you know?" Steve asks, and shifts, a movement that seems subtle, but is anything but. Now, he's just slowly dragging the head of his cock over Eddie's prostate. 

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," Eddie chants, digging his fingers into the sheets, holding on as long as he can before coming with a groan. Clenching, spasming.

Collapsing into the messy bedding. Steve pulls out, and Eddie rolls over onto his back, watching as Steve removes and tosses the condom aside.

Palming his still hard cock, stroking himself as he straddles Eddie's thighs. 

He settles his hand on Eddie's stomach, fingers splayed wide. It's big too. Fuck. 

"Here?"

"Fuck yes, come on me," Eddie says, watching Steve's hand work himself to the brink.

Then, Steve comes, head tilted back, moaning. Making a mess all over Eddie's flushed skin. 

Goddamn, Eddie's never wanted anything more.

It's settled. He's keeping Steve Harrington.

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @corrodedcoffinfest and follow along with the fun! 🦇

Notes: Poor Gareth and Robin. We couldn't hear it, but you know she was suffering just as bad as Gareth. Worse, maybe. She didn't get the free drinks, lol.

[prosedumpofmaya]

Steve and Robin decide to get matching ice cream scoop tattoos. Of course, Steve was a little nervous. He'd been scared of needles since Starcourt. The guy tattooing them was kind enough to give Steve a couple of beers to calm him down. Yeah, it loosened him up.

"I can't believe you! We were supposed to get MATCHING tattoos, Steve! MATCHING!" Robin shrieked.

"I'm sorry," Steve winced.

"I got a tattoo of an ice cream scoop and you got Eddie's fucking name tattooed on your arm," Robin said.

"I'm sorry."

"If it was just Eddie, you could have said that you're into Eddie Van Halen, but no, clear as day, Eddie freaking Munson," Robin said.

"I'm sorry."

"Is that a little heart over the I?" Robin asked.

"I'm sorry!"

"Stop saying that!"

Having Eddie's name on his arm meant that he could only wear long sleeves. No more polos for him. Robin remained irritated with him, and he knew why, but now Eddie was scowling at him. He did not know why he was doing that. The three of them were hanging out at Eddie's house, and Eddie was currently scowling at him.

"What's up, Eddie?" Steve asked.

"What happened to your polos?" Eddie asked.

"Oh, I still have them. I just wanted to try something different is all," Steve said.

"So you have them, but you've chosen not to wear them?" He asked, narrowing his eyes at him.

"Is this you're irritated?" Steve asked.

"I have completely forgotten what your arms look like!" Eddie exclaimed.

"But you do know what arms look like in general, right?" Steve asked sarcastically and Robin scoffed.

"He's just covering up the fact that we were supposed to get MATCHING tattoos," Robin said.

"You have a tattoo! Okay, now I'm irritated for a completely different reason. Why wasn't I there?" Eddie asked, pouting.

"It was supposed to be us getting ice cream scoops," Robin said, rolling her eyes.

"So, what did you actually get, Steve?" Eddie asked.

"Uh. . ."

Robin's eyes widened when she realized she almost revealed Steve’s secret.

"Uh! He actually didn't get anything! I went first, and he chickened out," Robin said quickly.

"Fine! Keep your secrets," Eddie said as he played the movie.

After the movie was over, the tattoo incident was pushed out of Steve and Robin's minds. Eddie, however, did not forget. His eyes widened when he looked at Steve.

"Oh my God! Steve! There's a fucking spider on you and I think it's one of those deadly ones! Oh my God! It disappeared into your shirt!" Eddie shrieked.

"Oh my God!" Steve screamed and took off his shirt along with his undershirt.

He started beating them against the couch.

"Oh my god," Eddie said softly.

Steve stopped what he was doing and looked at Eddie, who was staring at his arm.

"There was never any spider was there?" Steve asked.

Eddie placed a hand on his bicep, tracing his name on Steve’s arm. Eddie bit his lip.

"Why did you get this tattoo, Steve?" Eddie asked softly.

"Because I was thinking of you," Steve said.

"Platonically?" Eddie asked.

"No."

Eddie wrapped his arms around his neck and pulled him into a kiss. He smiled into the kiss, realizing that Steve was completely shirtless. He moved his hands as he kissed him, trailing them down to Steve's chest. He broke the kiss, grinning as he cupped Steve’s tits and squeezed.

"Honk, honk."

"Seriously?!" Steve asked, giggling.

"I still can't believe that you got my name tattooed on your body," Eddie said, rolling his eyes as he leaned over to place a kiss on the tattoo. "You know what this means?"

"That we're dating?" Steve asked.

"Yeah, that too," Eddie said. "I'm going to have to get your name tattooed on me now."

"You don't have to," Steve said, blushing.

"No, I'm gonna. Don't worry, it's just going to be 'Daddy' right over my nippless tit," Eddie said.

"Please, just get Steve," he muttered, blushing.

"Robin's going to have to wait a little bit longer at Max's," Eddie said.

"Wait, Robin left. When did she leave?" Steve asked.

"Probably when I stuck my tongue down your throat, sweetheart. She left a note on the chalkboard for us sluts," Eddie said. "Anyway, if you're up for it, I want to take you into my bedroom and rail you so hard into my mattress that I almost make you forget your own name."

"Y-yeah, totally up for it."

A few weeks later, Steve was throwing a pool party for the kids and the older teens. Steve was walking towards Eddie when Dustin spotted his tattoo.

"Steve! Do you have a tattoo of Eddie's name?!" Dustin shrieked.

"Yeah," Steve said casually.

"Why?!"

"He's my boyfriend," Steve replied casually, and Eddie grinned, wrapping an arm around Steve’s waist.

Once everyone properly freaked out, they offered the couple their congratulations.

"Eddie, how come you don't have one of Steve?" El asked.

"Oh, I do," Eddie smirked.

"All I see is Daddy," Mike said.

"Yeah, you do!" Eddie cackled and slapped Steve’s ass.

"Where is my ice cream scoop?!" Robin exclaimed.

[prosedumpofmaya]

Eddie and Steve settle down in a town just outside the border of Indiana, so close that it's only a different state in name, and carve out a little place for themselves.

They live in a tiny house at the edge of town with other like-minded recluses. They're all friendly, but they mind their own business. It's an open secret what they share in their house as two men with no wives or girlfriends, but they're not the only ones in similar positions.

Eddie gets a position at the only mechanic shop in town, which is always understaffed. Steve works at the grocery as a clerk and shelver.

After a handful of years of being with Eddie, Steve fully lets go of any lingering hope of having children of his own. It hurts a little, but even if the system would deign to give a child to a gay couple, it certainly wouldn't be two men living in a tiny bungalow at the ends of the forest. He wouldn't trade what he has for the world; he loved Eddie more than anything, but it's something he has to come to terms with.

Then one day, when they're both closer to 40 than 30, a kid starts lingering around the storefront for hours. He's probably around 11 or 12 give or take, small and skinny in a way that makes Steve ache a little. He wanders in and out a little, looking around at the shelves of cool drinks and fruit with a cautious eye until something startles him and he scuttles out to the front.

He watches it happen for almost two weeks. It's driving him crazy how no one is saying or doing anything. They're all just pretending they don't notice. He raves about it almost every night to Eddie, who calms him and nudges him a little to talk to him.

The next night, the kid is still there when Steve gets out at nine, later than he's ever stayed before. He takes a moment to waffle about what to do, but he grabs two iced teas from the fridge and two of those pre-packaged danishes and heads out.

He sits on the curb without saying anything, a safe distance between them, and drops half of his loot by the kid's leg. He doesn't look at him, just opens his own drink and looks out into the waning summer sun. He can feel scrutinizing eyes glaring at the side of his head, not touching the food.

They sit for a good five minutes before the kid snatched the drink and food up, turning his back halfway to scarf it down quickly. He scurries away quickly after he finishes, Steve watching him go.

Steve continues this routine, the kid, Jake, getting more comfortable as Steve continues to be kind. He opens up a little bit more about school and interests, but he never talks about home.

One day, Jake doesn't show up, and Steve freaks out. He goes home and gets Eddie so they can both drive all around town. Steve has a terrible feeling in his gut that sinks completely when they don't find him before the sun comes up.

Eddie holds him as he urges him to get some sleep before his shift.

The next day, all Steve can do is look out the big windows, waiting for ratty off-brand Converse and a red hoodie to walk through the doors. It takes almost his entire shift, but he does eventually see Jake slink around the corner of the store across the street, walking slowly toward the store.

Steve tears off his apron and makes some excuse to the other clerk, and runs out into the street to meet him. He knows he shouldn't, but he's just too relieved to stop himself, and scoops him into a hug.

Jake flinches but clings back desperately, clinging to Steve and sobbing into his shoulder. Steve doesn't give a shit if it's right or wrong or whatever, he knows Jake has been hurt and he's taking him home.

They get to the house, Jake having calmed down a little bit but still holding right to Steve's hand. He goes around and scoops Jake into his arms and takes him inside. Eddie is waiting on the porch, backlit by the soft glow of their living room.

Jake is hesitant at first, especially with the new man in the picture, but he knows Eddie from stories, and they get him to open up about what happened. The entire time, Steve is crushing Eddie's hand in his own, overwhelmed with rage.

They let Jake pass out on the couch, belly full of grilled cheese and tucked under their plushest blanket. The two men don't sleep that night, staying up until the sun rises again, discussing what to do.

In the end, Steve and Eddie leave in the early morning, going to the house Jake described in his story. They're greeted by a gruff-looking man reeking of booze, already spitting angry insults for the early wake-up call.

What they do is less than legal, but in a town this small, things tend to work by their own rules. They make it clear that Jake won't be coming back, and that they'll be keeping him under their roof. The man gives only a token protest before he lets Eddie bully his way into the house to find what exists of Jake's documents.

They go home and present their offer to Jake. They have room for him, if he wants to stay. He's old enough that he can make his own choice, and they won't force him, but they would love to give him a home.

Jake is a difficult, troubled kid, but he brings to much joy and purpose into their lives that they didn't even know they were missing. Their sparse neighbors keep them under their protection, making sure the budding little family has what they need to keep themselves afloat.

[prosedumpofmaya]

「 DON'T GET THE DOOR 」

OLDER!CLINGY!DAMIAN WAYNE X F!READER

★ SYNOPSIS: After days of being too busy to be intimate with you, Damian's finally got you propped up on the kitchen island, sweet and like putty in his hands, when a sudden knock sounds at the door... and he absolutely refuses to let you go and answer it.

★ TAGS: damian is 18+, suggestive content, nothing too much—just making out, and a bit more, damian is physically incapable of keeping his hands off you, srsly babe wtf did you do to him, dick and jason cameo at the end

★ A/N: just some dami hating everyone but you action 🤭 enjoy trying to get him off you lmao

line divider by @cafekitsune

Damian's gaze is heavy as it runs all over you, soaking you in with an intensity that makes you squirm on the counter, the marble cool against your bare thighs.

His hands are firm on your waist, sitting there like that's where they're meant to be—like they know no place else—as his chest moves to press up against your own, and his body stands situated right between your thighs, hot and present.

"I've missed you, Habibti," he whispers after a beat of just staring, and it comes out breathless, framed a little by disbelief, like he just can't fathom you're actually there.

You can only squirm in response, eyes ready to move to the side in all their bashful glory—when he ushers them back to him, fingers gentle against your chin.

"I've barely seen you these past few days—and now that I can, you choose to hide from me?"

You blink back at him, eyes wide and head shaking from side-to-side to convey what you can't with words, what you can't under the intensity of his gaze.

He hums, and he's so close now, so within kissing distance, that his breath fans over your face, minty and fresh, begging and pleading.

You don't even realise the way your lids grow heavy until it takes only half the time it usually does to shut them, until you're leaning forward and eager to meet him halfway as it registers to you just how much you've missed his touch.

Damian receives you with open arms, lips pressing against your own as he further pushes himself against you, hands now curling around your waist instead of situated at its sides.

All you can breathe is the scent of nature and cologne, drowning in all that is him until your head grows dizzy and your body begins to shake, until you're suffocating in heat and pounding need.

He kisses you like he's running out of time to, like at any minute, he'll be forced to pull away, hungry and desperate and left with an ache near impossible to fill.

He also kisses you like he has all the time in the world to, like he's taking in a piece of art, studying every inch until he has it etched into his mind forever.

It's too much—it's not enough—and you're left a panting mess when he pulls away, the air hot and heavy and seeping so much steam it practically fogs up your vision.

"Dami..."

He hums, lips now on your neck, having moved there as soon as he pulled away as though incapable of truly ever leaving you.

Your fingers move to card through his hair, and he groans right into your skin, just above a vein, sending a vibration straight through your body.

God, the moment is just so perfect, and you've just been so starved for attention, and everything in the world seems to just be going so right, that it feels wrong, like something will happen to ruin it all.

Something like a knock at your door.

At first, you think you're imagining it, because Damian continues to litter your skin with kisses like nothing's happened, his hands even beginning to roam beneath the hem of your shirt, touch light against your skin.

But then you hear it again, louder this time, and you're sure that it's real.

But Damian acts like it isn't.

His hands continue tracing patterns into your skin, lips painting your neck like it's one of his canvases as he worships you with all the devotion of a man begging for his life.

It's only when a third knock, even harder and louder than the former two, sounds from the door that he shows even a hint of acknowledgement, fingers digging into your sides, but not enough to hurt, your Damian would never hurt you.

"Damian!" a voice calls from the other side of the door, deep and insistent, "I know you're in there! Open up!"

"Would you be quiet?" another hisses right after, "People are looking."

You blink, pulling back a little, only for your boyfriend to chase after you.

Another knock at the door.

Damian growls into your skin just as you call softly, "Dami."

"Ignore those two idiots," he scoffs out with all the vitriol of a man wronged, one starved of something he's needed for far too long. "They'll leave eventually."

You nod, readily and easily because you don't particularly care for answering the door either. Not when he's holding you so sweet, and kissing you so right, and loving you like you're the only thing in his sight.

And you practically are with how he devours you, biting and sucking as he tastes you enough to shoot tingles down your spine and flood your veins with heat.

"Maybe he's not home," one of the two voices says, and you're just lucid enough to recognise it as Jason's.

"Oh he's home alright," the other responds, and you're quick to find that it's Dick.

But then all your lucidity washes out your veins because Damian's fingers start to crawl up your skin, and you're parting your lips to warn him with another call of his name.

"Dami—"

"Shh," he hushes you gently, and you know he doesn't mean it, soft and reverent as his hand reaches up to play with the band of your bra, lifting and snapping it back in place to send a jolt down your spine.

Your eyes dart to his, a heat pooling low in your stomach, and he simply meets your gaze with his own hooded one.

Then he moves to capture your lips again, and you're moaning low against his mouth, lips parting just a brief amount to let him in, when another huge bang slams against your door.

You pull back with a frantic, "Coming!"

Damian is already moving to try and capture your lips again, but you shut him down immediately, hands pressed firmly against his chest.

"Damian."

He growls, cursing beneath his breath in Arabic as he lingers a second longer, fingers curling against your skin. But he does ultimately let go, backing away enough to leave you room to hop off the counter, but not enough so that you can't feel the heat of him against you once you do.

And as you make your way towards the door, Damian follows right after, a shadow to his light, a knight to his princess.

A boyfriend to his girlfriend.

You swing open the door to two figures stood on the other side, both who you suspected them to be, wide-eyed and blinking as though they never thought you'd answer.

"Finally," Dick whines, lips jutted in a pout before they tug back up, flashing you one of his signature charming smiles. "Hey [Name]! Think Jason and I could crash—?"

"No."

A rush of wind flies over your face, the door to your apartment slamming shut before your very eyes to leave you dazed and a tad confused for a second.

Then a pair of arms wrap right around your waist, and that same voice that rejected the two brothers at your door is whispering right against your ear, hot and heavy, "Now... where were we?"

[prosedumpofmaya]

Because Jason has an enhanced immune system while Tim is immunocompromised, anything strong enough to get Jason sick is strong enough to do much worse to Jason. (As they learned the hard way from the first incident where Tim insisted on giving a sick Jason cuddles, and wound up in the hospital a few days later)

Because of this, the protocol is now that Tim stays in the manor whenever Jason is sick, and is not allowed back into their apartment until everything has been thoroughly decontaminated and Alfred has given Tim the all-clear that Jason is no-longer contagious.

In the meantime, Jason insists he's perfectly content with just facetiming Tim and doesn't want to risk his boyfriend's safety, but Tim is equally determined to make Jason feel better, and usually does this through building and programming a series of increasingly ridiculous and silly little robots to bring Jason soup and keep him company.

He's working on making a glorified hazmat suit but that is inexplicably more difficult

[prosedumpofmaya]

Gotham releases collectible photocards of their celebrities and the kids in Crime Alley are scrambling to find Timothy Drake ones because he's the only person that the Red Hood will exchange many many sweets and snacks for.

Oracle sees Hood crouched over the street with some young kids, zooms in to see Hood having a crisis because he only has enough chocolate to swap for ONE Timothy Drake card because its the super rare holographic with signature and a winking Tim.

[prosedumpofmaya]

JauTim Soulmate Instructions?

 “I have without a doubt the most obvious soulmate ever,” Tim announced. Jason, who had not been prepared for the replacement to be in his safe house right after he'd woken up, just stared. Walking out of his bedroom to find the younger man sitting on a couch, leaning back all dramatically with a cooler next to him, was weird.

 How he sat was just odd—all open legs and smug as shit grin. Jason’s eyes trailed over Tim’s legs and he tried not to stare too much. 

 “Good for you,” Jason muttered after a moment. “Why the fuck are you in my safe house?” 

 “I woke up last week after my birthday with the crystal clear instructions in my head,” Tim continued as he tapped the cooler. “And it kinda just clicked who it would be.”

 “Splendid,” Jason drawled. His instructions were fucking annoying. Find a red skateboard. Buy Zesti. Simple things that really didn't matter or tell him shit. 

 Tim’s grin widened, eyes flashing with glee. Jason told himself it wasn't attractive. 

 He was a crime lord who'd seen far too often how twisted soulmate stories could turn out, but he still half hoped for a fairy tale with his. The attraction he held for Tim was something he would only explore if it didn't work out.

 Or if he hadn't found his soulmate by next year. Either or.  

 “I mean, after all, who else could it be to drive me to break into Arkham with a crowbar and a machete?” Tim asked.

 Jason froze. He stared at Tim, who simply smirked. “… what’s in the cooler?” Jason asked. 

 “What is something your instructions asked?” Tim replied.

 “To get a red skateboard. A Baker brand one,” Jason replied. Tim’s smile grew sharper, and he stood up. Taking the cooler, he offered it to Jason. 

 With shaking hands, Jason opened it. Inside was a head and a bloody crowbar.

 A head with green hair and a red smile.

 “It was hard to fix the cameras, but I think-” Tim said before Jason snapped the cooler shut, yanked it out of Tim’s hands to put it on the coffee table. A second of worry passed over Tim’s face before Jason picked him right up to kiss him furiously.

 Looked like he got his fairytale after all. 

[prosedumpofmaya]

JayTim with Soulmates Can't Lie To Each Other AU

i had the thought and realized that Tim "I Lie To Batman" Drake would hate that

 Tim isn't someone who lies a lot. 

 “Liar.”

 “Batman does not count, Jason. That was what we both agreed on.”

 The exception, of course, will and always be Bruce Wayne aka Batman. 

 Tim was raised by parents who taught him misdirection and the subtle ways of a half-life. Or a false truth.

 “False facts!”

 “Do not freaking quote the orange.”

 Tim could dance around the full truth, hinting and leading to it. He could toe the line and speak a partial truth while misleading you to a different answer. 

 “So lying.”

 “It is NOT. See, I can't lie to you.”

 “Point. So why can't you misdirect me, Timbers?” Jason grinned at his soulmate, who scowled.

 “I don’t know!” Tim threw his hands up in a pout. “It's not fair!”

 “Poor Timbers,” Jason mocked. Tim crossed his arms.

 “You’re annoying,” Tim told him. Jason smirked.

 “Am I? I thought I was way too intense. Rugged? Charming-”

 “Now, who's the liar? I never said that.” Tim said.

 “To me,” Jason grinned. “Didn’t check the window while babbling to Stephanie!”

 Tim groaned, but couldn't help his half smile.

 He didn't like not being able to lie…

 But he did like Jason. 

[prosedumpofmaya]

last summer

for @corrodedcoffinfest prompt 'i know what you did last summer'

rated e | 773 words | no cw | tags: brief mentions of eddie with other people, fuckbuddies, friends with benefits, idiots in love, getting together

also on ao3

💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘

Eddie’s kind of a slut.

Sue him.

He likes sleeping around with any willing participant, mostly because there aren’t all that many willing participants to begin with. He’s in a small town and he’s weird enough that most of his conquests are doing it for free drugs or because they wanna know if the rumors are true.

He keeps it as lowkey as he can, still. Except for the summer before he follows Steve Harrington.

****

Steve is nice, way nicer than he thought he would be. He’s a flirt, but he’s shy, and it’s not even an act. He’s a dream.

Eddie fucks him until he cries.

But before he does that he fucks a lot of people until they cry. Double digits.

He goes all out because he’s fighting off the growing feelings for this man he knows he has no real shot in hell with. He fucks to forget the way Steve pulled him in, the way he moaned around his fingers when he insisted he wasn’t full enough, the way he licked into Eddie’s mouth when moaning wasn’t enough to say how much he was enjoying the way Eddie fucked into him.

Sarah was nice, but too loud even for Eddie.

Ryan was the typical Guy Trying Guys For The First Time, so he was nervous and trying to be macho even with a dick in his ass and it just wasn’t working for him. He came, he saw, he left quickly and didn’t give him his number.

Amy and Amanda were best friends since middle school and did everything together, including fuck guys who were no good for them. Eddie gave them both exactly what they wanted and went home.

Jackie was much too kind of a girl to be anywhere near him, but he adjusted and went slower, spoke nicer, gave her a kiss before he left.

Frankie, not to be confused with his friend and bandmate, was insistent on doing the fucking, and Eddie was in a mood, so he agreed. He limped out of there, sore enough that he knew he’d regret it all in the morning, but not upset about it.

His mind kept going back to Steve, though.

So he fucked him again, in his pool, under the stars and moon in some romantic subplot to his summer. They had to be quiet so the neighbors wouldn’t hear, but Steve’s quiet whimpers and whines as he fucked into him slowly, ripples of water crashing against their chests echoing against the concrete of the pool deck, were still loud enough that Eddie had to cover his mouth and move slower. He’s stunning with his hair wet and slicked back, his sun-kissed skin glistening in the moonlight. Eddie wants to write a song about this.

He fucks Laura the next night, doesn’t even think to ask her name before she’s screaming his. He finds out after, when he sees her necklace after she’s facing him in bed. He kisses her cheek and leaves.

No one is Steve.

****

“I wrote a song about you,” he admits while he’s holding Steve against his chest, rubbing his fingers up and down his spine. It’s the third night in a row he’s come over, the third night where he’s held Steve until he’s asleep and then snuck out as if he’s just another one of his slutty moments.

“Mm?” Steve’s exhausted, probably wrung out from two orgasms in the last hour. He’s barely awake.

“You’ve got in my head, Harrington,” Eddie says, voice dripping with fondness.

“Sing it for me?” Steve asks.

He can’t deny him a damn thing. He sings what he has, though he’s still working on the melody a bit. Steve won’t care.

It’s shaky because he’s trying to stay quiet, doesn’t wanna ruin this moment they’re in.

Steve snuggles in closer, hums contentedly.

Eddie feels splayed open when he’s done. He keeps holding onto Steve, waits for him to pull away and ask him to leave.

Instead, Steve kisses his chest, right over his frantic heartbeat.

He’s quiet, just lets his lips linger on his skin for a bit. His fingers are curled into Eddie’s side.

“If you can be just mine, you can come with me,” Steve finally says.

“Go with you where?” Eddie didn’t know he was leaving.

“Chicago. My parents are paying for my apartment while I go to school. They don’t have to know I brought my boyfriend,” Steve explains.

Eddie doesn’t even have to think about it.

“Yeah. I’m in.”

Every summer after that, Eddie’s still a little bit of a slut. But he’s a slut for Steve and Steve only.

[prosedumpofmaya]

Shower inspiration hit me for a scene between Robin, Eddie, and Steve, talking about how Steve never received (on screen) an apology from either Nancy or Jonathon. For ANY of the shit that happens between the three of them in seasons 1 & 2.

So I am making note of it here before I completely forget.

Because I do believe that both Robin and Eddie would get upset on his behalf. Because Steve is honestly far too fucking forgiving considering he was cheated on - Nancy and Jon sleep together before she has an actual conversation with Steve about them breaking up, she comes back from Illinois essentially already in a relationship with Jon before the clarification if Steve and her arguments meant the end of their relationship. It is Steve who tells her "it's alright" but it really isnt - had compromising pictures taken of him too and where as he has actively apologised and made an effort to actively make up for being an asshole, the other two have not. So yeah. I can see Robin and Eddie saying something to Nancy and Jon calling that out, especially if one of them makes a comment about how much of an asshole Steve used to be.

I also ponder what Will and Mike would say if they knew. Especially now they are almost the same age as the older three were.

Just a Steve showerthought.

Edit: PLEASE don't come at me as a Nancy ot Jon hater here. I honestly do like their characters, but I will admit this is a massive personal peeve of mine with the way their characters are written. That being said, they were all teenagers, and I am not naive enough to think they knew any better/knew how to cope with everything they were dealing with. That doesn't make it okay. But it DOES give critical contextual understanding to their actions. Same goes for Steve and his actions by the way even if he is my blorbo.

[prosedumpofmaya]

after seeing my 900th *someone in this circle...* trend on tiktok, i had to write Hazel's version that she ropes her dads into:

Hazel: Someone in this circle was supposed to film my last ever dance show and instead he filmed the floor for ninety minutes.

Steve: And he was filming on a phone. We still don't know how he did it

Eddie: Okay.

—

Eddie: Someone in this circle needs to be told we're leaving 30 minutes earlier than we actually need to leave or else she makes the entire family late.

—

Steve: Someone in this circle once listed 911 as her emergency contact.

Hazel: *Looks at floor in shame*

—

Steve: Someone in this circle puts empty shit back in the fridge and blames his children when I find it.

Eddie: Definitely Hazel.

—

Eddie: Someone in this circle hung up on school staff not once but eight times in one year because he forgot our oldest daughter's first name.

—

Hazel: Someone in this circle got so excited when he found out Moe was dating Gray that he forgot to get me a set of the matching Christmas PJs and I was the only one that didn't have them.

Steve: Yeah, that was pretty bad. Twenty years of matching PJs down the drain.

Steve: And you're not even the kid I thought I'd forget.

[prosedumpofmaya]

The Nanny

I am stuck on Monsters. It's been so long that I can't get the vibe right, and the only thing I can think of would be to restart it, but I don't wanna *cries*

So, I am avoiding, and AO3 has been down for 2 WHOLE HOURS and none of my 500 opens tabs are on my work computer.

And what? I'm gonna work on the day before a holiday? So...I write and still avoid and in the process, I decided to work my little Nanny AU brainworm into an actual little fic.

Steve Harrington was not having a good day.

He was successful—on paper. Wealthy. Widowed. Owner of one huge house and two very complicated children. Max and Dustin were smart, stubborn, and slowly driving him insane. He loved them, of course. Would die for them. Would also possibly murder if it meant they’d stop scaring off nannies.

Max was especially creative. She had a streak that could break hardened adults, and Dustin had the kind of innocent face that never, ever boded well. Steve was sure they were in cahoots, and the fact that the last nanny had left screaming about lizards only confirmed his suspicions.

He was pacing the foyer, phone pressed to his ear and voice tight with barely contained desperation. There was an important dinner that night, a mountain of paperwork still untouched, and the agency was telling him, again, that there were no available candidates after the last one had left unexpectedly under duress.

And then, mercifully, fatefully, there was a knock at the door.

Steve opened it to find a man standing there, poised to break into a rehearsed pitch.

Big brown eyes, unruly curls, and a nervous fidget that made him look like he’d either try to sell you something or flee the scene at any moment. He wore a too-tight button-up, with tattoos peeking from beneath rolled sleeves; khakis that didn’t quite fit right, and clutched a battered case like a shield. None of which were doing anything to make him look more legitimate.

Steve’s mouth did something suspiciously close to hanging open.

“Hello,” the man began, “I’m Eddie Munson, I’m here on behalf of—”

Steve didn’t hear the rest; his brain had already short-circuited in sheer relief. Because honestly? At this point? Anyone willing to show up was a godsend.

The agency line squawked in his ear.

“That was fast, thank you!” he said quickly, and with all the grace of a man who had absolutely given up, pressed the end call button, dropping the phone to the sideboard.

“Thank god. Thank god,” he breathed, grabbing Eddie by the wrist and pulling him inside without preamble.

Eddie hadn’t meant to get pulled in—literally. One minute, he was launching his half-hearted pitch about Shaklee supplements, standing on the porch of what was definitely the biggest house he’d ever seen in person, and the next, he was being dragged across the threshold by a man who looked like a GQ editorial having a nervous breakdown.

The man matched the house. Tall, tailored, and polished in a way that suggested legacy money and personal assistants, although Eddie saw none currently. Just stress in human form with artfully mussed hair and a biteable jaw.

“Thank god,” the man muttered as he reached for Eddie’s elbow and yanked him inside. “You’re here. You’re actually here.”

The door slammed behind them.

“I—what—?”

He didn’t stop moving. “The agency was telling me they had no one else. Said it was a matter of liability at this point, OSHA got involved somehow—completely absurd. And then you showed up. Perfect timing. Miracle-level timing.”

“Okay, but—”

The other man was already pulling him down a long hallway lined with wood paneling and family portraits that looked like they hadn’t smiled in six generations. “There’s a dinner tonight, very important. I was this close to leaving the children with Robin, and we all know how that would’ve ended.”

“I—who’s Robin?”

“That would be me,” came a dry voice from just behind them.

Eddie turned. A woman was leaning in the doorway of what appeared to be a very expensive office. Her suit was neatly pressed, her arms crossed, and her expression unimpressed.

“And yes, everyone should be grateful that didn’t happen. I like this suit.”

They swept into the room. It smelled like old money and new desperation.

“Please, take a seat,” the man said, motioning toward a velvet-upholstered chair, slipping on a pair of gold-rimmed reading glasses as he rifled through drawers in the massive desk.

“I think I still have one copy of that contract left. Which is great; we’re operating on a limited timeframe, I’m afraid. As I mentioned, I have a corporate dinner this evening, and I can’t afford another incident involving fire, reptiles, or creatively weaponized breakfast cereal.”

Eddie blinked. “Wait—what?”

“Ah—found it.” he held up a sheaf of papers like they were holy writ. “Just need a few signatures and we’ll be all set. I really can’t thank you enough for showing up on such short notice.”

“I think there’s been a misunderstanding,” Eddie said, still standing, case clutched awkwardly to his chest. “I’m not from the agency.”

Steve froze. “What does that mean, not from the agency? Are you freelance? I’m Steve, Steve Harrington? You’re here about the nanny position, are you not?”

“No. I’m, uh…” Eddie cleared his throat. “I’m here to tell you about these amazing nutritional supplements from Shaklee. But I mean—if you need someone for the night…” He winced at himself. Bad timing. Bad phrasing.

The light in Steve’s face dimmed instantly.

Robin made a slight noise like she’d just bitten the inside of her cheek.

Steve didn’t move at first. Then, very slowly, he set the papers down on the desk, straightened them, and sat on the edge of the chair like his bones hurt.

“Of course you are,” he said quietly. “Why would anything go right today?”

His voice was calm. Not clipped or cold. Just flat. Tired in the kind of way that didn’t show under his tailored button-down and perfectly styled hair but lived behind his eyes.

“I’m terribly sorry for dragging you into this circus,” he said, rubbing at the bridge of his nose. “Robin will write you a check for your time. And thank you very much for your patience. This has been… a week.”

Eddie opened his mouth, he wasn’t even sure why, maybe to apologize or say it wasn’t a big deal, but Steve had already turned away, shoulders tight.

Robin tilted her head toward the door. “Come on.”

They were halfway down the hall when Steve’s voice carried after them again, sharper now, brittle with frustration.

“What do you mean no one else will come? It was a harmless garden snake—completely nonvenomous! And who the hell is allergic to lizards?! That can’t even be a real thing!”

Pause.

“A list? What do you mean, a list? My children are wonderful! Yes, well then, you can go to hell!”

A sharp slam of the phone followed, and a moment later, Steve reappeared in the hallway, the collar of his shirt slightly askew, his composure cracked at the edges.

He looked at Eddie—not with hope, exactly, but with the wild, weary recognition of a man cornered by circumstance.

“You said... for a night, right?”

Eddie blinked. “Depends. What’s the benefits package?”

They ended up in a smaller sitting room off the front hall, something out of a magazine; and something Eddie certainly didn't have enough net worth to even touch.

There were throw pillows that probably cost more than his van, and Steve Harrington was currently sitting on the edge of a pristine armchair, legs crossed neatly, wire-rim glasses perched low on his nose as he reviewed the paper in his hands.

“I’ll need a résumé," he’d said, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Even for a trial arrangement. For liability.”

Eddie, who had not expected to be here this long, nodded and rifled through his bag until he pulled out the only available paper, the back of a Shaklee nutrition facts sheet.

He’d then scribbled down as much as he could of his, ahem, sparse work history before handing it over.

Steve cleared his throat. “This is… certainly unconventional.”

“You asked for a résumé," Eddie said, a little defensive. “I ran out of ink halfway through, and the only pen I could find after that was one Wayne uses to mark his shop receipts, so… yeah. Sorry.”

Steve read in silence. His expression gave nothing away — not even when he turned it over and was met with bold lettering about omega-3s and colon health.

Eddie sat very still.

He was just about to start explaining one of the more questionable bullet points when something thumped onto his shoulder.

Something alive.

Eddie froze. Slowly turned his head.

There, perched like a smug little gargoyle, was a bearded dragon. Scaled, heavy, and alarmingly confident. Its glassy eyes blinked at him.

“Jesus Christ!” Eddie yelped, jerking sideways but not enough to knock it off. The lizard clung as if it lived in chaos, and this was par for the course.

From behind him came a faint giggle.

He twisted around, lizard still firmly perched.

Behind his chair, two kids watched—a boy and a girl, maybe eight or nine. The girl had giggled, but when Eddie failed to scream and run, she scowled. Her brother followed suit, though the look didn’t fit as naturally on him. His cheeks were still round, curls wild. Cherubic. Hers were sharp and fierce, warrior-like.

Steve didn’t look up. “Maxine, not even a single tear. You’re losing your touch.”

He skimmed further down the page. “Mr. Munson, it says here you oversee a youth dungeon?”

“What? No—wait, let me see that.” Eddie leaned over, careful not to dislodge the lizard. “Oh! No, that’s Dungeon Master for a youth D&D group. At the Y.”

At that, the boy lit up. Practically vibrated with interest.

The girl, Maxine, stomped over and plucked the lizard from Eddie’s shoulder with a glare. “I hate him already.”

“Now, Maxine,” Steve said warningly, “let’s not be hasty.”

Eddie grinned. “Yeah, I haven’t even made you roll for initiative yet.”

Max’s response was a withering eye roll as she flopped onto the couch.

Steve turned to the boy. “Hello, Dustin. How did therapy go today? Any breakthroughs?”

“Dr. Clarke and I did some regression,” Dustin said seriously, embracing his father.

“Oh,” Eddie said. “So, like... inner child stuff?”

“No. Literally regression. Age nine, point of divergence. Memory work.”

Eddie blinked. “That sounds like a lot for a Tuesday.”

Dustin deadpanned, “You have no idea how complicated I am.”

Steve gave a quiet sigh, standing and opening his arms. “Hi, buddy. Come here.”

Dustin went without hesitation, hugging him tight around the middle.

“Dr. Clarke says I’m emotionally advanced,” he reported into Steve’s sweater. “Also a little manipulative, but in a productive way.”

“That’s my boy,” Steve muttered into his hair.

Eddie tried to regain control. “Therapy, huh?”

Max jumped in, still stroking the lizard like a Bond villain. “Yeah. It was a lot easier than talking with us directly.”

“Maxine, that’s enough. Go to your room.”

She rolled her eyes, a dramatic, full-body motion, and stood, adjusting the lizard on her shoulder like a feather boa. “Come on, Dustin. Let’s leave Father alone to hire another person to handle his problem children.”

Dustin didn’t protest. He gave a short, formal nod to Eddie. “Good luck.”

The kids disappeared down the hall like they owned it.

Eddie turned slowly back to Mr. Harrington. “Bitter little person, isn’t she? We’ll get along just fine.”

Steve didn’t laugh, but his mouth twitched like he might’ve wanted to. “I’m sorry you had to see that. As you can tell, I’m in over my head. More than a door-to-door salesman should have to deal with.”

“Oh, please,” Eddie said, sitting up straighter. “I come from Forest Hills. Nothing these kids can throw at me is worse than what’s been thrown at me.”

Steve picked up the résumé again, folded it in half, and took a deep breath.

“You’re clearly not what I expected,” he said. “The agency didn’t send you. You’re underqualified, underdressed, and your references are vitamins.”

"However, you have some experience. You haven’t run screaming. You’re not allergic to reptiles or sarcasm. Given the current labor shortage and my complete lack of better options…”

Eddie held up a finger. “Wait, does this mean I passed the interview?”

“Trial basis,” Steve said quickly. “One week. If you can survive that, we’ll discuss something more permanent.”

Eddie’s jaw dropped. “Are you serious?”

“I’m not in the habit of joking about my children.”

“Thank you!” Eddie surged forward, nearly knocking over the coffee table as he stood. “You won’t regret this, Mr. Harrington. I swear.”

Steve rose too, instinctively stepping out of hugging distance. “I already suspect I will. Robin will show you to your room.”

“The nanny gets to live here?!” Eddie called after him as Steve disappeared through a side door.

Robin appeared at his elbow like a summoned spirit. “Come on, Munson. Before he changes his mind.”

Somewhere in the house, Max whispered to Dustin, “He won’t last a week.”

Dustin grinned. “Wanna bet?”

tags: @dame-zoom-a-latte @queenie-ofthe-void @wheneverfeasible

[prosedumpofmaya]

prompt: dress

(originally posted on my bluesky here)

The first time Eddie caught Steve wearing a dress, he hadn’t been sure how to react at first.

Hellfire had finished early, and he’d decided to surprise Steve with some takeout from the cheap Chinese place downtown.

He’d walked into the trailer to hear ABBA blasting from his room, and with a fond roll of his eyes, he’d gone down to his room to greet Steve, only to stop short.

Instead of his usual polo and jeans combo, Steve was wearing a dress.

It was a short-sleeved pastel thing, with the hem going to just below Steve’s knees, and a collar and buttons going down the front.

Steve must not have heard him come in because he hadn’t looked away from his reflection in Eddie’s mirror, bottom lip caught in his teeth.

Eddie cleared his throat. “Steve?”

Steve jumped about a foot in the air, turning to look at Eddie with so much terror in his eyes that Eddie’s heart broke.

“Fuck! Eddie, I— it’s not— please don’t—“

Eddie didn’t hesitate to cross the room and cradle Steve’s face in his hands.

“Hey, hey, you’re okay, Stevie, it’s okay. Just take some deep breaths for me, Darling, everything’s okay, I promise.”

“Eddie,” Steve pleaded, gripping Eddie’s wrists like a lifeline. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I know I shouldn’t—“

Eddie cuts Steve off with a kiss to his forehead. “Stevie, baby, don’t apologize. Don’t apologize, okay?” Tears have started leaking out of Steve’s closed eyes, each one giving a viscious tug to Eddie’s heartstrings. “Baby, can you look at me? Please?”

It takes a moment before Steve sniffs and opens his eyes, more tears dripping down his cheeks as he looks at Eddie with trepidation. Eddie wipes them away with his thumbs as he murmurs, “Hi, baby.”

“Hi,” Steve croaks back.

Eddie gives him a gentle grin. For a moment, Eddie doesn’t say anything else, just continues to hold Steve’s face in his palms and wipe away the tears that continue to fall. Steve looks less terrified now, but there’s a sort of sad resignation taking over his expression that Eddie absolutely hates.

Eddie makes sure to keep his eyes locked on Steve’s, meaning every word as he says, “I think your dress is really pretty, Stevie.”

A million and one expressions flash across Steve’s face in the span of a moment. “What?”

“Do you think it’s pretty?”

Eddie watches Steve search his expression like he’s trying to figure out what the right answer is supposed to be.

“Eds,” Steve starts, “I’m not supposed to—“

“Ah ah ah, nope,” Eddie cuts in. “I don’t give a fuck about ‘supposed to’. I give a fuck about you.” Eddie presses another gentle kiss to Steve’s forehead. “So tell me, and be honest, baby — do you think the dress is pretty?”

Steve’s hands are shaking where he continues to hold on to Eddie’s wrists. “Yes,” he whispers.

“And do you like wearing it?”

Steve closes his eyes and nods like the admission is a death sentence.

“Then that’s all that matters, baby,” Eddie promises, tucking Steve’s face into his neck and pulling Steve into a tight embrace. He uses one hand to cradle the back of Steve’s head and uses his other arm to wrap around Steve’s back, rubbing a comforting hand up and down his shaking back.

“If wearing dresses makes you happy, then I’m gonna buy you all the dresses you want, okay? Gonna have the prettiest baby in all of Hawkins.”

Steve makes a wounded noise, and Eddie holds him tighter, not letting go until they’re both tired of standing. Even then, he only detaches long enough to get Steve comfortably situated in his bed before he’s once again wrapping himself around Steve. They stay the night like that, takeout long forgotten as Eddie whispers reassurances until they fall asleep.

Two weeks later, Eddie hands Steve a shopping bag with a quick “got you something” and watches with his heart in his throat as Steve pulls out the yellow dress Eddie found for him at the discount clothing store. The moment he’d seen it, it had immediately reminded him of Steve and his favorite yellow sweater, and he’d bought it for Steve without even thinking about it.

Steve hasn’t really moved since he realized what he was holding, just stared at the dress before slowly rubbing the white lace trim with his thumb and pointer finger.

Eddie is so scared of messing this up, of having already messed it up, that he chokes back the avalanche of words trying to spill out of his mouth.

After another long moment of silence, Steve finally says something.

“You meant it?”

“Huh?”

Steve swallows visibly. “When you— when you said it was okay that I liked—“ Steve takes a fortifying breath. “That I like to wear dresses, and that it’s okay if it makes me happy.” Steve finally looks at Eddie, eyes full of shock and hope. “You meant it?”

“Of course I meant it,” Eddie promises. He finally lets himself move, striding forward and tucking Steve against his chest. “Stevie, baby, I love you so much and I just want you to be happy.”

Steve wraps his arms around Eddie’s back and squeezes so hard that it hurts, but Eddie doesn’t say anything. Just keeps holding Steve until Steve eventually pulls back, surreptitiously wiping his eyes before leaning his head on Eddie’s shoulder and looking down at the dress resting in his lap.

“The yellow is really pretty,” Steve murmurs.

Eddie hums in agreement. “Made me think of you the moment I laid eyes on it.”

“Really?”

“Yep.” Eddie presses a kiss to Steve’s temple, letting his lips linger there as he murmurs, “my pretty little sunshine.”

.

.

.

send me a 📝 and a one-word prompt and i will try and write a lil microfic for you!

[prosedumpofmaya]

Robin acts as a surragute for Steve and Eddie and Steve and Robin are lavander married so he's allowed in the room after the kid is born they try and place it on her for skin to skin contact but she refuses waved vaugely towards Steve (with his hand still gripped in hers) and tells them that it's his problem now, which the medical people find amusing because yeah 9 months of suffering and untold hours of labor theyd be pretty done with the thing to but argue that skin on skin is needed and good for bonding and all of that so Steve whips his shirt off and demands they give him his kid

Which is how Eddie finds him once all the medical stuff is done and he can sneak in to visit his kid, tears absolutely streaming down Steve's face