Possession Of The Heart - Chapter 8

Possession of the Heart - Chapter 8

Rating: 18+ minors gtfo Chapter Summary: Steve finds his ticket to freedom and gets help from some good Samaritans CW: Mpreg, medical checkup, mention of Tommy's infertility and his plan for Steve being assaulted (again, Steve is ok! Nothing happens!) Pairing: Alpha!Tommy x Omega!Steve - Alpha!Eddie x Omega!Steve Word Count: 2.8k

Chapter 7<<Masterlist>>Chapter 9

Tommy comes home around lunch time and Steve’s plan is set into motion. He packed what he knows he’ll need into two suitcases, and tucked all of Eddie’s letters into his needlepoint bag underneath his supplies. He’s not exactly sure how he’ll be able to get out of the estate, but he needs to be ready at a moment’s notice.

The medical report and marriage contract are folded and held close in his pocket. When he hears Tommy come in, he puts on his best performance and staggers down the stairs holding his belly.

“Tommy?” His voice warbles and he pats himself on the back for sounding so genuinely distressed. “I think…I think something may be wrong.”

Tommy meets him at the bottom of the stairs with a look of concern. “Steve? Darling you look awful.”

He tries not to take offense. He knows his performance isn’t that good, but he’s also aware that he hasn’t been eating enough, and hasn’t left the estate for so much as a hair cut since fall. “I need…I need to see that doctor. The one who came here before. I don’t feel well and I’m worried about the pup.”

That’s all he needed to say. Tommy’s only real concerns are his investments, and the most important one he has is currently doing somersaults in Steve’s belly. Without any hesitation, Tommy calls back the driver and they make their way into town to see Dr. Owens. When they arrive at his office, Tommy tries to enter the exam room. Steve gives one look of warning to the doctor, and Tommy is being escorted to the waiting area.

The door closes and Dr. Owens is immediately at Steve’s side. “I wish you would have come sooner, Steve. You don’t look well.”

“That’s the least of my concern. Dr. Owens, please…I need your help and I don’t know who else to turn to.”

The doctor seats him at the exam table and pulls up a chair. “You’re safe here, Steve. Anything you tell me will remain confidential.”

“I’m actually hoping it won’t.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out the papers. “Tommy has been lying to me. To everyone. Here, this is our marriage contract. It states right there that our marriage will be dissolved if there is any proof of adultery or if either of us are infertile. Sir, it’s not just Tommy’s legs that were affected by his wounds. He can’t father children. This signed medical report proves it. I didn’t know until today that this clause was in our contract. Since he returned from the war, he’s known that our marriage can be dissolved, and he hid it from me to keep his control over me.

“What’s worse is he ordered me to find another Alpha to pup me so he can claim it as his heir and bond me to him. I couldn’t imagine doing such a thing. But then…then I met a man who showed me what actual kindness and love is. Tommy found out. He didn’t want me being happy. Didn’t want this man getting in his way. So he threatened him and forced him to leave. That’s when I found out I was pregnant. The day you came to the manor…he told me that once the pup is born, a man he hired to follow me, William Hargrove, would be rewarded for his efforts by…by having his rights to pup me against my will. It terrified me so much that I fainted.

“Doctor, please. I need to get away from them. The proof of his infertility is right there, and the proof of my adultery is here.” Steve places a hand on his belly and wipes the tears from his face with the other. “Can you help me? Please? I know I made mistakes of my own, but I cannot allow him to claim this pup as his.”

Dr. Owens sits in stunned silence for a moment and his own eyes look misty. “I’m glad you came to me. Steve, this is the most abhorrent thing I’ve ever heard, and I’m so sorry you’ve been treated this way. After you leave here, I can take these papers to the courthouse. The judge, Bob Newby, is a good friend of mine and a good man. There’s no way he’ll let this stand.”

Judge Newby. Steve remembers him from one of the parties Tommy hosted. He was so kind and Steve was sad to see that he was one of the Alphas that Tommy refused to have back. All because he made Steve laugh and gave him a moment of joy. “I met him once. He was kind.”

The doctor nods in agreement and gives Steve a reassuring smile. “He is, I promise you that. I can get this to him immediately and once the papers are signed dissolving your marriage, your ties to Tommy are broken. Do you have a means to leave?”

Steve’s shoulders sag. “No. I don’t have a way to leave the estate and no money for travels. The only thing of value I have is my wedding band. I suppose I could sell that and get money for a train ticket.”

“Steve, do you trust me?”

“Of course I do.”

Dr. Owens holds out his hand. “Then give me your ring. I’ll take it to the jeweler and get the best price I can. And as far as getting off the estate, leave that to me. I’ll get your funds for a ticket and the papers you need. Just pack what you can and be ready before dusk.”

Steve heaves a sigh of relief. “Oh my god, I can’t thank you enough.” He slides off his ring and places it in the doctor’s hand. “You’re saving my life. I don’t know how I can ever repay you.”

Owens pockets the ring and stands. “You can repay me by letting me examine you. I take it you haven’t been caring for yourself for quite some time.”

Steve readily accepts. He's dehydrated and underweight, but the baby seems to be growing just fine regardless. The doctor stresses that he needs to do his best to eat regular meals once he's off the estate and get as much rest as he can. Before he leaves, Dr. Owens gives him a wink and wishes him the best of luck. He walks Steve out the waiting room where Tommy is looking irritated.

“Well? Is the pup ok?”

“Yes, Mr. Hagan. Steve is just a bit underweight, but that can be remedied easily. He’s experienced some fatigue, and will need plenty of bed rest. But otherwise the baby seems to be doing just fine.”

Tommy huffs, like this whole thing was a hardship for him. “Good then. We’ll be on our way. Steven, come along now.”

Tommy is furious on the drive back to the estate and tells Steve several times that this was all his own doing. That refusing to eat with Tommy led him here, and he only has himself to blame. His tone would normally make Steve prickle with irritation, but he lets it roll off his back knowing that this is likely the last time he’ll have to hear it.

When they arrive back at the manor, Tommy retreats to the study and Steve goes up to his room to make sure he has everything he needs. He places his bags by the door…and waits.

The sun is just starting to set behind the trees when he hears a loud knock. His heart leaps in his chest and he springs to his feet. He slings his bag over his shoulder, opens his door, and picks up his suitcases. It’s a bit of a struggle getting them down the stairs, but he manages. He makes it to the foyer and Deputy Callahan is handing Tommy a piece of paper.

“What is this?”

“Mr. Hagan, this is your notice signed by Judge Newby that as of today your marriage to Steve Hagan is dissolved on grounds of adultery and infertility.”

Tommy’s glare is full of rage as he turns to look at Steve. His face is red and jaw clenched. “What have you done? You have no proof of this!”

“You had proof of it this whole time, Tommy. I found the papers. Your medical report, our marriage contract…you never told me about the clauses in there. You knew this whole time that you could have called this off and you didn’t. You made me a prisoner in our own home, and I refuse to let it happen any longer.”

His face has darkened even more with rage and Steve would be afraid if he didn’t know he would be leaving soon. “You had no right to go through my belongings.”

“And you had no right to keep me here! To bring me here in the first place! You don’t own me anymore, Tommy.” Steve picks up his suitcases and Deputy Callahan is quick to take them out of his hands. He makes his way out the door and Steve follows, stopping in the threshold and turning to look at Tommy one last time. “You only have yourself to blame.”

He closes the door behind him and holds his head high as he walks to the police car and the deputy helps him into the passenger seat. As they drive out of the estate and head towards town, Steve feels the weight of the world lift off his shoulders. For the first time in his life, he’s free.

They’re just outside of town when Deputy Callahan reaches into his pocket and pulls out an envelope. “The Doc and the Judge wanted to make sure I got this to you. It’s a copy of the papers they signed, and a little something to help get you where you need to go.”

Steve opens the envelope and is shocked at the amount of money he finds. It’s much more than what he expected to get for his ring. He sees a small notecard between the bills and pulls it out.

Steve,

I was able to get a good price for your ring, but it will only get you so far. Bob and I had a bit of money to spare and thought there would be no better use for it than to get you to your Alpha. Love is priceless, kid. Go find yours, grab it with both hands, and don’t let go.

We wish you the best of luck on your travels. Be safe, eat well, and enjoy your new life.

Warm regards,

Sam Owens

“So? Where am I taking you?” Deputy Callahan looks over at him with a knowing smile.

Steve wipes a tear off his cheek and smiles back. “The train station would be lovely, thank you. I need to get to Indiana.”

He spends four days traveling by train across the country.

When the conductor sees him coming, lugging two suitcases, alone, with a swollen belly, he runs to assist Steve and makes sure he has a compartment to himself so he can stretch out as much as he needs.

His appetite finally returns and he makes sure to eat every bite of the meals offered. Sleep comes more easily too, without the fear of Tommy and Billy hanging over him. The seats aren’t exactly ideal for a pregnant person to sleep on, but he makes do and is just grateful to not be at the manor.

Steve whiles away the hours reading and rereading every letter Eddie wrote him. He was adrift for a while after Billy escorted him off the estate at gunpoint. He finally tracked down his uncle and worked his way out to Indiana. His uncle owns a wheat farm in a small town with a large farmhouse. There’s a stream nearby, and following it south is a cabin Eddie has taken residence in.

He’s been working for Uncle Wayne on the farm and has taken on the care of a whole flock of chickens. He insists Steve will love them even more than the pheasants.

Most of his letters are about how much he loves Steve. How he misses him and wants more than anything to see him again. How he hopes Steve is safe.

As the train pulls into the station in Indianapolis, his heart races at the thought of being so much closer to Eddie. Once he’s off the train and has his suitcases, he realizes he needs to find his way to the town Eddie lives in. He approaches the ticket booth and asks if they know the best way to get there.

There’s a tap on his shoulder and he turns to see a young man who must be around his age with a younger boy no older than fourteen. “I didn’t mean to overhear, but did you say you were looking for a way to Hawkins?”

“Yes, I did. Do you know the area?”

He gives Steve a small smile and looks to the boy. “That’s where we’re headed, actually. We’d be happy to take you.”

Steve is so grateful for small miracles. “That would be wonderful, thank you so much! I’m Steve.”

He holds out his hand and the young man shakes it. “I’m Jonathan. This is my brother, Will. May we take your bags?”

“Oh, it’s no trouble. I’m sure I can manage.”

“I insist! Our mother is a midwife and she would have our heads if we let someone in your condition carry luggage.”

Steve laughs genuinely for the first time since he was with Eddie. “We can’t have that! Thank you Jonathan, I can’t tell you how much I appreciate your help.”

Jonathan and Will help him into their car and load his luggage into the back. He learns that Jonathan is also an Omega, and he was at the station seeing his Alpha off for a semester of school in Chicago. Nancy is studying to be a journalist and Jonathan just beams talking about her. He works with his mother assisting in births, and does odd jobs around town, but is fascinated by photography and is learning about how it all works.

Steve himself is fascinated by this other male Omega who is living his life so...normally. It's such an unfamiliar concept for him, and his heart aches at the thought of the possibilities he could have had if he weren't born into such wealthy circles.

Will is a quiet and sweet boy. He loves drawing and spends a lot of his free time either working on sketches or causing mischief with his friends. There’s a whole gaggle of them from what Steve gathers.

He doesn’t want to tell the boys too much of the life he escaped, so he keeps his story vague. He tells them that he’s been separated from his Alpha due to circumstances out of his control, and is finally finding his way back to him. With Hawkins being a small town, it should be no surprise that Jonathan knows where the Munson farm is. He buys their eggs from Wayne weekly.

When they eventually arrive at the farm, the boys carry Steve’s luggage to the front porch and wish him well. He’s sure he’ll be seeing them again soon enough. They drive off and Steve takes a deep breath before knocking on the door. His heart sinks when there’s no answer. He knocks again and waits. When no one comes to greet him, he thinks back to Eddie’s letters and the cabin he mentioned.

Steve picks up his suitcases and quickly finds the stream nearby. He follows it south, moving slowly with all the extra weight he’s carrying, until he happens upon a quaint log cabin that’s just as Eddie described. On the porch he sees pots of sprouts, and small wood signs with Eddie’s handwriting. Lavender. Rosemary. Sage.

He sets down his bags and knocks. Again, there’s no answer. But when he tries to open the door, he finds it unlocked. As soon as it swings open, he’s hit with the fragrance of cedar and suede. His heart races and the pup begins to kick wildly. Steve looks down smiling and runs a hand over his belly. “That’s right, little one. That’s your father.”

Steve brings his bags inside and sets them down. The cabin is set up much like the cottage on the estate. There’s a small kitchen and dining area, a living space with a fireplace, and as he walks further through, he finds a washroom and bedroom. The scent of Eddie is stronger there and it draws Steve in like a moth to a flame. Above the bed, he sees his lilac embroidery.

Weary from days of travel and months of misery, Steve climbs into the bed and pulls the covers up to his chin. The cabin is chilly without the fireplace lit, but he quickly finds warmth under the blankets. Surrounded in the scent of his Alpha, and feeling more safe than he has in a long time, he drifts into a peaceful sleep.

Chapter 7<<Masterlist>>Chapter 9

*********************************************

Get your ass home, Eddie!

Psst...next chapter is gonna be an Eddie POV!

Taglist is open!

@mrsjellymunson @the-unforgivenn @watermelonmite @hiscrimsonangel @micheledawn1975 @stedestielfrattficlover @disrespectedgoatman @orie-jai @themoonagainstmers @moltenchocolatelavacake

Mistake P2

TW: Angst, internalised homophobia, homophobia

Steve is scared. For two days. He's felt fear like this before. When Tommy had given him a funny look for looking at a skirt too long, or for not wanting to use fag, or for when Steve leant on him too long.

or around his dad.

He hated the way his belly churned, how his brain wouldn't stop coming up with different scenarios. The upside down was less scary than this. Robin called round once, but he didn't want her to see him, bleeding noes and hiding in fear.

He didn't want her to know.

It would ruin everything, their friendship.

He'd probably ruined it already, by being so stupid, by not thinking before he acted. Maybe if he had thought about it more, he would have seen that kissing Eddie Munson was not the best idea.

Steve curled tighter in his bed.

He thought….

He'd just thought. They were so close. Eddie liked to cuddle, Eddie touched him, so much more than Tommy ever did. Eddie was accepting of the weird and the wonderful.

Of Robin.

Steve sobbed. But not him. Not the kiss. Not them.

He cried.

Cried and cried until he had nothing left, until his face felt dry and his throat hoarse.

Then he got up. He got up and he washed his face, he put the peas from the freezer on his nose and he locked away his heart. It was fine. He would be fine.

Like he always was.

Robin hunted him down the day after, a million and one questions about his nose, but he just told her he walked into the door. Steve didn't want his stupid impulsive action to ruin what they all had, after all Dustin's birthday was tomorrow and he had to be fine.

He was fine.

He and Eddie looked at each other over the crowd at Dustin's, eyes catching one another. Steve feels his heart rate go up, but Dustin is pulling him away, dragging him over to something and he can breathe again.

He could breathe.

As long as he avoided Eddie. He could do that.

It was almost impossible in the small house, but Steve was good at mingling, good at talking to people and as long as he was talking to…

"Hey kid, was lookin' for ya. Got that repair kit you were looking for,"

Wayne. Fuck. Wayne.

Steve's shaking. He doesn't realise it till Wayne's looking at him funny. He liked Wayne, kind man, always talking to him about fixing stuff up, baseball.

He'd thought…

Steve doesn't know what he thought. He'd told Wayne, in the quiet of the night after a game they'd watched.

How he'd always felt a bit different, how he never felt like he fit in any one box and Wayne had said he'd understood. That sometimes love took different forms. That he was glad that he and Eddie had grown close, hasn't seen Eddie look at anyone the way he looks at Steve.

That Steve wasn't alone.

Because someone different had once meant something to Wayne, meant the world to Wayne even though it didn't mean nothing to society.

"Y-yeah. Ill come get it some time Wayne, thanks,"

"Nothing to it kid, you okay? Ya nose is kinda blue,"

Steve twitches, "Nah, it's fine, just walked into a door,"

"Steve,"

Steve whips around so fast he sends the tray of sandwhiches behind him flying. His back is pressed against the wall, body in flight before h can even think about it.

The room is silent.

All he can see are Eddie's eyes. Those big eyes staring back at him. Fear mirrored inside them.

Fear. Why would there be fear, Eddie's not the one who got punched in the face. Steve feels a sudden surge of anger churn his belly.

He needs to leave. Needs to get out of there.

"I have to- I have to go, Dustin sorry," he mumbles as he stumbles out of the house.

Away from the questions.

Away from Eddie.

"Steve wait!"

Steve doesn't.

"Steve please,"

"It's fine. I'm fine. Just let me go. I need to go. I can't. I can't do this right now Eddie. I'm sorry. I'll just.. i'll leave. thanks for not saying anything I guess,"

"Steve no. I- no. I'm saying sorry. I shouldn't have hit you. Even if you're queer."

Steve doesn't know how many times he'll flinch that day. He stares at Eddie who now that he's actually looking at him, looks a mess.

"Even if? Are you fucking serious?"

"No I meant-

"What the fuck?"

They both turn to see Dustin, who's staring at them with huge eyes. Steve's fear returns, a cold icicle in his belly. Fuck. Dustin. Fuck.

But Dustin isn't looking at him. He's looking at Eddie.

"You hit Steve?" Dustin repeats.

"No- "It's not-

"That's what you said. That's what you just said. You hit Steve for being queer,"

Eddie's mouth flaps helplessly.

"Get out. Get the fuck out of my party,"

"Dusty, no, it's fine. It's not like that," Steve tries, doesn't want this to draw a rift any further.

"How else is it Steve? What the fuck else would he mean?" Dustin says, Steve's never heard him so cold. "That's not fucking cool Eddie. I thought you were cool. But you're just another bully,"

Eddie runs.

And Steve watches.

and Wayne curses.

Here <- Previous Part | Next Part -> Here

--- Authors Note: this will have a good ending! I'm just trying to dig into that feeling of messed up emotions from being told one thing your life and not processing it properly. Please don't hate Eddie to much, he's going through it.

448 notes View Post

samsoble

2 months ago

Steve, on Russian drugs: you know, you legally have to tell me if you’re a cop.

Robin, also on drugs: Yeah, that’s true. It’s the law.

Hopper:

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samsoble

1 month ago

Steddie Microfic

April prompt: score

Word count: 351

No warnings apply

Rated G

@steddiemicrofic

“He shoots,” Steve says, watching as Eddie prepares to aim at the basket, right hand firmly behind the ball, left hand steadying. He crouches, explodes up, and flicks his wrist.

The basketball goes in. Nothing but net.

“And he scores!” Steve yells, running and tackling Eddie in a hug. “You did it, dude!”

“Holy shit,” Eddie giggles. “I did!”

He wraps his arms around Steve’s shoulders, looking first at the basket, then at the ball, slowly rolling away. “And if I’m not mistaken, my liege,” he glances over at Steve in his periphery, smirk playing along the edges of his lips. “That means you owe me.”

Steve’s grinning too hard to sound worried. “I’m gonna regret this, aren’t I?”

“Eh,” Eddie says, “depends on how badly you don’t want to play D&D.”

Steve stops. “I- Ed, c’mon, you don’t want me to play. I’m not gonna be able to remember anything, I’m just gonna slow you down, even the simple math is gonna trip me up. I- it won’t be fun for you.”

Eddie turns with furrowed brows towards Steve. “It’ll be fun because it’ll be time spent with you, dude.” He sighs. “If you really don’t want to play, that’s one thing, but don’t put yourself down like that. Don’t call yourself dumb and uninteresting. That couldn’t be further from the truth.”

“It actually is the truth,” Steve argues. “I’ve gotten too many concussions to read, dude. And I’m just… me. Nothing special.”

“You are special enough,” Eddie argues back. “You’re kind and funny and observant and you always know what to say, whether it’s to make someone feel better or to make us laugh. You’re sharp as a fuckin’ tack and I hate that you can’t see it because it means we’ve all failed you as friends.”

Steve snorts. “Don’t give yourself all the credit. I was ruined long before any of you came around.”

Eddie kisses him. Hard. Pulls back with wide eyes and uneven breathing. “Steve-”

Steve’s breath hitches. “You mean it?”

“I do.”

Steve watches him lick his lips. “Do it again?”

Eddie blinks, grins. “Gladly.”

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samsoble

2 months ago

So, tattoo shop AUs are really popping off lately and personally I love it. What’s more romantic than bleeding for art? Nothing!

But as someone married to a tattoo artist, I have been experiencing some mild She Wouldn’t Say That regarding tattoo culture. So here’s a few quick tips that may help inform your AU. With a grain of salt for my mostly-second-hand knowledge:

NO ONE REPUTABLE SHOP WILL TATTOO A DRUNK PERSON. EVER. or even a person they suspect of any kind of inebriation. This is not just for Regret reasons, but also because alcohol is a blood thinner. If someone is on an acute dose of blood thinners, you generally do not want to stab them dozens of times per second.

Maybe this is regional, but in my experience most tattoo places don’t call themselves parlors anymore. It has a kind of seedy vibe. I see shop or studio a lot but rarely parlor.

Most tattoo artists are hot, yes, but none are as hot at my wife

Tattooing janks up your hands. Sometimes in a RSI way but definitely in a changing-gloves-every-five-minutes-fucks-up-your-skin way.

Artists themselves are rarely if ever employees of the shop. They will be independent contractors who pay the shop either a cut of their sales or rent on their station like a hair dresser. They are also (usually) responsible for taking care of their own supplies, tools, etc. except for the stencil printer. What kind of dweeb would have their own stencil printer?

There is always a line for the stencil printer. Always.

Artists generally spend orders of magnitude more time working on art, replying to emails, doing consults, etc compared to time with their needles in skin.

A typical schedule for an artist might be: wake up at noon and guzzle half her body weight in coffee, one appointment from 1-4, and another from 6-9. Home to eat one (1) real meal at 10 pm. Drawing until 5 am. This is good for her actually and good for our marriage and she’s so healthy all the time.

An ideal shop receptionist needs to be friendly, knowledgeable, and encouraging. They also need to be willing to get out the baseball bat that is kept behind the counter.

If a shop has to choose between “good people skills” and “will promptly rebuff Nazis and the obviously inebriated” the later is often a more important consideration.

At any given moment in any given shop there’s going to be at least one apprentice or someone bumming around hoping to be taken on as an apprentice. They spawn on tic and this feature cannot be disabled.

Again I can not overstate how hot my wife is

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samsoble

10 months ago

executive dysfunction is literally like. ive had a random dollar on my floor for two weeks and i dont know when ill fit it in my schedule to pick it up. people dont realize this

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