#eddie munson historical au

[katyawriteswhump]

steddie microfic: of ogres and omegas

For @steddiemicrofic november prompt, guard, 532 words.

Rating: E; CW: omegaverse, fingering, slick, sexual content, slightly under negotiated but they're totally into it; Tags: fairytale omegaverse, alpha Eddie Munson, Omega Steve Harrington, happy ever after.

Summary: Omegas are rare, sold at great price, and coveted by all beasts. Fortunately, Eddie’s one true love has got moves that can put even warmongering monsters off their guard…

❤️👹❤️👹❤️

You gotta tough it out like an Alpha, Munson!

So, here Eddie was, climbing the rope-like ivy up Castle Harrington’s tallest turret. The higher he got, the stronger he smelled the desperate fear of the Omega imprisoned within. On reaching the window, he was so angry he’d forgotten he was scared shitless of heights.

“Stevie?”

“Eddie?” Steve clutched the bars, knuckles whitening. “What the—”

“Ssssssh.” Eddie perched on the sill, yearning to comfort his Omega. “There’s a single guard outside your door. It’s one of them.”

Steve’s breathing grew choppy, his scent bitter. Today, his royal parents intended to marry him to the chief of a pack of uber-alpha ogres—half-humanoid beasts famed for their lightning reflexes, blood lust, and despicable manners.

“Relax,” soothed Eddie, heart panging. “Here to rescue you, my love.”

Steve’s eyes widened. “You’ll break these bars?”

“Sorry. They’re magically reinforced. However, the ogres have one weakness. You.”

“Me?”

Eddie explained. In the castle library, he’d discovered the scent of an Omega going into heat rendered most uber-alpha ogres totally bonkers thus easy to overpower. Their arch-alpha-ogre chief was immune… but the guard?

Easy prey.

“Sorry to be a buzzkill,” bitched Steve. “How do I get horny while terrified my idiot Alpha is gonna plummet to his death?”

Eddie’s fraying nerves snapped: “You WANT to marry somebody who’ll keep you in a magic cage, so you can’t nerf his army with your hotness?” Steve whimpered; Eddie sighed. “We got this, love. C’mere.”

They embraced tentatively through the bars, and Eddie stole a kiss. Steve parted his lips with a needy moan, his honeyed scent bloomed, and he purred softly. Eddie’s hand soon nudged up beneath Steve’s short tunic, stroking the bare thighs beneath.

“Okay?”

Steve nodded, breaths hitching, slick trickling already.

“Can’t wait to fill you with my Alpha dick,” Eddie growled, probing gently between Steve’s folds. “Gonna make love to you every night. You’ll smell sweet forever more.”

Despite his peril—and the bars wedged between them—Eddie was getting achingly turned-on. Steve gasped, head lolling back, arms around Eddie’s neck loosening. Eddie found a foothold on a jutting stone and pressed another digit into Steve’s virgin hole.

He gently finger-fucked Steve, till a wave of fresh slick drenched his wrist, and a gorgeous candied scent exploded. Steve started chirruping uncontrollably. Eddie growled in raw hunger, even as Steve’s spacey eyes sharpened slightly:

“Go,” squeaked Steve, cheeks flushed feverishly. “I’ll take it from here. L-love you!”

Soon, Eddie crept up the spiral staircase to Steve’s prison. Peeping around the final bend, he saw a drunkenly-swaying ogre opening Steve’s door, pumping his huge monster dick.

Crap! There’s the flaw in your genius plan, Munson!

Fortunately, he felled the ogre with a single sword blow. Inside, Steve writhed on the canopied bed, sobbing desperately, frantically stroking between his legs.

“I gotcha, Stevie.” Eddie scooped his Omega into his arms.

“Mate me. Now. Gonna die!”

“Sorry. Gotta skedaddle or we’re both gonna die.”

Eddie galloped off into the night, before his Omega’s luscious scent aroused the whole castle. Safe in his uncle’s hide-out, he laid Steve in a warm nest, and did everything he promised and more to help him through his first heat.

❤️👹❤️👹❤️

Tags: @wheneverfeasible <3 My ST fic on AO3

[starshideurfics]

Thirsty Thursday - Paris, 1889

steddie, omegaverse, starving artist eddie, moulin rouge dancer steve

Eddie Munson knows he’s lucky. Some days he feels like the luckiest man alive. He lives in Paris, he’s doing what he loves, and most days he has enough money to eat three meals.

And yes, most of that money is charity from his beloved uncle, and NOT from selling his artwork. 

In the year he’s been in his tiny garret, committing to La Vie Boheme, Eddie has sold one painting. He picks up odd jobs, sells sketches on the street, but paints are expensive.

So is coal. 

Winter is fast approaching, and to save on fuel costs, Eddie stays out of his flat as mich as possible, soliciting gallery owners and doing his best to get something in front of the eyes of the Paris elite. Then, in the evening, he goes to the Moulin Rouge.

It starts out with him trying to stay warm as long as possible, as late into the night. And to get cheap drinks.

The Can-Can dancers are just a fun bonus, fun to watch from the back, but little more.

At least until a new omega starts, wide-eyed and covered in beauty marks.

Now he’s *very interested* in the dancers, and even more annoyed with the fact that they’re dancing. He just wants to stare at the lovely omega, to capture his beauty in charcoal and chalk and oils. Eddie pulls out a little sketchbook, doing his best to get his features down.

He’s so absorbed that Eddie nearly forgets that the purpose of the dance is to titillate, the movements quick, the kicks showing off the splits in the dancers’ drawers, the shadow of pubic hair, and a hint of dusky pink.

Eddie wants to draw that too…

He goes back every night, trying to get a bit closer to *his* omega. Night after night he moves closer to the stage, finally close enough to smell. Most of it is heady perfume, he’s fairly certain the majority of the dancers are betas, but there’s a fresh note, sweet and green.

Staring dumbly up at his pretty dancer, Eddie prays for him to look his way. Three nights pass before their eyes meet, the omega flashing him a soft smile.

That night he builds up enough courage to wait at the dressing room door, to show his sketch to the security guard.

To get a name: Stéfan.

The guard agrees to ask Stéfan to come to the door after Eddie slips him a handful of francs. He’ll gladly give up breakfast tomorrow if he can speak to his new muse.

“Bonsoir,” a low, sweet voice says, startling Eddie from his reverie.

He’s wearing a long coat, buttoned up to his neck, hat on his head, but just as enthrallingly beautiful to Eddie. So enthralling that Eddie says as much, murmuring, “Good evening, Angel.”

“No need for that, Stef is fine.” The omega smiles. “You’re an artist, yes?”

“Yes, how did you know?”

Stef reaches for Eddie’s hands, turning them to show off the black smudges of charcoal on his fingers. “And I’ve seen you drawing in the audience.” He drags a finger up the center of Eddie’s palm. “What are you always drawing?”

“You,” Eddie blurts.

“Me? Why?” Stef asks with a laugh.

“I’m surprised every alpha you meet isn’t driven to catalogue your beauty.”

“Flatterer.”

“It is the truth! I’ve never seen a lovelier omega on this earth.”

“I doubt you’ve seen much outside of Paris.”

“It is still true,” Eddie pouts.

Stéfan is still holding Eddie’s hand, both of them blushing. “Are you hungry? There’s a café I like down the way, we could eat a late supper and maybe… You could show me some of your drawings?” He leans closer, sniffing not so discreetly at Eddie’s neck. “And tell me your name?”

“Édouard! My name is Édouard, um…Eddie, call me Eddie. And I would love to get supper with you.”

🎨🍾💗

Stef goes home with Eddie that night, showing him just how covered in beauty marks his body is, moaning as Eddie worships him with talented fingers.

At the end of the month, Eddie sells a painting: a sensual portrait of Stéfan in their bed. 

part two

[wheneverfeasible]

Historical omegaverse au idea(s) I may never write but by the gods do I want to

I’m gonna be honest. I’ve been reading a couple historical omegaverse fics (specifically here and here) and I also watched The Nun II recently and idk. Ignoring the demon/horror aspect, I just kind of got caught with the idea of rural boarding school teacher and the lowly grounds worker there. With o!Steve as the teacher and a!Eddie as the groundskeeper of course.

~

Picture it. Steve has “adopted” Max (I know, I know, it’s usually Dustin, but since Claudia isn’t going to be in the final season, I just can’t stand to get rid of her and Max makes the most sense for needing a new guardian) but according to paperwork to keep Max safe, they have lied and said that Max is biologically his. Perhaps him taking her in was one of the reasons why his high society family has disowned him and now he’s a vaguely destitute teacher that he only got the job of because his friend Robin (who teaches foreign language obvi) vouched for him. His being a teacher there allows Max to attend classes, though some of the snootier kids are assholes about it.

Anyways, Eddie works the grounds with his uncle, both also quite destitute but they have a good thing going there, though they are always treated poorly by the rich children there. The exceptions are of course the Wheeler child, the Sinclair children, and the Henderson child, as well as their friends the Hopper-Byers children who are there on scholarship. This is the group that welcomes Max into their fold eventually too.

Eddie of course thinks Steve is a bit too snooty when he first lays eyes on him, but then quickly realizes Steve isn’t like that at all. (Steve meanwhile thinks Eddie is uncouth until realizing he’s actually quite gentle and sensitive.) As well, if he has a child at such a young age, Eddie realizes that Steve must have had her probably around his first heat right after presenting. This is a belief everyone holds, and one Steve and Max actively encourages to prevent them taking Max away from him, but it does lead to them both being look down upon frequently and has ruined all prospects for Steve.

There’s obviously lots of pining, plenty of misunderstandings, and lots of Robin and Wayne and Max watching these two idiots dance around each other and face palming. Robin is of course the only one who knows the truth about Max because Robin knew Steve before he was disowned, and knew about Max’s past too. Maybe, just maybe, Steve rescued her from an abusive household. A violent stepfather, an abusive stepbrother, an alcoholic mother…maybe Steve helps her escape and leaves his past life behind.

MAYBE the reason Steve and Max crossed paths was because the Hargroves and the Harringtons were in talks of an arranged match between a!Billy and Steve. Steve didn’t want it, saw how miserable Max was, and basically kidnapped Max (with her consent) and ran away with her to give them both a chance at a better life.

Which is why, after Eddie and Steve finally start to make their moves, the climax of the story angst begins where Billy has found them (maybe Neil is dead idk and Billy took over managing the family), claiming Steve belongs to him and offering to drop all kidnapping charges if he returns quietly with Max. Eddie learns the truth about Max’s parentage then, and Steve’s past, and the whole lot of them come up with a solution that I don’t know what it is yet.

Maybe Steve sacrifices himself and agrees to return and mate with Billy only if Max can stay with her new friends and Robin and for the Hargroves forget about her existence. Billy would eventually accept this. Maybe while Steve and Billy are set to return home, Eddie rushes to prevent their departure and challenges Billy to a duel or something.

Blah blah blah Eddie wins of course and Steve and Max get to stay and Steve officially adopts her, and he and Eddie finally get together and knock boots. And Steve and Eddie love Max as their own and eventually give her a younger sibling which she then fears they’ll love more than her and worries Steve will regret adopting her but obviously that’s not true and Steve and Eddie make sure she knows that she is theirs in all ways. Their first child, no matter what.

Anyways yeah. Maybe one day I’ll do the research necessary for this. Also when I have time to devote myself to this story in its whole. Definitely deserves at least 50k I feel. And I sadly just don’t have time for that right now.

THAT BEING SAID.

I also really adore the idea of teacher Eddie and groundskeeper Steve, because I love reversing tropes and I love making Steve work with his hands in a lowly position, especially if he used to be from a “proper” family, but then the plot would definitely change some. Steve could honestly remain as the omega in this situation too, or switch it up and make him the alpha. Probably get rid of the parent aspect, unless perhaps it’s post-divorce Susan who has become an alcoholic and Eddie did actually officially adopt her because they had been neighbors or something before he moved for a better life.

OR Steve is the teacher but the above about Max and Eddie is still true and she can only attend the school because he’s the groundskeeper which still causes issues with the popular rich kids. And Steve is the teacher who takes a shining to her. Not sure what the main drama aspect would be then. Maybe Eddie is framed for something and is being sent away from the school or arrested or something, and Steve & Co. prove his innocence.

~

Idk. So many options. My issue with aus is that I also come up with aus of aus because I can’t decide how most I would love things to go which then makes it difficult to actually write anything 😂

-

If anyone else wants to use any of these ideas in the meantime, feel free! Just tag credit and link the fic so I can read it!

-

Hostage tags: @derythcorvinus @katyawriteswhump

[kitchen-spoon]

Steddie bridgerton au but make it ABO:

You could have Steve as an alpha being swarmed by mothers trying to set him up with their eligible omega’s. But Steve had sworn off relationships after what happened between him and Nancy.

And Omega Eddie who doesn’t believe he will ever be married off so he pretends not to care. But deep down he wants to be loved. He also feels indebted to his uncle Wayne who took him in and knows that if he isn’t married Wayne will be stuck with him forever.

OR you could switch it around.

Omega Steve who’s rich parents give him no say and are using him as a bargaining chip. They want to Marry him off to whoever will make their family the most powerful. This means gross old men courting Steve who wants nothing more than real true love.

Alpha Eddie who is a recluse, he fled when he was of age for the marriage season, never debuted his way into society. But he comes back after his parents passing to live with his uncle Wayne. He has come into a large fortune which is the only reason he has any prospects. But Eddie hears the whispers about him and knows what the ton truly thinks of him.

[fizzigigsimmer]

To B, With Love

Moodboard by @prettyboylikeyousteve

Genre: A/B/O Mail Order Bride Au!

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Harringrove

Summary: Steve, a society omega, puts out an add in the paper looking for an alpha among the lonely hearts expanding the west. He’s answered by Billy, a lonely cowboy living in a growing settlement in California rich  in just about everything but available omegas. Even though it is clear  that Billy hasn’t had the schooling that Steve has, Steve finds himself  charmed and intrigued by the intelligent and silly alpha who hangs on  his every word, who actually seems to want to listen to him. He seems  like the perfect choice, but there’s one problem. It’s not Billy who has  been writing Steve but his little sister Max.

Preview: In the aftermath of Max's near abduction Steve finds himself in an unexpected circumstance. Meanwhile Billy tries to keep himself and his companions alive in their hunt for Vecna's missing cattle. A dance of wills between him and Mac Owens leads him to an impossible choice.

[urhoneycombwitch]

i had an idea for high nite but then I forgot and fell asleep so I missed it 😔 but luckily I remembered 😁

I've seen some royal aus but they normally make Eddie the knight/blacksmith/stable boy which is cute but imagine the reverse

imagine prince Eddie who is very silver spoon but with a rebellious streak who has his eyes on maid/royal librarian/servant of some kind reader and will steal as many moments as he can go flirt even though it's a big no-no within the castle and would definitely make his father, the King, upset if he knew his Prince son had affection for someone "lower"

But don't imagine Prince Eddie in all his royal garb and his curls soft and shiny from the elegant products and his crown glistening as it goes askew on his head from hiking up reader's skirts to take them up against the wall trying to be quiet as to not alert anyone

waiiiiiit okay listen I’ll be the first to admit i’ve not been huge into the historical!au genre, however… this might’ve just swayed me, anon.

+18 mdni

because yeah have we considered Prince Eddie of the Western Plains who’s a known scamp. just an absolute dog for the maidens. so when he sets his sights on you, the Royal Gardener’s assistant (not the perfectly eligible, much more age-appropriate Royal Gardener, herself) it’s so… overwhelming.

he literally shirks all his duties, so there’s plenty of time for fucking around in the stables all day, broken up by the greenhouse visits he takes every few bells to tease and flirt with you.

“could come see me after dinner hour, princess,” Eddie says, leaning against one of the sturdy oak gardening tables, directly in the way of your handheld broom’s path.

you swat at his side with the brush, whipping around to make sure no one else was nearby before chiding with a hiss- “shhh. keep your voice down, sire. you’re going to get us both in trouble, calling me that.”

he pouts. unamused, you tap at his side again. “please, Eddie- move. you’ll get dirt on your trousers, besides.”

“i think I liked being called sire, by that sweet mouth, better than my own name.” he chooses an opposing table to drape himself against, silver circlet in his hair twinkling with sunlight as he tilts his head- “what’s got you all pent up, hmm?”

“I think you know what,” you whisper, with a clipped edge to your tone- “winding me up all day, putting a hand up my skirts as you pass-”

“careful, my lady.” Eddie’s voice is suddenly at your ear, his front fitting snug against your back, hips pressing your own into the table. “that sounds like heresy speech against a royal. they could put you in handcuffs, for that.”

your breath hitches. his long hair tickles at your cheek. the greenhouse is eerily quiet, just you and Eddie and the smell of rich, damp soil as you press back into the thickening bulge of his crotch.

“gonna tie me up, my lord? is that a promise?”

[starshideyourfics]

Chapter three of Build a Life with You, the omegaverse mail order bride au, is up now!

Enjoy a quick preview here, then enjoy the rest on ao3!

Angel of the Home

Steve’s nausea settles, but Eddie encourages him to take things easy and rest when he comes out to join them. Not that any of the Munsons are doing anything particularly taxing when he does; they’re spending the late afternoon talking in the front room, and Eddie keeps Steve pressed against his side once he joins them. Dustin bounces around until the sun begins to set, yawning and stretching as he visibly sags. Wayne’s just said his goodbyes, needing enough light to get home, and Eddie tells Dustin, “I think you had so much fun this week that your body needs a break. Go on and get ready for bed.”

Dustin sulks, fighting his clear exhaustion, and sits next to Steve, arms thrown around his neck. “Do I have to?” he asks, only a little whiney as he snuggles into Steve’s shoulder, his breathing already getting deep and even.

Steve looks to his husband, not wanting to overstep his bounds, but also desperate to comfort Dustin. Eddie sucks his teeth, but refrains from saying anything, simply nodding to Steve so they can present a united front without turning this into an argument. Stroking down Dustin’s back, Steve says, “I think you’re already halfway asleep, Dustin. You need to rest, and so do I. I promise you won’t miss anything exciting.”

“Pinky promise?” Dustin murmurs, looking up at Steve and holding out his little finger.

Linking his own pinky around it, Steve whispers, “Pinky promise,” against his fist the way he would with Tommy when they were still young enough and close enough for such things. Dustin grins, fighting to keep his eyes open, and Steve adds, no longer whispering, “But you can’t just come to me if Eddie tells you to do something you don’t like, all right? We’re pack and we work together.”

“All right,” he agrees, yawning again and hiding his face against Steve’s shoulder.

Eddie smiles indulgently at them both, Steve smiling back as he rubs little circles between Dustin’s shoulders. “I’ll go get the animals bedded down for the night and when I get back I can carry him up to bed,” Eddie whispers before dropping a kiss to Steve’s cheek. “Scent sharing like this should be good for you both,” he adds as he ruffles Dustin’s hair before turning to leave.

Steve hums his assent, happy to continue cuddling the pup, feeling warmth spread through his body as Dustin’s powdery sweet scent fills his nose. Dustin mumbles something incoherent, fingers gripping harder at Steve’s shirt. “Shh,”Steve soothes, “Rest now. Just relax here with me.”

Pretty soon, Steve has his eyes closed too, letting himself drift…

A gentle, “Nooo, don’ wan’ go,” mumbled near Steve’s ear wakes him. Dustin clings to him, and Steve holds him tight and buries his nose in the boy’s curls.

“I’m just taking you up to bed, Dusty,” Eddie says, gentle hand on his brother’s shoulder.

“I can take him,” Steve announces sleepily, blinking to try and focus on his husband’s face. He shifts his arms, doing his best to cradle Dustin close and get an arm under his legs.

He tries to stand, but Eddie’s hand on his shoulder keeps him down as he leans to whisper in Steve’s ear, “Don’t think that’s a great idea, sweetheart. I don’t want you to strain anything, and you’re clearly too tired as it is.” He carefully peels away Steve’s arms, omega and pup both huffing small whines at the loss of contact, and picks Dustin up, tucking him to his neck to calm him.

Steve stands, getting a hand on Eddie’s shoulder and trailing behind him up the stairs. Walking gets his blood moving, wakes him up enough that he can dig through Dustin’s small chest of drawers and retrieve a nightshirt for the pup while Eddie gets him out of his clothes. Together, they have Dustin ready for bed in about a minute, Eddie tucking him in and Steve brushing a hand over his forehead, pushing his hair back from his face. “Night,” the pup mumbles as he turns on his side and presses his face into his pillow.

“Good night, Dusty,” Eddie says from the doorway, already leading Steve slowly from the room and back downstairs.

Once in their own bedroom, Steve rests his head against his husband’s shoulder and hums. Eddie easily wraps him in his arms, a purr rumbling through his chest. “Sweetheart, you need rest. Let’s get you ready for bed.”

“You too?” Steve asks sleepily, nuzzling forward to press his nose to Eddie’s neck and drawing in his scent. No matter how tired he is, Steve dislikes the very idea of sleeping without Eddie touching him. Two nights and he already can’t imagine going to bed alone.

“Me too, Stevie.” He drops a kiss to Steve’s temple and tugs him closer.

Steve rewards him with a smile as he lifts his head and leans in for a proper kiss. “Can you help me? Too tired for buttons.”

Eddie chuckles, cupping Steve’s cheek and kissing him again. “I can handle buttons,” he says, gently flicking open the placket of Steve’s shirtwaist, revealing his lace-trimmed chemise. His fingers trace over the lace, then move up to stroke over Steve’s collarbones. “Such a pretty package for my pretty wife,” Eddie murmurs, leaning in for another kiss.

Glowing at the compliment, Steve wants to keep kissing his husband forever. He’s too tired to do so, and certainly too tired to even consider attempting more, but it doesn’t stop the wanting. “Eddie…”

“I know, sweetheart. Let’s get you to bed.” Eddie pets his hair and strokes down his back. Focus shifted, he helps Steve change into his nightgown, then strips down to his underwear to join Steve in their bed. “Wanna touch you,” he whispers by way of explanation, “Feel your skin against mine.”

Steve has the same desire, perfectly happy to snuggle against Eddie’s chest, falling asleep in the span of a few deep breaths.

[steddieunderdogfics]

An Act of Grace by missberrycake

Rating: Teen and Up

71,388 words, 8/8 chapters

Archive Warning: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Tags: Minor Robin Buckley/Nancy Wheeler, Minor Joyce Byers/Jim "Chief" Hopper, Crime, Thriller, Murder, Mystery, Murder Mystery, 1910’s, Modern Era, Multi-Era, Period-Typical Homophobia, Historical Romance, True Crime Podcast, Podcasting, Happy Ending, POV Multiple, No Smut, Novel, steddiebang23

Summary:

On the morning after Broughton Hall’s annual summer fête, the body of a local Baron’s son was found on the grounds of the estate, as lifeless and cold as the morning was warm. Having spent the summer together, member of the household staff Edward Munson was the first to be suspected. As for the Baron’s son, perhaps there was more to him than the Baron would have society believe. Decades later, Max Mayfield comes across the murder of Steven Harrington while researching topics for the second season of her hit true crime podcast. Along with her some-time engineer and full-time ex-boyfriend, Lucas, Max uncovers a story of two people that, entwined in secrecy and truths left unspoken, reaches out across history.

Thanks for the rec! This recommendation is apart of our Writer's Wednesday! All of the recs today are written by Missberrycake. Want to nominate an author? Fill out this form!

You can submit fic recs to our asks or the submission box!

[justrambles]

(Beauty and the beast steddie)

No.6 — Stay

As Erica stated, the kids are nerds — surprisingly, even Erica herself.

So obviously the kids get interested in Eddie's stuff, the fantasy books and Dungeons and Dragons manuals and more (turns out they have been big fans of Lord of the Rings since the 50s). And now Eddie is indulging them in the world of fantasy within and beyond Lord of the Rings — that means, he's started to recount his memorable Dungeons and Dragons campaigns to them in the living room. He loves introducing dnd to kids, loved it when he ran the Hellfire club. He wonders if he can play it with these kids. Hopefully.

Eddie thinks he's got the time for it anyway. The storm is still evergoing, painting the world in a gray hue. He didn't expect to be staying here—for two days already— but he guesses it's nice. The kids. Nancy. Steve.

Steve. Since last night's talk, he already feels close to the guy. Eddie feels curious, about why he won't come out, and he nearly gets bitten by Erica when he spaces out thinking about Steve.

That's when a crow runs in.

It's a weird thing to say in your head. Why is it not flying? And how does a crow look so excited? But the kids all act like this is a normal occurrence, so Eddie decides to stay chill, too.

Not having noticed Eddie yet, (which is surprising because he is the biggest lump there) the crow urgently asks,

"Is the Eddie guy still here?"

And quickly finds him herself.

"Good, you're still here. You're staying. I mean, I'm not forcing you to stay, but I'd really like if you did. For a bit longer. You're like, a crazy good thing that's happened to us. Those dorks love you, Nance likes you okay too, And Steve, Steve likes you, he's in a good mood and that's—"

"ROBIN!"

The crow's rambling is only stopped by Steve's voice yelling from upstairs, and Eddie is honestly impressed. He's never seen anyone talk so fast, without control. The crow, Robin, only turns her head towards the stairs and shouts, "Shut up, dingus! I'm trying to do something here, for all of us!"

That causes Steve to grumble, very loudly, from upstairs and shut the door with a bang. Robin doesn't even flinch and turns back to Eddie.

"So, will you stay? With us, for a while?"

Eddie makes a pondering gesture, as if he's thinking it through thoroughly. The kids twitch beside him, waiting for his answer.

"I mean, I couldn't have left if I wanted to right now—not that I want to anyway— but yeah I'll stay, under one condition. That is, only if you answer this question."

"Shoot."

Eddie turns his expression serious, as if he's asking the most difficult question to ever exist.

"Why are you not flying?"

He doesn't know how it's possible, but Robin gives him an incredulous look.

"Have you-, have you tried flying? It takes up more energy than you can imagine. Like, I flap my wings a bit and they get really tired, it gets sore for days after, so it's best if I walk. Or hitch a ride from Steve and Max."

And that... kind of makes sense, okay. So Eddie shrugs to show he's satisfied with the answer.

"Alright, guess I'll be staying then."

***

"So," Eddie begins, leaning his head on the doorframe.

"I guess I'll be in your hair for a while."

Steve's voice comes from behind the door, maybe as close to it as Eddie is right now.

"I guess you will be."

They are talking with the door between them again, Eddie and Steve. This is the fourth time it's happening, because Eddie couldn't stay away after last night and just came back to the door whenever he could. He kind of likes talking like this, he's never talked through doors and somehow it feels more private, more intimate.

"Eddie, about what Robin said—"

Eddie hums, recalling the talk from before.

"Don't-, don't feel pressured to stay, okay? We, uh, the kids love you here but that doesn't mean you have to stay for us. Do... whatever you want. Go wherever you want."

Eddie gives another hum.

"You know, Steve, thanks for the offer but I like it here. Don't have anywhere else to go, anyway. I was only moving out of Indiana because I finished high school and had nothing to do and nowhere to go. Had no place in mind, actually."

Maybe this is where I was supposed to end up.

"So... yeah. I'm not staying only for the kids but for me, too."

There's a pause.

"Yeah?" It's a soft question, looking for affirmation.

"Yeah," Eddie answers.

And then he hastily adds, "And for you, too— since you like me sooo much, Stevie," just because he loves being a menace.

Eddie hears Steve's groan slip out through the crack and cackles.

"Well, don't worry— I like you too, man."

[stevieschrodinger]

Steve fiddles with the hem of the nightdress they'd given him to wear.

It’s soft at least, flowing and comfortable. White. Pure.

Virginal.

It barely covers the top of Steve’s thighs.

He tugs as the nightgown again, embarrassment ticking at him. It was the only thing he’d been given to wear though, so it’s either this or nude, which isn’t really an option. He’s still resentful of it though.

A large moth flutters across the room, the noise of it’s wings barely discernible over the crackle of the fire.

Steve's trapped in the castle; his only option is to wait for the monster to arrive.

[you-came-back]

Steve and Eddie but make it Our Flag Means Death

I recently created a cross over of Our Flag Means Death and Stranger Things. Here is a link to the fic as well!!

[theladycarpathia]

And My Waves Meet Your Shore Chapter 2: Quarter

The day after Chrissy makes her escape from Hawkins, one of the pirates knocks on her door.

She scrambles for the housecoat lent to her by Captain Munson and carefully pulls it around her before she opens it. She’d slept in her petticoat, the only piece of clothing she had that was suitable, but she’s not about to let anyone else see her in such a state. She hurriedly smooths down her hair, although she’s not entirely certain why.

The gentleman waiting for her outside is tall with curly brown hair and a rounded face. She’d seen him briefly the night before, deep in discussion with the captain. He holds out a large canvas bag and she carefully takes it.

“The captain thought you might like a change of clothes, miss,” he says, gesturing to her unexpected parcel. Chrissy feels a trickle of relief. She’d half expected to wear her heavy teal dress for another day or so. She’d feel so out of place among the pirates with their colorful waistcoats, gleaming belt buckles, and sturdy boots.

“Thank you…” Chrissy says, remembering her manners and then trails off. She doesn’t know his name. Yesterday she’d been brought aboard and taken to one of the few private rooms that are kept for higher ranking members of the crew or their paying passengers. It’s very simple - a single bed and table bolted to the floor, a hook on the back of the door. There’s a small mirror attached to the wall, and a box under the bed to store valuables. She’d immediately locked her bag away in there, well aware that it’s everything she now owns in the world.

“Gareth, miss,” he says, not at all affronted. “The Captain would like to see you for breakfast in his quarters when you’re dressed.”

There’s an excited shiver down her spine. Yesterday she’d eaten in her room, bread and cheese and meat delivered to her on a tray. Captain Munson had thought it best they be far away from Hawkins before she stepped out on deck. She hadn’t minded so much. The bread was fresh, the slices of ham were delicious and she’d laid back and listened to the crashing of the waves. She was going, she was going.

“Thank you, Gareth,” she says, because she’s still Lady Christine underneath. She could be sixty and she’d still remember how to waltz and how to use her soup spoon like a lady. “I’ll be along shortly.”

Inside a bag are several simple cotton dresses - a pale sky blue, a foamy ocean green, a bright sunflower yellow. Each one is soft and lightweight, much more suited to a life at sea than the heavy teal skirts and corset that she escaped with. She closes the door and looks over her choice, finally pulling out the green dress with the long sleeves and a delicate neckline. She pulls it on over her undergarments and carefully brushes her hair, leaving it down over her shoulders.

She did not pick this dress because she thinks Captain Munson would like it.

But her fingers still tremble when Gareth returns to escort her to the captain’s quarters.

It’s quiet when they cross the deck, only a few crew members already up and at work. The same cabin boy from yesterday mops the deck and there’s a glint up in the crow’s nest as the lookout keeps watch. What startles her is the pirate’s flag hanging from the mast, the sharp white of the crossbones against the bright blue of the sky. The Hellfire takes down the flag sailing into ports but somehow it’s still shocking to her that these men are all pirates. All she’s encountered so far is kindness and good manners.

They head down into the cabin at the stern of the ship, where the captain lives. Chrissy raises another nervous hand to her hair as Gareth raps at the door.

“Enter!” comes a voice from inside and when Gareth opens the door, she finds herself urged inside. Clearly, Gareth is not meant to join them.

When the door shuts behind her, she forgets her nerves and stares around the space in amazement. It’s an Aladdin’s cave of treasures: a mahogany jewelry box, overflowing with thick chains and large rings of silver, beautiful portraits hung on the walls, heavy looking rugs woven with gold string. There’s a large wardrobe, with elaborate carved mermaids on the doors tucked away in a corner and to the far side of the room there’s a bed, messily made, and she hurriedly turns her eyes away from it. She’s hesitant to think of the captain sleeping there, his long dark hair spread across one of the silk pillows.

There’s a grand window right in front of her, the bright morning light falling onto a dining table laid for breakfast for two. But she doesn’t see this, just the man staring out at the endless blue.

“Good morning,” Chrissy says shyly and he turns. His eyes are soft as they look her over, taking in the hair curling around her ears, the shade of green against her pale skin. She resists the urge to tug on her sleeves, wondering if she's presentable. Her shoes are the pair that she’d escaped with, teal slippers that don’t quite match, and she lacks any sort of ribbon for her hair. But when she sees him smile, she no longer minds.

“Good morning, my lady,” he says warmly. “Did you sleep well?”

“I did,” Chrissy says, to her surprise. She hadn’t expected it, not when the sounds and smells are so different from her family’s country estate. The tang of salt in the air, the thrash of the waves against the wood, the early morning calls of the crew as they work. But she’d fallen asleep so easily, the lead weight buried in her chest suddenly lightened. “Thank you. And thank you for the dresses. I wasn’t sure what else to wear this morning.”

Captain Munson drags out a chair for her to sit in and then takes his place. Chrissy inhales the smell of fresh bread, the sweet smell of strawberries, and the rich scent of coffee. There’s too much food and she wonders if he’s made the extra effort for her sake.

“You left with so little and we have some supplies onboard,” he says, deftly removing his hat and placing it on the table. “I hope you don’t mind - I chose the dresses I thought you would like.”

“I do,” Chrissy assures him. “They’re wonderful.” She touches the soft cotton of her skirts, thinking how her mother would hate that she was wearing anything other than silk or fur or linen. Chrissy is used to petticoats and corsets, several layers of heavy material, gilt-tipped pins in her hair.

“Please help yourself,” Captain Munson says, seeing her eyes flick over the bowls of porridge and the freshly cut fruit. “I apologize for you being confined to your rooms last night. It seemed safest, just in case your betrothed happened to catch wind of your disappearance before we were fully out to sea. You said he was a merchant?”

Chrissy has to stop herself from piling her bowl of porridge too high, covering it with a fine layer of brown sugar and slices of fresh strawberries. She doesn’t protest when the captain fills her cup with steaming hot coffee.

“He is,” she says, dipping her spoon into the thick, gooey concoction. “And he often sails to other ports to trade. He has many friends along this coast, as far as Red Lake.”

“Is that so?” Captain Munson notes, filling his own plate with bread, eggs, sausage and ham. Chrissy places the spoon on her tongue and nearly swoons. This is so much better than the watery porridge that she was served at home.

“If that’s the case, I think we’d better amend the agenda,” he says thoughtfully. “I had intended for us to stop at a nearby fishing port to purchase some supplies for yourself. However, if his reach extends this far out of Hawkins then perhaps you can supply us with a list. I have a few women on my crew and they’re more than capable of fetching what you need.”

Chrissy swallows her mouthful far too quickly in her excitement and it burns all the way down her throat. But she doesn’t care. She can have soap and fresh slippers and a matching ribbon for her new dresses.

“Thank you,” she says. “I’m very grateful. But won’t your crew mind?” Captain Munson snorts in amusement, and stabs at another sausage for his plate. Somehow the large quantities of food he’d served himself have already decreased at an impressive speed.

“Far from it. The men usually get the fun jobs of going into town to trade, especially in less savory places like Driscoll. They’ll be delighted to wander around the local shops to gather what you need. After you’ve eaten, I’ll find you some paper and a pencil.”

“Thank you, Captain Munson,” she says again, wondering if she’s able to say anything else and he smiles. When her stomach churns, she tells herself that it’s just the porridge.

“Edward,” he corrects. “Or Eddie, if your manners permit you.”

“Edward,” she says, trying out the name on her tongue. The look he gives her when she says his name is just as sweet as the fruit on her plate.

XXX

He’s true to his word and brings her paper as soon as the plates have been cleared away. She twirls the quill between her fingers and considers what might be the priority items. She’s not used to having to use what possessions to have, not when she’s been given every single whim her heart ever desired. But she’s quick and thorough, choosing the necessary amenities that will see her through a brief life on the ship.

Captain Munson looks over her note briefly and nods, tucking it away in a breast pocket.

“I’ll give this to the ladies,” he says, and offers her an arm to escort her. They’re mere miles up the coast from Hawkins and she’ll have to stay on board when the ship docks for a while. This close to her former home, there will be plenty of people who might recognise her. It’s a risk that they can’t take.

“How did you come to have women on board?” Chrissy asks curiously, settling her arm neatly into his as though she’s done it all of her life. “I thought pirates viewed female sailors as bad luck.” Eddie chuckles.

“I view these two as bad luck, although not because they’re women,” he says dryly. “You’ll understand when you meet them. Robin, in particular, is always getting me into a world of trouble. The girl’s mouth runs a mile a minute, often without her brain in tow.”

“I look forward to meeting them,” Chrissy says, a little delighted that she will have company during her journey. She’s so used to the presence of other women around her. Nancy and Barbara have been her friends since their debutante days. Carol and Tina making little jokes at the dinner table, Heidi bemoaning Lord Harrington’s lack of interest in having a space on her dance card. She is used to perfume and chatter, talking to each other from behind their fans.

She misses Nancy more than she can say, the lack of her friend feeling like a gaping wound in her side. Nancy has always been there, even after she wed a local boy. When Chrissy went to her for help, she and Jonathan had immediately offered a plan and their aid.

On deck, there is a clamor of activity already and Chrissy looks around with interest. A young lad with dark hair and a pale face pauses in mopping the deck to make way for Chrissy and Eddie to pass. There’s a figure up in the crow’s nest, a spyglass pressed to his eye, watching for danger on the horizon. Even pirate ships are never truly safe on the seas, fearing ambush from a rival crew or being spotted by the royal navy. The Hellfire are cautious, taking care to lower their flag when they’re near any proper civilisation.

Captain Munson takes her down the stairs to the dining area and Chrissy immediately spots a young woman with short, red hair, wearing a pirate’s bandana around her neck. She has a pretty, elfin face, with a small nose and a rosebud mouth. To her shock and delight, Chrissy spots that the girl is wearing trousers, like the men do, in a fading blue color, fraying around the ankles. The shirt she wears is a man’s - tied instead of buttoned at the waist - as are the sturdy pair of boots and she sloshes water over them as she mops.

“Vickie!” Edward calls and the girl looks up. “Come meet our guest.”

“More strays, Cap?” she asks cheekily, as she takes Chrissy in. Edward fondly rolls his eyes at her and Chrissy feels a low prickle of jealousy in her gut. She hadn’t considered the ramifications of other women being on the ship. But when she sees Edward ruffle Vickie’s hair, the shards of envy fade away. Clearly, their relationship is not a romantic one.

“This is our paying guest,” Edward corrects her. “This is…Christine Cunningham. She’s sailing for a new life further up the coast and we have the honor of taking her.” He’s missed off her title for a purpose, she realizes. Better to not make a fuss of nobility fleeing her home. Young women strike out to seek their fortunes every day…just not ladies of Chrissy’s rank.

“Hello,” Vickie says cheerfully and extends her hand. Startled, Chrissy takes it.

“Hello,” Chrissy says shyly. There’s a clatter behind them and a loud bang, followed by some words Chrissy only ever heard from the men by the servants’ entrance.

“That is Robin,” Edward informs her helpfully. “And you can see why she gets me into trouble more often than not.” Vickie playfully swipes at his arm.

“She’s not that bad,” she protests, as another young woman emerges from the swing door of the galley, caked in flour. She wears a similar outfit - beige trousers, a loose red shirt, her dirty blonde hair pulled back from her face with yet another bandana, and absolutely all of it covered in a thin layer of white. She stops dead when she sees the Captain. “That was not my fault, Cap,” she says immediately, brushing off her hands into clouds of fine white dust. Vickie sighs heavily, as it settles onto a previously clean patch of floor.

“Whose fault was it?” Edward asks, but his face is immeasurably fond. He clearly loves these women, enough for him to ignore any disapproval of their place on board the ship. “That wretched cat for not doing his job,” Robin grumbles and her face is sheepish when she spots the mess that she’s made, a winding trail of flour following her footsteps all the way from the kitchen. “We have mice again.”

“It’s not Larry’s fault,” Vickie insists immediately, folding her arms across her chest.

“Given that Larry is meant to be a pirate cat and his only job is to catch mice, he’s certainly failing at it,” Edward sighs. “Ladies, I actually did have a job in mind for you, if you are done bickering and making a mess of my ship?”

“Oh?” Robin asks, and Chrissy can see her eyes flick inquisitively over her. She wasn’t seen by many of the crew when she arrived yesterday, and she was settled in a guest cabin almost immediately. “How’s that, Cap?”

“Miss Cunningham here left home quite suddenly and is in need of a few items,” Edward explains. “I thought perhaps that you both might be interested in going ashore to retrieve them for her?” Vickie drops the mop in her excitement, all mentions of flour forgotten.

“Really?” she asks, exchanging a gleeful look with Robin. Eddie pulls Chrissy’s list from his pocket with two fingers and dangles it in front of the two girls.

“Really,” he says and then tugs it away again before Vickie can grab it. “But I want all of this cleaned up! And you must take someone with you. Driscoll isn’t a safe town. Have Fred or Argyle go with you.” Robin immediately pouts.

“Why have us go at all, if you’re having us chaperoned?” she complains, but she takes the offered list anyway.

“Because I don’t trust one of the men to fetch the correct items for Miss Cunningham,” Edward`says, perhaps entirely correctly. Chrissy has asked for undergarments, beauty products, and several hair ribbons. She’s not sure what one of these men would bring back for her, save for a barrel of ale.

Vickie flicks her eyes eagerly over the list. Robin wanders up behind and peers over her shoulder.

“Should be simple enough,” Vickie says, with a nod. She tucks the paper away into her trouser pocket and Chrissy marvels at the concept. Women wearing trousers. Pockets. As lovely as her new gown is, it lacks pockets.

Edward digs in his coat and pulls out a small velvet bag that clinks. Chrissy grips at his arm and he smirks.

“Don’t make that face at me,” he says, of her indignant expression. “I will not hear of it.”

“I’m supposed to pay my way!” she says furiously, because she suspected from the moment that she stepped on the ship that he was undercharging her. She does not want to be pitied or coddled just because she’s had a sheltered life.

“I’m sure we can arrange another method of compensation,” he says easily. “There’s always work to be done on a ship. Cooking, cleaning, sewing. Vickie and Robin can help you.” She scowls at him. Tasks that she doesn’t know how to do, tasks she was not allowed to do. Simple things that she will need to learn to survive.

“Did you plan this?” she asks suspiciously. There’s a glint in his eyes before he slides his arm away from her’s. She feels a momentary sense of loss before he gently raises her hand to his lips.

The brush of his mouth against her bare skin is enough to make her knees want to buckle. For a split second when his lips brush gossamer soft against her knuckles her entire world narrows down to the instant where she can feel him. So far, his only touches have been proper and gentlemanly, taking her arm and reaching out to steady her. This is something else and the hunger that claws its way out of her belly is only just successfully pushed back down below her rib-cage.

“I’m a pirate, Miss Cunningham,” he says, his eyes light, and her heart skitters furiously.

“Chrissy,” she corrects him. But he’s right - he’s a pirate and she should remember that.

He just smiles at her in that incredibly attractive and infuriating way and nods to the women, before leaving. Chrissy listens to his boots disappear up the steps and wonders if her face is as hot as she suspects that it is.

When she turns to look at Robin and Vickie, their faces tell her everything.

“What should I do?” Chrissy asks, self-consciously pressing a hand against her burning cheek. She’s never felt like that with a man before, ever. She’s had plenty of men kiss her hand in her time out in society. Lord Harrington has kissed her hand plenty, as has Duke Hagan. Mr Byers, Nancy’s new husband, has once or twice, and Jason in more recent months.

“Go upstairs and take a dunk in the ocean to cool off,” Robin says bluntly and Vickie neatly steps on her foot.

“It’s fine,” Vickie says hurriedly. “Don’t embarrass her!” Robin shrugs and runs a hand through her hair, shedding more white dust down onto the floor.

“Well, she should,” Robin continues calmly. “She looks as though she might need it. Or she can come stand in this mop bucket.”

“Ignore her,” Vickie says, throwing an annoyed look at Robin as she vanishes back through the doors into the kitchen. “I think she’s a little stunned. We’ve never seen Cap act like that with a woman before.”

“Really?” Chrissy asks, unable to stop the excitement rising in her voice. Vickie shrugs and picks up her mop again.

“Not really,” she says, dunking the mop into the dark bucket of water. “There was a bar wench a year back, I think? Very briefly while we were docked for a job.”

Chrissy watches the sloshing over the water over the floorboards rather than think about Edward and the tavern girl.

“It was a very long time ago,” Vickie says, seeing her face. She offers Chrissy the handle of the mop. “Here. You can get to grips with the basics of mopping before we arrive at Driscoll.”

Chrissy makes a mess of mopping while Vickie sweeps up Robin’s stray trail of flour. Where the woman herself has gone, Chrissy doesn’t know.

“So how did you come to book passage with us?” Vickie asks politely and Chrissy tightens her hands around her mop. She’s glad that Vickie’s face is turned away so that she can’t see Chrissy’s obvious indecision. She’s not used to lying.

“My family,” she says instead, opting for the half-truth. “They had plans for me. Expectations.” Vickie snorts.

“None of which aligned with your actual plans for your life?” she asks.

“No,” Chrissy agrees. “So I just…decided that it would be best to leave. Start fresh.”

“Well,” Vickie says, neatly chasing the flour that has crept into the corners. “If it helps, you’re not the only one. Robin and I…we don’t have the best relationships with our families. Or any relationship at all, really.” Chrissy can’t miss the dark note of bitterness coloring Vickie’s tone.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Chrissy says and then frowns as she forgets to wring out the mop again. But Vickie shrugs - whatever estrangement she has is merely a fact of life to her now, something that settles over her like a familiar, worn old coat. Chrissy wonders if she will feel like that in a few years, wondering about her parents, her brother. She feels a twinge at the thought of Andrew but she pushes it away. He’s heir, so he’ll have no shortage of opportunities and a suitable marriage when the time comes.

“Sometimes, the people who love us only think of the things that are best for themselves,” Vickie says pragmatically and lifts her head up as the kitchen door creaks on its hinges. “There you are!”

Robin emerges, free of the smears of white that had caked her chest and head, her face washed clean. She looks over Chrissy’s sloppy mopping but she doesn’t say anything. Instead she runs her fingers through her hair, looking pleased.

“I cleaned up,” she says. Vickie shakes her head and rests her chin on her mop. There’s an achingly fond smile on her face and there’s something about the softness of it that feels familiar.

“You left us with the flour out here though!” she admonishes. “I just hope that the kitchen is clean for dinner. Help Chrissy with that mop.”

But before Robin can move, there’s a shout from overheard and a sudden clamor. It means nothing to Chrissy but both girls suddenly look delighted. Vickie leans her broom against the wall and gestures to Chrissy in excitement.

“We’re arrived!” she says, and indicates that Chrissy should leave her task. “Come see!”

Chrissy looks hesitantly at her work and then agrees. Hopefully, Edward will not see the wet clumps before she returns.

They pile up the stairs into the glare of the sunshine and find the deck in a flurry of activity. Chrissy watches with amazement at the men rushing back and forth, pulling on ropes, and shouting to each other. She follows Vickie and Robin to the rail and leans over to see Driscoll come into view.

Captain Munson is at the helm, his hand resting on the beautiful carved wheel. She watches the feather in his hat rippling in the wind and thinks that she’s never seen him look so at ease. He belongs on this ship, in a way that she used to fit in a crowded ballroom.

There’s a dim ache in her chest that she refuses to look at too closely, so she turns her head away towards the promising gleam of shore.

XXX

Chrissy changes into a sunny yellow gown for her first meal with the crew. Old habits are hard to break, after all.

The dining area is as loud as the very tavern where she first met Edward, the constant chatter and laughter, the familiar clank of tankards. She sticks close to Vickie and Robin as they lead her to the hatch where they retrieve full bowls and mugs. Chrissy wobbles slightly as she follows them back to a table with her tray. She’s managed to keep her grace so far on board, even managing to control the nausea that comes with the constant rocking of the ship.

The table they sit down at is at the back of the room, much smaller than the large tables that hold the men. Chrissy puts down her tray before she takes her seat and hopes that the waves don’t become too choppy.

They’re not alone, as the crew picked up another female passenger in Driscoll. She’s already sitting down, dunking her spoon into her bowl, roughly cut dark hair falling into her eyes.

“Thank you for getting those things for me,” Chrissy says gratefully, even though she’s already profusely thanked both of them. Spread across her small bunk are the assorted items that the girls had delivered to her this afternoon. To her delight, they’d successfully retrieved everything she’d asked for. A new bar of soap, a comb, some rouge, assorted undergarments, a nightshirt, hair ribbons and a new pair of slippers.

But Robin just waves off her gratitude. “Not at all. It was good to get off the ship for a while. Cap never lets us do the fun stuff.”

“She means the dangerous stuff,” Vickie says wryly, reaching for the water jug. “There are a few female pirates but they’re lethal. I suppose they have to be.”

“I didn’t know there were any,” Chrissy says, a little surprised. Robin shrugs. She’s still wearing the same red shirt and trousers that she’d had on earlier but Vickie has changed into a sage green dress, the color suiting her red hair.

“I only really know of two,” she admits. “And they’re deadlier and more ruthless than most male pirates. It’s the only way they’d be taken seriously. Eddie can afford to be a little amiable but any woman in this business would be called soft if they did what he does. Speaking of...” Robin licks her spoon clean and jabs it at the door. Chrissy twists in her seat and, to her shock, spots a familiar figure striding in the door.

“He’s not like the other captains,” Robin says, spotting Chrissy’s wide eyes. “He won’t hide in his quarters away from us. There aren’t any other captains who’d have us aboard anyway. Eddie’s special.”

Chrissy hides her face by raising her mug for a sip that she doesn’t even want. She’s been beginning to suspect as much herself.

She watches Eddie stride through the room and tries to smother her nerves as he gets closer. He pats a young man on the back, makes a quick comment to another and then pauses as he reaches their table. He looks hesitant when he sees her, and it’s the first time he’s ever looked truly uncertain. This is her first night as part of the ship and it’s almost as though he’s thrown by it.

“Cap?” Robin asks, pausing in the middle of her bowl. It’s some sort of seafood stew, hot and thick with tomatoes and Chrissy - who is used to bland vegetables, watery potatoes, and delicate cuts of chicken - has enjoyed it far more than she expected to.

“May I join you ladies?” he asks, and Robin’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. Their small table is exclusively women - the three of them, and Eden Bingham that they picked up in Driscoll.

“Of course,” Vickie says, when everyone else is too stunned to speak. She shifts a few bowls over, earning herself a dirty look from Eden when she nearly tips the young woman’s water glass right over.

“Thank you,” Edward says, easing himself down into one of the spare chairs. He removes his hat and politely drops it into his lap. Chrissy pulls her arms into her body, suddenly afraid that she might reach out, overcome with the urge to graze his hand.

“What brings you here, Cap?” Robin asks and shrugs when Vickie shoots her a look. “I can ask! It’s allowed, isn’t it?” Edward chuckles, and accepts the bowl that’s been brought to him by another crew member. Chrissy has had little opportunity to learn their names. She recognises Jeff and Gareth, Edward’s first mates and his right hand men, who are often by his side. Both have been unfailingly polite to her and she has to wonder if they behave this way with all guests or whether it’s at the Captain’s request.

“I thought I’d come and see how our new guests are settling in,” he says and judging by Robin’s raised eyebrows, this isn’t something that she believes.

“Because you’re so usually interested in our paying customers?” she says pointedly and there’s a brief scuffle under the table as Vickie tries to tread on her friend’s foot. This appears to be a common occurrence.

“I can be,” Edward says and there’s a distinct edge to his tone, something that causes Robin to pick up her spoon once more. “Miss Bingham, Miss Cunningham, are you well?” Chrissy mutely nods. Eden shrugs and places a small bite of bread on her tongue. Their new traveling companion is far from chatty, with dark hair and matching eyes set into a pale face.

“We’ll drop you in Montmouth in a few days' time,'' Edward says to her, clearly not bothered by the less than social attitude of their passenger. Chrissy is a little unsure of how or why Eden came to be on the Hellfire but she supposes that it’s Eden’s business, given her own lies.

“Sure,” Eden says easily, and she’s the one least phased by the Captain’s appearance to dine with them.

“And Miss Cunningham…?” Edward says hesitantly and Chrissy accidentally drops her spoon back into her bowl.

“Yes?” she says, hurriedly checking that no flecks of bright red have made it onto her dress.

“I know that you didn’t have a destination in mind but I may have found a place for you,” Edward says. “Vickie here has some family up south, in a little town named Frostproof. It’s fairly quiet, without a particularly large or busy port. There’s a train station nearby and you could go anywhere you want.”

Back in Hawkins, Chrissy would have adored the sound of that. Miles up the coast, and able to climb onto a train to go anywhere she wanted, starting anew. But she catches the tension at the corner of his mouth and thinks that he dislikes this suggestion as much as she does. She can go anywhere…but it will only take her farther away from him. “I have cousins I still send letters to,” Vickie says, perhaps not noticing the sudden and strange atmosphere. Chrissy stares into her bowl rather than at Edward. She’s known him for two days. She can’t be considering changing her plans for a man that she only just met.

“I’ll write to them to let them know that we’re coming,” Vickie continues and reaches for her butter knife. “I’m sure they’ll be happy to let you stay with them until you’re on your feet.”

“Thank you,” Chrissy says quietly. It’s a huge imposition and she should be grateful for the effort that everyone is going to on her behalf. She twirls her spoon in her bowl, suddenly no longer hungry.

“We’ll take care until we’re further up the coast,” Edward says. “And I trust that both of you will show them where to go should we run into any trouble?” He looks pointedly at Robin and Vickie. Robin swallows her mouthful and looks indignant.

“We’ll show them tomorrow, Cap,” and Edward gives her a look.

“You’ll show them tonight, in case we are boarded before dawn,” he says mildly and Eden visibly brightens.

“Are you often attacked by other pirates?” she asks curiously. Robin scoffs.

“Hardly,” she says disdainfully. “Not with a reputation like the Hellfire.” Edward takes pity on Eden and leans in to explain.

“Not often,” he says, to Chrissy’s great relief. She’s not sure she finds a pirate siege quite as exciting as Eden does. “We have a large ship and a full crew, with plenty of weapons to fight back. Only someone foolish would think to try and board us.” Eden deflates.

“Are there any ships who would be able to take the ship?” She pushes and neither she nor Chrissy miss the wary glance exchanged between the three members of the Hellfire. “There’s one,” Robin admits reluctantly. “We’ve never encountered them personally. A jet black ship, manned by the devil himself.”

“He’s not actually a devil!” Vickie protests, although the change of topic has left her looking uneasy. “But…he might be the closest thing there is to one.”

“They say he was a lord once,” Edward adds. “With a grand manor and many carriages and more money than half of England.”

“What happened?” Chrissy asks, curious despite herself. She catches sight of Eden leaning forward in her chair too, equally intrigued.

“People say he lost his mind,” Robin says, with a shrug. “Went half mad and vanished off the face of the Earth, reappearing several years later as the cruel and feared captain of the Chronos. But if you ask me, the change wasn’t all that sudden or unexpected.”

“Henry Creel’s family were all murdered when he was young,” Edward says, scraping his spoon around his bowl. “Mother, father, young sister, grandfather, an aunt…all butchered in their home. Some say that his father was still sitting in his chair clutching his spoon, waiting for his morning porridge.”

“The culprit was never caught,” Robin continues and Eden’s eyes are as wide as saucers. Their new companion is no pirate but she certainly has strange, bloodthirsty tastes. “Henry was the only one who survived. Out riding, so he claims,” she says, pointedly tapping her nose. “Bit convenient, if you ask me.”

“All rumors,” Edward says, catching sight of Chrissy’s face. “But…Henry was notorious even before the murders. He was an odd fellow, so I gathered. Too fascinated by the occult. He kept cages of large, poisonous spiders.”

“And now he’s a pirate,” Eden breathes. “Have you ever encountered him?”

“No,” Edward says coolly, dropping his spoon back into his bowl, every bit of stew devoured. “Not face to face. I’ve seen the devastation he’s left behind. Ships blown to bits, bodies left in the water, everything pillaged and ransacked. I am responsible for the safety of my crew and I will not take any risk that Henry Creel will ever have the slightest chance to board us.”

“Which is why should there ever be a chance that we’re about to be boarded, we have a place to hide,” Vickie says, pushing away her own empty bowl. “It’s a hidey hole down below in the storage area and can’t be found unless you know where to look. We’ve had to use it once before, not long after we joined the crew.” “If there’s any trouble at all, that is where you go,” Edward says, firmly, looking between Eden and Chrissy. “Anything at all. Captain Creel aside, there are still plenty of dangers out there. That may be the life that we signed up for but I’m aware that my passengers did not.”

The conversation becomes lighter after that, returning to upcoming stops, the chores list, necessary supplies. Eden quietly eats her portion of fruit and doesn’t join in again until the meal is over.

Very briefly, when most of the crew have vanished back to their various duties, Chrissy notices how Vickie’s arm rests so easily against Robin’s, the inevitable closeness of their bodies as they lean in to talk to each other. It’s not much but it reminds her of how new young couples used to look in dark corners of the ballrooms. The reason why both women left their homes for a pirate ship becomes startlingly clear.

Finally, when Chrissy feels herself begin to yawn, Vickie rests a hand on her shoulder, indicating that she and Eden should come quickly to see the bolthole for them to hide in. It appears that their captain doesn’t give too many orders but when he does, they are to be immediately obeyed.

“Good night, Miss Cunningham,” Edward says and Chrissy pauses.

“Goodnight, Captain,” she says, and follows Vickie out.

XXX

“Who’s the girl?” Jeff asks curiously, once Chrissy’s long red hair has vanished out of the door. Eddie has joined his usual table and it appears that his meal with the women has not gone unnoticed.

“A passenger,” Eddie says briefly. Most of his crew have drifted away back to their regular duties, or to play card games down below. Even so, he’s not willing to divulge Lady Cunningham’s real identity. “She joined us at Hawkins. Approached me in the Hawk and Dog yesterday. She was willing to pay.”

Jeff raises an eyebrow and reaches for his tankard. Judging by the flush to their cheeks, it may be one drink of ale too many this evening.

“You never normally sit with the passengers,” he points out, his tone deliberately casual. Eddie catches sight of Gareth’s smirk into his bowl.

He’d known that it would draw attention but somehow he’d been unable to resist the urge to be near her. She only has a limited time aboard and Eddie wants to make the most of it. Because before he knows it, she’ll be gone and the only one left to remember that she was even here will be himself. The sea, the floorboards of the Hellfire, even the crew…they’ll all forget after some time. He won’t. Some experiences - some people - carve themselves into your heart that way the ocean wears away at the cliffs.

“Well, I have done today,” Eddie retorts frostily. He reaches out to the bowl in the middle of the table. He’ll finish his meal in his cabin. He palms an orange and shoves it in a coat pocket.

“I thought we were going to discuss that job?” Jeff asks mildly but Eddie stands anyway.

“Tomorrow,” Eddie says. He’s in no mood to discuss work tonight. Every time he has to leave her, he finds himself at a strange sort of unease, like an itch under his skin was soothed without him even realizing it.

He stalks back to his quarters and shuts the door. He half wonders if he’d made a mistake but even as the thought crosses his mind, he knows that he didn’t. He never could have left her there in the Hawk and Dog, destined to marry someone she doesn’t love. But he’s going to have to come to terms with the fact that it wasn’t purely goodness or out of pity that persuaded him to bring her on board the ship.

He drops down into a chair, looking out of the window across the dark sea. He loves nights like these, where the ocean meets the sky in the same stormy blue. He digs the orange out of his pocket and carefully peels it, very aware that only this morning Chrissy had sat in this chair.

Seeing her eat with the crew this evening had provoked the same sort of feeling in his chest. A strange wistfulness that comes with knowing something isn’t permanent. And he’s about to have three weeks of that same feeling, three long weeks until they reach the balmy southern waters of Frostproof.

Eddie places a section of orange into his mouth. He should be thinking of work, because that’s what his role requires. He’s responsible for every soul, to make sure that they stay fed and well armed, that they have enough to keep sailing. There’s trades to be made, cleaning to get done, the occasional threat made in a public enough place to keep his reputation alive and well. He doesn’t have time to sit and think about the curve of her cheek, the strands of ribbon in her brilliant hair, the expression on her face as she’d first seen the Hellfire.

But as the moon climbs higher in the sky, that is all he does.

[starshideurfics]

Thirsty Thursday - Wedding Night

historical, aob, steddie, the sensuality of see-through silk tulle

Steve has given plenty of thought to his trouseau, ensuring he has enough step-ins and slips and nightgowns to last his entire two week honeymoon.

But the most important piece is the one he will change into once he and Eddie leave their wedding reception. The silk is gossamer fine, concealing nothing.

He pets over his beautiful boudoir suit, knows his mother would call it a frivolous waste.

And it is. 

On his wedding night, Steve changes, every part of him on display as he lounges coquettishly at the foot of the bed. 

Eddie enters, still in his suit, pulling at the knot in his bowtie, his jaw practically dropping to the floor when he sees Steve. All of Steve.

He shucks his coat, throwing it on a chair. His waistcoat follows as he growls, “My love, what a surprise you are.”

“You like it?” Steve asks, coy as he drags a hand up his thigh, drawing Eddie’s gaze.

“Oh, darling, you put Venus to shame with your loveliness.”

Eddie struggles to remove his cufflinks, all the studs from his shirt front, jet and gold and mother-of-pearl falling to the floor—a problem for the morning—as he casts off his shirt and suspenders. His trousers go next, leaving only his drawers.

Steve stands, lets Eddie embrace him, his husband sucking hungry kisses along his jaw and down his neck. 

Their mouths meet, and Steve knows he’s already begun to ruin the silk with his slick.

Stepping back, taking a much needed breath, Eddie’s eyes rove over Steve’s body. He traces over a rosy nipple, runs his fingers down to Steve’s hips. Cups the round swell of his buttocks. Whispers, “Mrs. Munson, let me taste you.”

“Yes, alpha. I’m all yours,” Steve whispers back, melting into a kiss as Eddie undoes the tiny buttons down his back.

Soon he will know the pleasure of his alpha’s knot. The beauty of the marriage bed.

It took fewer than ten minutes for him to be naked, in his husband’s arms.

He may as well have started out naked.

A frivolous expense.

But he felt so beautiful wearing it.

[hellcheerficdatabase]

Defy Not the Heart

Author: @phoenixwrites

Rating/Warning: Explicit

Chapter Count: 1/9

Description: When Lady Barbara and Lady Christiana of Hawkhaven's castle is invaded and conquered, they are forced to play hostess to Lord Neil of Hargrove's sons--the charming and womanizing heir, Billy, and the bastard son Eddie. Barb and Billy despise each other on sight, but Chrissy and Eddie lock eyes and fall in love instantly. Sparks ensue, scandals erupt, and Hawkhaven will never be the same again...

Tags: Alternate Universe- historical au, enemies to lovers, love at first sight, it also has babrgrove, so GOOD, angst, smut, bodice ripper, let's get that bread, tags will be updated more in the future, alternating POV, multiple chapters, status: WIP

[thefreaksrecs]

OH MY GODDDDDDDDD

i’m so enraptured by this little world already! i swear i will never get tired of your writing, it’s so gorgeous and engaging.

i literally cannot wait to dive into part two

When the Wolfsbane Blooms | part i | e.m. x reader au

Summary | September 1916. Edward Munson is back in Hawkins after 13 years, returning to live with his uncle who serves as groundskeeper to the Talbot Estate. Upon his return it’s as if nothing has changed... except the Talbot daughter, who wasn’t nearly so striking back when they were children. But a strange danger seems to coincide with Eddie’s arrival, and all it takes is one fateful night to expose him to exactly what this danger is…

Tags & Warnings | 18+, angsty horror romance, fem reader, depictions of violence and death, smut and nsfw themes, reader last name for plot purposes, use of some 3rd person narrative, historical inaccuracies

A.N | Sooo, this was supposed to be a oneshot for Halloween, but the plot got away from me, and now we've got a big fic. Due to the premise and time period, Eddie may be ooc, but I tried my best to make him fit the era, and the vibes are so worth it!

W.C | 10.3k

!! MINORS DNI !!

“The way you walked was thorny…”

August 1900

The Talbot Estate was a wonder in the late summer, its grounds awash with blooming colors of calendulas and borages, of dahlias and cosmos. To you, it seemed the soil was rich with magic and splendor, for how could the hands of man ever maintain something quite so beautiful? It couldn’t be the hard work of the groundskeeper, always watering and weeding, slaving away under the hot sun for the sake of your family’s gardens - no, it was clearly the power of fairies or sprites that grew the flowers so vivid and the trees so high.

Although the extensive gardens were forever stunning, you favored the surrounding fields as your playground instead, the wild and untamed things far more exciting than the lavish flowerbeds and neat rows of vegetables. It was the rolling hills and woodlands of the seemingly endless Talbot Estate where wonder truly lied, although many days you may have been the only one to see it. Surrounded by the tall grass and wildflowers and imposing trees, you were an explorer - not a mere girl of eight, but a true adventurer of the world, awaiting her next great discovery.

When the days were warm and the sun was high, you could always be found skipping over tangling tree roots or lying amongst the wild helenium. And such is where you were found this lovely August afternoon, snuck upon by the groundskeeper's ward, Edward, the only person in the entire world perhaps more rascally than yourself; or so you thought, as your whole world had only ever consisted of your family grounds and the nearby town of Hawkins.

“You’ll be stung to death if you lie here all day.” The boy’s playful words startled you out of your lazy reverie, having been soothed nearly to sleep by the buzzing of insects around your head. He plopped down to sit beside you, his knobby knee bumping your leg with impatient, childish glee. With a smile wide enough to show off your two missing teeth, you sat up eagerly with a stretch of your arms, your dress wrinkled and the hem stained green from the grass; grass so tall you were both hidden from sight, like two predators stalking their prey.

“The bees wouldn’t dare sting me, we’re good friends.” You argued, delighting in the way Edward grinned back at you and your fanciful way of thinking. He made a conspiratory look, that familiar face he always pulled when he was about to share a tall tale - Edward had always been a storyteller, and you the ever attentive listener.

“You think of them as your friends?” He leaned forward, and so you did the same, coming close enough that he could whisper his closely guarded secret, “No, they fool you. Their queen has it out for you, you know, she’s instructed they play nice to lull you into a false sense of security.”

You giggled into your dirt-covered hand, Edward’s eyes twinkling at how easily he could amuse you, “And what does the queen have against me?”

Although he was only nine years old (nearly ten, he had a habit of reminding you recently), Edward had such control of his face that sometimes you thought he was ninety. His expression became gravely serious, he looked around as if fearful the bees may hear the two of you, leaning even closer while cupping his hand around your ear to keep those pesky eavesdroppers from listening.

“She is jealous. You are like Snow White, ‘a thousand times more fair.’”

Your cheeks grew hot, so easily charmed by Edward’s words; you hid behind your hands, smile large and eyes shining. His own ears were pink despite the proud, confident look on his face; you stared at one another, both nearly too embarrassed to speak.

“Eddie, you are a terrible liar.” You said with a grin, nervously picking at the grass by your feet, getting its threads stuck beneath your fingernails.

“Liar?” He questioned mischievously, “But it was no exaggeration.”

You stared at your feet, unable to look him in the eye. You were too young to truly understand the vastness of emotions blooming between you two this past summer, to know exactly the words for why you looked upon this silly boy as if he were the sun. But you were intelligent enough to know that you felt for him differently than you had before, to know that perhaps this was some child-like semblance of puppy love.

You carefully glanced up at him through your lashes, another conspiring look passing between the two of you, “If you’re caught speaking like that, Edward Munson, they may force you to marry me.”

With a charmed smile, Edward shook his head, eyes alight as he stared back at you, “Oh, Ms. Talbot, I don’t think they’ll allow it.”

“Good.” You said defiantly, rising to your feet and dusting off your skirts, useless as it may be. You squinted against the sunlight as you looked across the fields; your family estate in the distance was like a foreboding beacon, one you quickly turned your gaze from, “Marriage wouldn’t suit me, I have the whole world to see, and a husband would simply hold me back.”

Edward stood with you, the breeze ruffling his hair as he stretched his arms up in the air, fingers splaying wide as if he could brush the clouds in the sky, “But do we not have the whole world here at our fingertips already?”

You two shared an innocent smile, and without a word of warning you quickly spun around and began traipsing through the flowers and weeds, happily going along knowing that Edward was sure to follow. His footfall was merely a step behind you, although with his long legs he could very easily surpass you in stride should he choose. But dutifully he allowed you to lead, and so you pumped your arms and legs a little faster.

“And what is here that I can’t find out there?” You questioned eagerly, bursting out of the grassiest part of the field which neighbored a small pond, one of many scattered about the expansive Talbot Estate. Bugs skated across the water’s surface, a bird glided past your head, a frog croaked somewhere from within a log.

“I’d bet there’s acres of this land that you haven’t seen.” Edward challenged, and you wondered if he’d grown taller recently - why did it feel as if you had to crane your head to look at him more than you did yesterday? You crossed your arms with a smart look, suspecting that he knew something that you didn’t, if that mischievous twinkle in his eye was any indicator.

“And you have?”

The excited smile that overtook his entire face was only confirmation that he had something to share, some new discovery that he was certain you’d absolutely delight in, “Do you know there’s a chapel on your family’s grounds?”

You made a curious face, having never heard about it before. Where could it possibly be hiding, and why had you not previously known of it? You shook your head with disbelief, although you were certainly eager for Edward to follow through and reveal this chapel’s secret hiding place to you.

“If we have a chapel, why hasn’t my father ever shown it to me?” You asked defiantly, debating that perhaps Edward was trying to trick you.

He gave the kind of noncommittal shrug that only a child could, his face showing annoyance that you didn’t believe him, “Maybe he doesn’t know either.”

“But he knows everything.” You argued with silly logic, causing Edward to laugh a little. That was the difference between eight years old and nearly ten years old, the difference between wealth and poverty - he’d stopped believing that his father knew everything long ago.

“I’ll show you.” He insisted stubbornly, although the light in his rich brown eyes gave away his excitement. Your own innocent expression grew wide with exhilaration, eager to see this supposed chapel with your own two eyes.

All it took was for you to nod once, and Edward grabbed your hand, running clumsily over rocks and through brush towards the most northern end of the Talbot property. It wasn’t an easy area to trek, less kempt than the rest of the estate, trees growing taller and wider as it edged along the expansive forest. Perhaps that’s why you’d never seen this chapel, as the northern property seemed far and wide, intimidating even the most adventurous of small children.

But with Edward’s companionship, the journey was exciting, full of wonder and endless curiosity. Eventually, you tugged your hand from his own, struggling to keep up with his longer legs, although you didn’t dare stop moving, else you might lose him amongst the brush and trees. You two laughed at nothing, simply happy for each other’s company, running and running for what felt like an eternity.

The roll of hills slowed you down, the tangle of branches caused brief pauses, but eventually Edward came to a stop, doubling over with his hands on his knees as he caught his breath. His cheeks were splotchy pink as his chest moved quickly, and you yourself had to sit upon a stump thanks to the burning of your calves. From your vantage point, you looked around, a chapel nowhere in sight, and you very nearly whipped your disappointed gaze onto Edward, to scold him for tricking you like this.

That is, until you finally saw it.

Peaking over bright green leaves, a stone spire just barely protruded, practically lost among the foliage. You gawked while rising back to your feet, both shocked and excited to see that Edward was, in fact, speaking the truth. The two of you shared a look, his face satisfied to be proven right, and you once more smiled from ear to ear before stomping down the hill to find the rest of the building.

The chapel stood derelict and decrepit, clearly forgotten about after what must have been a long time. The bricks were covered in moss and lichen, ivy crawling its way up corners and railings, abandoned birds’ nests littering windowsills and the belfry. Even from here, you could see that parts of the roof had caved in, that pieces of stone had worn away from the hands of time.

But curiously, the flowers appeared well-kept, planted fresh in spite of the chapel’s abandonment. It was a flower you recognized from your books of botany, although you weren’t quite certain yet which plant it was - amongst your books there were many beautifully drawn depictions of purple flowers upon sprawling stalks. What would compel someone to return to this ramshackle structure simply to maintain its blooms, you wondered.

You and Edward shared a look of both fear and excitement - although it was unspoken, you both had the sense that you weren’t supposed to be here, and that sent a buzz through your entire body. There was something daunting about the chapel, perhaps something even dangerous, and yet the thrill of that risk was all too gripping to ignore.

You tried to put on a brave face, even as you reached for Edward’s hand again; you held your chin high as if to hide your nerves, acting as if you grabbed his hand not for your sake, but for his. And he said nothing on the matter, squeezing your fingers in his own for reassurance, the both of you slowly approaching the imposing structure.

Those curious purple flowers kept your attention as you drew closer, the way they were planted all around the edges of the chapel - they were practically four walls of their own, a fence of sorts as if to adorn what was housed inside. Drawing closer, Edward reached his fingertips towards the enchanting petals, but you tugged at his other hand, as if the imminent danger suddenly jogged your little botanist memory.

“They’re poisonous.” The words fell delicately from your lips, Edward giving you a quizzical look as the pair of you stopped. You studied the flowers with trepidation, shrinking away from their reach, “Wolfsbane.”

Of course you should have remembered that sooner - your father had an entire encyclopedia of poisonous plants that you found far more fascinating than all the rest. You’d always had an interest in plantlife, even before you could read, so as you grew your father showed you the corner of the library dedicated to such a subject, allowing you to marvel over the pictures while tripping over the Latin names scrawled upon the pages. That book of poisonous plants was one of your favorites, perhaps because of all the beautiful colors that masked the dangers lying just within - but you were too young to read into the deeper meaning of that.

Edward continued the trek forward, tugging at your hand so that you would follow. When you reached the rotted, termite infested doors, he gave a firm push, but they wouldn’t budge. With a determined furrow of his brow, Edward looked around for another way in, but even the shattered windows were too high for you to safely climb. So, he tried forcing the door again; it was once you began to help that it finally began to scrape along the stone floor, the sound grating to your ears as the two of you huffed with each insistent push.

Finally, there was enough space for the two of you to slink inside, and you shared a daunted look with one another now that the path was clear.

“You go first.” You whispered, and Edward’s eyes widened a little, affronted at your instruction.

“Me?”

“Eddie, please.” You requested, swallowing nervously. You looked around, as if fearful that you’d be caught now that you’d gotten this far into your journey.

Edward sucked in his lips and looked at the gap in the door, into the imposing darkness, debating if it was too late to turn back now. He slowly returned his gaze to you, as if afraid that if he turned his back on the dark, it may swallow him whole.

“Hold my hand.” He requested, and you obliged without question or hesitation. You both pressed your backs to the door, shuffling in one right behind the other, feet carefully gliding as you went together into the foreboding chapel.

Despite the fearful drumming of your heart, you were put at ease by sunlight streaming in through the deteriorated roof and ruined windows. You exhaled deeply, sharing another look with Edward as you unclasped your clammy hands.

“Nothing to be afraid of.” He said with ease, as if to calm the both of you down. The corner of your mouth pulled up in a weak grin before you finally looked around the small chapel around you.

The floor was littered with dust and debris, scattered with feathers and leaves. The pews were in tattered pieces, the podium left abandoned on its side; one iron candelabrum still stood tall, melted wax molded upon its holders, but its brethren had fallen much like everything else. You gasped a little at the sight of bones near your feet, but held in the desire to shout with disgust. But then your eyes caught a dried, coppery trail from the bones to the door just behind you, and your heart rate spiked with puzzled fear.

Edward slowly walked past the shredded, crumbling pews, taking careful steps as he approached what was once the altar; where candles should have rested, instead there were more bones and abandoned bits of nature. But you could tell, even while watching his back, that something peculiar caught his eye, and you bit your lip with hesitation.

“Eddie…?”

He reached out towards the ground beside the altar, the sound of scrapping metal making you cringe as he picked something up. He turned around with the cumbersome material in hand, revealing to you a rusted chain weight down by a shackle. Another pang of panic drummed in your chest, finding this place no longer exciting and worth exploring, but rather ominous and frightening - you were not supposed to be here.

Letting your eyes wander, you realized that wasn’t the only chain, that another could be found just opposite of where Edward stood; he seemed to realize the same thing, looking back at you with alarmed eyes, although this place made the darkness of his eyes unnerving instead of comforting.

“I think there’s a reason your dad never brought you here…” His voice was edgy, face appearing nearly gaunt in the low lighting.

“Maybe he doesn’t know.” You countered, although it was clear that you’d only said that for your own comfort. Something told you that your father was most certainly aware of whatever happened in this chapel, although you weren’t sure how you could tell such a thing. A shiver ran up your spine, a sensation so cold that you wrapped your arms around yourself, nervously digging your fingernails into your skin, “I think we should go.”

Edward nodded even as he continued to look around, as if he couldn’t help his innate curiosity to see more, to understand what secrets lie here on Talbot property - you could see in his face that despite the potential peril, he was desperate to know more.

Behind you, the door abruptly scratched agonizingly along the floor, causing you to scream and Edward to drop the chains with a raucous clang as he shouted. In the same breath, you attempted to run towards Edward while spinning to face the sudden danger, causing yourself to trip and fall to the floor. The palms of your hands scraped across stone and dirt and bone, instantly sore as you scrambled towards the altar on all fours.

But before you could even make it a couple feet, something grabbed the back of your dress and pulled, causing you to shout again; you briefly caught a glimpse of Edward’s face in the chaos, and although there was fear alight in his eyes, it certainly wasn’t the kind of terror that you had expected.

“What in God’s name are you two doing here?” Your father’s distraught voice bellowed in your ear, ringing menacingly off the walls. He forced you to your feet with another strong yank, turning you around to face him; you assumed that his face would be red with anger, that his eyes would be full of rage, that his nostrils would flare with fury. But instead, what you saw was horror.

The chaos of the moment made your head spin, and suddenly tears were pricking at your eyes, lips quivering with shaken breath; you cried even as you tried to fight it, eyes locked with your father’s as his alarm melted into worry.

“We didn’t know--!” You attempted to explain, but your emotions made you stutter and trip over your words, making a hiccup leap from your throat.

Your father’s eyes were so caring and apprehensive as he knelt before you, large hands gently grasping yours for reassurance; but as his gaze looked past your shoulder and towards Edward, who was still frozen with fear at the altar, something changed. There was a darkness that seemed to suddenly shroud his eyes, a cruelty knitting his brows and a foreboding suspicion twisting his face. The expression was unlike anything you’d ever seen before, as if your father was seeing something that you didn’t.

Your father rose to his feet, his posture menacing as outrage overtook his face, “You brought her here!”

He released your hands, pointing an accusatory finger at Edward, whose hands were trembling, face pale with alarm. Your father’s shout caused your blubbering to grow worse, but he stepped around you as if you were forgotten, moving as if he intended on causing harm.

“Do you have any idea what kind of danger is in this place? And you brought her here!?”

You watched the confrontation with absolutely helplessness, feeling terror at the sight of your father acting so savage. Frantically, Edward looked around in search of some means of escape, knowing he didn’t stand a chance trying to run past your father and out the door. Your ears rang, vision blurry from tears, as you prayed that nothing bad would happen to him, that maybe your father would show mercy despite his animal-like aggression.

“I-- I didn’t…” Edward was at a loss for words, far too terrified to defend himself. You saw his eyes flick towards one of the shattered windows, clearly gauging if he could make the climb, if he could make the jump; your father saw this too, taking one large, threatening step in the direction of the window to flex his power over the situation.

“I always knew you were trouble, but I could never see it until now.” Your father insulted through his teeth as if he’d had some kind of revelation, his body tense with anger.

“I’m not--” Edward sounded so weak, so petrified; another hiccup interrupted your crying, a weak sound whining in your throat as if to protest your father’s actions.

“Aren’t you?” Did your father nearly sound amused by that? Why did it seem that his words were laced with a mocking malice, as if there were a smile upon his face?

Despite knowing the odds weren’t in his favor, Edward made an abrupt dash for the broken window, using the pews beneath as leverage to jump up and grab hold of the sill littered with broken stained glass. Your father moved only a second later, ever determined to grab the offensive boy and teach him a lesson.

But by some miracle, Edward managed to climb up despite crying out in pain, glass stabbing into his palms as he yanked himself up and over, the shattered remains of the window ripping his pants as he briefly straddled the sill before dropping out of your sight. Your father was just moments too late, angrily clenching his fist around the air in front of him with an enraged growl.

You stared out the window at the green leaves swaying tranquilly in the wind, as if to contradict what had just happened here; you sighed with relief that Edward managed to get away. Tears continued to stream down your face, but you felt numb, as if all the anxiety and fear had drained you of anything else.

When your father turned back around, his expression was far too calm considering the circumstances of what had just transpired; he took deep breaths through his nose, fighting to compose himself. It almost looked as if shame flashed across his eyes as he looked pitifully down at you, as if he realized that he’d behaved dreadfully, frighteningly, that he’d acting like an animal in front of you.

He approached and scooped you into his arms; despite everything, you still clung to him, resting your head on his shoulder as your crying slowly began to mellow out.

“I’m so sorry, my darling, I’m so sorry…” He repeated the apology over and over and over again as he carefully stepped out of the chapel, mindful of protecting your small body as he moved lightly on his feet. He briskly walked down the uneven cobbled steps and past the blockade of wolfsbane as he comfortingly rubbed your back, his voice attempting to sooth your tears.

Despite their dangerous, poisonous nature, you found comfort in the flowers’ purple-hued petals.

‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗

September 1916

Eddie Munson would never have predicted he’d return to Hawkins one day; a few years ago, he would have bet all the money in the world that he’d never see his hometown again. No, once his father showed up following a five year disappearance, insisting that his young son hit the road with him, little Edward barely looked back. It wasn’t for a hatred of his home, nor for any troubles with his uncle, the man who practically raised him - but it was some youthful whimsy and desire, his childlike need to see what was beyond his front door. He was only twelve when his father returned, and as such he thought there would be great adventures to be had, falling for all the promises of happiness laid at his feet.

Of course, it didn’t take long for trouble to start. It seemed that everywhere Alan and Edward Munson went, bad things followed - an arrest in one city, a get-rich-quick scheme in another, a string of debt so long that they’d never see the end of it. As a boy, Eddie hadn’t quite realized how bad it was; but as the years took their toll, he found himself longing for a way back home.

He missed the cozy little cottage shared with his uncle, the smell of the gardens just yards from their front porch, the joys once shared with the Talbot daughter who he had no right to be friends with. All that time away had nearly caused him to forget his childhood friend, his companion in an otherwise lonely world; but once he began to crave his home in Hawkins, Eddie often found himself reveling in the memories of their days spent together. 

The familiarity and comfort of home had been calling out to Eddie, it had become a beacon of hope as times with his father grew worse and worse, his tolerance for this life wearing thin. So, Eddie came up with a scheme of his own, hiding money in tricky ways because his father knew all the usual tactics, mapping out which city they blew through would make his departure the easiest and the quickest.

Really, he could have left at any time - he was a man now, he no longer had to do as he was told, no longer needed permission before making decisions for himself. But Al was a trickster of a man, so much so that he’d find a way to manipulate his boy into staying simply because Eddie was a valuable asset to him.

They were up in Michigan when Eddie finally made his move as his father slept off his drunken haze in the dingy boarding house they’d taken residence in the past month. Eddie had been writing to Wayne for some weeks now, informing the man of his plan and its progression; although Eddie feared his abandoned uncle would want nothing to do with him, the words of forgiveness in his letters were a reassurance on Eddie’s doubtful heart.

When Eddie and Al first settled in upon their arrival in Michigan, Eddie took what chances he could to call the Talbot Estate, hoping to speak with his uncle in preparation - it was shocking to him when his first call was answered by Magda, the elderly housekeeper who had worked for the family Eddie’s entire life. Again, he felt trepidation, but the woman seemed pleased to hear from him, although once she’d been informed of Eddie’s return, she worried over Sir Talbot’s reaction.

That nearly made Eddie’s heart drop into his stomach, fearful that he wouldn’t be welcomed back simply because of a foolish day from sixteen years ago. As if able to read his mind - which was always a startling trait of Magda’s - she reassured him that she’d discuss the subject with her boss, that she’d put the man’s mind at ease. Of all the staff of the estate, Sir Talbot trusted Magda with his life, and if there was anyone that could change his opinion about a matter, it would certainly be her.

And so with everything set, Eddie left for the train station without a single look back, accepting easily that he’d likely never see his father again.

Once he set foot on the depot platform in Hawkins following a near two-day trip, Eddie was struck by how little his hometown had changed - yes, Hawkins was keeping up with the times as best it could, but it was as if the air felt exactly as it did the day he left in 1903. And as he rode through town alongside a farmer willing to give him a lift, he took in that comforting familiarity of the buildings and the roads and the people who hadn’t seemed to change at all.

As a boy, he hadn’t left the Talbot Estate often - Wayne’s job was sometimes all-consuming, so if Eddie did come into Hawkins proper, it was at the side of one of the maids collecting goods, and eager little Eddie was always first to volunteer his assistance. When Wayne was so busy that he couldn’t keep an eye on his boy, the maids took care of Eddie, giving him tasks to stay occupied, teaching him skills that may or may become handy in the future; if it weren’t for one maid in particular, Eddie probably would have been illiterate for half his life.

The streets of Hawkins seemed fresh with new cobbles, many shops with new coats of paint, and more people seemed to congest every direction that he looked - Eddie knew Hawkins had changed more than he thought, and yet that sense of home made it look exactly as it did thirteen years ago.

The farmer dropped Eddie off outside the tall, rod iron gates of the Talbot Estate, their size far less imposing now that he was no longer a child, although there was always something ominous about this property. It was as if there was a darkness surrounding his childhood home, one that only he could ever see, some mystery that he didn’t have all the clues to.

Eddie had to take a moment to simply stare at the estate - at the mansion sat atop a hill, at the surrounding fields losing their color with the arrival of autumn. He smiled fondly to himself despite the intimidating quality that seemed to hang in the air - this was his home and nothing made him happier than being back here.

With a sigh of anticipation, Eddie hiked his bag back up onto his shoulder and forced open one of the gates, stones crunching underfoot as he began to make the short hike up the property and towards the plot of land dedicated to staff housing. As he followed the twists and turns of the driveway, the mansion grew more imposing, Eddie’s gaze jumping from window to window, wondering if someone was watching him or if that was a silly sensation made up in his head.

The staff homes were all small cottages clustered to the northwest of the property - not a terribly far distance from the front gates, but it felt much farther on foot. Eventually, the top of the roofs came into sight, one chimney lazily blowing smoke; Eddie’s steps grew faster, stride longer, as he all but rushed towards the family front steps of his childhood home.

With it being mid-morning,Wayne was nowhere to be found - considering just how much of the property he maintained, mostly on his own, Eddie could guess at least half a dozen places that his uncle may be right now.

So, he deposited his feeble belongings atop the cot that was waiting for him, and approached the Talbot mansion, suddenly feeling a nervous tightening in his chest as he went - would Sir Talbot still frown upon him as if he were trouble just waiting to happen? Would his daughter shun Eddie due to too many years apart? He had to steady himself as he grew closer, taking deep breaths and reminding himself not to overthink as he rang the doorbell - Magda had assured him things would be fun, and that woman never went back on her words.

The butler who answered was a new face to Eddie, which meant he had to explain himself and his presence - he had hoped that perhaps Murray would still be on staff, as it would have been comforting for familiar faces to be greeting him instead. He was half-tempted to ask for Magda purely to help himself relax, but he thought it best to first reacquaint himself with Sir Talbot, considering that he’d be living on the man’s property once again should all go well.

So, introductions aside, the new butler allowed Eddie entry, instructing him to wait in the front hall before disappearing in the direction of Sir Talbot’s office. The mansion hadn’t changed one bit, the art on the walls the same pieces Eddie had seen dozens of times before, the carpet beneath his feet the exact one that he accidentally tracked mud on when he was first learning how to garden. And yet, the familiarity did not stop the drumming of his heart, the anxious little twitch of his hands - ever since that frightening summer day so many years ago, Eddie had never quite looked upon Sir Lawrence Talbot the same way.

Eddie was eventually escorted to the extravagant office, one of the only rooms in the home he hadn’t seen before; the butler announced his arrival, bowed his head, and briskly left the two men alone. Before Sir Talbot sat a stack of papers that he stared at harshly, but it was evident that his mind was elsewhere; nervously, Eddie assumed the man was simply collecting himself before daring to have this inevitable conversation.

When Sir Talbot finally looked over the frame of his glasses, the look in his eyes was nearly startling to Eddie - there was something unspoken in that stare, some kind of secret in the man’s eyes. Talbot’s demeanor became chilly as he studied Eddie closely, his gaze harsh and cutthroat as he looked the younger man up and down in scrutiny.

Growing nervous, Eddie nodded his head in greeting, hoping that his anxieties were written too plainly across his face, “Sir.”

Silently, Talbot looked him over again, assessing the man who he last saw as a boy. When he finally locked his eyes with Eddie’s again, they were coldly unreadable.

“Edward Munson… how you’ve changed.” Sir Talbot finally spoke, his voice still that same strong timber that it used to be. He rose to his feet, removing his glasses with a faint sigh; Eddie was almost dismayed to see that this man was still just as tall as ever, for he’d led himself to believe that Talbot only seemed tall because all those years ago he was an adolescent.

Keeping his shoulders squared and chin high, Eddie kept his eyes on the older man, who rounded his massive oak desk in a slow approach, Eddie suddenly feeling like prey. Once the two men were standing mere feet across from each other, there was a pause, a tense stillness in the air as Eddie held his breath in anticipation.

Wordlessly, Sir Talbot offered his hand - it was not a warm and welcoming gesture, but Eddie knew better than to turn it down. So, Eddie moved to shake the man’s hand, however, Talbot grabbed him by the wrist and turned his palm to face the ceiling; his grip wasn’t rough, but it was certainly insistent. With a confused look, Eddie watched Talbot’s face - the other man’s eyes studied his skin as if he knew palmistry, as if there was some hidden message in the lines of Eddie’s hand.

Talbot’s sharp eyes met Eddie’s abruptly, and the younger hoped that his face conveyed no fear or trepidation. For what felt like an eternity, they stared at one another, Eddie unable to comprehend what could possibly be going on. But a moment later, Sir Talbot nodded as if in confirmation to himself, and finally pressed his palm into Eddie’s for a firm shake.

“Welcome back.” Talbot’s words were far from warm, but he seemed a touch less guarded. Eager to please, Eddie nodded back in thanks as Talbot took back his hand.

“It is good to be back, sir.” Eddie confirmed with a nod, trying to ignore the trepidation he still felt strong as ever. Again, there was something in the man’s gaze that kept Eddie on edge, something that was simply unnerving, “I informed Magda that I’d be returning, although I couldn’t give her a day.”

Talbot nodded while his eyes moved about his office, as if he didn’t want to be looking at Eddie for longer than he had to; there was tension in his shoulders, “I’d heard your return was inevitable.”

Was Talbot always so short with his words? Eddie couldn’t quite remember. Trying to bolster his confidence, Eddie nodded again and took a deep breath, “I’ve come to you first in hopes of offering my services around the estate - I have no intention of living on your land for free, I am no longer a child.”

“No, you certainly aren’t.” Talbot answered in a slow, biting tone that Eddie couldn’t identify. The elder was gazing out the large window, eyes blindly staring out as if in contemplation, hopefully considering Eddie’s offer. When he looked back at the young man, Talbot had a curious expression across his features, “What skills have you acquired while away?”

Eddie swallowed; although he’d been rehearsing this for half the train ride home, it was still so different to be confronted with the actually conversation, to be confronted with the ever imposing man of the house, “I’m knowledgeable in mechanical and electrical devices; I can do any and all hard labor as need be; I’m well acquainted with motor vehicles, both as a driver and as a repairman.”

That last point seemed to catch Talbot’s interest, and so Eddie paused to allow the man to speak, “Motor vehicles? Well, that is a valuable skill.”

Eddie nodded - as motorcars began to grow in popularity these past few years, he’d been more than aware of what opportunities that may offer. Everyone wanted a car, wanted the fun and the luxury of a motor vehicle over a horse and carriage, and so Eddie had decided a couple years back that he would become an expert as best he could, would gain as much knowledge on this new technology as possible.

Talbot continued, “I will not promise you a job, Mr. Munson, however, my own motor car has been troublesome as of late - should you be able to resolve the problem, you have a job here at Talbot Estate.”

Eddie’s expression brightened, although he didn’t want to look too eager - he didn’t want to get his hopes up now that he was offered this challenge. But he gave a quick nod, already thrilling at the prospect of a potential job here at home.

“I’m more than happy to take a look; I can start right now, if you’d like.”

Sir Talbot’s face was once more curious, intrigued to see what Eddie could do, intrigued to see what kind of man he’d become. Talbot’s eyes narrowed slightly in consideration, before he, too, nodded shortly.

“Very well - have Douglas show you to the garage.” Talbot returned to his chair, although he did not yet take a seat, as if he refused to relax until Eddie was out of the room.

“Thank you, sir.” Eddie dipped his head a little, prepared to take his leave.

“And Munson?”

That serious, intimidating tone made Eddie’s heart skip, “Yes, sir?”

Talbot leveled him with a grave look, eyes fierce as they pierced straight into Eddie’s soul, one last domineering show before they parted ways, “Do behave yourself around my daughter. You hear me?”

Nervously, Eddie nodded, swallowing slightly as a cocktail of apprehension and excitement whirled around in his chest at the mention of the Talbot girl, his long lost friend. How much had she changed? How much had she stayed the same? Eddie was oh-so anxious to know, but now was not the time to get roused about it, “Yes, sir.”

Talbot stared for another long, tense moment before giving a small nod of his own, finally lowering back into his stiff leather chair, eyes returning to the paperwork scattered out in front of him as if it took precedence over the man before him, “You may go.”

‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗

Early afternoon and the sun was high, warm in that cozy way that only seemed to happen in late-September once the season changed. It wasn’t the kind of sweltering warmth felt in the summer months, nor was it laced with the hint of approaching winter winds - it was a stillness, as if everything in the world had come to a pause to enjoy the orange sunlight while it would last.

Eddie had been fussing with Talbot’s motor car for over an hour now, tuning up every little thing just to make sure it was in pristine condition - he had to impress the man, after all, and didn’t want to leave a single stone unturned in his work. The vehicle was a virtually brand-new model, as it was undeniably different from those that Eddie had worked on before. Initially, that made him nervous, made him fearful that he wouldn’t have the right tools or knowledge to make any improvements. But once he began poking around at the motor, it was like an intuitive instinct made this new car make sense, and he became lost in his work.

Between the heat and the effort, Eddie’s body was already sticky with sweat; he’d stripped his coat and his vest and his tie, rolled up the sleeves of his white linen shirt, but it was only temporary relief. His hands were covered in grime, and more than once he swiped at his hair or rubbed sweat from his brow only to curse, knowing that trailing his fingers there would be streaks of oil left behind.

As Eddie grumbled to himself, focusing intently as he knelt beside the engine, the sounds of another car driving up the gravel met his ears, and as it drew closer cheerful voices accompanied it. Perhaps the help returning from town, or a visitor joining Talbot for luncheon; regardless, Eddie kept his head down, nearly done with the task he was doing.

The vehicle came to a grinding stop, although the engine continued running, a blend of voices eagerly overlapping one another, laughter harmonizing in a joyous, youthful way that made Eddie furrow his brow. Reaching a good stopping point, he set down his tool and stood, looking out from the open garage door to assess the visitors to the estate; he reached for a rag, already filthy, and attempted to clean his hands in vain.

The driver was a young man accompanied by three women, all of whom appeared near Eddie in age; a realization struck him in that moment, his heart beating faster as his eyes began to dart from face to face, searching for those ever familiar eyes, that ever comforting smile. The group in the car was chaotic, high energy as they made one another laugh, throwing their arms around with hyperactivity as they continued whatever stories and jokes they’d been telling on the drive up. For a moment, the disarray was distracting, but of course, it should have been obvious which of the three women was the one he was searching for--

The woman in the lilac sundress; purple has always been your favorite color, after all.

Eddie took a sharp breath once he finally had the chance to study you; thirteen years felt like it was melting away in an instant as he took in how you’d changed, how you’d stayed the same.

Your hair was still that same lovely color, especially out here in the sunlight. Your smile was still dazzling, bright enough to light up an entire room, especially now that you’d grown into it. Your body language was still as light and carefree as ever, having not lost any of the joyousness of your youth. Although you were one of three women in the vehicle, you radiated in a way that made you the only person Eddie could see;hHe felt his jaw growing slack as he stared, unable to fight the nervous skipping of his heart, the anxious tingling in his limbs.

You were beautiful, and it very nearly took him aback. It was different from the beauty you had in your youth - when Eddie left, you were only ten and he would’ve deemed you as ‘cute.’ For all of your childhood, he’d heard many people exclaim “she’ll be such a vision one day” or “what a gorgeous lady she’ll become,” but at the time he could not have made such bold predictions.

But now you were a woman, a stunning woman who certainly had no right being so damn lovely to look at. Now, Eddie understood what all those people were talking about when you two were just children, because the proof was right here before him in staggering beauty.

Eddie hadn’t realized he was staring until one of your friends finally noticed him within the shade of the garage, drawing the entire group’s attention. And when you set your sparkling eyes on him, he froze, his tongue heavy with nerves and limbs unable to move. You arched a lovely, curious eyebrow, clearly unfamiliar with this man standing in your family’s garage.

As you stood to climb over your friends and out of the vehicle, you curiously eyed this mystery man, wondering if your father had hired more staff or perhaps called for a specialist to deal with his damn car. The man was covered in grease from head to toe, his shoes scuffed and his curly hair becoming unruly from sweat; the buttons of his shirt were undone halfway done his chest, which was heaving from the labor he’d inevitably been hard at doing. Despite the oddness of his attentive staring, you couldn’t help but think that he was certainly an attractive man, whoever the hell he was.

His expression seemed dumbfounded as he stared at you, as if you were some specter that he couldn’t quite make sense of. But there was something about that look that reminded you of someone, that seemed familiar although you couldn’t place why.

Your name being spoken drew your attention, your friends saying their farewells and reminding you about dinner plans you had for tomorrow night; you smiled largely, confirming you wouldn’t forget, as you closed the car door behind you. Billy ripped out of the driveway, just like he always did, far too fond of fast driving and reckless behavior; the speed of the car driving off blew your hair back, the hat securely tied around your neck fluttering in the breeze. Your friends turned in their seats just so they could keep waving goodbye, giggling together as you histrionically waved back for their entertainment.

Once the trio was out of sight - although a dirt cloud was left in their wake - you turned back around, spying the mechanic out of the corner of your eye, seeing the way he sheepishly tried to pretend he hadn’t been staring at you this entire time. It made you smirk just a little, amused by whoever he was, growing yet again curious as to who he could possibly remind you of. Instead of walking to the house, you took leisurely steps towards the open garage, noticing the way the man fumbled with the tool he’d just picked up, which nearly made you giggle.

“Are you here to take that dreaded vehicle off father’s hands?” You questioned with something of a playful tone, clasping your gloved hands behind your back as you continued the stroll up the drive. Amusement flashed across the man’s face as he stared down, aimlessly cleaning the tool with a rag that was filthy; his energy was cautious, and something about that made you want to bring his guard down.

“I couldn’t afford it, miss.” His tone seemed careful as his eyes turned up, mindfully watching your approach. Your lip quirked with curiosity.

“Shame; all week I’ve had to listen to him complain about how burdensome it is.” You came to a pause in the large doorway, studying the man more closely now that you had a better view of him, now that he wasn’t so obscured by shadows.

There was a softness to his features, from the gentle shape of his lips to the curls brushing across his forehead to even the cleanly kept mustache and beard adorning his jaw. His whole aura seemed to radiate with kind easiness, his expressive brows raised with an innocent wonder, as if he was awaiting something in particular.

But those eyes of his, so dark and doe-like, seemed to have an eternal sadness about them, a sadness buried so deep within the bones that it would never quite go away. That struck you as shockingly familiar - those were eyes you’d seen so many times before, eyes you’d known so well once upon a time.

Now, you were the one frozen with surprise, your brow first raising then furrowing, your lips parting slightly with words that never quite came to you. It couldn’t be the boy you once ran through fields with, the boy who always had a story to tell, the boy who had no expectations of you the way the rest of the world had. He was long gone, giving you a rushed and eager farewell as his father insistently tried to drag him away. And yet…

“Eddie?” Your voice came out a soft whisper, his eyes alighting with elation immediately. You saw the exact moment all his trepidation faded away, when his shoulders relaxed and his lips spread into an incredible, gleaming smile. You laughed a little in disbelief, your own face lighting up despite the fact that you still couldn’t quite comprehend it was him; your smile was so wide and fierce across your lips that your cheeks nearly hurt.

Propriety entirely forgotten, you dashed the short distance between you and Eddie, throwing yourself against him so forcefully and quickly enough that he coughed with surprise, your arms winding tightly around his neck as your laughter continued to ring in his ear. For a moment, he didn’t dare move, growing tense against you, as if he was afraid of touching you; but shortly thereafter, he breathed in your scent and snaked his arms around your middle, his palm pressed firmly against your back as he held you close.

“My god, I can’t believe you’re back.” You said gleefully against his ear, pulling back just enough to look at his matured face, your hands coming up to grab his cheeks as you studied him. Your gaze darted with delight over the planes of his face, taking in his familiar eyes, his new beard, the kind smile on his lips; you were practically awestruck at the sight of him, at the sight of how handsome he’d become, “I thought I’d never see you again.”

Eddie’s expression softened as his hands reached up to cup yours, slowly removing them from his sweaty cheeks as if fearful the two of you would be caught like this. He looked between your eyes warmly, the smile now a permanent fixture on his face. His tone seemed nearly apologetic as he answered, “I thought the same.”

You gently wrapped your fingers around his, refusing to let go as you dropped your joined hands between you, “What brought you back?”

Your heart drummed a funny tune in your chest as you continued to gaze upon him, enraptured by the shock of your old friend’s return. Eddie paused to consider his words before answering, dipping his head a little as if sheepish, “I was homesick.”

You smiled at the simple answer, squeezing his hands in yours as a little laugh escaped you, “Oh, don’t tell me you missed this dusty old place; what does it have to offer someone who has surely had so many magnificent adventures?”

Eddie looked back at you as if you were a marvel - even after all this time, you’d held onto your sense of wonder, you continued to crave excitement as if it were the air you breathed. For a moment, it felt like no time had passed at all, as if you were still children sharing tales of the far and wide world that lived inside the depths of your minds. It tugged at Eddie’s heartstrings, a sadness creeping into his thoughts - he had spent so many years away, so many years without sharing stories and relishing in the company of one another. As you stood here with him, hand-in-hand, Eddie felt a deep longing, missing you even as you stared right at him.

“The adventures weren’t nearly as magnificent as you’d like to think.” He answered, to which you pulled a displeased face while waving a hand between you two, as if you were shooing away the words he just said like insects.

“Don’t tell me that. Are you not the same boy who always had a story to tell, whether fact or fiction?” You smiled at him fondly, which prompted him to mirror the expression, unable to resist your charm even now; Eddie figured he’d never quite be able to resist you no matter how hard he tried.

He shook his head with a small laugh, looking down at his feet; he noticed in that moment that he’d gotten oil on your pretty dress, but knowing you, you probably didn’t give a damn, “Don’t worry, I will always entertain you with stories, all you need to do is ask.”

You sighed pleasantly, pulling Eddie back into a quick hug simply because you couldn’t contain the joy you felt, “Is that a promise, Edward Munson?”

“Of course it is, Ms. Talbot.”

Your heart skipped a beat, a pleasant shiver running up your spine; those pesky feelings that had only started to blossom in your youth were already daring to come back, despite the years apart. You tried not to fall victim to folly, and yet the yearning you once had for the groundskeeper’s boy was coming back with even greater conviction, the flame fanned by the excitement of your unexpected reunion.

And it certainly didn’t help that little Eddie had grown up to be a handsome man, so easy on the eyes that you were already convinced you could stare at him for hours if he’d let you. Hell, you could probably spend days admiring that face without ever growing bored of him.

Your cheeks warmed as a yearning look passed between the two of you, and so you dropped your gaze while taking a step back, meandering around the garage as a means to calm yourself down, to hide the attraction you were oh-so clearly feeling towards him, “Tell me about your travels - tell me about all the places you’ve been.”

As you walked with grace and ease, your moves were almost hypnotic; Eddie cringed at the perfect greasy handprint he’d left on the small of your back, at the swipe of grime that was transferred from his cheek to yours - how he hoped that your father wouldn’t see you like this, or else Eddie would be fresh out of luck in gaining a job here at the estate.

You perched upon a large wooden work bench, fussing with your skirts as they twisted around your feet; you both spotted another spill of oil on the lilac fabric, but you simply made an unconcerned face at it before dropping the folds of fabric from your hands. You directed your attention back to Eddie, raising your brows expectantly as an easy smile graced your lips.

Eddie licked his lips with a grin, shaking his head pleasantly while attempting to focus on all the work still to be done on the car, “I’ve been many places, though none appropriate for a woman like you.”

You scoffed with an amused eye roll, “And when have I ever been held back by what is and is not appropriate for me?”

Eddie faintly laughed, “You never have and you never will.”

You leaned forward while resting your hands atop your knees, a wicked look on your face, “And don’t you ever forget it.”

Sharing a familiar laugh, Eddie began to regale you with tales of getting arrested in New York City and Boston, of stirring up trouble in Virginia and Tennessee. His ability for storytelling had only sharpened after so many years, and you found yourself mesmerized by his way with words, the way his body language always complimented the stories he told.

He spoke of robberies and bar fights, of friends made and friends lost along the way; you were not inclined to believe all the words that left his mouth, but the two of you had always preferred the thrills of a good story to the facts of a boring life. It was like a silent agreement between you two to make a tale interesting, even if that required embellishment.

It was so easy to be with Eddie again, so easy to sit and listen to him talk, to laugh alongside him and share wicked smiles. How could thirteen years have come and gone when this moment felt timeless, as if you were once more four or six or eight years old, hanging onto every single word that left Eddie’s mouth?

He was striking to you, utterly remarkable, the way his stories came to him with such ease even as he fussed with car parts that just wouldn’t work. The way he’d look to you just to see your reaction following a particularly harrowing plot twist made you squirm; the way his grin would spread from ear-to-ear at the sound of your laughter made your cheeks flush with warmth.

Your innocent childhood together was felt heavily as you listened to Eddie’s tales - memories of climbing trees and splashing in puddles ever so vibrant behind your mind’s eyes. There was an anxious thrill in your chest that made this different, however, a swirling sensation in your stomach reminding you that things had changed even as they stayed the same. Each smile Eddie shot you was nearly breathtaking, each cheeky wink like a piercing arrow in your heart. You knew better than to let yourself become excited by him like this, and yet it couldn’t be helped, the fire had started burning the moment you laid eyes upon each other.

Even as you listened and laughed attentively, you tried to tell yourself that this was simply your childhood crush briefly reigniting, that the excitement would die down soon enough and you would simply see each other as friends from the distant past. You knew how your love of stories could tint the way you viewed the world, how the romance novels stacked around your room had always given you a longing for a love like fiction. You couldn’t allow those desires to trick you now, but you couldn’t resist, your entire being reacting to something so simple as Eddie smiling at you with all the softness in the world.

Time had gotten away from you as you sat there enchanted by his stories, and once he’d finally completed his work on that damned motor car, you were surprised by just how much the sun’s position had changed in the sky. You and Eddie shared a look of disbelief as he tidied the tools and put everything back in its place, the both of you clearly having been trapped within a bubble where time didn’t exist. You hopped up eagerly from your seat, exiting the garage alongside Eddie as he looked up at the manor with hesitation.

You grabbed his hand again, to which he met your eyes attentively; You grinned from ear-to-ear, just like you did as a child when you decided the day was still young and there was so much more to be explored, “Walk with me? I’ll show you all the changes your uncle has made to the gardens, they’re magnificent.”

Eddie smiled sadly, which caused you to falter slightly; had you misread something about the past couple of hours? Despite every fiber of his being wanting to cave to your each and every whim, he knew better. He gave a small shake of his head while glancing at your home once more, “I must speak with your father - I can only stay should my work on the car be sufficient. And he’s asked me to… behave myself around you.”

You frowned, your lips forming a beautiful pout as your brows turned down. You were reminded that you were adults now, that neither of you had the freedoms of children. You knew you had to let Eddie go, but how you wished you could simply drag him away to hide in the hedge maze or the woods until all responsibilities and expectations faded away.

Righting your expression, you sighed and nodded with acceptance, locking your eyes firmly with his, “Tonight then. After supper, meet me in the gardens.”

It was a plea, even as you spoke as if it were a command. Eddie inhaled sharply, excited by the suggestion but also terrified that the two of you might be found out - your childhood innocence was gone, and it could cause trouble for you to be found together like that. But that look in your eyes, so fiercely determined, made it impossible for him to deny you; Eddie already knew that, even now, he could never deny you.

“Tonight.” He whispered with a nod, causing you to smile wide. Eagerly, you placed a kiss on the palm of your hand, then pressed it longingly to Eddie’s cheek, causing his eyes to nearly flutter shut; he leaned into the touch with such reverie that it made your heart swell.

“Now go, distract my father so he won’t see me like this.” You instructed with reference to your dress that he had dirtied. Eddie laughed smally with one more nod, stepping away from you as if it were burdensome to do so; he began to round the manor back towards the front doors, pausing once to shoot you a playful look before disappearing beyond a corner.

You waited another few moments before scurrying off towards the kitchen entrance, hoping that Magda could somehow get these grease stains out of your favorite dress.

.

.

[PART TWO] | [MASTERLIST]

addt. A.N | The taglist is open for anyone interested in being notified about updates! I can't wait to hear what everyone thinks of this first chapter ♥

taglist | @ali-r3n @chaoticgood-munson @chaptersleftunwritten @daisy-munson @duncanhillscoffeecups

@eddiernunson @ilovetaquitosmmmm @jasminelafleur @lavendermunson @littlexdeaths

@marlena-marlena @mmmunson @skrzydlak @tenthmoon

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

boo! surprise bitches! i'm doing kinktober this year! finally doing it! bet you didn't see that one coming, did you hehe 🕸

there is a good mix of both short and long stories coming your way throughout this (and i will also still occasionally post other fics this month that aren't related to this). also, a handful of these fics are darker in nature, thought it was fitting for halloween, so remember to read the warnings, if there's something that's not for you then please, as always, be kind to yourself and don't read the story.

masterlist | join my taglist

day one | sore

stepbro!sirius black x cheerleader!reader + dubcon massage

day two | don't smile

steve rogers + throat fucking + size kink

day three | stuffed

devil!eddie munson & angel!steve harrington + tentecles + double penetration in one hole

day four | a little fashion show

best friend!stiles stilinski + lingerie

day five | stay still

peter parker + bondage

day six | hold up, let me record this

jj maybank + tittyfucking + sextape

day seven | the palace guards

guards!poly!marauders x princess!reader + secrets relationship

day eight | it’s practically like we’re down there with them

mob boss!bucky barnes + exhibitionism

day nine | keep that pretty mouth shut

tommy shelby + keep quiet quickie

day ten | I couldn’t find it in me to wake you

poe dameron + somno thigh fucking

day eleven | I just want you a little longer all to myself

matt murdock + secret office sex

day twelve | nothing more than a toy

rafe cameron + using you like a toy to masturbate with

day thirteen | I still got a few rounds left in me

boxer!steve rogers + bathtub sex

day fourteen | open your fucking mouth

dark!wild west cowboy!joel miller + gun kink

day fifteen | tiny

miguel o'hara x fairy!reader + extreme size difference

day sixteen | the wall between us

cult member!steve harrington + fem glory hole + breeding

day seventeen | be a rebel, be bad, stay here and cuddle with me

spencer reid + aftercare

day eighteen | pleasant pile of pillows

brother's best friend!james potter + pillow humping

day nineteen | ring ring

sam winchester x reader x bf!dean winchester + phone sex + cheating

day twenty | window

perv!neighbour!billy russo + voyeurism

day twenty-one | say yes

fiancé!bruce wayne + possessiveness

day twenty-two | i can think of something better than that

bucky barnes + anal

day twenty-three | double check

dark!professor!ben solo + power imbalance + manipulation

day twenty-four | maroon

vampire!remus lupin + biting + blood kink

day twenty-five | i want you

pirate captain!miguel o'hara + sex as payment

day twenty-six | teamwork

pro football team!avengers (bf!steve rogers, bucky barnes, pietro maximoff, clint barton, sam wilson, tony stark, thor odinson) + gangbang

day twenty-seven | my little flower

din djarin + fantasy au + cockwarming

day twenty-eight | hysteria

doctor!aleksander morozova x hysteria patient!reader + historical au + fuck machine

day twenty-nine | can't fight the moonlight

werewolf!bucky barnes x gf!reader + predator/prey + monsterfucking

day thirty | magical mimic

eddie munson x witch!reader + magical mutual masturbation

day thirty-one | you can’t put it in

stepbro!peter parker + halloween pussyjob

© 2023 thyme-in-a-bubble