ugh i'm melting
as a kid i was so scared of my parents splitting up, what if roan learns someone in her class’ parents are divorcing and it sends her spiralling thinking she’d never see reader again?
thank you jade 💛
thank you for requesting lovely ♡ eddie and roan (almost) stepmom!reader, 2k
"Yeah, I got the expensive kind," you're saying, phone sandwiched between your ear and your shoulder, a knife held loosely in your hand. "I don't wanna make it wrong."
Roan can vaguely hear the rumble of her Uncle's voice on the other side giving reassurances.
You scrape the blade of the knife against the cutting board. "I know. I know, Wayne, I swear, just… I hardly ever make him dinner and this is our last anniversary before we get married, and– I know. Sorry, that's– I know, you don't mind, it's just–"
Roan attaches herself to your hip like an octopus, looking up at you as you look down. You smile at her, putting your knife flat to stroke her hair.
"She's right here," you say, "she's helping me… okay. Thanks, Wayne, you're the best. See you tomorrow. Alright, I will. Bye."
You put your hand behind Roan's shoulder and walk her with you to the phone. As soon as you've hung it back on the hook, you scoop her up to hold against your chest, even if she's getting longer and longer every day. "Hey, babe. Uncle Wayne says he loves you and he missed you today. He wants to make you dinner tomorrow, so we'll find your nice blue dress tonight and put it in the wash."
Roan flops her face against your neck. "I love him too."
"He knows." You press your cheek to hers briefly. "Okay, you wanna sit on the top with me and I'll finish making today's dinner?"
Roan's happy to sit on the counter and swing her legs as you finish making the pot pie. It's one of Eddie's favourites because his mom used to make it a couple of times a month, and so it's one of Roan's favourites, her lips quirked with excitement as you chop onions, carrots and celery into small pieces for the frying pan.
"I love the carrots," she says.
"Yeah?" You uncap the cooking oil to pour a generous splash into the pan. "Want me to put extra in? I don't mind."
Roan nods enthusiastically. "Yes!"
She's happy watching you cook at first, but she gets quieter as you finish up. By the time the pie is in the oven she's picking at her little nails, shards of polish in her lap like powdered sugar.
"You okay?" you ask, wiping your hands clean. She shrugs. You shrug back. "What's that mean?"
"I'm thinking."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah." Roan pokes her toes into your thigh.
"Well, daddy's home soon, but you know you can tell me."
"Mm," she hums, holding out her hand. You don't take it, folding her into your arms for a hug instead.
It would usually make her feel better, but Roan feels ten times worse as you soften your tone to a less cheerful murmur, "Got another tummy ache?"
"Not that."
"What is it?" you ask.
She hides her face in your shoulder, pert nose to your soft shirt.
"You don't have to tell me," you whisper. "Sorry. I'm not trying to pressure you, I promise, I just love you." You turn saccharine again, patting her back as you dote excitedly into the top of her head. "Love you love you love you!" You punctuate with a kiss, and Roan starts crying.
—
Eddie's startled but not too worried to get home to the sound of Roan crying. She certainly cries less and less now that she's getting older, but children cry so often that he doesn't think it's worth panicking over.
He can hear you already on the case as he peels out of his sweaty coat and boots. "That's not going to happen," you comfort, voice bouncing off of kitchen tile, the hum of the oven like a baseboard. "It's hard to believe me, but it won't. Me and daddy are super happy."
His eyebrows rise of their own accord. "Hello?" he asks, moving down the hallway and into your bright kitchen.
Roan sits in the shadow of a corner cabinet, hunched over her knees with her face held up by defeated hands, tears wetting her rosy cheeks. You stand in front of her with your hand on shoulder, bent to her eye-level, glancing sideways at him momentarily before you say, "Look, dad's home. He's gonna say the exact same thing as me, I swear. Should we ask him?"
Eddie takes the mantle by your side, quick to rub the tears from Roan's cheek with his pinky. His hands aren't clean enough for anything more. "What's wrong?" he asks.
"Nothing," Roan says, her voice strangled by a big sob.
"Babe!" Eddie laughs, half-hearted. "I can see something's super wrong. I might be a dumb boy, but I know when my girl's upset, don't I?"
"You're not a dumb boy," Roan says.
"Oh. Thank you, Ro."
"You're a dumb man."
"Very funny." He combs unruly coils of dark hair behind her ear, finger following down the curve to her shoulder. "Quick, tell me what's wrong. Just tell me. Rip it off like a bandaid."
"It's silly," Roan murmurs.
"Says who?"
"Says me."
"Oh," Eddie says, giving you a look to make sure it's alright before he monopolises her attention. You raise your hands with a small smile, as if to say, Please. "Come here, me. I'm gonna have to squeeze this out of you, huh?"
He leans back, shifting her weight against his hip, arm stretched over the breadth of her back. He's not smug, but it does bring a satisfaction to see how swiftly she calms down once he's holding her. It's a familiar picture, Eddie with his lips to her forehead, a crease between his brow just like Uncle Wayne's as he rubs her back, and Roan, a mirror image of her father, palpable relief in her hands as they tangle in his hair. Less familiar but getting there is you at their side, your cheek on Eddie's shoulder and your hand on his elbow.
"What's it gonna take to let me in on the secret?" he asks. He's making a spoiled child accidentally, always bribing and bartering for good behaviour.
"Nothing…" Her mumbling tickles his cheek as she shifts around. "I'm worry‐ing," —her voice skips over the word, like a hiccup— "about something because of Stacy."
"Oh yeah? What did Stacy do?"
"She said her mom, um, her mom said she's getting a divorce. That Stacy won't see her dad again, and it'll just be her and her mom."
Eddie doesn't judge people much. He can't imagine caring about other people's divorces when Roan was born from a fling and pretty much left on his doorstep —circumstances don't determine your kid's happiness alone. He does worry for Stacy, and his poor empathetic little girl.
"That's terrible, bubby," Eddie placates, patting her back.
"It's– well, it's– I'm…" Roan huffs.
"Whatever you tell me is fine, promise. No grounding, no telling off."
"I know, daddy, it's just hard to say."
Eddie feels himself physically melt.
He leans back against the kitchen counter and shifts her against his stomach. His arms burn with the effort of keeping her secured to him, and he's not loving her sad tone —the quicker he finds out what's wrong, the better. He peeks over her head at you for hints.
You're uncomfortable, shifting from one foot to the other like your feet hurt.
"What?" he asks you.
You clear your throat. "I think she's worried about me. If something happened between us, she's worried she won't see me again."
Eddie would like to think after two years of loving his daughter, watching her grow, and all together being a cherished and irreplaceable part of her life and her support system, that you'd find it impossible to leave her. Even if you left Eddie, you wouldn't leave Ro. He knows that. But only two years… he knows you'd love Roan even if he screws things up, but he can't promise her that things would be the same, because they wouldn't be.
That's not what she's asking, though.
"What, you think you won't see Y/N anymore?' Eddie murmurs, rubbing her back.
"She's not my full mom," Roan whispers.
Eddie reaches past Roan to squeeze your elbow. "You know, that doesn't matter, honey. And after the wedding–"
"You call me mom for a reason, right?" you cut him off.
Roan lifts her head from Eddie's. "Yeah."
"Okay, so, say me and dad get married, and then by some impossibility we realise we can't stay married, will you love me less?"
"No," Roan says with a pout.
"I wouldn't love you any less, either. I didn't know I could love someone this much 'til I met you," you say, voice scratchy like you're talking past gravel. "So things would change, but not how much I love you. I'd still see you."
You sound tentative. Eddie's way less hesitant. "Of course you'd still see each other. Babe, if me and mom break up it'll be because I did something stupid, so you'd see her every time I tried to apologise." He grins at you. "How long do you think it would take you to forgive me?"
"Depends on what you did." You smile fondly. "Probably not long, Munson."
"I have a weird feeling we're gonna last."
Roan sniffles. "I just don't want mom to move away," she says.
You and Eddie have already spoken about this. Serious but not sombre, on your backs in bed. You're not just marrying me, Eddie'd said, terrified of how much he wanted you to say certain things, and how you might not say them at all. This isn't just a promise to me. I know how much I'm asking from you, it's not a small thing. I won't blame you if you can't say yes, but this is… she's my world.
I already said yes. And I knew what I was saying yes to, you'd replied, holding your hand up above you, the two of you staring in wonder at the ring on your marriage finger. I promise, Eds. I won't let either of you down.
"Where do you think I'm going, princess? Me and dad are so happy. I'm staying right here stuck to his hip for the rest of time, but only if you're gonna stick to mine." You duck your head to touch your noses together briefly. "I'm not going anywhere."
"Promise?"
"Promise you." He swears you're twisting your engagement ring, but he can't quite see. "Can I have her?" you ask.
"Sure. My noodle arms are about to snap anyway."
"Noodle arms," you repeat, stealing Ro from him smoothly. "Yeah, right."
He flexes appreciatively at your comment.
Roan snuggles up to your neck, little face in the curve of it, her arms curling around you. You hold her tight and bend back under her weight, an arm against her thighs and another behind the small of her back, hand twisted up to brush her curls.
"Love you," you say softly. You're smiling like you've got everything you ever wanted. "Maybe if me and daddy break up I can just take you with me."
"Yeah!" Roan says with a gasp.
Eddie rolls his eyes. "Whatever, girls. Neither of you can cook, you know that? Maybe tonight you guys can practise your new life together by not eating the dinner I'm gonna cook." Time to lighten the mood, lest Roan spend a special night lethargic.
You beam at him. "I already made dinner. Happy anniversary, handsome."
You exchanged gifts and kisses already that morning before work, but Eddie's happy to accept another quick kiss over Ro's shoulder. He dots one on his daughter's cheek to keep things fair.
"Lucky us, huh?" he says to Ro.
He's not strictly talking about dinner, and it's cheesy, but you light up like a Christmas tree. "Lucky me."