#eddie just wants to be who he is and feels like he's inherited all the shit of his father specifically | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

livwritesstuff · 10 months ago

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uh so i was feeling like writing something angsty and ever since i wrote this a little bit ago i can’t stop thinking about the idea of what the upside down coming back decades later would look like, however it’s a bummer and not the vibe i want for my steddie!dads verse so consider this an au for an au or whatever idk

It’s a normal, average, mundane, regular Wednesday when Dustin calls.

They don’t talk as much as they used to, but that’s adult life, Steve supposes.

They both have entire lives now, spouses and children and jobs that consume pretty much every waking hour. The near-1000 miles that separates Steve and Eddie in Massachusetts from Dustin in Indiana doesn’t help things either, and seeing as how Dustin had long-since inherited the Hawkins Lab research from Owens when he retired back in the mid-2000s, that won’t be changing any time soon.

Steve is home when Dustin calls, and between counseling clients, so when the phone rings and lights up with his name, Steve picks it up with a grin.

“Hey man, what’s goin’ on!”

Nothing but silence comes through Dustin’s end for a while – such a long time that Steve checks to make sure that the call didn’t drop or his phone didn’t die or something (and neither had happened, so it’s definitely a Dustin thing).

“Dustin?” he asks, “You there?”

Silence, still.

Then –

“Steve.”

Dustin sounds…not normal, and Steve feels the grin slide off his face.

“What?”

“Steve,” he chokes, “It’s…it’s back.”

Steve feels his heart stop for a second, feels it like all the blood in his veins came to an abrupt halt for just a moment.

“The Upside Down,” Dustin continues, “It…all of…it’s back.”

He sounds like he’s underwater, or maybe Steve’s the one sinking beneath the surface, just like he’d done forty years ago when he’d taken Dustin’s place on that boat and got dragged into hell through the depths of Lover’s Lake.

Steve hangs up the phone, his hands shaking.

His knees feel shaky too, like they can’t support his weight anymore despite doing so for nearly sixty years.

They’ve been giving him problems lately – his knees. Nothing too crazy; he can still go on his runs and putter around the yard and all that. It’s just a part of aging, he supposes, and he hadn’t minded aging before – liked it, even. Liked his greying hair and the crow’s feet around his eyes and his achy knees, because there’d been a period of time many years ago when he wasn’t sure he’d make it long enough to experience that inevitability of life.

Right this second though, he hates it, hates the way it makes him realize he’s not as nimble as he used to be, the way his reaction time isn’t the same anymore, because he knows that’s what had gotten him through those horrible years back in the mid-eighties.

He lowers himself down, and as his ass hits the tile floor of the bathroom – his daughters’ bathroom, the one they’ve shared practically their whole lives, the one Moe lost her first tooth in, the one Robbie pierced her own ears in, the one Hazel will be getting ready for prom in soon – Dustin calls him again.Steve doesn’t pick up, too busy kicking himself for not considering sooner the possibility of this sooner, for not having a plan ready to execute to keep their daughters safe the way no adult had done for him.

He can feel an old instinct – the urge to gather his loved ones close – starting to kick in, his mind starting to race as he catalogs the people who make up his small corner of the world.

Hazel is easy – she’s at the high school just down the road. He can have her back home, back within arm’s reach, in a matter of minutes.

Robin and Nancy are next closest, still living in Boston after all these years. Steve would wager a guess that they’ll be hearing from Dustin soon if they haven’t already, and then they’ll probably head Steve and Eddie’s way, and then they’ll all regroup.

They’ll figure out what their next moves are.

Moe and Robbie are trickier with both of them living in New York City and likely unwilling to leave their school and their jobs and their friends without any warning whatsoever. Moe is getting more and more reasonable the older she gets, so Steve may have to start with her and hope that Robbie follows.

Moe is twenty-two now.

Moe is older than both of her dads had been when Eddie had nearly died, when Steve had carried him out of hell and made sure he didn’t. All three of their daughters – even seventeen-year-old Hazel – are older than Steve had been when he got sucked into that horrible mess, and they’re still so damn young.

With two decades of parenting under his belt, he finds it kind of unbelievable that anybody had looked at his sixteen-year-old face and seen anything but a child, nevermind actually asked him to do the things that he’d done.

Dustin calls him two more times before he gives up. Only a moment later, Steve hears Eddie’s phone ring downstairs, and then he hears Eddie’s jovial tone as he answers the call.

He goes quiet real quick after that.

Just as Steve is deciding who to call first – Hazel’s school or Moe – his phone vibrates, two quick buzzes that can only indicate a text from Robin.

He opens it.

did dustin call you?

Steve lets out a heavy breath because, fuck, it’s real.

Yeah, he texts back, then adds –

This fucking sucks

40 years

As Steve watches the bubbles of Robin’s incoming response, he can vaguely hear Eddie’s ascent of the stairs, still on the phone with Dustin.

The bubbles disappear.

“Fuck you, Dustin,” he hears Eddie snarl, “This is on you.” There’s silence for a while, and Eddie seems to pause in the hallway just in front of their bedroom door. Then, “Yeah, I’ll talk to him…I know…later, man. Love you. Be safe.”

Steve looks down at his phone to see that Robin is still typing, only for the bubbles to disappear again a second later.

Finally –

nance is going back

i’m going with her

Steve could throw up.

He almost does, he’s pretty sure, although he’s not positive because he might be having an out of body experience, or maybe he’s dissociating, or maybe it’s a fucking PTSD flashback or something. He doesn’t know.

He should know, or so his handful of psych degrees would suggest, and he probably would know if it was happening to someone else, but then again, he’s always worn blinders when it comes to himself.

That was true about him when all this shit started in 1983, and it’s still true now, almost forty years later.

Forty fucking years.

He doesn’t look up when Eddie comes into the bathroom, joining him on the floor with his back against the bathtub.

“Dustin took offense to you hanging up on him,” he says, and Steve can hear the way he’s forcing humor into his tone.

As if any of this shit is funny.

“Erica and the kids left with Claudia,” Eddie continues, answering a question Steve probably would’ve gotten around to asking Dustin himself if it weren’t for the whole hanging up on him thing, “Erica went kicking and screaming, obviously. I offered up our house, but they’re still deciding where they want to camp out. And everyone has agreed not to say a word to Jim and Joyce.”

Yeah, that makes sense, seeing as they’re both in their eighties and perpetually acting like they’re thirty years younger – at a minimum.

Not that Steve would know anything about that.

Definitely not.

“He said he’s one-hundred percent positive that it’s all still contained to Hawkins, so…” Eddie pauses, “We don’t have to, like, track down the girls or anything. Just make sure they don’t go anywhere near Indiana.”

And that, at least, is an actual relief.

“Robin’s going back,” Steve tells him, because there’s no point waiting to address that particular issue in this whole fucking mess.

The so I’m going too is implied, because that has never needed to be said when it came to Steve and Robin.

The way Eddie’s face changes evades Steve’s ability to describe. It makes him regret saying anything – that’s for fucking sure. Makes him wish he’d just snuck away in the dead of night.

“C’mon man, we’ve picked up a whole fuckin’ litter over the years,” Eddie says, and he’s still forcing humor into his tone, “You can’t leave me to fend off the masses alone – the years have made me weak-willed, I’ll surrender immediately.”

Steve manages a snort, but he still looks down at the floor all the same.

Eddie doesn’t say anything else for a while, but his hand wraps around Steve’s ankle as if there was enough brute strength in the one appendage to keep him rooted to the bathroom floor.

(Strangely enough, it feels like there might be).

“Steve,” Eddie finally says, his voice stiff and hard in a way Steve doesn’t think he’s ever heard before, “We are way too old for this shit – Robin and Nance too.”

Eddie pauses.

“Steve,” he says again, “I know how important Robin is. I know, but our children would be fucking devastated if anything happened to you. Don’t think they wouldn’t – and something would most certainly happen to you.”

“Eddie.”

He’s still avoiding his husband’s eyes.

“Steve,” he pleads, something desperate in his voice, “We talked about this. Remember? Last spring, when we watched that stupid zombie show with Hazel? And there was the episode with the old gay guys? We talked about this. You told me not to let you go if this shit came back.”

Steve makes no response. Ed lets out a heavy breath, looking to the ceiling.

They have this conversation every now and then – one of those conversations that always teeters on the edge of an argument – in which Eddie insists that Steve could be fine if their relationship ended in a way that Eddie himself would not. It’s a conversation that Steve hates, because he hates the idea that Eddie – his husband of twenty years and the love of his whole entire life – could still be thinking so low of himself, that there’s any part of him that doesn’t think Steve would be fucking wrecked by losing him.

Still, it had always been a hypothetical. It had never been real.

Suddenly, Steve feels claustrophobic sitting on the floor of his daughters’ bathroom. He gets to his feet and, as he heads for the door, Eddie scrambles up after him.

Halfway down the hall, Eddie lunges for him and catches his arm, wheeling him back around to face him.

“Steve,” Eddie says one more time.

Then, because he apparently has no words ready to follow with, he stops.

“Steve,” Eddie starts again, “Please. You’re everything. I love the girls and I love our life, but Christ, Steve, you’re my entire world. You changed everything for me. You showed me how life could be worth living, and you keep showing me, and I’m not ready to let go of you yet – not even fucking close. Please don’t let this be the way we leave each other.”

Steve finally lets himself look at Eddie’s face, the face he’d fallen in love with decades ago, the face he’s still in love with decades later. He looks at his big eyes and the hint of grey at his hairline and his crows feet and the scarring that creeps up his neck from underneath the collar of his shirt (it’s a shirt he’s had for ages – since before even Moe was born by the looks of it, but so is the rest of his half of their closet).

And he finds himself nodding.

Eddie’s exhale is all desperate relief as he tugs Steve into his arms and wraps them around his shoulders. Steve immediately reciprocates the hug, pulling him in even closer, surprised to feel tears pin-pricking his eyes

“I love you so much, Steve,” Eddie tells him, gripping the back of his t-shirt so tight he feels the collar pulling taut against his throat, “I don’t say that to you enough.”

“You say it all the time,” Steve replies with a wet laugh.

“Not enough,” he shakes his head, and Steve decides there’s no point in arguing.

A minute goes by.

“Fuck,” Steve half-laughs, half-chokes as he lifts his head to meet Eddie’s eyes, “This fucking sucks.”

“I know,” he says.

Again, he reels Steve in, and again, Steve lets him, holding onto his husband like a lifeline, like they’re standing somewhere far more perilous than the carpeted floor of their upstairs hallway.

“I know,” Eddie repeats, “And we’ll…we’ll talk about it but for now, just – can I just hold you for a bit, okay?”

Steve nods again.

“Okay.”

read the extended version on AO3 (i.e. feat. added “flashbacks” so it fits the formatting of the rest of the series)

#eddie calls robbie and moe and tells them to come home – not because they actually need to but because ed knows steve needs them home #i slipped in some sneaky dustin/erica how do we feel about that here on tumblr.com?#steddie #liv’s steddie dads verse #steddie dads #steve harrington #eddie munson

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yournowheregirl · 2 years ago

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one hand, one heart

tw: mention of HIV/aids crisis and the general blatant (sometimes violent) homophobia of the 1980s

steve harrington loves musicals.

it’s something he inherits from his mother, something he always shared with her while growing up and his father is at work. she puts on hello dolly! on vinyl and sing along as she cooks, or my fair lady as she cleans out her closet, or the king and i as she does her morning crossword.

steve doesn’t really get the songs at first, but his mother is patient with him, explaining the stories and characters of every musical and replaying his favorite songs when he asks and soon enough, steve finds himself singing and dancing alongside his mother, knowing each and every word.

one night west side story is on tv and his mother allows him to stay up late since his father is away again. they’re huddled on the couch together, throw blanket in their laps and hot cocoa on the coffee table and steve can’t tear his eyes away from the screen. the costumes, the songs, the dancing, he just can’t look away, it’s all so pretty.

the movie gets a bit scary at times. during the big fight scene, he squeezes his eyes shut and ducks away into the safety of his mother’s arms and when tony dies at the very end, there are tears rolling down his face. his mother tries to tell him that it’s just a story but steve knows one thing for certain now.

it’s dangerous to love someone who’s different.

as steve grows up, his mother seems to have less and less time for him - now suddenly joined at her husband’s hip as he goes away on business trips - and their movie musical moments slowly fade away. but it’s fine, steve is at that age that people no longer find it cute when you know every word to don’t rain on my parade. no, when he tells people that, they look at him funny and whisper something that he can’t quite make out.

so he stops talking about musicals all together.

(he still listens to certain albums when he finds himself coming home in the big, empty harrington house once again. it’s comforting, almost like he’s hugging his mother again, but not quite as warm).

he hides his love for musicals throughout most of high school. doesn’t even try out when the drama department is doing a rendition of bye, bye birdie, no matter how much he actually wants to. laughs and lies when tommy finds the sunday in the park with george album in the living room, saying the housekeeper must’ve misplaced it. acts all tough and aloof when nancy asks him to watch grease together, even though he’s watched it four times already.

with all nightmares he gets during year after year of somehow surviving all that upside down bullshit, steve once again turns to musicals when he can’t sleep. usually it’s just a mixtape he made, consisting of his favorite songs that’ll sing him to sleep like a lullaby. but when the nightmares are particularly bad, he drags his duvet all the way downstairs, settles down on the couch and rewatches the sound of music until his eyes start to burn.

no one knows about it. not even robin, even though steve think she might suspect a thing after he suddenly knew exactly who julie andrews was. and he had planned to keep it that way, until one night when he finds himself on the couch once again but this time, in the company of eddie munson.

never in his life would steve have imagined that eddie munson would be one of his closest friends, but stranger things have happened. like dragging eddie’s lifeless body through the literal gates of hell and watching how he miraculously recovered from his near-fatal injuries.

but it’s more than friendship at this point and steve is well aware of that. others may think of him as oblivious but he knows himself. he recognizes that fluttery feeling in his stomach, he felt it dozens of times before. he notices the way his face heats up when eddie calls him sweetheart and lets his hands linger a second longer than necessary.

he knows damn well that he’s crushing on eddie munson and it scares him half to death.

it’s movie night and they’re on the couch together. eddie is flipping through the channels when steve notices a very familiar scene.

“wait, no. go back.” he says, gesturing towards the tv. eddie looks confused but complies anyway, until the opening scene of west side story appears on screen again.

“you wanna watch this?” eddie snorts.

“yeah. it’s good.”

“...right.”

steve is well aware that eddie is even more confused than before, but at least he doesn’t seem to question steve’s sudden interest in the movie. doesn’t tease him about it either, not when steve’s feet start tapping along to something’s coming all on their own and not even when he softly starts singing along to maria.

it gives steve enough confidence to lean in during gee, officer krupke, barely able to hold in his laughter. “twenty bucks say you pulled shit like this with hopper at least once.”

eddie rolls his eyes, but smiles anyway and steve thinks he’s just made easy money, only for eddie to retaliate during i feel pretty. “twenty bucks say you pull shit like this in the mirror at least once a week.”

“fuck off, man.” steve mutters, bumping their shoulders together in an attempt to hide the pink flush that’s spreading across his cheeks.

“no can do, stevie. that song is practically made for you.” eddie grins.

he doesn’t pull away after that. stays right there, glued to steve’s side for the remainder of the movie, which makes it all the more difficult for steve to focus on whatever’s happening on screen.

it’s a good thing steve knows this movie by heart already because it quickly becomes virtually impossible to focus on anything other than eddie when he notices eddie’s hand moving closer and closer towards him on the couch. and as soon as he feels eddie’s pinky finger curling around his own, steve’s pretty sure his brain goes static at the mere feeling of eddie’s calloused fingers against his skin.

now, it has been said that steve is the bravest one out of all of his friends - always throwing himself in danger headfirst to protect the others - but steve can still feel his heart beating in his throat as he lifts his palm and links his and eddie’s hands together. it shouldn’t be as scary as facing a demogorgon, but it’s still the most courageous thing he’s done in a long time.

with one small, almost insignificant movement, steve can suddenly feel eddie’s eyes on him. feels his gaze burning into his skin, though he doesn’t have enough courage anymore to look back at him. instead, he lets outs a shuddering breath and tries to pay attention to the story again.

and even though holding eddie’s hand seemed scary at first, steve soon comes to the conclusion it’s the best decision he’s made in a logn time because it’s just so fucking nice. their hands fit perfectly together and it gives him something to hold onto. an anchor of some sorts to get through the last few emotional scenes of the movie.

eddie’s hand keeps him grounded, keeps him from bursting into tears when tony dies like he did the first time he watched it with his mom. still, that scene does something to him. hits him right in the gut and he can feel himself stiffen as maria finds tony’s lifeless body on the ground. eddie must notice it too, because he squeezes steve’s hand a little tighter, runs his thumb across steve’s knuckles, helps him stay in the moment.

not much later, the credits appear on the screen and steve knows he no longer has an excuse not to look back at eddie. he takes a deep breath and glances to his left and- yup, grave mistake because eddie’s gaping at him, with his dark doe eyes even bigger than usual.

still, steve can’t look away, even though the silence between them stretches longer than it should be. he should say something. anything. ask if he wants something to drink. if he wants to watch another movie. if he-

“steve?”

“yeah?”

“can i kiss you?”

steve just blinks at him, a response of any kind dying on his tongue. fear creeps up on him - what if he’s dreaming, what if eddie doesn’t mean it, not in the way steve wants him to, what if-

but he was brave before, he can be brave again. he meets eddie’s eyes and nods, trusting his body just enough to take over and say what his words can’t.

as soon as he feels eddie’s lips pressed against his own, steve is hyper-aware of every sensation - the lingering taste of diet coke, the slight stubble on his chin, the loose curl that brushes against his cheek. he almost feels like he’s floating, like the fluttering feeling in his stomach has lifted him up and transported him to a world where it’s just eddie and his lips gliding in synch against his own and it feels so, so good.

okay, screw the hand holding - this is the best decision steve’s ever made.

as eddie moves closer and tilts his head to the side to deepen the kiss, steve’s hand find its way to eddie’s chest. he lets it linger over eddie’s heart, almost as if he’s trying to make sure that this is really happening. that eddie is here and he’s alive and he’s kissing him.

it’s only their first kiss but steve decides then and there that he doesn’t want another day go by without kissing eddie. doesn’t want another go by without eddie in it, period.

fuck. this is more than just a crush, isn’t it? this is so much more than that. this is almost like love. this is... this is a lot.

and that’s when it hits him. the message that’s been burned into his brain ever since he saw west side story for the first time - that loving someone who is different is dangerous.

not because he plays a fantasy game that no one seems to understand. not because he listens to metal and sold drugs in his spare time. not because he got falsely accused of murder and the whole town looks at him with disdain.

it’s dangerous simply because it’s another guy.

steve’s not stupid. he reads the newspaper, he watches the news, he knows all about the protests and the hate crimes and the thousands of innocent people dying of a disease that no one seems to care enough about to help.

it’s terrifying to love someone when the entire world seems to be against you.

he doesn’t even realize he’s crying until he tastes the saltiness of his own tears and feels eddie pulling away from him. eddie’s eyes are filled with worry and that’s somehow enough to break steve, the tears just keep coming and coming with no end in sight.

“hey, hey, look at me.” eddie says softly, his hands gently cupping steve’s face. “did i do something wrong? what’s going on, baby?”

steve shakes his head, unable to form any words just yet. there are just tears and sobs and terrifying thoughts of what would happen to them if one of them- no, he doesn’t even want to think about that, it’ll only make him more upset.

“okay, take your time. i’m here.” eddie mutters. he presses a kiss to steve’s forehead, his hands never once leaving steve’s face.

the tears slowly but surely stop after that and steve somehow manages to regain control of his voice, even though it’s raspy and broken.

“it’s just... i just like you so much and it makes me so fucking scared. because what if...” he swallows the lump in his throat again, gasping for air. “what if we end up like them? what if we end up like tony and maria? it just takes one wrong move and we’re- you could- i can’t lose you, eddie.”

“then we’ll go somewhere safer. we’ll go to chicago, or new york, or, or, literally anywhere you wanna go where you feel safe.” eddie says, like it’s the simplest thing in the world. his thumbs wiping away the tears on steve’s cheeks. “it’s like that movie said, y’know. ‘there’s a place for us, somewhere a place for us. peace and quiet and open air waits for us, somewhere.’”

steve’s eyes widen. he blinks once, twice, almost feeling speechless. “you know this musical?”

“i may have seen it before. i was in the drama club after all.” eddie shrugs, but when steve looks at him in disbelief, he sighs and adds: “okay, maybe i rewatched it because i was bored on a saturday once. it’s a good movie.”

“it really is.” steve nods, a small smile playing on his lips.

“we’re gonna be okay, y’know.” eddie assures him. “we survived literal hell, what’s a few bigots in comparison to that?”

steve nods, and as his tears are starting to dry, he’s finally starting to believe that that eddie means it. that he wants him, that he wants them, that he wants a future, together. and that might just be just enough reason for steve to lean back in again and kiss eddie with every ounce of his being, slow and warm and deep until all his worries float away and eddie is the only thing left on his mind.

(and later on, when eddie’s whimpering ‘steve’ over and over and over again, steve fully understands what tony meant when he sang that a name could almost sound like praying)

hi friends! it’s been a damn minute, i’ve been dealing with one hell of a writer’s block but this just appeared outta nowhere so i hope you enjoyed! thanks as always to @legitcookie & @sidekick-hero for their endless support as i went through the five stages of grief every time i attempted to write ilyyy <3

#steddie #steddie ficlet #steddie fanfiction #eddie munson #steve harrington #steve harrington x eddie munson #stranger things #this started as a cute silly little headcanon about momma's boy steve #and then i watched west side story again and it just derailed from there #and then i got in my feels about being queer in the 80s #throws this at you and runs away #alice's writing adventures

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shoujo-wizard · 5 months ago

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I read butter, sugar, and northern mockingbirds by througheden on ao3 before bed awhile ago & now I can't stop thinking abt kitchen witch Steve Harrington & want to make something sweet

This is an omegaverse AU so if u don't like tht don't bother me, I sent an ask with my initial ideas for this to @lexirosewrites & the flavor is steddie with a buckingham palate cleanser but the thoughts r dominated by Steve the kitchen witch

I've changed a few details from my ask

Steve is an omega & a kitchen witch

Robin is an omega & can see/communicate w ghosts

Eddie is an alpha & an co-owner of the new bookstore/record store

Chrissy is an alpha, an occult fanatic, & co-owner of the same bookstore/record store

Steve didn't grow up in Hawkins but in Indianapolis, but he'd visit every summer

Steve Harrington who learned recipes & spells at his grandpa's elbow, in the trailer theyd lived in since they were a young couple, summers spent helping in the vegetable garden & running through the nearby woods w a little boy w wild curls while their guardians gossiped on the back porch

The summer he turned 13 he became a rare case & went through his presentation heat 3 years earlier than the average & afterwards his mother takes him to get omega birth control tht is designed to regulate heats & she stands silently to the side while his father gives him a lecture abt sex in their living room, then they're driving to Hawkins at a later date than anyone wanted

The summer he turned 13 his friend with the wild curls brought him wild flowers & declared his intentions to be his Alpha someday & Steve accepted his suit, when he shared the news with his mother he immediately knew it to be a mistake from her intake of breath & he never got to visit his grandparents after tht summer, not even being allowed to go back to Hawkins for his grandma's funeral not till he's 18 & refusing the mating their all but forcing on him

So he drives to Hawkins with Robin, who he met in a mandatory Omega Health class they both took together. Where they bonded about the embarrassing verbs being used. He ends up inheriting the property and house a year later when his grandpa passes away. The 2 of them move in & make the house more to their tastes while keeping a lot of the original 50s features

Steve soon finds himself baking cupcakes from his grandpa's recipe journal that is meant to bring sweet dreams that night, he goes around to his neighbors & evenly distributes the cupcakes finally coming upon the Munson trailer with a sense of familiarity. Wayne is home & delighted to see Steve is his new neighbor, he & Robin are promptly invited to dinner that Sunday, & Wayne makes a chicken & rice casserole that always pleases others & Steve brings dessert: berry cobbler. Eddie comes home just in time for dinner & time feels like it stops for the two of them as their eyes meet again after years of separation & before dinner is even served Eddie has asked Steve for permission to court him

They have a sweet courtship with Eddie learning that Steve is a witch & he simply takes it in stride & brings him gifts relevant to his talents

They exchange mating bites barely a year later & Eddie happily moves into the trailer with Steve & Robin

#shoujo says #steddie #omegaverse #omega steve harrington #alpha eddie munson

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sidekick-hero · 5 months ago

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I'll keep you like an oath (may nothing but death do us part) - my contribution to the @steddiesummerexchange for @starryeyedjanai can now be read in full 🥰

Pairings: Steve/Eddie, Robin/Chrissy Characters: Steve, Eddie, Robin, Chrissy, Max, Dustin, Wayne Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fake Marriage, Platonic Stobin, Platonic Hellcheer, idiot4idiot, Friends to Husbands to Lovers, Humor and Fluff and a smudge Angst

Summary:

When Steve's grandmother dies, he finds out that he can only get his inheritance - half a million dollars - if he marries someone. It's her way of forcing Steve to live a heterosexual life. Sucks for her that gay marriage has been legalized since she wrote her will. Sucks for Steve that he doesn't have a man or woman in his life to marry. Cue Eddie Munson, roommate and best friend of Robin's girlfriend Chrissy and the guy Steve has had a crush on for years.

What could possibly go wrong?

Read on AO3

Chapter 1| Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4

Chapter 4 (5k) under the cut

The day of the wedding arrives with an almost surreal sense of calm. The venue, a charming garden nestled behind a quaint bed and breakfast just out of town, is adorned with delicate fairy lights and fresh flowers. Eddie stands in front of a mirror in a small, cozy room, adjusting his tie for the tenth time. He takes a deep breath, trying to steady the nervous energy buzzing through him.

Chrissy, his best person, just like Robin is Steve’s, stands beside him, offering a reassuring smile. "You look great, Teddy. Steve’s going to swoon when he sees you.”

He looks at his best friend in the mirror and gives her a small smile. "You know it's not like that, Chris."

She hums. "You keep saying that, but I don't know. Yeah, you're getting married so he gets his inheritance, I get it. But that's not what the way he looks at you says, honey."

"Chris -"

"I'm just saying. He was flirting with you when you two first met, so he must think you're hot."

"Yeah, and I blew it," Eddie reminds her, his voice forlorn. He's still kicking himself over how stupid he was, how prejudiced he was, not realizing that this great guy was hitting on him and blowing his chance by being a jerk to him.

By the time he finally realized that Steve was actually a good guy, he had already backed off and stopped all his earlier attempts to get to know Eddie. Eddie had gotten the message loud and clear. He was too late, and Steve had already moved on.

A knock on the door interrupts their conversation. Eddie is glad, especially when he sees who’s standing in the doorway.

"Wayne!" he exclaims, jumping into the older man's arms. "You made it."

The man’s laughter rumbles against Eddie’s chest. "I told you I would be here, son. It's not every day your nephew gets married, is it?"

Eddie sinks deeper into the warm embrace, inhaling the smell of Old Spice, cigarette smoke, and the laundry detergent his uncle has been using for as long as Eddie can remember. It smells like home.

Eddie reluctantly pulls away from Wayne’s embrace, his heart feeling lighter. “I’m really glad you’re here, Wayne. It means a lot to me.”

Wayne pats Eddie’s shoulder affectionately. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world. Now, where’s this Steve fella I’ve been hearing so much about?”

Eddie’s stomach tightens at the mention of Steve. “He’s probably getting ready~~.~~ Let me introduce you.”

They make their way through the cozy hallways and out into the garden. The atmosphere is cheerful, filled with laughter and the scent of blooming flowers. They turn left to Steve's dressing room and when they knock, Robin answers with a busy expression, a tie pin between her teeth. Eddie spots Steve in front of the mirror, nervously adjusting his tie.

“Steve!” Eddie calls out, his voice steady but with a hint of excitement. He's unexpectedly nervous about introducing Steve to his uncle. Wayne is his only family, the man who raised him like Eddie was his own son, and his opinion means a whole lot to Eddie. He's always wanted Wayne to be proud of him, and he can't help but hope that he'll approve of Steve.

Steve turns, his eyes lighting up when he sees Eddie. He walks over, his smile widening as he notices Wayne but Eddie can tell by the crinkling of his brows and the tense line of his shoulders that Steve’s just as nervous as Eddie is. “Hey, Eddie. This must be your uncle.”

Wayne steps forward, extending a hand. “Nice to finally meet you, Steve. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

That makes Steve pause, even as he reaches for the offered hand. "You did?" he asks, sounding way too surprised and incredulous, and Eddie winces.

Well, yeah, Wayne may have had a front-row seat as he went from being angry about how unfairly hot the jock who invaded their apartment is to being distraught when he realized that said jock is actually really dreamy and sweet and that Eddie is such a fucking idiot for blowing his chance with him.

Not that Steve needs to know any of this. Eddie had told Wayne an only slightly altered version of Steve's cover story, so he hopes Wayne won't bring up Eddie's pathetic pining and mooning.

Steve catches himself, and as he shakes Wayne's hand firmly, his expression becomes warm and welcoming. "I wanted to say: Nice to meet you too, Mr. Munson. Eddie's told me a lot about you, too."

Wayne just chuckles at Steve's fumble. “Please, call me Wayne, you’re part of the family now,” he insists, his eyes twinkling with genuine interest. “So, you’re the one who’s been making my nephew all starry-eyed, huh?”

Eddie feels his cheeks heat up, and he tries to brush it off with a laugh. “Wayne!”

Steve chuckles, a slight blush coloring his own cheeks. “I guess so. Eddie’s been pretty special to me too.”

Wayne’s smile widens, and he looks between the two men with approval. “Well, it’s good to see you two together. Eddie deserves someone who appreciates him.”

Steve’s eyes soften as he glances at Eddie. “I appreciate him more than he knows.”

Eddie’s heart skips a beat at Steve’s words, and for a moment, he almost forgets about the ruse. The sincerity in Steve’s eyes makes him wonder, just for a moment, if maybe he isn’t the only one harboring some very real feelings.

Wayne claps Steve on the back, breaking the moment. “I’m looking forward to seeing you two tie the knot. If you ever hurt him, though, you’ll have to answer to me and my shotgun.”

Steve nods solemnly. “I understand. You have my word, Wayne.”

Wayne gives a satisfied nod before turning to Eddie. “Alright, I’ll let you two finish getting ready. Just wanted to say hi before the ceremony.”

Eddie watches as Wayne heads off to mingle with the other guests, feeling a mixture of relief and anxiety. He turns to Steve, who’s still watching him with that same warm expression.

“You okay?” Steve asks softly.

"Yeah, just nervous," Eddie admits, running a hand through his hair. "This all feels so... real, it's fucking with my head a little bit, I guess. It's weird that our friends and family are all celebrating this special day with so much, I dunno, enthusiasm. They're all so happy for us, Steve."

Steve steps closer and puts a reassuring hand on Eddie's shoulder. "I know. And I feel bad about lying to them, too. I wish we didn't have to, but..." he trails off, and Eddie knows he means to say that he doesn't want to get any more people involved in what is really a scam. But Eddie can't help wishing they didn't have to lie because it's real.

"I get it, Stevie. And I'm fine. All in, right?"

Steve takes his hands and squeezes them. "All in."

The ceremony itself is a quick affair. The officiator is an elderly woman, who speaks in a warm and calm voice about marriage and promises, about sickness and health, about sacrifices and the blessing of a life full of love and joy and laughter. Eddie can hear a few sniffles from their friends and family, but he only has eyes for Steve. Steve, who looks so handsome in his black suit and fitting bowtie, his hair tussled artfully and his hazel eyes shining with emotion. It’s not real, a voice inside his head reminds him, but just for this moment he quiets it and enjoys the feeling of having the man he’s actually in love with look at him like that.

When it’s time for the vows, Eddie’s voice trembles slightly, but his words are steady and heartfelt. He talks about how much Steve has been surprising him again and again, showing him so many unexpected sides of himself. When Eddie had thought Steve to be just another rich asshole jock he’s proven to Eddie how he’s caring and brave, opening his heart to Eddie when all his previous experiences taught him not to.

“And I can’t wait for you to keep me on my toes for the rest of our lives,” Eddie ends. He means it. If he has any say in it, he’ll happily have Steve prove him wrong for as long as he lives.

Steve blinks back tears as he takes Eddie’s hands. His vows sound just as heartfelt, just as real and tomorrow, Eddie will probably overthink what it all means. But today, he lets his heart enjoy them.

After their vows they exchange rings, and the officiant pronounces them married. As they kiss, the garden erupts in applause and cheers and Eddie can hear Dustin whoop and Jeff whistle loudly. He feels a wave of happiness and relief wash over him and sees the same sentiment reflected on Steve’s face.

He nudges him, the grin loud in his voice. “That wasn’t so bad, wasn’t it?”

Steve shrugs, aiming for nonchalant and failing miserably because of the answering grin splitting his face.

“You think your grandma would’ve liked it?” Eddie asks and Steve laughs out loud.

“Oh she would have hated every second of it.”

“Good. That’s good.”

“Yeah, it is.” Suddenly, Steve’s much closer than he had been seconds ago, their noses almost touching. “Thank you, Eddie. For everything.” And then Steve kisses his cheek, his soft lips gracing the arch of his cheekbone in a way that feels more intimate than the quick kiss they exchanged when the officiant told them to.

The reception is a blur of laughter, dancing, and heartfelt toasts. Robin and Chrissy’s are both hilarious, while Wayne chokes up a bit when he asks Steve to take good care of the only son Wayne’s ever had. Steve takes Eddie’s hand and squeezes it while looking at Wayne and promising him to always look out for Eddie and care for him.

Even Captain Hopper says a few words, and Eddie can tell how much that means to Steve.

The night ends when Eddie falls asleep with his head on Steve’s shoulder, slightly drooling on his husband's lapel. Steve half-drags, half-carries him to their room and helps him undress to his underwear before Eddie crawls under the sheets. When Steve offers to sleep on the ground, Eddie is too tired to argue. Instead, he just pulls back the blanket on the other side of the bed and makes grabby hands at him.

Steve chuckles softly and slides into bed next to Eddie. The last thing Eddie feels is Steve’s breath against his nape as he tells him goodnight. He falls asleep with a smile on his face.

The next morning, they enjoy breakfast with their closest friends and family. The air is filled with laughter and the clinking of dishes as everyone shares stories from the previous night. Wayne presents them with their wedding gift - a two-week stay at a cabin situated by one of the Great Lakes in the area. It's the same place where Wayne used to take Eddie for fishing trips when he was a boy.

“The cabin,” Wayne tells Steve, “has always been a special place for Eddie and me. I thought you two could use some peace and quiet after all this excitement.”

Eddie’s eyes glisten as he accepts the gift. “Thanks, Wayne. That means a lot.”

Steve places a hand on Eddie’s shoulder, his own smile warm and genuine. “It sounds perfect. Thank you, Wayne.”

As breakfast winds down, Eddie and Steve find themselves surrounded by well-wishers. They say goodbye to everyone, exchanging hugs and promises of phone calls and visits.

Wayne pats Eddie on the back. "Take care of each other up there. And don't forget to fish.” He adds with a deadpan look.

Eddie groans in embarrassment. "Oh my God."

When everyone but them and Robin and Chrissy have left, Eddie feels a mixture of excitement and nervousness. They're supposed to go back to Steve's apartment, while Chrissy and Robin will go back to Chrissy's apartment. He moved in with Steve the week before, and they both helped Robin move in with Chrissy. He was glad that the wedding had taken up a lot of their time and energy, enough to distract Steve from missing his other half too much.

That will change now, but at least they have two full weeks at the cabin for Steve to get used to having Eddie around a lot more.

The drive to the cabin two days later is filled with lighthearted banter about music and comfortable silences as Steve and Eddie enjoy the scenic views on their way to their destination. It feels easy between them, and Eddie curses himself once again that he could have had this for years. Like Elizabeth Bennet, his own pride and prejudice got in the way.

When they finally arrive, they're greeted by the sight of a quaint cabin nestled on the shore of one of the Great Lakes, its surroundings offering a sense of peace and seclusion. There are no other cabins in sight, and Eddie knows from all the times he's been here with Wayne that the nearest neighbors are about 15 to 20 minutes away on foot, and the nearest store is in a small village about 20 minutes away by car.

"Your uncle was right, it's perfect here after all the stress and excitement of the last few weeks," Steve says as they gather their belongings from the car and approach the cabin. The lake is right in front of them, the sun reflecting off it in a way that Eddie has come to associate with endless summers spent here fishing with his uncle.

"Yeah, don't tell him I said that, but Wayne's usually right about things."

Steve mimics zipping his lips, earning a laugh from Eddie.

As they step inside, they take a tour of the small cabin. There's a decently sized open kitchen and a living room with a small couch and a dining table. No TV, which won’t be a problem because Eddie brought his laptop. The bathroom is equally small but has a rather big walk-in shower, something Eddie can’t help but imagine testing out with Steve. Him on his knees in front of Steve, while droplets of water rain down on them, catching in the thick patch of chest hair and running down towards…

“Eddie,” Steve calls, ripping him from his fantasy.

“What’s the matter?” he calls back, quickly hurrying out of the bathroom and towards the only room they haven’t checked out yet—the bedroom.

Which he quickly remembers has only one bed. Eddie had slept on the couch when he had been still small enough to do so and later on an air mattress they brought along.

Steve glances at him with wide eyes and then back at the small couch in the living room, immediately offering to take it. Eddie shakes his head.

"It's fine, Steve. We've shared a bed before," Eddie tells him with a reassuring smile. His cheeks heat with the memory of Steve’s warm breath against his nape before he fell asleep on their wedding night. When he had woken up the next morning, Steve had already been gone from the bed, something he mourned for the five minutes or so it took Steve to step into their room with only a towel slung around his hips. The sight had been the best consolation prize he could’ve asked for.

Steve looks at him, relieved. "If you say so. Just don't hog all the blankets."

Eddie grins. "No promises."

They unpack their bags and settle in, the cozy cabin quickly feeling like home. The first few days fall into a blissful routine—swimming in the lake, taking long walks along the shoreline, cooking meals together, and watching "Buffy the Vampire Slayer" on Eddie's laptop.

On their second afternoon, while preparing lunch, Eddie tries to impress Steve with his nonexistent proficiency in making pancakes. This earns him the heavenly sound of Steve’s laughter as his sad attempts to flip a pancake end with batter splattered everywhere.

"You're supposed to flip it, not fling it," Steve teases, wiping batter off Eddie’s cheek. Eddie's cheeks heat under his gentle touch.

Eddie chuckles, shaking his head. "Hey, I'm trying. Cooking was never my strong suit."

Steve smiles, handing him another spatula. "Well, lucky for you, I'm a great teacher."

And he is, even if the way he presses himself up against Eddie's back, the way his big hand rests on Eddie's wrist as he holds the pan, is unfairly distracting. Eddie messes up a few more times, mostly because he gets caught up in the way Steve feels, smells, and sounds every time he gives Eddie instructions in a soft yet firm voice.

When Eddie finally gets it right, Steve's praise sears itself into his brain, altering his brain chemistry irrevocably.

“See? You’ve got it!” Steve exclaims, his voice filled with genuine pride.

Eddie grins, feeling a warmth that has nothing to do with the stove. "All thanks to my amazing teacher."

Steve laughs, leaning in close. "I knew you had it in you."

Eddie can’t help but flirt back. "Guess you'll have to keep teaching me things, then."

Steve’s eyes sparkle with mischief. "Oh, I plan to."

They fall into an easy rhythm, working together in the kitchen, their movements synchronized as if they've been doing this for years. The cabin becomes their little sanctuary, where the outside world seems to fade away. It's easy to forget that this is all just part of their ruse because nothing about the way they act around each other feels fake.

One evening a few days later, they walk along the lake, the setting sun casting a golden glow over the water. Steve skips stones across the surface, watching the ripples spread outward, and Eddie is once again reminded of Steve's past as a high school jock. However, the thought doesn't bring up the old resentment. Instead, he feels a little jealous and a lot turned on by the competent way Steve masters things like flipping pancakes or skipping stones.

"You know," Steve says, breaking the comfortable silence, "this place is really special. I'm glad Wayne thought of it."

Eddie nods, admiring the way Steve's eyes reflect the fading light. "Yeah, it brings back a lot of good memories. When I first came to live with Wayne, I was angry all the time. At everyone. Mostly at myself, I guess. It probably wasn't easy for Wayne, the way I shut him out and acted like it was such a burden to live with him. He brought me here about a year after I moved in, and at first, I thought it was his way of punishing me for my bad behavior. Turns out, forced proximity helps you get over some stupid hang-ups pretty quickly. We've been here every year since, until I moved out at 20."

Steve listens to the story in silence. When Eddie’s done, he says, “I’m glad you had Wayne growing up.”

"Yeah, me too. The old man's got a big heart and he loves taking in strays. Before you know it, he'll be calling you ‘son’ and forcing you to watch baseball with him every season.”

“That sounds pretty awesome, actually.”

Eddie laughs. "It is. Though I have to warn you, he's a die-hard Cubs fan. There’s no escape from it."

Steve chuckles, tossing another stone. "Well, I’m a White Sox fan, so I’m sure we’ll have plenty to argue about."

Eddie raises an eyebrow. "Oh, a White Sox fan? This is going to be interesting."

Steve grins. "Trust me, I can hold my own in a baseball debate."

Eddie smiles, feeling a warmth in his chest that has nothing to do with the setting sun. "You're a good guy, Steve."

Steve looks at him, eyes softening. "So are you, Eddie."

They share a quiet smile before continuing their walk, the air filled with the sounds of nature and the occasional splash of a fish jumping.

Eddie cannot remember the last time he felt so at peace with himself and the world.

Later that night, they find themselves sitting side by side on the bed, sharing a bowl of popcorn as they immerse themselves in yet another episode of Buffy. By now it has become part of their routine, all their days ending the same way. The first night, they had kept their distance, but the small screen and the growing familiarity between them soon made them sit closer and closer.

Now their backs rest comfortably against the headboard, their shoulders occasionally brush against each other, and their legs rest comfortably together under the blanket.

"I gotta say, Angel was always meant to be with Buffy," Steve suddenly supplies, apropos of nothing.

Eddie scoffs and turns to look at him in disbelief. "Oh, come on! Are you still stuck in the 90s? Spike was the one for her, no doubt about it."

They both reach for the popcorn bowl, their eyes never leaving the screen as Buffy and Angel dance together at Buffy's prom.

"But, Eddie," Steve insists, "Angel had depth. He understood Buffy's inner turmoil like no one else."

Eddie shakes his head, a smirk on his lips. "Depth? Please. Angel was brooding half the time, and when he wasn't, he was busy being melodramatic about his curse. Spike, on the other hand, embraced his vampiric nature and challenged Buffy in a way that Angel never did."

As the scene ends, Steve gestures to the screen. "But Angel had this epic love story with Buffy! They were soulmates, destined to be together."

"Soulmates, shmoulmates," Eddie retorts, leaning closer to the laptop. "Buffy needed someone who could stand toe-to-toe with her, someone who wasn't afraid to call her out on her nonsense. Spike did that and more."

Steve reaches for the beers on the floor next to him and hands a fresh one to Eddie, who gives him a grateful nudge with his shoulder before taking a sip.

"Yeah, but Angel was her first love. You can't deny the significance of that," Steve argues, taking a sip of his own beer.

The argument makes Eddie smile involuntarily because it's such a Steve thing to say. He's a romantic at heart, one who doesn't do a very good job of hiding it.

Eddie nods in agreement because he can see Steve's point, but then he remembers Steve's story about the first girl he loved and how the breakup left him pretty messed up. "First love doesn't always mean forever love, Steve. Buffy grew, she changed, and so did what she needed in a partner. Spike wasn't always what she wanted, but he was what she needed and I think deep down she knew that and it scared the hell outta her."

Steve looks at him with an unreadable expression and says, "Maybe you're right. I guess love is pretty scary."

Feeling like they're no longer talking about Buffy Summers, Eddie clears his throat awkwardly. "Yeah, it is," he agrees, reaching into the popcorn bowl just to have something to do.

Steve seems to have the same idea, because suddenly their fingers brush against each other as they reach for the same handful of popcorn.

The moment their fingers touch, it ignites a spark, an electric charge that leaves them frozen in the moment, their eyes meeting in the dim light cast by the laptop screen. The world seems to pause, time standing still as Eddie recalls the story Steve had told everyone. It had sounded like such a funny cover story to explain their sudden and unexpected marriage, but now Eddie doesn’t feel like laughing.

His heart hammers against his ribcage as he leans in closer, his gaze instinctively drawn to Steve's lips.

"Steve," he whispers, his voice a soft undertone barely audible against the background noise of the laptop.

"Yeah?" Steve's voice matches Eddie's in volume, his breath a warm whisper against Eddie's skin.

His heart still pounding, Eddie swallows, nerves and anticipation causing his voice to tremble. He knows what he wants this moment to mean, but once he acknowledges it, there's no going back.

Steve's courage must be rubbing off on him because he still asks the question that's been on his mind since their conversation in his apartment. "Do you... do you ever wonder what it would be like if this was real?"

Steve's eyes search Eddie's face, his own a complex mix of hope and uncertainty. Eddie feels like he's seconds away from a heart attack as he waits for Steve's answer. When it comes, Steve's voice is barely audible; Eddie reads it as much from his lips as he hears it.

"Every day."

Hearing Steve's answer, Eddie's breath hitches and he feels a tidal wave of emotions he can no longer suppress. "Me too."

Later, Eddie couldn't tell who leaned in first, and honestly, it doesn't matter because in that moment, it's clear they both want it. As soon as their lips meet, it feels like the universe has aligned and everything falls into place. The way Steve's lips feel against his is nothing short of divine, so maybe Eddie needs to rethink his stance on soul mates and destiny.

While the first press of lips is soft, even tentative, the kiss quickly deepens as they pour years of unspoken feelings into it.

When they finally pull away for air, they are both breathless. Eddie laughs softly, the sound a mixture of disbelief and pure joy.

"Just like your story, huh?" he whispers, the corners of his mouth lifting in a smile.

Steve grins in return, his thumb gently tracing Eddie's cheek in an intimate gesture. "Yeah. Only this time it's real."

"It better be," Eddie says before leaning in to capture Steve's lips once more. They share another kiss, and then another, until the bowl of popcorn between them is forgotten and the laptop screen goes dark.

The next morning, they wake up tangled together under the sheets. Eddie’s head rests on Steve’s broad chest, their legs entwined and Eddie hugging Steve’s torso like a pillow. Steve’s left arm is wrapped around his waist while his right hand cards through Eddie’s hair, indicating he's awake.

Last night was real, is his first coherent thought.

When Eddie lifts his head, he feels Steve’s breath hitch and his arm around his waist tighten. The hand in his hair stops its gentle ministrations, and Eddie makes an involuntary noise of protest.

Steve laughs softly at him and continues. “Morning, sleepyhead.”

“What time is it?” Eddie half asks, half yawns.

“Almost noon. I was waiting for you to wake up because you were using me as your own personal teddy bear and I didn’t wanna wake you.”

Eddie feels his cheeks heat up and hastily tries to untangle himself from Steve, but is stopped by strong arms.

“I wasn’t complaining. In fact, I really like it. You’re cute like that, even when you’re drooling on my shirt.” The soft kiss to his forehead matches the fond tone of Steve’s voice.

Snuggling deeper into Steve’s embrace, he asks, “So yesterday…?”

“...has been something I wanted to do for a long time.”

It’s hard to believe, Steve wanting to kiss him for so long. Maybe for as long as Eddie has wanted to.

“Why didn’t you do it before yesterday then?”

He feels Steve shrug underneath him. “Figured you didn’t want me to. When I tried to flirt with you, get to know you, you made it pretty clear that you weren’t interested. So I stopped. Tried to act like I didn’t think about kissing you every time I saw you.”

This time, Eddie lifts his head to look down at Steve. “I am such a fucking idiot, Steve. You shouldn’t want to kiss me. When we first met I was so sure you were—” he pauses and Steve helpfully adds, “a rich asshole jock.” “Yeah. Took me a while to get over myself and realize you were nothing like that. When I did, it seemed like you already moved on. I was too scared to get rejected, especially because I would’ve deserved it. So I acted like I didn’t think about kissing you every time I saw you.”

Gazing into each other’s eyes, they both burst out laughing.

“God, we’re idiots,” Steve laughs, rubbing his nose against Eddie’s. Then, his eyes suddenly widen. “Max can never find out! I had to promise her that I wouldn’t let this turn into ‘one of those rom-com clichés where everything goes horribly wrong because no one just talked to each other.’”

The sound that leaves Eddie’s mouth is half laugh, half groan. “We shall never speak of this then.”

And just because he can, he steals another kiss from Steve before his face and tone turn sober.

“Only Chrissy and Birdie know about our idiocy. In a way, your story about how we got together is true, just the timeline is a bit different. How about we just come back and live the married life we’re supposed to?”

Wrapping his strong thighs around Eddie’s waist and bringing their groins together, Steve smiles up at him. “I’d love that,” he says, kissing Eddie. Deep and dirty and hungry.

They don’t leave the cabin for the rest of the day.

One afternoon a few days later, lying on a blanket by the lake, Eddie turns to Steve, propped up on one elbow. "What's next on the agenda when we get back home?"

Steve thinks for a moment, then smiles. "Honestly? I don't know. I just want to be with you. We'll figure the rest out as we go."

Eddie feels a warmth spreading through his chest. Still, he has to ask. "Who are you and what have you done to Steve?"

Tracing Eddie's slightly sunburned cheek with his finger, Steve laughs softly. "He just learned that good things can happen when you don't plan for them. Like falling in love and marrying that person before learning that they might even like you back."

"Love you back,' you mean," is all Eddie says. He presses a quick kiss to the soft skin of Steve's stomach before settling back down on the blanket.

As the sun sets, casting a warm glow over the water, they sit in comfortable silence, watching the world change colors.

#steddie #steddie fanfic #steddiesummerexchange #stranger things fanfiction #steve x eddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #my writing

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allthingssteddie · 1 month ago

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Steve’s grandfather died and he inherits a cabin in the middle of nowhere . He wasn’t even expecting to inherit anything because his father was estranged from his grandfather he never even met the guy. When he and his family get back to the house his father Richard is pissed because his younger half brother got all the money and Steve got the family cabin which he thinks it’s owed to him and to get back at Steve he throws him out of the house. When Steve gets to this cabin it’s not what he’s expecting. It’s a wreck and looks like it hasn’t been taking care of in years but he decides him self to fix it up. And over the next couple of weeks as he trying to fix the floor he finds a lose one and he decided rip it up to see a picture of a young man with blonde hair who looks similar to his dad and with that young man is a another one who’s sticking his tongue out to the camera. And next to this picture was an oil lamp it looked ancient to him he wasn’t sure what to do with it . Then suddenly he hears a crash outside which startled him and he ends up breaking it. That night, as he drifted off to sleep, he noticed a faint glow emanating from the corner of his room on the rocking chair. He goes to scream but he can’t he feels if his lips have been sealed. . It was the young man he saw in that picture, dressed in ancient attire, with piercing eyes that seemed to hold a deep sorrow.

Why did you betray me, Paul?" the genie whispered.

Steve trembled. "Betray you? How, man? I don’t even know you.”

Eddie gaze intensified. “Don’t pretend you don’t know who I am. You told me you wouldn’t put me back In that trap that your last wish would be to set me free. I trusted you… and you promised me…” Eddies voice cracked.

Eddie leans forward, his face inched from Steve’s. Suddenly he realizes that it’s not actually Paul it’s some one who’s looks similar to Paul.

So Paul Steve’s grandfather is building his house one day and comes across this oil lamp it’s rusty and has something engraved on it he can barely make it out what says as he trying to read the words he steps on something which the lamp fall to the ground smashing into pieces. He ends up cutting his thumb and goes back to the house to wrap it up but when he goes outside he sees the lamp still intact but feels a presence behind him and it’s Eddie and over the years when Paul finds a loop hole in wishing for more Paul manipulates Eddie and all Eddie wants is of be free from the oil lamp he’s promised by Paul he will help him but never does but Eddie believes him because he’s in love with him. But there’s a happy ending because Eddie and Steve fall in love.

I could add more but I don’t want this post to be to long it’s just a idea I had just came up now it’s not as organized but I just love the idea of Eddie as a genie.

#stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #steve x eddie #steddie #steddie fic #steddie fandom #steddie ao3 #gay eddie munson #steddie idea #eddie munson lives #eddie munson fluff #soft steddie #steddie fanfiction #steddie imagine #steve harrington parents #steddie prompt #steddie au #steve and eddie

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wardenparker · 1 year ago

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Vampire Waltz - ch 2

Max Phillips x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

A mysterious inheritance, sprawling mansion, eccentric roommates, friendly bat, and coven of New England witches are the newest chapter of your life after being unceremoniously dumped and kicked out by your boyfriend. For Max, the biggest change in his life is you, and what exactly he's going to do about the fact that he is stuck living with you as long as his sire continues to punish him for that incident at his last office...

Rating: Mature, but this blog is always 18+ Word Count: 10.1k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: deceased parents, cursing, food, blood and blood drinking, depictions and references to abusive relationships.* Blood consumption, mention of deceased family members, trauma responses by an abuse victim. Summary: Meeting your new roommates is an exercise in opposites. Notes: Introducing Max and Eddie! And a photo of the dining room to boot 🍷

Ch 1

It's a long day of getting lost in your own house when you finally venture out of your room later, and even though the house is large it is still inviting. That gray bedroom upstairs feels like it's meant for someone and you just can't put your finger on who. The statues in the marble hall beside the library seem to want to leap to life. Every book on every shelf is just begging to be read. Mrs. Taylor is kind enough to make you a light but delicious lunch and reminds you that you can do whatever you like in your own house when you sheepishly ask if it's okay to eat it in the library.

After spending about an hour in the evening walking around the grounds – all fourteen enormous acres of grounds – you come back inside to find a cup of hot cocoa waiting for you in your room and you park yourself very firmly on the chaise by the window just like Renee had suggested. Everything is quiet as the sun goes down, and only afterward do you hear movement elsewhere on the floor.

Eddie groans as he opens his door and drops the bag of books by the door. His professors are assholes and the classes are boring but he hates the idea of going to the advisors and changing his classes even more, so he's stuck for the next semester at least. "What a day." His comment is directed towards no one, he hadn't even sought out Mrs. Taylor or Renee when he got here. Wanting to just shut himself away and forget the tantalizing smell of human for a bit.

“I’m sorry?” You were standing in the hall when you heard the words, just a bare and exasperated sigh, but you’re more afraid of making one of these men angry by lurking around than you are of what they might say if you introduced yourself so you put your courage to the sticking place and knock on the door frame that you saw the young man head toward.

"Oh!" Eddie whirls around, and it's a moment before he tilts his head in confusion and curiosity. "I didn't know anyone else was up here." He admits, his long, lanky form folding in on itself in that awkward way that the youthful still carry until they are comfortable in their own bodies. Shooting you a self-deprecating grin, he shrugs. "Sorry."

“Don’t be. I’m the one who surprised you, not the other way around.” You’re only half visible at the corner of the door frame and – after a second of internal debate – step out fully into view and introduce yourself.

“Oh! You’re the new owner.” Eddie eyes light up and he rushes forward to greet you. Instead of shaking your hand, he pulls you into a brief hug, only remembering you know nothing about him when you stiffen immediately. “Sorry.”

"I just got here this morning." He seems friendly but you weren't expecting the hug at all and you freeze when he squeezes you. "Are you...um...Mrs. Taylor said the other residents were named Max and Eddie?"

“I’m Eddie.” He steps back and searches your face, aware that you are on edge and despite his youthful face, he’s older and more experienced than he appears. “Nice to meet you.”

"It's nice to meet you, too." At least, it is so far, and you have no intention of being rude. "Did you...know Ms. Brown very well?" It feels odd to call her your great-aunt considering you had no idea who she was before she died, so you'll stick to her name for now.

“Cookie? Yeah.” He smiles fondly at the thought of the old bird and chuckles. “I spent hours listening to her stories. She was a hoot.”

Renee seemed to have a similar reaction of nostalgia when asked about the previous owner, and that makes you relax a little. Obviously the people that surrounded her were glad to know her, which is a very good thing. "I wish I could have known her."

Eddie’s face falls slightly, remembering that you were never in contact with Cookie and why. He doesn’t know the complete story but he has just enough of an idea to be sorry about it. “I’m sure that you would have liked her.”

"I'm sorry," you fidget slightly and frown. "I didn't mean to upset you."

“You didn’t.” Eddie is jumping to reassure you. Not wanting you to feel bad about anything that was beyond your control. “Sooooooo…” he shoves his hands in his pockets. “How do you like it so far?”

"The house is beautiful." That is an understatement, but since you're sure he's just being polite to his new roommate you don't want to gush in detail. Instead you narrow it down to a single question. "That...that little house thing out on the grounds." It looked like a little cottage, with flowers carefully planted in specific patterns out in front and two statues of life-sized bunnies sitting sentinel at the opening of the brick wall. "Do you know what it is? Or...what it was used for?" You hadn't dared to go in, but ever since you walked away from it, you wish you had tried the doorknob.

"It used to be Cookie's teahouse." Eddie tells you, lighting up with a smile. "Do you want to go see?" He asks, motioning towards the window. "I can come with you. I spent a lot of time there with her when the weather was nice. She would love to sit out there and have tea and smell the flowers from the gardens."

"Would that be okay?" It's still all new to you – the idea that you actually own this place and aren't encroaching on someone else's space – and the question is automatic.

"Of course." Eddie senses that you aren't used to being allowed to do things, and he wants to frown, but he also doesn't want you to think that he's upset again. "We could have tea out there sometime if you like the place." He offers.

"That...actually sounds really nice." He's so friendly. And seems so normal. It's an enormous comfort after the upheaval of the last few days. "I don't want to step on anyone's toes or be in the way. But tea sounds really nice."

"How are you going to step on anyone's toes?" He asks incredulously. "You are the boss." That might not have sunk in for you, but Eddie is happy to remind you. He's not sure if Max would or not. "Come on, let's go adventure."

"You and Max have been living here for a while already." It doesn't matter that you don't know for sure about the ‘a while’ part, but you're certain they've been here longer than a single day and that gives them rank in your mind. Nevertheless, you let Eddie snag your arm and steer you back toward the great hall and the master stairwell.

"Max and I are actually pretty good roommates." He assures you. "We aren't loud, although we do stay up late. But we don't hold wild parties and act crazy."

"I usually stay up late, too." Never having been a morning person, you had tended to gravitate towards things that happened at night instead of in the brightest part of the day. Until Derek, of course. He had encouraged you to find something full-time with regular hours, and that had meant a 9-5. "Are you a student?" You had seen the Salve Regina University notebook on his desk when you looked into his room earlier, and there was a large bookbag in his room just now when you met him.

"I am." He groans quietly, rolling his eyes playfully as he looks over at you. "It's soooooo much fun." He complains. "No, it's not really bad, but I'm just in that slump that comes with hating all your classes one semester."

“I remember that.” You nod a little as you head down the stairs together. Now that you’ve walked around it a few times, the house is getting a little easier to navigate. “That was spring semester of sophomore year for me.”

It doesn't help that Eddie feels like he's been in school forever, but he nods. "So what is your favorite part?" He asks. "The house I mean."

“The library, I think.” It’s certainly the place you spent the most time today, besides your own room. “I can’t believe it actually has a ballroom, though.” The dark wood frames of the yellow floral furniture caught your eye every time you passed them today and always made you smile privately. “I can’t imagine it gets used much anymore.”

"It could be." Eddie chuckles. "I bet if you talked to the right people, that ballroom would be filled with people who want to pretend to be a part of the gilded age, or are just nosy." He hums. "Or just really like canapés."

“I wouldn’t even know where to start.” It does make you smile though, the notion of a party that big, rather than being sad that you can’t think of a single person you would actually invite to it. Your only family were your parents and they died just before you started college. And any friends you made during that time stopped talking to you years ago.

"Friends will come out of the woodwork." Eddie does frown slightly at that, hoping that you aren't hurt by social climbers and people with less than honest intentions. He doesn't think that it would be allowed for long if he's honest. "Just make sure that you don't offer money to anyone."

“I’ll take your word for it.” He seems to be speaking from experience, or at least authority, and you nod. “So…can I ask how you knew Cookie? It’s just…I really know nothing about her and then she went and left me all of this. I wish I could have met her at least once.”

"Through my...father." He admits. "Adoptive." He shrugs slightly. "It's kind of hard to explain, but I've known Cookie since I was a kid." That's true in a manner of speaking. "She is the one who taught me my manners."

“Well, she did a very good job.” You won’t pry into his background at all. Families are always complicated. “It seems like manners were kind of her thing? Mrs. Taylor implied that, anyway.”

"Yes and no." Eddie grins again. "Manners were always important until it was time to be impolite." He intones seriously, quoting Cookie. "Be friendly to everyone, but prepare to tear them apart."

“Be friendly to everyone but prepare to tear them apart.” Repeating the quote paints a picture of a very interesting lady and you think back a little. “Sort of like… If you don’t have anything nice to say, come sit by me, that Alice Roosevelt Longworth quote. They have the same energy.”

"Exactly." Eddie laughs and the two of you are out the front door of the house and down the steps to walk across the manicured lawn.

“Sounds like she was fun.” And for some reason that draws a pang of something like regret or longing from you.

"Hopefully we can provide you that same energy." He supplies with a smirk. "Or at least not annoy you."

“It takes a lot to annoy me.” If it didn’t, you can’t imagine what your life would have been like before now.

"I don't know." Eddie chuckles. "You haven't met us when we want to be weird." He teases, hoping to get a laugh out of you. You seem like you need to laugh more.

“Do your worst,” you challenge good naturedly, just wanting to put him at ease. He’s nice. Nice and normal. And you’ve been missing normal in your life.

“You asked for it.” He warns playfully. Leaning in, he drops his voice to a whisper. “I drink milk in my tea.”

Taken aback by yet more normalcy, you end up giggling along with Eddie as you walk through the grounds together. It’s after dark and the moon is bright tonight, shining down on the grass everywhere. It isn’t late yet, barely close to dinner time, but the moon is out. “I’ll never tell,” you promise him with a laugh. “Because I do, too.”

“Well damn.” He snaps his fingers in disappointment. “I was hoping to show you how odd I was.”

“I’m afraid you’re going to have to work a little harder than that,” you tease as the little teahouse comes into view.

“If you wanted to decorate this space, there’s furniture in the attic.” Eddie tells you. “Both in the main house and the carriage house.”

“No one would mind?” Again, your first instinct is permission.

His laughter is soft, not wanting you to feel foolish about your consideration of others. “No. I’ll help you move anything you want. And Renee would love to organize.”

“Maybe…” You tilt your head, glancing over at Eddie while you walk but refocusing when the little stucco teahouse comes up in front of you. It’s surrounded by a little brick wall and has little porthole windows and a cute, dark green door that you fell in love with immediately. “Maybe next time you have a day without classes?” You ask, not wanting to put him out but loving the idea of a space like this to make a sanctuary out of.

“I have half days on Tuesdays and Thursdays.” He pipes up. “And of course the weekends. No classes then. So ask for help whenever and I’ll give you a hand.” He reaches for the doorknob. “I’ve always imagined it as a witchy little cottage.”

It feels so much less proper than the house when Eddie opens the door to let you both in. Sure there is a little table covered with a lace doily, but the single light hanging from the ceiling and the mahogany and crimson velvet seats are all extremely gothic. It looks like something plucked out of an Anne Rice novel. “Oh…it’s perfect!” You sigh out immediately, the gut reaction to the space overwhelming you. Little shelves hold some books and photographs, and you pause with your fingers nearly touched a polished silver framed photo of a woman who looks like she’s in her fifties with a young girl in her lap. They look wonderfully happy, but something about it strikes you as odd. Not that you can put your finger on it, but it’s there all the same.

Eddie shuffles slightly as you study the picture. “So, uh, how do you like it?” He asks, rushing forward to open the little stove door that’s sitting in the corner. “She liked making her tea right here. Drove Mrs. Taylor crazy because she wanted to make it for her, but she would just cackle and send her back to the house for cookies and sandwiches.”

“It sounds like she was happy here.” Which is something that is becoming surprisingly important to you, the more you learn about this absent relative. “That makes it even better.”

"This is the spot that she met her soulmate." Eddie tells you. "At least, that's what she said." He doesn't know how much to tell you, so he keeps it vague. Knowing that things will be revealed to you later. When you've settled in.

“Right here?” You look around you, wondering if you are remembering wrong. You could have sworn the lawyer said her soulmate built the house for her. “Is…that why he built her the house?”

"Yes." Eddie shrugs slightly. "She didn't talk about it much. But she told me that one day when she was feeling nostalgic about the past."

“I think finding your soulmate is one of those things you’re supposed to feel a little nostalgic about forever.” Although that does make you shrug, and you shove your hands in your pockets as you pace around the small interior of the teahouse. “I’m guessing.”

Eddie just hums, unsure of what to say to that. He doesn't want press in case you have hard feelings about your soulmate. "What do you think about the space?"

“I think it’s cozy.” Looking around you, you can see the threads of a happy, comfortable life and feel a pang of longing… or maybe jealousy. Wishing you had your own soulmate to share all this with. Whoever they were, their marks had disappeared about four years ago. “And that if no one truly minds, I think I might like to spend some time out here while the weather is still good.”

"You can spend time wherever you wish." Eddie smiles. "When the weather is cold, I'll help you build up little fires in the stove." He promises. "You'd be amazed how warm it gets out here."

“I guess I should buy snow boots?” In Tennessee they were never necessary. “When does winter start around here?”

"Whenever it wants to." Eddie jokes with a laugh. "Don't worry. I think there are about five hundred pairs in the mud room."

“Hopefully we’ll have plenty of time.” It’s not even October yet and the crisp autumn air whips through the little room little a tease, bringing some fallen leaves with it.

"The days will be shorter soon." Eddie looks forward to it and he grins at you. "Do you like Halloween?" He asks curiously.

“Love it.” It lights you up from the inside, a mention of your favourite day of the year. Any mention of it. “It was a big thing in my house growing up so I kind of grew up into a horror moving loving, pumpkin spice drinking, vampire loving, spooky girl.” It hadn’t been Derek’s thing at all so you had been keeping it bottled up for years. Now that you’re on your own? Who knows. Maybe it’s time to start living like a ‘spooky bitch’ like your friends in college used to say. Like the witch your parents raised you to be.

"We should decorate the manor!" Eddie immediately grins, excited about the prospect. "It's the perfect backdrop for spooky shit."

“How would our third roommate feel about that?” You ask, knowing full well that not everyone is into Halloween.

"Max?" Eddie tilts his head and chuckles. "He'll love it. The cheesier the better."

******

The half hour or so you spend outside walking the grounds with Eddie is surprisingly calming. He's excitable and not pushy at all, ready to fill awkward silences with friendly babble until you stumble across another topic you both enjoy. When you meander back to the house you find a focused Mrs. Taylor setting the dinner table for three. "Ms. Brown served dinner precisely at seven o'clock," she tells you with an expectant look. "Will that be acceptable for you as well, ma'am?"

"Of course." Far be it from you to change a routine, especially one that you have no stake in. Before now you had been eating dinner at the exact moment Derek got home from work – no matter when that was. "Should we..." you look between Mrs. Taylor and Eddie uncertainly. "Are we expected to change?" Not that you have any nice clothes, but things are very traditional here...

"No." Eddie supplies that answer, knowing that if Mrs. Taylor had her way, she would have you changing into evening dresses. She was a stickler for propriety in some ways, even more than Ms. Brown. "We don't change for dinner."

"Just checking." Although for some reason it makes you feel stupid to have even asked, and you check your watch instead. "I'll be back in ten minutes and not a moment later, Mrs. Taylor. I promise." You'll trade your shoes for slippers and your jacket for a sweater, and be back downstairs in no time. Something tells you that the extremely proper housekeeper wouldn't like to be kept waiting for even five seconds.

Mrs. Taylor nods but Eddie is the one that answers. "Take your time." He assures you. "I want to talk to her about my protein shakes." He's already figured out that you will continuously ask permission and he wants you to feel comfortable here for your first dinner.

"How was she in the garden?" Mrs. Taylor asks, once you are out of sight and she can hear your feet creak on the stairs.

"Unsure of herself." Eddie tells her seriously, frowning slightly as he looks towards the stairs. "Scared. I don't think she's been treated very well."

"She's been skittish all day. I wasn't sure if it was nerves at first but it seems to be more than that." The older woman shakes her head sadly and goes back to carefully setting out drinking glasses on the table. No wine glasses, since you had said that you don't drink, but a goblet for water and a tall glass for the iced tea recipe she had dredged out from a party decades ago.

"She's been asking permission to do anything." He confirms. "Even doing anything with the teahouse." He shakes his head. "She owns this place is asking permission to go upstairs before dinner."

"It's not exactly subtle." The housekeeper agrees, moving on to the next place setting in her exacting way. "And when she told me that she doesn't drink alcohol, I could smell the fear on her." She tuts softly, shaking her head again and making sure that your place setting at the head of the table is perfect. "Poor thing."

“Max isn’t going to like that.” Eddie knows that Max likes to uphold a certain image. “Hopefully he’s not going to scare her too badly.”

"I guess we'll see." It certainly wouldn't be the first time that Max Phillips had scared a young lady inside this house, and she's certain it wouldn't be the last. "It'll probably bother him more than I won't be serving wine at dinner anymore. Not if the lady of the house isn't partaking."

“Yeah.” Eddie rolls his eyes and hopes that Max is on his best behavior tonight. If he’s not, the old man will be pissed.

“You know your father has asked for reports?” She raises one eyebrow in Eddie’s direction but continues her work studiously. In under two minutes, she’ll have to go back downstairs. “So he needs to be. I won’t lie for him.”

“That’s between him and the old man.” Eddie holds up his hands to signify he’s not getting in the middle of this. “I just wanted her to feel like she has a friend here.”

“That’s very good of you.” She’s always liked Eddie, and things like this are a good example of why. “I’ve got to go finish dinner. Will you intercept him at the door in case he’s forgotten what day it is?”

“On my way to stand guard.” He throws Mrs. Taylor a snappy salute and disappears towards the door even though he can hear Max’s car from a mile away.

******

The stone lions by the from door are a lasting part of the Victorian air of the house, and Eddie is sitting on the step between them when Max finally starts walking up from the carriage house. He swears that obnoxious sports car gets louder every day, but it’s probably just his perception. Eddie’s little car isn’t showy on purpose.

“Did Mrs. Taylor throw you out for not shining your shoes?” Max snorts as he walks up to the younger vampire. He straightens his tie and brushes off some lint from his suit. “Is she serving AB negative today?” He asks. “The positive upset my stomach the other day.”

Eddie sighs, shaking his head at his adoptive brother and pulling himself to his feet. “Max,” he huffs, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “What day is today?”

“It’s…” Max frowns slightly. “Friday. There’s a big orgy tonight at the office. You wanna come?” His brows lift up, since he knows that isn’t Eddie’s scene. It’s not been his scene in a while too, if he’s honest.

“No.” The seemingly younger of the two shakes his head again. “No, I don’t want to come, but technically yes it is Friday. More importantly, though, it’s her first day here.”

“Shit.” The grin slides off Max’s face and he shakes his head. “She’s here? I didn’t think she would be here now. What the hell did she do? Jump in her car and race here to claim her inheritance?”

“I don’t think that’s quite it.” Eddie admits, though he hasn’t worked out all the details. “She’s not greedy or anything.”

He doubts that, but Eddie is always the glass half full type. “So what’s she like? Pretty? Nah, I don’t want you to tell me.” He grins. “Better to be surprised.”

“Be nice!” Eddie practically begs, knowing Max hardly ever is. “Mrs. Taylor and Renee already like her.”

“Great.” Max rolls his eyes, fully aware that Mrs. Taylor and Renee like adopting pet projects. So now he’s fully expecting some socially awkward wallflower who couldn’t interest a plastic bag to stir in a windstorm.

“And the old man is getting reports from Mrs. Taylor,” Eddie warns. “So be nice.”

Max rolls his eyes again. “When am I not nice?” He asks sarcastically.

“Literally always.” Eddie sighs as Max pushes past him into the house without another care in the world.

He doesn’t know why this is such a big deal. Humans aren’t interesting, at least not anymore. His priorities and attitude changing since that little incident four years ago. Cooling his jets here as a form of punishment ever since. “Honey, I’m home.” Max calls out loudly as he saunters into the house.

The sound of an unfamiliar voice echoing up through the atrium catches your attention, and a curl of dread rolls through you before you pull on your sweater and head back to the stairs. No one has given you any reason to dread and yet you can’t help it — worried that the so far manageable bubble of your new life will be punctured at any second. Nothing ever stays happy, or even pleasant, for too long. You pace out to the master stairwell and wrap your cardigan around yourself like a security blanket as you go down to the dining room. Don’t project. You’re overreacting before there is anything to react to…

The problem with Max Phillips is that he knows he’s cute, and because of that, he thinks he can get away with a lot. Partly because of being in that douchey frat boy stage when he was changed, and partly as a protective front he’s adopted. “What’s for dinner? I’m starved.” His chuckle rolls out behind his question, a little darker than normal.

“Hello?” From the stairs you can’t see Eddie or Mrs. Taylor anywhere, but it’s one minute until seven and you already know that Mrs. Taylor likes to be precise.

“Hello.” Max, despite what Eddie thinks, is polite. His version of polite. “Come on down and play.” He calls out teasingly.

“You…must be Max?” There’s something about him that unsettles you at first, until you turn the corner and find someone extremely handsome standing at the bottom of the stairs in a three-piece suit. This is your other roommate?

“The one and only.” He waggles his brows at you and winks. Looking you up and down and approving of what he’s seeing.

“I—it—it’s nice to meet you.” At the bottom of the stairs you can tell that he’s more physically imposing than he seemed from the platform, and your shoulders round in on themselves in response. Making yourself smaller is an automatic reflex that you don’t even notice anymore. “I’m Dolly.” Who knows why you do it. Why you introduce yourself with your nickname when you had been perfectly fine meeting Eddie with your own full name an hour ago. Who knows? But it’s that name that tumbles out of your mouth instead and that is that.

“Dolly?” His brows shoot up and his grin slowly stretches his face as he feels the need to tease you. “Yes you certainly are, sweet cheeks. Not nearly the boring little drab spinster I was imagining. Timid, but I don’t mind that.”

It might be the glee in his voice that makes you already wish you could take back the ‘nice’ part of ‘nice to meet you’, because you immediately feel like you’re on the defensive again. Like he’s a predator and you’re prey. Which is just a weird, uncomfortable thought to have immediately upon meeting someone, but you know without a doubt that if you try to get around him right now he’ll block your path. Instinct tells you so. “It’s just a nickname,” you murmur, unsure of what to do now and feeling that fight or flight instinct scratching at the back of your mind.

“It suits you.” He tells you, giving you his most charming smile as he steps closer to you. “How are you enjoying being here? Isn’t this house to die for?”

"It's very beautiful." That can't be denied, and you enjoyed looking around the grounds so much. "I think...it's..." you swallow and your eyes drop to the floor. "We should go in to dinner?"

“It’ll hold.” Max shrugs, unconcerned with that Mrs. Taylor would say. He leans in and inhales the sweet, cloying scent you are wearing, instantly addicted to it. “You smell delicious.” He groans. “What are you wearing?”

“It’s…just a spray…” No expensive bottled perfume has been in your bathroom since before your mother died, and you struggle to remember the name of the Bath & Body Works scent you have on with the clouding proximity of this intimidating man. “Vampire Blood? I think that’s what it’s called?”

“Mmmmmmhhhh, my favorite scent.” Max can’t help but lean in again, brushing his nose against your neck as he invades your personal space.

The way your pulse jumps at the touch has your whole body recoiling in response. Equal parts flight response and confusion are at war in you, and for a second you almost thought you enjoyed the touch. That’s impossible, you tell yourself sternly. Being touch starved and enjoying it are two different things.

Max leans back, resisting the urge to frown at the mixed signals your body is giving him. He can hear the way your heart sped up and smell the way your cunt reacted, but your body recoils like he is disgusting. Instead he grins and winks at you. “Shall we eat?” He asks.

“Sure.” The suggestion is welcome, and when he finally shifts aside to let you past, you move like lightning. Eddie is already in the dining room, chatting amiably with Renee as she pours cold drinks. The younger woman smiles when she catches sight of you and excuses herself to go downstairs, ready to tell Mrs. Taylor that everyone has assembled for dinner.

“Where’s the wine?” Max asks immediately, looking around at the lack of additional glasses.

“Dolly doesn’t drink.” Eddie answers immediately, having seen the discomfort in your eyes as soon as you walked in. “So Mrs. Taylor won’t be serving wine with dinner. Period.”

“Awwww really?” Max looks back at you and pouts, obviously unhappy at that news.

“I—” instantly coiling in on yourself again, you realize in the same second - to your horror - that both men have sat down on the sides of the table, putting you at the head. For a woman who has spent the last several years learning how to become part of the wallpaper, this is your worst nightmare. “I didn’t mean for everyone else to have to stop,” you murmur, although you know the smell of it will do awful things to your panicky self. Just because Derek drank too much doesn’t mean everyone else will…give them a chance to prove your fears wrong…

“No.” Eddie shakes his head adamantly and shoots Max a pointed glare. “We don’t have to drink.”

Max snorts, leaning back in his chair. “You don’t drink champagne?” He demands, waiting until you shake your head no. “No hot toddy when you’re sick? Or a little splash of Irish whiskey in your tea on a blistering day?”

“No.” His ability to make you feel small is uncanny and unwelcome, and your eyes cast down at the table. “Not anymore.”

“Pity.” Max throws you a faux pout and then looks over at Eddie. “So, how was your day?” He asks sing-songy. “Mine was great. I sold a ten-million-dollar contract on a bunch of shit.”

“Classes aren’t great,” Eddie shrugs and brushes it off, more concerned with the way that you implied there is a reason you don’t drink. Like something happened. “Spent some time out in the teahouse this afternoon. We talked about decorating for Halloween.”

“Halloween?” Max hums, looking around the room to see if Mrs. Taylor is having a stroke. “Good idea. Maybe we can have a haunted house.”

“Whatever the lady of the house decides.” Appearing as if from nowhere with the first course, Mrs. Taylor sets a plate of beef tartare with crostini in front of each of you. “Ms. Brown threw a very dignified masquerade ball in the autumn every year for decades.”

Max rolls his eyes and snorts. “When was the last time that happened?” He asks sarcastically.

“Not so long ago that I don’t remember.” Mrs. Taylor answers primly, neatly leaving out the fact that her memory stretches much longer than her appearance would make anyone think. “They were beautiful, those parties,” she hums before slipping out the door again.

“Boring.” Max huffs and taps his fingers on the table. “We should have it gothic spooky. Black candles and haunted rooms.” He grins. “Vampires.”

“If you think people would enjoy it…” The dish in front of you is familiar only in the sense that you can identify what it is from cooking shows, not that you’ve ever had it before. But you would never insult someone who has cooked for you by not eating what is served. “They’ll be your guests, not mine. All the people I know here are in this house.”

“I think that we should have a masquerade again.” Eddie interjects. “I am sure that all of society here would love to come to a ball.”

“Is there really society left?” It’s a genuine question, since you don’t know anything about this kind of life. For all you know, real rich people still eat seven course dinners and sending their kids to European boarding schools.

“I’m sure that it’s not what it once was, but yeah.” Eddie hums. Max nods. “Plenty of movers and shakers. If they know that this place is open for a party, they will come.”

“It’s something to consider, then.” A masquerade brings fantasies of dancing to mind for you, but they’re ones you’ll drown in privately. It’s been a lot of years since you danced, especially in a ballroom of any kind.

There’s a small silence as the conversation lulls. “Sooooo.” Max starts. “How about a toast?” He holds up his glass that doesn’t have wine. “To Cookie. Maybe there’s a point to bringing us all together that we can’t see right now.”

“If anybody had a plan up her sleeve, it was Cookie.” Eddie agrees, picking up his glass.

Whatever the point was or is, you can only hope it becomes apparent soon. But you raise your glass anyway, feeling like it’s the least you can do to toast the woman who left you everything and very literally changed your life. “I wish I could have met her,” you admit, a crack of a smile peeking through your expression. “But I’m very grateful for what she’s done.”

“I’m sure you are.” Max chuckles. “It’s not every day you’re given a mansion and a fortune. Got plans for it? Or still in shock?”

“I suppose you wouldn’t believe me if I said that I’m not the sort of person who dreams about being rich.” The first course of your dinner is only a few bites, but already you’re feeling like you won’t want more. The conversation has turned your stomach.

“Why not?” Max looks positively offended by the idea that someone wouldn’t dream of being rich. “Do what you want, when you want? Answer to no one? That’s the dream, baby.”

“For some people.” You nod, but only vaguely, knowing that you aren’t one of them. “And that’s fine. But not everyone wants to be king of the castle.”

“Queen.” Max pips up. When you tilt your head in confusion, he chuckles. “You’re obviously not a man, so you would be the queen of this castle.” He winks and smirks at you suggestively.

“But—” But you just said that was something that you did not want, so the feeling of being ignored and feeling stupid about it seeps deep into your bones like it has every other time before. “I—I guess. You’re…you’re right.”

“‘Course, I’m right, Dolly.” He hums in amusement. “Got an MBA in business. Hard not to be right.” There’s something vulnerable about you and he doesn’t know why he keeps pressing, but that douchey armor seems to be strong today and Max is a man who rolls with it rather than sitting and self-reflecting.

“Queen Dolly.” Eddie tries, trying to get Max to back the fuck off a little and you to at least smile. He feels weirdly protective of you since this afternoon. Like a big brother, even though he isn’t very protective of his actual adoptive siblings at all. They can all fend for themselves — it’s pretty obvious that you can’t or won’t for whatever reason.

“That’s a nickname.” Max grins. “Queenie. Yep. I like that.” He raises a brow at Eddie, as if challenging him as he looks back at your timid features. “All hail, Queenie. Ruler of the mansion.”

Instantly regretting saying anything, all Eddie can really do is shake his head. Once Max latches on to something there’s no going back. “That means you gotta listen to her,” he reminds Max pointedly.

“Oh I’ll be her subject.” Max chuckles dirtily. Even if he’s the one that likes to be in charge, he can pretend.

“That won’t be necessary.” As attractive as he might be, the lewdness and arrogance does nothing for you. Not anymore.

Rejection isn’t something that Max is unused to, but still, yours stings for some reason. That, more than any harsh looks from Eddie, makes him quiet down. Going silent through the rest of the course.

Mrs. Taylor re-emerges a few minutes later with plates laden down with filet mignon, cheesy potatoes gratin, and beautifully cooked broccoli rabe and sets one in front of each of you after clearing away the empty appetizer plates. You murmur your thanks, noticing that the steaks she set in front of both men are barely cooked, but that yours looks like it came straight out of a cookbook. Picture perfect. Not that you’ve had a steak in years, but it looks and smells amazing. All of a sudden your appetite is back, though you’re careful not to eat too quickly. This is far better food than you’re used to and you want to savor it.

“Oof.” Max winces slightly as he chews. “I think I pissed her off,” he grumbles. “She overcooked my steak.”

“Over—?” The question is out of your mouth before you can stop it and you clamp your mouth shut before you can speak even more out of turn.

“My steak is fine.” Eddie smirks. “Maybe you deserve to have your steak overcooked.”

When Max’s response is to pout, you look between the two men with curiosity. “Are you…family?” You ask, as politely as humanly possible while noticing the immensely familiar way they deal with each other. They must be brothers. Cousins, at least.

“Brothers.”

“Hell no.”

Both answers come out at the same time and each man turns to look at the other one before Max rolls his eyes. “Fine.” He sighs. “Brothers. He’s the younger, annoying at shit one. I’m the older, more handsome, more successful one.”

Eddie snorts, knowing full well that Max was only older when he was sired. As far as birth date goes, Eddie definitely has some years on Max. “Adoptive brothers,” Eddie explains, having already told you he had an adoptive father.

“Got it.” There it is. Brothers. You were right. “I was just curious.”

“Nothing wrong with being curious.” Max sincerely means that. He’s always been the curious type and he is curious about you. Cutting into his steak again, he prepares himself for the too done bite, wishing he had some wine to wash it down with.

“If we’re all going to live together I suppose we ought to get to know each other a little?” Although you could argue that you already know that you don’t think you like Max too much, your mother’s voice is in your head reminding you that it is important to give people the benefit of the doubt. You never know someone else’s story unless you take the time to get to know them.

Great, the conversation that Max doesn’t wish to have. “Nothing much to tell. Highly successful, kind of a stud.” He winks at you again. “Devilishly handsome of course.”

And an ego the size of the planet. It’s not exactly your favourite trait, and you smile weakly. “Are you from Rhode Island originally?”

“Hell no.” Max shakes his head and shrugs. “Michigan.”

“I’m from California,” Eddie offers, trying to make the conversation a little bit smoother. “Our family is varied. We’re from all over.”

You nod as if that makes all the sense in the world, even though you can’t figure out how a kid from Michigan got adopted by the same family as a kid from California. But maybe it’s none of your business. “I’m from Indiana,” you add, trying to be conversational. “Originally, I mean.”

“Yeah?” Max perks up at being in the same geographical area. “I would have assumed you were from Rhode Island.”

“Never been here before in my life.” Not that you can remember, anyway. You don’t think it was one of the vacations your family took when you were little. “I’ve lived in Indiana and Tennessee before this.”

“Why Tennessee?” Max ask, curling his nose slightly.

“College.” Even if the conversation is forced or even unpleasant, this food is amazing. You’re going to be writing Mrs. Taylor personalized thank you notes every single day if this is her standard cooking. And good food, apparently, lifts your mood. “It kind of happened by accident.”

“Like most things in life.” Max snorts. “Including me.”

“I…” You look between the brothers but Eddie is eating again and not terribly engaged. “Don’t think I understand?”

Max chuckles and holds up another bite of the steak. “I was an accident?” He says, his tone kind of questioning. “I’d have to ask my daddy.”

“Feel free to ignore him,” Eddie advises, shaking his head. “I usually do.”

“And that’s why you’re poor.” Max huffs. “Don’t take advice from him. He’s a college kid.” He makes a dismissive face. “What do college kids know?”

“Well, you seemed very proud of your degree.” You reason, looking between both men. College was some of the best and most formative years of your life, despite the hardship of having just lost your parents. “That means you must value what you learned in college quite a lot.”

You’ve got him there and he knows it. Opening his mouth for a sassy reply until he realizes he’s got no argument. Making him snap his mouth shut and eye you again. “You’re good.” He huffs, pointing his steak knife at you and shaking his head. “Gotta hand it to you.”

"My mother taught me never to criticize someone who was trying to better themself." Even mentioning her makes your voice a little smaller, but it's true.

“Sounds like she is wise woman.” Max hums. “Is she coming by soon?”

"She...died." You swallow the lump that appears instantly in your throat and look down at your empty plate. "Twelve years ago."

“Oh.” Max feels like a complete asshole. “I’m sorry.” He tells you quietly. Sincerely. “I lost my parents about eight years ago myself.” They weren’t dead but Max couldn’t have contact with them after he had become a vampire. However, it felt like they were gone. Especially since they hadn’t believed he hadn’t been guilty of academic dishonesty.

"I'm sorry to hear that." It's never easy to lose someone you're close to regardless of the circumstances. There is a lull of quiet at the table as Mrs. Taylor returns to sweep away the dinner plates and replace them with all with a dish of ice cold raspberry sorbet – or, what appears to you to be raspberry sorbet. You could never know from looking at the dishes that Max and Eddie's dessert is made with blood instead of raspberry puree.

“Best part of dinner.” Max groans, diving into the blood sorbet. You don’t know what it is and Mrs. Taylor would never mix up the dishes so both men are free to indulge. Eddie makes a noise of agreement as he also attacks the dessert. They usually have blood in their wine, so this is the first real taste of human blood they’ve had the entire meal.

“Mrs. T knows her stuff.” Eddie groans in approval. The housekeeper’s age-old trick of disguising the color and texture of blood to blend in with human food is well practiced at this point. “I take it this is a favourite?” It’s almost teasing, but after just one bite you understand. If this is homemade, that thank you note you were planning on writing Mrs. Taylor is going to become a raise in salary.

“Yessssssss.” Max is scraping the bowl for every drop and licking his spoon clean. “I could eat a gallon of it every night.” He snickers.

“Oh, positively.” Eddie agrees, making himself cackle at his own bad pun.

“I think it was ‘O’ tonight.” Max grins. “O-ficially, my favorite.”

Whatever the joke is goes right over your head but you smile anyway, wanting to be polite and not derail the end of the meal the way you had a few times earlier in the night. When he's not puffing up his chest with bravado, Max is okay to be around. So you just really want to keep things at an even keel.

“Well. I guess I’ll go scream into the abyss.” Max hums as he stands. “Dolly, it was interesting meeting you. I’m sure we’ll run into each other again.” He smirks. “Probably over a midnight snack.”

Interesting. Interesting is never the adjective you want used to describe you in a first meeting, and your forced smile is even more strained than it would have been otherwise. Bidding both men good night, you stand from the table and make straight for the stairs — resolved not to leave your room at all tonight. And maybe to go looking for a job anyway, just to get out of the house for a little each day.

“What is the matter with you?” Eddie hisses, angry that Max made you uncomfortable.

“What?” He shrugs innocently. “She’s gotta get used to bold personalities if she’s gonna fit in here.”

“She doesn’t have to fit in,” Eddie reminds him with utter exasperation. “This is her house!”

“And we live here.” Max shoots back. “Not like I want to, he’s making me.”

“Because you fucked up.” Eddie reminds him, arms folded across his chest. “You let your fuss with Evan get the best of you and you got staked, so yeah. Punishment sucks, but you’re lucky Father was there to bring you back otherwise you would have been actually dead.”

Max rolls his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest and huffs. “Yeah. Lost every goddamn good scar and tattoo too. And he won’t let me put the tattoos back.”

“You still have your birthmark.” His brother-by-siring reminds him gently. “You can still find them if you want to.” Soulmates are a sticky wicket for vampires, but it isn’t an impossible feat. After all — they’re only mostly dead.

“It’s whoever is my soulmate’s birthmark.” Max tells him. “I have no marks on this new skin.”

“The fewer ways there are to identify us, the better. You know that,” Eddie reminds him gently. “But it’s good that you still have her mark. You can find her if you want to.” He has his suspicions, honestly. There are some moments that Max let’s his guard down and his squishy, sentimental interior peeks through.

Max snorts but there’s not the derision behind it that there would normally be. “She’s human.” He reminds Eddie, frowning for a moment. “Why would I want a human soulmate?” It’s not the real question he has and has had since he was changed, but it makes him seem less vulnerable.

“It worked for our Father and Cookie. It’s not impossible.” Shifting back in his chair to stand, Eddie shrugs. “Who knows? Don’t they say opposites attract?”

Max sighs, forcing the sound out of his useless lungs. “Yeah.” He grumbles.

“You gonna go back to the office for that orgy?” One raised eyebrow is all Eddie offers, but he knows Max pretty well at this point. And the wind has been sucked out of just sails pretty hard since he got home.

“Of course I’m going to go.” Max scoffs like there was never a question of him going. “You should come too. Seriously. You need to get out and get some.”

“I’ll pass.” That’s never been Eddie’s scene, even though that makes him unusual in the vampire community. “But have fun. And don’t make me an uncle.”

“Hard to do when all the little swimmers are dead.” Max snorts.

“No siring!” Eddie reminds him, but Max is already headed for the door.

“No promises!” Max cackles as he sails out the door and lets it slam shut behind him.

******

You can hear the door slam from your room, the sound echoing up through the atrium of the Great Hall and reverberating through the walls. The windows in your bedroom face the sloping grounds of the house but you would bet anything that that was Max who just left – off to do god knows what, and you don't even know why you care to think about it. All you can do is shake the thought from your head and hope it stays out. When that doesn't work you wander down to the library to snag a book from the shelf and tuck yourself under a blanket on the chaise in your bedroom next to the window for the rest of the night. A distraction – any distraction – is better than the racing thoughts that are a constant barrage in your mind.

The room is lit up, almost a beacon when Max returns. Barely an hour later. He had found that when he walked in the door, the orgy already started, he wasn’t interested. Which in turn, pissed him off. Why wasn’t he interested? Had been before that dinner and now the blood he had drank seems to roll in his stomach. Walking closer the house and seeing that someone – you – is perched in front of the window, absorbed in a book.

The movement in the shadows below you doesn't do a thing to break your concentration. For the first time in ages you have all the time in the world to do what you want, and what you want is to travel back to Thornfield Hall with Jane Eyre and Mr. Rochester. Nothing and no one is here to stop you, and that is a beautiful kind of miracle. The cup of cocoa that Renee brought up to you before saying good night is long since empty and you've added a second blanket to your cozy little nest to keep out the chill, but it's perfect. Nothing could disturb you right now.

You look like a princess in a tower. Even with the hollow-eyed looks that Max had pretended weren’t from a lifetime of abuse. At who’s hands is a guess, but there’s something about you that screams ‘please don’t’ and he is curious as to why.

Remaining oblivious to being watched is a blessing tonight. You shift on the chaise and readjust your position, laying your head on the top of the seat and cradling the book in your arms like it's the most precious treasure in the world. Today has been...stranger than you ever could have imagined. But like this? You can actually begin to think of a future where this house might one day feel like home.

One of the magical, mystical things about being a vampire is the ability to transform. He could become any creature that he wanted, but his overwhelming sense of sarcastic irony meant that he would become a bat. His body changing within moments, without the poof of smoke like in the movies, and he flaps his wings to get a closer look.

With the window open beside you, you feel the change in the breeze before you see anything different. A faint difference in the way the wind is blowing catches your attention, but doesn't distract you. What distracts is when you look out at the small balcony at your full-length windows and see a bat sitting there watching you with gleaming eyes.

Most people would probably be freaked out. Maybe even scream or recoil, or at least be startled. But you've always been a little bit more predisposed to things the world considers spooky than most, so you smile instead. If Disney princesses attract songbirds and wild forest animals, then you're surely just a Goth Disney Princess with a bat finding its way to your window instead of a cardinal or blue jay. "Hey cutie." You grin over at the little creature. "You live here too? Maybe in the attic or one of those big beech trees out back? I bet you do."

He’s surprised that you aren’t terrified of him. Most women would never talk to a bat but he finds it charming. He hops up onto the window ledge and flaps his wings, letting out a soft sound.

"You squeakin' at me, cutie?" Laughing softly, you briefly debate how bad of an idea it would be to let the little thing inside or even let it close to you. Bats carry diseases, don't they? Somehow you just can't bring yourself to care too much. This little buddy is too sweet.

He should be indignant that you, a mere human, isn’t terrified of him, but he flaps his wings again and decides that he will see how sturdy your resolve is. Taking flight, he circles your head twice before landing on your shoulder.

"Look who's a brave boy," you find yourself cooing to a creature that every single friend you've ever had would shriek at the actual presence of. The fact is, unless this little bat does something to harm you? It's just existing. Just trying to get by in a world that isn't necessarily always friendly towards creatures that aren't the most attractive or the most useful. And that...hits disturbingly close to home for you right now. "You wanna stay up there, cutie? Or do you want a little bed to snuggle up in?" Do bats snuggle? Who the fuck knows. But you still carve out a divot for it in your throw blankets all the same.

The fact that you are creating a little space in your lap for him making him smirk and trill. He doesn’t fly this time. He hops down your arm with the long, slow walk of the bats as they move over tree branches.

"Look at you!" The way you squeak in delight is almost the same as the little bat's sounds -- which you have to imagine are happy sounds. They sound happy, at least. "You want me to read to you, cutie? A little story time even though you have no idea what I'm saying?" You never thought the day would come that you wanted to pet a bat, but here you are. The little guy is just too stinkin' cute.

He trills again, grinning at how adorably you light up at his current form. None of the rounded shoulders and shy persona. He stomps around the little spot you made for him and folds his wings back as he stares up at you.

"Well go on, snuggle up." Somehow you could swear that this little bat can understand you, and it's the most peculiar thing in the world because you're not scared at all. Not even the smallest amount of apprehension in the back of your mind is there to cloud your enjoyment of this odd little moment. When the little sweetheart plops down in the middle of the nest that you made for him, you pick up your book rather dramatically and clear your throat. "It's called Jane Eyre," you explain to the bat, amused at the whimsy of the moment.

Of course you would read Jane Eyre. Max would roll his eyes in his human form but he just blinks and settles down into the little space you made him. It’s pretty nice to have someone not swat at him, or scream. He coos, wishing that you would pet him. That would make this even better.

"Let's see..." Finding your place on the page, you hum to yourself and settle in again with your back resting against the comfortably upholstered chaise lounge. "...a message came that I and Adele were to go downstairs. I brushed Adele’s hair and made her neat, and having ascertained that I was myself in my usual Quaker trim, where there was nothing to retouch — all being too close and plain, braided locks included, to admit of disarrangement — we descended, Adele wondering whether the petit coffre was at length come; for, owing to some mistake, its arrival had hitherto been delayed. She was gratified: there it stood, a little carton, on the table when we entered the dining-room. She appeared to know it by instinct." As you read, letting the feeling and comfort of the cool breeze wash over you and your new little friend, the fingers of your free hand find the bat's soft little head instinctively. So what if bats have diseases? You decide about three seconds after first stroking its little head. They're so soft and snuggly. I'll take antibiotics, but I'm keeping my little friend.

He’s almost surprised when you touch him and in the bat’s form, your fingers feel larger, yet they are gentle. Immediately pulling a sound that could only be described as pure pleasure out of him as his head moves towards your hand for more contact.

“Awwe, you like that?” It reminds you of the cat you had growing up, the way the little bat nudges into your touch, and you automatically open up your hand a little more to let it get comfortable for more scratches and pets as you continue reading.

Max could get used to this. Finding the relaxed and almost giggling persona of yours charming as you pet a bat. And the scratches he’s getting is like his own little personal massage. You obviously find bats to be cute and he doesn’t mind the reading so much now that you are petting him. Trilling and almost purring for you.

Sitting and reading a gothic romance novel to a bat might be the most edgy teen girl thing you’ve done in a hell of a long time, but before you know it the book in your hand is heavy and so are your eyelids. Who knows when it got to be so late, or when you got to be so tired, but falling asleep beside the open window with a happy little bat in your lap and an open book on your chest is the most contented you’ve felt in years.

Max listens to your heartbeat. Slow and steady in your chest. Nearly half as slow as when you are awake. Telling him that you have entered the dream world if you dream. He flutters his wings and moves off of you before he changes back to his human form. Staring down at you in confusion and contentment. It was the oddest evening he’s had in a long time, but probably the most satisfying. Defining you can’t sleep on the chaise, he uses the infinite strength of his kind to carefully scoop you up into his arms to carry you the fifteen feet to your bed. Tucking you in and watching you curl onto your side as he covers you up. Closing the window, he glances at you again before stealing out of your bedroom to make his way to his own, wondering if you will remember tonight when you wake up.

______

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#Pedro Pascal #Pedro Pascal character fanfiction #Pedro Pascal fanfic #Max Phillips #Max Phillips x reader #Max Phillips x you #Max Phillips x female reader #Max Phillips x f!reader #Eddie BtVS #Bloodsucking Bastards #soulmate au #a mysterious inheritance

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deliciousangelfestival · 8 months ago

Text

The Lady - 2

Character: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader, Eddie Horniman x Female Reader

Summary: After fifteen years away, a step-daughter returns for her Duke step-father's funeral, only to inherit a staggering 8 million pound debt and strike a risky deal with a criminal underworld figure.

Main Masterlist || support: Ko-fi

Chap 1, Chap 2, Chap 3 , Chap 4 , Chap 5 , Chap 6 , Chap 7.

Your ongoing support means the world to me! Reblogs are a fantastic way to help spread the word about my work. I'll do my best to reply to all your comments. Thank you for your continued encouragement!

Bucky leaned back in his chair, studying her reaction keenly. "I understand your concerns," he said, his tone surprisingly understanding. "But trust me, this is a business matter. We're not in the business of hurting innocent people."

"If someone died, I'd probably get deported," Bucky added casually, his tone belying the seriousness of his words.

"You're American too?" you blurted out, your voice tinged with disbelief. It was only now, under the stress of the moment, that you noticed Bucky's lack of a British accent.

"Yup. Just like you. So we have something in common," Bucky replied, his smile masking the underlying tension between you.

Leaning back in your chair, you feigned deep contemplation, buying yourself time to process the weight of Bucky's request. "After thinking thoroughly, it's not gonna happen," you finally declared, your words a thinly veiled refusal.

Bucky's easygoing demeanor vanished instantly, replaced by a steely resolve that sent shivers down your spine. Drawing closer, he rested both arms on Rupert's study table, his gaze piercing you unwaveringly.

"Your Grace, because of my friendship with Rupert, I'm giving you this last chance," Bucky declared, his voice low and commanding.

With a swift motion, he produced a business card from his suit pocket and slid it across the table towards you. "I'll be waiting for your call."

As he retreated, you couldn't help but feel a sense of foreboding creeping over you. The stakes had never been higher, and you knew that the choices you made in the coming days would shape the course of your future in ways you couldn't yet comprehend.

The weight of the situation pressed down on you like a suffocating blanket as you surveyed the room, your eyes landing on the familiar photos adorning the walls.

Among them, a small picture frame caught your attention, capturing a moment frozen in time: you and Rupert, smiling at a polo game.

Your voice faltered as you addressed the silent figure in the photograph. "Why did you choose me?" you whispered, the weight of the unspoken words hanging heavy in the air. "Dad."

Feeling lost and overwhelmed, you pondered your next move. Should you confront your mother, who seemed to have kept secrets hidden all along?

Or seek answers from the twins, who had already distanced themselves from the burden?

After careful consideration, you decided to turn to your childhood friend, Eddie, for guidance. With a sense of determination, you grabbed the car keys and set off for Halstead estate, hoping that Eddie might offer some much-needed clarity in this sea of uncertainty.

As you stepped onto the familiar grounds of Halstead estate, memories of summers past flooded your mind. Despite the initial awkwardness of being left behind by your mother, the warmth of Eddie's family soon enveloped you in a sense of belonging.

The memories of summers spent here flooded back. Your mother left you behind, as the twins didn't want you to join the holiday. So, your mom left you here since Eddie's manor was closer to you.

Initially awkward, but it became enjoyable with Freddie always cracking jokes and Eddie, the adventurous one.

Reminiscing about fishing trips, horseback riding, and clay shooting, you couldn't help but smile at the fond memories made in this idyllic setting.

Suddenly, a familiar voice broke through your reverie, and you turned to see Freddie, Eddie's brother, approaching with open arms. Despite the passage of time, Freddie seemed unchanged, his jovial spirit shining through.

"Y/N! Come here. Give me a hug."

You embraced him. It had been 15 years, and he seemed different, almost radiant.

Freddie said, "I'm sorry about Rupert. I lost my dad last year too."

You replied, "I'm sorry too."

"So, it's obvious you're not here for me. You want to see Eddie?" Freddie asked.

"I am," you confirmed.

"He just finished a conversation with a guest. Let me take you there," Freddie offered, leading the way.

When you walked into the study room, you heard an elegant female voice saying, "I'll give the info later."

As she walked out, you noticed her stylish demeanor and sensed a mysterious aura around her. There was a hint of leadership in her presence, but what struck you as odd was the faint smell of weed lingering in the air.

She smiled at you before departing.

"I didn't expect you to come here so soon," Eddie remarked with a smile as you turned to face him. Seated in a leather chair, he exuded the air of a true duke.

"I didn't know where else I could go," you replied.

Freddie cleared his throat. "I'll leave you two alone."

Eddie offered you a seat and poured a drink, which you gratefully accepted.

"I heard you got the title. Congrats," Eddie said, raising his glass in a toast.

You chuckled softly. "The title is useless when all I've got is debt."

Eddie fell silent for a moment. "I went through a similar situation myself. What kind of problem are you having right now?"

"Do you know Bucky Barnes?" you asked.

Eddie clicked his tongue in response.

Crossing your arms, you continued, "So you know him. That means you knew about my stepdad's weed business."

Eddie leaned back in his chair, thoughtfully swirling the amber liquid in his glass. "Rupert got into the business earlier than me," he began, his tone reflecting a mix of resignation and regret. "The woman you saw before is Susie Glass."

"He had a business with her," Eddie continued, his voice tinged with disapproval.

You clenched your jaw, the realization sinking in.

"I didn't know much about the details, but your father was on the list that worked with the Glass," Eddie explained, his expression troubled.

"He wanted out," you interjected, your voice firm with determination.

Eddie nodded grimly. "And that's where Barnes came in. He's a syndicate, setting up a branch in the UK from New York. His business was unique and deadly."

The dimly lit study seemed to take on a more sinister atmosphere as Eddie spoke, shadows dancing across the walls like flickering flames. The air was tense, each word carrying the weight of unspoken truths and hidden dangers.

"Rupert owes Barnes 8 million pounds," you stated, the gravity of the situation sinking in.

Eddie hesitated for a moment before responding, his expression thoughtful. "That's..."

"I know, it's insane," you interjected, your voice tinged with frustration.

Eddie met your gaze, his eyes reflecting a mix of sympathy and determination. "I could pay off your debt," he offered quietly.

You recoiled slightly, taken aback by his proposal. "Then what? I'll still in debt. It never ends," you countered, a note of bitterness creeping into your voice.

You sighed, the weight of Rupert's decision heavy on your shoulders. "Why did Rupert choose me?"

Eddie nodded in understanding, his expression reflective. "I asked the same thing when my dad chose me instead of Freddie."

Your brow furrowed in confusion as you looked at him, prompting Eddie to chuckle softly. "Problem solver," he explained simply.

You nodded slowly, considering Eddie's words. "Both of us did join the military. Is it because we went through difficult situations?"

Eddie leaned forward, his gaze unwavering as he locked eyes with you. "Probably," he agreed, a reassuring smile playing on his lips. "But I'm sure you could handle it. If not, I'll be here to help you."

A warmth spread through you at his words, and you felt a slight blush creeping up your cheeks. "Thank you," you murmured gratefully, appreciating his caring demeanor.

You nodded firmly. "I've got all I need. I'll go now," you declared, trying to maintain composure as you turned to leave.

Eddie nodded in response. "Sure. I'll see you next time," he replied, his tone gentle and understanding.

As you walked away, you couldn't help but feel a swirl of emotions inside, like a whirlwind of conflicting thoughts and feelings. You tried to keep a cool facade, but deep down, your heart was racing.

Meanwhile, Eddie watched you go, a flicker of concern crossing his features. Then, a voice interrupted his thoughts.

"Did she notice?" someone asked quietly.

Eddie glanced over, meeting the gaze of the speaker. "Not yet," he responded softly, his expression thoughtful as he contemplated the situation.

You drove for what felt like an eternity until you finally arrived back at your own manor. As you stepped inside, you noticed Hugo playing in the living room with Susan. Ignoring your mother, your focus was solely on your little step-brother.

You were just ten years old when you first met Rupert, and he had quickly become the best father figure you'd ever known. During the eight years you spent here, you learned to appreciate Rupert's love for his legacy and the history of the manor.

Sighing heavily, you knew you were about to make a risky decision.

Heading to Rupert's study again, you picked up Bucky's business card and dialed the number. After just two rings, his voice filled your ears. "I've been waiting for your call, Your Grace," he said smoothly.

Rolling your eyes at his confidence, you replied, "Just one job and you clear the debt?"

Bucky chuckled, his tone dripping with assurance. "It would be a big explosion. They'll think it's a terrorist attack. But no, Your Grace. Five small explosions, and we're done."

Bucky's voice crackled through the line, his tone both humorous and tinged with an unmistakable edge. "Think of it as fireworks, Your Grace. Except instead of pretty colors, we'll be making a statement."

You couldn't help but let out a nervous laugh, the gravity of the situation juxtaposed with Bucky's nonchalant demeanor. "And what kind of statement would that be?" you asked, trying to match his casual tone.

"The kind that says, 'Don't mess with us,'" Bucky replied, his voice dripping with a dangerous charm. "We'll leave 'em scratching their heads and scrambling for cover."

Despite the seriousness of the conversation, you couldn't deny the thrill of adrenaline coursing through your veins. "And you're sure this will work?" you inquired, a hint of skepticism creeping into your voice.

Bucky's confidence was unwavering. "Trust me, Your Grace. When it comes to making a scene, I'm the best in the business."

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kitchen-spoon · 6 months ago

Text

God I need a Steddie gilmore girls au.

Steve as lorelai and Eddie as luke.

Its my first watch so i’m at the start of their on again off again. But even just a one shot of their first fight.

They have only been together a few months after being friends for years and having so much tension and love built up between them. Steve’s parents are renewing their vows they are on good terms because of Dustin or maybe Eleven? She would fit better but I know their relationship isn’t explored often (could do sibling steve got custody of) I’d love max but she is so not at all like rory.

Anyway. They go Eddie comes everything goes to shit. Tommy shows up because Steve’s father went to him. He wants Steve with someone ‘propper’. Both of them have been sort of awful to him. But Eddie loves Steve so he goes. Tommy realizes he cant get Steve from Eddie he gets drunk and sloppy with a last ditch effort.

Eddie’s had enough because Steve felt bad for Tommy because his father died and they had a bad relationship but he’s inherited the company. (Another reason why Steve’s father pushed Tommy). They drank and talked about old times. Nothing happens! It’s innocent! But Steve feels guilty and ignores Robin’s advice and doesn’t tell Eddie until that night.

Eddie leaves, Steve chases him but Eddie says he needs time. Steve feels like he is dying, he cant wait. He could fix it all if he could explain it! He was stupid so stupid he knows. But he pushes too hard and Eddie draws the line. He had said months back he was in. All in for all of it. He wanted to do this seriously. But it had become too much. Steve was too much and always would be.

They are both heartbroken. Steve is devastated, Robin worries and tries to help but Steve just forces himself to focus on the salon. Meanwhile Eddie is snapping at people at the garage he inherited from Wayne who had to retire because of his hip.

Steve cuts his father off in the process. So does eleven or dustin. Neither of them will speak to him but they are polite and kind to Steve’s mother. Eventually it breaks his father who goes to Eddie and admits he is wrong. He gives not so much a blessing but a admittance of defeat, knowing he truly cannot do anything about Eddie.

Eddie doesn’t even close and clean up properly. He just flicks the lights off and rushes over to Steve’s. Steve who was previously watching sad 80’s breakup movies in his old high school gym shorts and a swim team t shirt a few sizes too small is shocked to see him. But Eddie doesn’t wait and surges forward connecting their lips in a kiss Steve instantly melts into.

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cal-daisies-and-briars · 17 days ago

Note

🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞 I will give you $5 if you let me fight helena diaz

162 or 1k for 🪞 - whatever comes first! And you can fight her for free!

---

Christopher’s face goes completely blank for a moment. Buck feels the temperature drop in the room.

Chris turns to Eddie. “I want to go home.”

Buck feels stricken.

“Christopher,” Eddie pleads. “We’re not done with dinner, it’s rude to go.”

“I don’t want to be here,” he says, sneering at Dove a little.

“Good!” Dove snaps back. “I don’t like you!”

“Dove!” Buck scolds. “That’s very rude.”

“I really don’t care,” Chris replies, ignoring Buck entirely.

But it’s clear that he does. He cares about something here a whole lot.

Buck looks at Eddie. He looks like he’s on the verge of having a panic attack. He doesn’t know how to handle this situation without upsetting Christopher further, and he’s not ready to do that yet. Well, guess what? Buck doesn’t mind.

“Switch,” Buck says to him.

“What?” Eddie asks.

“Switch with me,” Buck says, nodding at Dove.

Eddie furrows his brows, unsure.

“Trust me,” Buck says.

He’s got this.

Eddie nods a little.

Buck turns to Christopher. “Why don��t you and I talk privately?”

Christopher frowns. “I just want to leave.”

Buck shakes his head.

“We talk first,” Buck says firmly.

Chris narrows his eyes. He’s not sure how much Buck will push. Buck thinks Chris probably knows Eddie is willing to do a lot to keep the fragile peace between them. He probably thinks Buck won’t test it either. But Buck thinks he’s going to have to.

“Fine,” Christopher grits out.

Eddie looks surprised but relieved.

Buck nods. He turns to Dove, who looks on the verge of angry tears herself.

“I’ll be right back,” he says. “Listen to Eddie.”

▪️▪️▪️

Chris and Buck sit side-by-side on Buck’s front stoop. Chris looks anywhere but at Buck. His arms are crossed tightly. His jaw is locked in a stubborn set he inherited directly from Eddie. Like a fortress of bone and muscle tissue, all living under his skin. And the drawbridge is up.

Or at least it appears that way. It appears that he doesn’t want to hear what Buck has to say. But Buck doesn’t think that’s true.

“I don’t think you’re really mad about the zoo or my new place,” Buck starts them off.

“Yes,” Chris retorts. “I am.”

Buck sighs. “I’m sorry if you thought everything would be the same when you chose to come home, but it isn’t. I can see why that would suck.”

Christopher’s breath stutters for a second. Like maybe he didn’t expect Buck to hit the nail on the head. He finally looks at Buck, eyes welling with tears a little. He rolls his eyes. Not at Buck, but just… Generally.

“It’s stupid,” he mutters.

“It’s not,” Buck replies. “But why don’t you tell me about it instead of arguing with a six year-old?”

Chris exhales heavily. “I just wanted him to feel bad about what he did.”

“He does,” Buck replies. “Believe me. He does.”

“I know,” Chris says. ‘I know, and when I realized that he’s just kind of… He’s just kind of sad… I felt really bad.”

Buck’s throat tightens. Just kind of sad. The whole notion of Chris perceiving his father that way makes Buck want to puke.

“Christopher-”

“But by the time I wanted to come home, it was too late.”

“Too late for what?” Buck asks.

“You got Dove,” Christopher rolls his eyes.

“And you think that had something to do with you being in Texas?” Buck asks.

“Well, wasn’t it?” Chris demands. “You took her to the zoo! Dad loves her! She’s like… The good kid.”

Buck shakes his head.

“Oh boy. Okay. Can I tell you something, and you promise not to repeat it in front of her? She’s too little to hear it. But I think you’re old enough.”

This seems to appease Chris the slightest bit. He looks curious.

“Okay,” he says.

“I met Dove the day she was born,” Buck says.

Christopher scrunches his face a little. “Really?”

Buck nods. “It was the January before I met you and your dad, actually. I was brand new at the 118.”

“Her birth was an emergency?” Chris asks.

Buck shakes his head.

“Not the birth itself but… Her mother was very young. A teenager. Dove was born premature. She was so small. And her mother, scared I guess… Chris you cannot repeat the part.”

“I won’t!” Chris promises.

Maybe Buck is insane for sharing this. Oh well.

“She flushed her down the toilet of her apartment building,” Buck says.

Christopher’s jaw drops. “What?”

Buck nods. “Yep. It was pretty horrible.”

“But you guys saved her?”

“We did,” Buck agrees. “And I held her, and I promised her she’d be okay, and then we took her to the hospital, and I didn’t see her again for over six years. And in that time, she was placed with social services, and no one ever adopted her.”

“Oh,” Chris replies. “That’s sad.”

“Yeah,” Buck agrees. “So, when I met her again, and realized who she was, I thought… I have to do something. Someone had to step up for her.”

Chris nods. Like it’s beginning to make sense.

“And you know what? I’m really glad I did.” Buck explains. “Because I love her very much.”

“That’s good,” Chris whispers.

“But,” Buck says. “There wasn’t a second of her being here, and you being gone, that I didn’t miss you, too.”

Chris looks at him. “Really?”

“Really,” Buck replies. “And same with your dad, okay?”

Chris sighs. “Sorry, Buck. I didn’t know that happened to her. Dad didn’t say.”

“Hey, that’s okay,” Buck replies. “I know you’re also probably tired and emotionally drained. It’s been a big week. I get it.”

“Yeah,” Chris agrees. “It really has.”

“But can I ask you a favor?”

“What favor?” Chris asks.

“Can you go in there and make nice with her? For me?”

Chris wrinkles his nose. “I don’t know, Buck. She doesn’t like me either.” “Well, Chris, once again… She’s six. And you’re pretty much a young man, right?”

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ladykailitha · 11 months ago

Text

The Magic of Christmas Part 7/8

Here we get to the secret relationship as I wanted it to be surprise. Claudia is awesome as usual and Eddie and Steve are too cute for words.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

***

Eddie was feeling a tad grumpy. He was going to be alone for Thanksgiving. Chrissy was going back to her brother’s family for the holiday since both of them weren’t speaking to their parents anymore and even Uncle Wayne betrayed him by accepting dinner with his girlfriend’s family.

“That can’t be allowed,” Steve said when he heard. “Why don’t you join us for Thanksgiving? Dustin would flip if you came.”

Eddie chewed his lip nervously. “Are you sure? I wouldn’t want to intrude. I could hit up the local buffet if I had to.”

“And risk the long lines, the sick servers, and the risk of food poisoning because they can’t get the food out fast enough?” Steve asked with a raised eyebrow as he counted off the reasons on his fingers.

“You drive a hard bargain, Stevie.”

He laughed. “Plus Claudia is bring her new boyfriend and I need you to distract Dustin so he doesn’t freak out.”

Eddie rolled his eyes. “Yeah, all right. You win. I’ll come to your Thanksgiving. Who’s making dinner? Do I need to bring anything? I’ve got a killer roll recipe.”

“Me and Claudia share the cooking duties most years but because her boyfriend is coming I offered to do the whole thing.” Steve shrugged. “But sure take over the rolls. That’s one less thing I have worry about finding space in the over for.”

“Sweet!” Eddie said jumping up with a whoop. “I’ll even come a little early to be your cooking buddy so that you aren’t slaving away in the kitchen by yourself.”

Steve blushed. “You don’t have to that, Eds.”

“Steve,” Eddie said seriously. “I love your best friends. Robin and Dustin are amazing people that should in no way be allowed anywhere near the kitchen. They would burn it down and you know it.”

He opened his mouth to protest, but he knew it was futile. “Yeah, okay. Dinner is a three so maybe come around one?”

Eddie grinned. “Sounds good, darlin’.”

Steve blushed.

Eddie was greet at the door by Claudia with a kiss on his cheek. His own mother had passed away and this amazing woman had decided she was going to adopt any motherless person she found. Robin and Steve didn’t speak to theirs and Eddie had lost his when he was six to cancer. So she had four children as far as she was concerned.

“I’m so glad you’re here, dear,” she muttered. “Steve keeps kicking me out of kitchen. It’s not that I worry he’ll do it wrong, of course!” She waved her hands. “No, I’m worried that he’ll take too much on and wear himself out so he can’t enjoy the meal after.”

Well that was something that Dustin definitely inherited from his mother. The sheer speed at which they spoke. They could get out as much information in five minutes then most people could get in fifty.

“Let me grab those rolls for you,” she continued sweetly. “I’ll just put on the on the side bar.”

Eddie let her take his dish and wandered off in the direction of the kitchen. He found Steve in the cutest pink, frilly apron, hair slicked back with sweat and looking like he had just gotten off of a red-eye flight.

The first thing Eddie did was get Steve a cold beer out of the fridge and pop the cap. He handed it to him.

“Chef gets the booze,” he said with a grin. “Munson family tradition.”

Steve downed half of the bottle in one gulp. “Thanks. I think I like your tradition.”

Eddie chuckled. “As long as you don’t down the entire bottle of red wine used for the gravy, I think booze is the perfect aid for cooking.” He clapped his hands together. “Right, where do you need me?”

Steve started rattling off things that needed to be done and Eddie jumped right in.

Soon they were moving in tandem, just working in perfect rhythm.

Eddie burst out laughing when he heard Dustin tell Robin not go into the kitchen.

“It’s like fucking Swan Lake in there,” he whisper shouted. “I’m afraid if you go in their you’ll break the spell.”

They saw Robin peek in and then squeaked when she them looking back her. She vanished.

Steve shook his head fondly. “You can start stacking things up on the sideboard, Eds. We just have to give this bird time to rest and I’ll carve it up.”

“Sounds good, Stevie!” Eddie said and grabbed the stuffing. Homemade, not that box stuff. It was Claudia’s grandmother’s recipe and she refused to eat anything else.

Eddie was coming out with the candied yams when Dustin came up to him.

“Ma’s boyfriend’s got a nephew that does art, too,” he said. “Maybe you know him!”

Eddie shook his head. “Look, there are some many artists in just Indy alone, there is no wa–”

Just then Claudia ushered in her boyfriend and Eddie’s jaw slammed shut. He patted Dustin on the shoulder and said, “Actually, I take that back, I do know his nephew.”

The boyfriend stopped cold in his tracks when he saw Eddie coming toward him.

“When were you going to tell me, Uncle Wayne,” Eddie said with a low growl, “that you were dating Claudia Henderson?”

Wayne Munson blinked at his nephew a moment, working his jaw as he tried to find the words. Any word would have done in that moment, but Wayne was stunned to silence for the first time in his life since learning that he was now the legal guardian of a very disgruntled eleven year old.

“Hi, Ed,” he managed to say, his voice high and unnatural. “Glad to see you found a place to go for Thanksgiving?”

Eddie folded his arms and tapped his foot. “I know you know who Steve Harrington is and if you’ve been dating Claudia long enough to have her stay at your place while Steve was in London, then you know I knew who they were after Halloween.”

Wayne looked over at Claudia who was staring at him with wide eyes as was Dustin.

“I’ll explain after dinner,” he promised them. Then he grabbed Eddie by the arm and dragged him off to a side room.

“How the hell did you even know this room existed?!” Eddie groused. “I didn’t know this room existed!”

“Look, son,” Wayne said. “I should have said something and it was wrong of me. Especially when I figured it out pretty quick that your Steve was Claudia’s Steve.”

Eddie sighed. “So why didn’t you?”

Wayne scratched the back of his neck sheepishly. “Because it’s been so long since we didn’t share something. Something that unique to both of us that wasn’t your art. I had a wonderful woman as my girlfriend and you had this sweet mother figure. And it was separate from the other.”

“Only it was the same person,” Eddie said dryly, shoving his hands in his back pocket. Were you never going to introduce us and hope we never found out?”

“No!” Wayne said. “Of course not! I going to tell you at Christmas.”

Eddie glared at him. “When it would be fucking unavoidable as we would both be invited to the Christmas party.”

Wayne ducked his head in shame. “I’m sorry, son. You have to believe that.”

Eddie rolled his eyes and then stomped over to his uncle. He wrapped his arms around Wayne’s shoulders with a heavy sigh.

“You didn’t want to feel obligated to keep dating her because I felt a motherly connection to her, huh?”

Wayne let out a shuddering sigh. “That was a big part of it, too.”

“I’ll go tell them what’s going on and give you a minute to compose yourself,” Eddie said and kissed the top of his head.

He nodded and watched as Eddie slipped back out into the hallway.

Sure enough all of the members of the household were waiting for him.

“Sorry about that,” he told them. “He was just being a little selfish and wanted to keep you guys to himself for a while.”

“That silly man,” Claudia huffed. “I’ll go talk some sense into him, shall I?”

Eddie huffed out a laugh. “Go for it.”

Claudia went into the side room, leaving Eddie with the remaining three.

“We should go eat before all that lovely food gets cold,” Steve said with a smile.

Robin and Dustin went off on a tear, pushing and trying to trip each other so that they were the first in line.

Steve opened up his arms and Eddie fell into them with sigh.

Steve rubbed his back soothingly. “I know you feel a little betrayed right now, and you should. But pretty soon this will just be blip in your relationship and you’ll be able to tease him about insistently.”

Eddie raised his head. “That does sound nice.”

Steve kissed his cheek. “Come on, we better get out there before Robin eats all the stuffing and Dustin eats all the candied yams.”

Eddie gasped and then took off in a dead heat for the dinning room. Steve looked back at the room Wayne and Claudia were in and shook his head fondly.

He was sure everything was going to be just fine.

Dinner passed with little fuss and no drama. There was always going to be a little fuss about Dustin taking too much and Steve taking too little, but it worked out fine in the end.

That night they settled in for board games and pie.

“Pie is the one thing I leave to the professionals,” Steve said. “I don’t know where the saying ‘easy as pie’ comes from but they were a damn liar.”

Claudia laughed. “The crust is easy enough, but it’s the baking it so the rim doesn’t burn before the rest of the pie is done that gets me every time.”

“It’s the filling for me,” Steve said. “It’s either dead cold in the center or a goopy melted mess.”

Eddie put his head on the palms of his hands and batted his eyelashes at Wayne. “Uncle, would you like to tell me why you didn’t offer to make your world famous apple pie? As in the one you have won literal awards for?”

Wayne froze. “What pie?”

Eddie continued to bat his eyelashes.

“Snitch,” he groused. “Because I wanted someone else to do the work for a change.”

“I brought gramma’s rolls,” Eddie countered. “You could have made one pie.”

Wayne sighed. He knew he had been defeated. “I’ll bring it for Christmas.” He glared at Eddie. “I can’t believe you sold me out like that.”

Eddie got up and kissed his uncle on the cheek. “Payback’s a bitch,” he whispered in his ear.

Wayne flushed, but didn’t say anything else. He knew Eddie was right.

Dustin turned to Eddie. “You come to Christmas too!”

Eddie and Steve shared a glance.

“Sure thing, bud,” was all Eddie said.

Chrissy came up behind Eddie having just gotten back from her brother’s house.

“You’re painting?” she asked. “I thought you had finished the piece for Steve.”

Eddie hummed in agreement. “I tried to get him to stop paying our bills when I told him I finished it, but he said the contract was for six months and while I had completed my side of the bargain, he hadn’t yet. He told me to just have fun until the end of the year. Goof off or work on my own passion projects.”

“That was sweet of him,” she said, wrapping her arms around him. “What are you painting?”

“Steve’s Christmas from me,” he answered. “His favorite dragon is a yellow chromatic dragon.”

“Aren’t they all evil?” she asked.

Eddie set down his paint brush and turned in his stool. “Did you ever see that Disney cartoon where knight and the dragon are having tea?”

Chrissy shrugged. “I vaguely remember that.”

“It’s going to be like that,” he said. “Instead of fighting the knight and the dragon are sitting down and having tea.”

“That’s cute!” she said. “He’ll love it.”

He blushed. “That’s the hope.”

***

Part 8

Don't be too hard on Uncle Wayne, it's hard being a single parent even if they've already moved out. He was stupid, but it wasn't malicious.

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