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wynnyfryd · 5 months ago

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Trailer park Steve AU pt 67

part 1 | part 66 | ao3

cw: recreational drug use

Waiting around to die or get arrested or whatever fucking sucks. Partly because there’s no running water (Steve’s never wanted to take a stress shower so badly in his life) and partly because Eddie won’t let him stay sober. Has it in his head that altering Steve’s mental state will keep Vecna away, like hanging a mosquito net over the opening of a tent.

It’s not not working, he guesses.

He hasn’t fallen in to any more hallucinated open graves, at least.

He comes down the stairs a little before noon, towel-drying his hair after a bottled water sink bath, and finds Eddie in the kitchen: Reeboks on, hair a cotton candy mess, head-to-toe teddy bear tie-dye under his leather jacket — a matching shirt and sweats that he fished out of Rick’s dresser. He’s stirring Spaghettios in a small pot at the stove, and when he sees Steve come in he turns to offer some, the wooden spoon held out with a sort of desperate perkiness. “Morning! I found food that isn’t expired. You want some?”

Steve shakes his head.

Eddie shovels the whole spoonful into his mouth; wipes sauce off his chin, speaks before he’s finished chewing. “I also found blotters in the freezer and shrooms in the bedroom closet, so uh. Pick your poison.”

Steve picks the shrooms. They wait a few hours to take them because Eddie swears the sunset while you’re tripping is unparalleled, man, although Steve kind of suspects that he’s just giving him time to work up the nerve to eat them. He still gets nervous about chemicals — probably always will, after the shit the Russians did.

In the meantime, Eddie rummages through Rick’s cassette collection, and Steve talks to Robin on the walkie; gets all the new details in staticky half-sentences — something about mind flayers and mental hospitals, what else is new? He tells her to be safe; tells her that he loves her; keeps his eyes trained on the clock.

—

Shrooms smell and taste like ass. Steve can’t stomach them; spits into the grass while Eddie laughs sympathetically and hands him a little square of paper to put on his tongue instead, and they spread out side by side on a few old beach towels by the water and wait for it to kick in.

Nothing, at first, not that Steve expected different. Twenty minutes; forty-five.

“Still nothing?”

“Nothing.”

And then.

Eddie holds up a glossy aquamarine pebble, squinting at its glow in the late afternoon sun. “I should give this rock to Skye. Bet she’d love it.”

“That’s a shard of glass.”

Eddie blinks at it. “Oh, shit.”

Steve snorts, and when he looks at Eddie sideways there’s a glimmer of that same cerulean shade outlining his whole body, a low-frequency feather of energy rolling off of him in waves. Eddie moves his arm and the color chases it, a long-exposure photo of high beams on rain-slick roads.

“Oh,” Steve says, mouth slack. His voices echo in his head; all six of them. “I think I’m…”

“Yeah?” Eddie asks, eyes alight, pupils blown.

“Yeah.”

All at once something slots into place, attunes itself inside of Steve, and it’s like… he can see Eddie’s mind; touch it, cradle it, reach out to it with its own. It feels crazy. Psychedelics are fucking crazy. He reaches out a hand, slicing through ribbons of shimmering light, tasting the colors as they fade, and Eddie’s emotions spread out in high-definition before him — like the image has always been there but now it’s crystal clear; someone’s shifted his focal point, filled a kiddie pool with Epsom salt and left him there to float.

“I see you,” he says nonsensically.

Eddie frowns. “I’m sorry.”

“…That I can see you?”

“I usually am.”

That’s not right. Eddie’s thoughts shouldn’t sour on his account, shouldn’t sag in the middle like a moldy tangerine. “I can close my eyes?”

“Fuck,” Eddie laughs, thin and strained. “Don’t say shit like that when I’m not allowed to kiss you.”

“You’re not?”

He hesitates. “Am I?” Antsy fingers drum the grass, overgrown with vibrant clover and dandelion stalks. “Just feel like we should talk first, if uh, if it’s safe.”

Steve probes his own mind, tests it for outside threats, but there’s nothing. The acid forms a fractal fortress. Penrose steps, paradoxical and strange. “It’s safe.”

He moves to lie on his side, invites Eddie to do the same. “Talk into the kiss,” he suggests when Eddie joins him — face to face, chest to chest, Steve can see the thrum of Eddie’s heartbeat in the hollow of his throat; wants to press his thumb to it, so he does, the sense memory of ripe cherries bursting on his tongue.

Eddie’s lips against his own; hovering. Static electricity like the scent of summer rain. “I think my pride makes me a coward.”

Steve rubs his dry lips across Eddie’s, chapped skin and shared heat.

“It’s like… I kept trying to tell myself that I was being… I don’t know, valiant, or some shit? Like, ‘oh, he’s so much better without me. I’m the town pariah; I’m keeping him safe by running away.’” He thumps his fist against his heart as if beating a shield to shining armor, and Steve can’t see his eyebrows with their foreheads pressed together, but he can feel Eddie scrunching them into a picture-perfect hero frown. Almost has to laugh — so fucking theatrical even when he’s serious.

“But if I’m honest,” Eddie murmurs, “it wasn’t like that at all. Nothing fucking brave about vanishing on you. Like, what?” His voice shifts again, lilting but critical, a comedian doing crowd work. “I get a liiiittle fucked up by townies two too many times, and I sabotage my whole life over it? Ruin the best thing I’ve ever had over it? As if this goddamn horseshit hasn’t been happening to me since— forever! Shit.” He blows his bangs out of his face; calms himself. Goes a little cross-eyed trying to look Steve in the eye. “I got scared, Steve. There it is. That’s the ugly truth of it.”

He swallows harshly in the dense silence that follows.

Robins chirp; cars pass.

The lake laps at the shore and casts prisms like fishing line, spiderwebs of rainbow light flashing behind Steve’s eyelids. He brings his hands up to Eddie’s face.

“Christ.” Eddie shudders; lets himself become dead weight, rubbing his cheek into the touch, warm stubble scratching over the pads of Steve’s fingers. “Am I making any sense? I feel like I’m not making any sense.”

Yes. No. “You’re making sense. I mean. As much as anything is right now.” The sandy brown freckles on the bridge of Eddie’s nose are swirling like snow flurries. Steve traces them with curious hands. His knuckles blur and swivel, too. “You left because… you wanted to protect me from… yourself?” He sums up, not sure if he’s getting the math right.

“I left because I’m a scared little shit who couldn’t handle getting bullied in a parking lot, but uh. Yeah. I guess I, like, didn’t want to…” His eyes go big and startled, cheeks flooding bright pink. “Oh, shit, I was about to say I didn’t want to curse you, Jesus Christ.”

Steve honks with laughter. Loud and deep and punched out without warning, because the irony of that — that there’s a literal big bad running around cursing people, and the person who was actually doing some real good in his life decided that he was the problem — it’s fucking— hilarious! Hysterical! Steve giggles himself sick, lungs burning as it tapers to a silent wheeze, and Eddie joins him, confusion giving way to compulsion; contagion in the manic giddiness spewing out of Steve.

“You thought—” Steve struggles through hiccups, tears beading in his lash line, “you thought you were the bad luck charm in this relationship?”

“Don’t mock me!” Eddie whines, still laughing. “I already said it was dumb.”

“It’s so dumb.” Eddie may be the cutest, dumbest thing he’s ever seen. He rubs his thumbs over his cheekbones, smile fading. “If anyone’s a curse, it’s me.” Four for four here on getting dragged into supernatural shit. Does Eddie really think homophobes are more dangerous than hell dimensions?

Eddie’s already shaking his head. “You’re a fucking blessing.”

Warmth radiates through Steve, drips from the crown of his head like a downpour of holy water. He feels anointed. Ascended. He feels— “Please tell me we’re allowed to kiss now.”

Their mouths crush together, impossible to tell who moves first, whose tongue is in whose mouth, whose desperate breath Steve swallows as Eddie rolls him onto his back. Hands roam and pull and clutch, molding the shape of him into the earth. Maybe someday, Steve thinks, if aliens invade, they’ll study these imprints like crop circles, trampled declarations of how much Steve loves this boy. “God,” he gasps into the kiss. “Missed you so much.”

“So much.”

“Don’t do that to me again. Don’t go.”

“Never,” Eddie swears. His grip tightens on Steve’s waist. “Never again, baby, I fucking promise. I think I—”

On the far side of the house, leaves crunch and branches snap as a car pulls up the drive. Boots on pavement, rowdy voices; unfamiliar; red alert.

“Spread out, boys!” the voice of Jason Carver bellows. “If that Freak’s in here, we’ll find him.”

—

part 68

tag list in separate reblogs under '#trailer park steve au taglist' if you'd like to filter that content. if you want to be added please comment and let me know (must be over 21; please either verify in the comment or have your age visible on your blog)

#trailer park steve au #steddie #steddie fic #my writing #my fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #reefer rick #jason carver

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oneforthemunny · 1 year ago

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could i request some mafia!eddie pregnancy angst?

baby blues |mafia!eddie munson x pregnant!reader|

prompt: you're pregnant. eddie's scared. he does what he always does when he's scared; he runs.

contains: mafia!eddie so mafia themes, some mentions of violence and drugs, pregnant reader, unplanned pregnancy, angst angst angst, parental fears, past trauma mentions, fluff-ish at the end (you guys know I have to make it happy or I'll throw up lol)

Eddie had always heard about time standing still, frozen in fear, the Earth unmoving and stilling all around you. He'd seen it happen to others, sometimes he was the one inflicting it. Yet somehow, he'd never experienced it. Not even when he was staring down the barrel of a gun, a bullet lodging himself in his lungs.

Not until now.

Standing in the marble bathroom, your fingers at your lips, anxiously chewing on your nails, arm wrapped around your midsection protectively.

Suddenly, Eddie felt like he was under water, ears ringing and roaring, your muffled voice that he couldn't bring himself to register the words. He felt his breath leave him, one final push of air out of his mouth, heart stilling to a stop in his chest.

The pregnancy test on the counter. Positive.

Two beady red lines that ran down the test and straight to Eddie's nervous system, shocking him back into reality. "Eddie," You sighed, heavy, a little nervous- begging. Begging him to look at you, say something, anything to you.

Eddie blinked up at you, eyes far too wide and scared. Not the usual poker face Eddie held in times of fear. Oh no, that was gone. Gone was the rationality, the stoic expression he kept for you. Eddie was scared.

"Eddie, please. I-I know it's not what we wanted," Your breath stuttered. Of course it wasn't what you wanted. Neither one of you really ever planned on kids. It wasn't in the cards with this lifestyle. More importantly, with the danger that came with this life.

"Can you... Can you say something, please?" You whimpered, your hand curling into your sweater, grabbing at the material there over your stomach.

Eddie swallowed hard, eyes flickering from the counter back to you. "I-I don't know what to say." He admitted. That was true. His mind had gone vacant with fear, his own heartbeat in his ears was deafening, making it very difficult for him to think of much of anything.

Your lip quivered, fists balling beside you. "I'm sorry..." You muttered, unsure of what else to say. "I-I don't know how this happened. I went to get my shot and I was... I was on schedule and," You stuttered, heart shattering in your own chest. "And I don't know what to do, Ed."

Eddie didn't console you. Didn't wrap you up in his arms and tell you everything would be alright. Didn't tell you he'd handle it or not to worry, that the two of you would figure it out. Not like he'd done before.

No, this time. He just stood there. Just as unsure and scared as you.

***

"Rick," Ladonna's voice carried down the hall, her heels clacking with every step behind her. "Honey, someone's here for you."

Rick huffed, pushing out from under his desk. "Don, I'm busy. Can you tell them I'm not-" Rick wasn't expecting to see Eddie there. All curly hair and wide eyes despite the heavy bags under them.

Rick flinched, looking from his wife back to Eddie. "Jesus, kid, you look like shit." He muttered, scanning his frame.

Ladonna glared at him over Eddie's shoulder, patting his back gently before excusing herself. "Did we have a meeting or something? I didn't have anything down but-"

"-I need to talk to you." Eddie said, urgent but not shrill. An eery calm that had Rick's shoulders tensing, eyes cutting around out of instinct.

"Yeah?" Rick hummed, shoving his hands in his pockets, trying to appear as cool and level headed as he could. "'bout what? What's wrong?"

"About my dad." Eddie said bluntly, eyes blinking. He looked young, like a scared teenager again.

Rick's heart lurched at the mention of Clint, mouth opening then closing. He let out a slow sigh, nodding gently. "Sure." He pushed the door to his office open, letting Eddie walk in.

Eddie didn't look around at the spacious walls or at the art lining them. No, he'd been in here too many times before, seen it before, and he was too scared to be interested. Instead, he sat on the couch, perched on the edge, hands clasped in front of him and knee bouncing.

Rick hadn't seen the kid like this in a while. Not since he first started, anxious that he'd fucked up when he'd shot someone trying to rob him. "So," Rick propped himself across from Eddie, sinking into the chair. "You want to know about your dad?"

Eddie nodded, hands pressed together in a white knuckled grasp, knee bouncing furiously, faster and faster at the mention. "Any reason why?" Rick pressed, eyes scanning over Eddie.

Eddie's breathing hitched, running a hand over his face, refusing to meet Rick's eyes. "I just... I need to know what he did." Eddie admitted with a shaky sigh.

Rick raised a brow. "You know what he did." He replied simply. "He handled the messy shit. Me and him both, actually, under David."

"No, I mean..." Eddie shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose in exasperation. "What did he... How-How did he fuck up?" Eddie lifted his eyes, leg stilling entirely. The room was uncomfortably silent. "What did he do wrong?"

Rick leaned back, the chair groaning slightly. He watched Eddie, how he rubbed his sweaty palms on his jeans, the rings on his fingers catching his eye. Specifically on his third finger, the way he twirled it around his digit with his thumb, fiddling with it anxiously.

Rick sighed heavily out his nose, nodding slowly. "So," He started, leaning forward. "Your girl's pregnant, isn't she?"

Eddie stilled, eyes widening in a dead giveaway. "How-How did you even-"

Rick shrugged, cutting him off. "Ed, you come to me, asking about your dad. You look like shit, like you're about to fucking give out on me at any moment. So either you're being haunted by Clint, or your girl is pregnant. Which is it?"

Eddie's throat bobbed, a hard swallow. "S-She just told me yesterday."

Rick's eyes bulged. "And you left?" He boomed. "Jesus Christ, kid, did you fucking tell her you were leaving?" Eddie's silence was answer enough. "For fuckssake, Ed. Your girl is pregnant and you run? What kind of bum does that?"

"I'm scared, ok!" Eddie exploded, jumping to his feet, arms out in exasperation, voice echoing off the walls. "I-I don't even know what to do, ok? I don't know why I left, I don't know why I'm here, and I don't... fuck, Rick, I don't know how to be a dad."

Rick watched him, his lips pressing together, eyes shining. He'd seen Eddie go head to head with guys double his side, not batting an eye once. He'd seen him get questioned by the feds, too calm and cool for them to crack him ever. Yet here he was, petrified, begging Rick for some sort of answers he wasn't sure he had.

"You wanna know what your dad did wrong?" Rick asked, calmly. "Clint was sloppy."

"Rick, I'm not talking about work. I mean-"

"- He was sloppy at his job, but he was sloppy as a dad, too." Rick said, jaw flexing gently. Eddie's shoulders deflated, blinking at him curiously. "You were young, and your mom... she was great, Ed. She did everything she could to keep you safe, but Clint... Clint was an alcoholic and a junkie who was too busy shoving half the stash up his nose to be a good dad or a good husband."

Eddie's heart dropped, sinking lower and lower into his chest. Rick sighed. "I know that's not what you want to hear. No kid wants to hear their dad's a piece of shit, even if you knew it. It's still shit to hear, but it's true."

"Great. Just great." Eddie threw his hands up. "I'm gonna fuck this kid up just like him and-"

"- Now, hold on." Rick stood, brow furrowed in challenge at Eddie. "When did I say that, huh? I never said that shit, kid. Don't be putting words in my mouth." The hard glare, stoic and serious flashed over Eddie's eyes for a moment before Rick continued.

"You want the truth? My honest to God opinion? Fine." Rick paused, taking a step closer to Eddie. "The fact that you're here. The fact that you're worried about becoming like your dad, worried about being a good dad, worried about keeping them both safe. That's enough to prove to me, that you're not gonna be like your dad."

Eddie hesitated, chin quivering before he clenched his teeth. "But I don't even know how to be a dad. I don't know what to do."

"No one does. Are you kiddin' me?" Rick scoffed. "You think any parent knows what the fuck they're doing? No. But they figure it out together." He glared at Eddie pointedly. "They don't fucking run. They stick around and they figure it out. Since when are you a runner, kid?"

Eddie felt his stomach twist with guilt, heart hammering at the image of you, still in bed, cheeks tear stained and shining in the low light when he slipped out late last night.

"I don't want to fuck up." Eddie whispered, shaky breaths that matched his shaking hands. "Don't want to be like my dad and ruin this kid... Ruin both their lives."

"Eddie, listen to me," Rick placed a hand on his shoulder gently. "You take care of them, you keep them safe, and you love them."

"What if I can't keep them safe?" Eddie rasped, eyes shining with fear.

"You will." Rick nodded, reassuring. "You care way too much. Clint... he got sloppy. You won't be like that."

Eddie nodded, swallowing at the thought of his mother. Rick squeezed his shoulder lightly. "You'll be a good dad, Ed. I know you will be."

"I hope you're right." Eddie said halfheartedly. "Doesn't feel like I'm off to a very good start."

Rick snorted, rolling his eyes. "Yeah, well, good thing you got some time to prepare, huh? Got some time to make it up with your missus too. If she doesn't castrate you after this. I wouldn't blame her if she did." Rick glared at him. Eddie nodded, face falling with worry as he looked down.

Rick walked around his desk, pulling the rotary phone and sliding it over to Eddie. "Call her and let her know you're alright." Rick nodded, walking towards the door.

"Thanks, Rick." Eddie muttered, but his eyes were soft, warm and genuine. He spun the dial, fingers tapping on the desk before he turned, speaking lowly into the phone.

Rick heard the shrill from across the room, Eddie flinching at the sound of what he could only assume was his furious wife. He left the room, making his way down the hall towards the bedroom, picking up the other phone off the hook, dialing a number.

"It's me. I need fifteen guys moved down in Hawkins. Back up... Send 'em some good ones down there... Yeah, just some extra muscle..." Rick muttered lowly into the phone. He knew Eddie had it covered, sure he'd be able to keep you both safe, but extra help wouldn't hurt anyone.

***

"She's pissed, Ed." Max muttered when Eddie made his way up the stairs of sidewalk. The redhead's arms crossed over her chest, glaring at him fiercely.

"I don't blame her." Eddie sighed, looking past her into the house. "Anyone else here?"

"Jeff. He calmed her down last night. Me and Gare were looking for you." Max replied. "Jeff told us you were at Rick's and... well, we got the guest room ready for you. Figured you'd be staying there for a while."

Eddie rolled his eyes, but he knew she was right. You had every reason to be mad at him, furious and hurt. His heart lurched at the thought. "Can you get Jeff and... can you both give us some space?" Eddie asked, eyes softening when he looked at Max.

Eddie didn't wait for her response, climbing up the stairs towards the bedroom. He could hear the low rumble of the TV, hesitating for a moment before he turned the knob.

There you sat, perched on the edge of the bed, arms crossed over you, lips twisted and eyes narrowed in a look of pure rage. The dogs in front of you, sitting at alert when Eddie walked in.

"Hi, baby-"

"Don't." You snapped, uncrossing your arms to pound your fist into the mattress. "Don't you fucking dare come in here acting like everything's alright. You left me? You left me?" You sneered, crossing the carpet towards Eddie.

"Baby, I didn't-"

"I wake up and you're gone. Gone. No one knows where you are. Your keys are gone, your cars gone. I didn't get a note, not a word, not so much as a goodbye, I'll be back, a fuck you, nothing!" You jabbed his chest furiously, toe to toe with him. Eddie shrunk under your furious glare.

"I was fucking terrified, Eddie. I thought something had happened, or-or that you..." You shook your head, swallowing around the thought. You couldn't bring yourself to even say it. The harsh truth that you thought was your reality just hours before.

"You left me. You left us." Your hand moved to your stomach, cradling your torso. Eddie's eyes followed, swallowing thickly around your words, around his own guilt. "If you don't want this baby, fine. Just say that, Ed. I'll leave."

"No." Eddie snapped fiercely. You faltered, shocked at his reaction. "No, please don't... I-I fucked up, ok? I was scared and I shouldn't have done that, but I'm not leaving. I'm here now, and I'm here to stay." Eddie grabbed your hands, squeezing them in his own.

"Yeah, for now." You rolled your eyes, turning your head so he wouldn't see the tears that threatened to roll down your cheeks. "Until you decide you don't want to be here-"

"-Don't." Eddie shook his head, jaw flexing with emotion. "It wasn't you or-or the baby." His throat tightened around the words, head spinning at the realization. You were bringing a baby, a real baby into this world. His baby.

"It was me." Eddie croaked, eyes shining wetly, threatening to fall with tears. "I-I just wanna be a good dad. I want to keep you both safe, and-and... I was scared, baby. I was scared I'd be like my dad and-" His face crumpled into itself, a shuttering breath that had his body shaking with sobs.

You reached for him instinctually, pulling him into you with a soothing hand on his head, letting him curl into your neck. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry." Eddie rasped. "I won't leave, I fucking swear. I'll keep you both safe. I won't let anyone hurt you." He babbled into your skin.

"I know you won't." You hushed him, cradling his head.

"I won't ever leave you again. I'm so sorry, so fucking sorry." Eddie clung to you, hands balling into the material of your shirt.

"You better not." You gave him a watery smile, cradling his jaw when he pulled back. "I'll take Rick's suggestion up next time. Have your balls on a fucking chain if you do that to me again."

Eddie laughed, wiping his nose with the back of his hand. "I won't." He said sincerely shaking his head.

His hands found your torso, squeezing gently over the place where the baby was. He swore he could feel the swell of your abdomen, a tiny change that had his heart soaring. You'd tell him it was too soon, but he knew it felt different. It was different. You two were going to be parents, bringing a baby- a life into this world.

Eddie worried constantly, endlessly if he'd be a good dad. A million "what ifs" and consuming dark thoughts that wrapped around his mind, leading him to do everything he could to prevent them from coming to fruition. He worried about the labor, about the risks after with new borns, if he'd be able to keep you both safe, if he'd fuck the kid's life up like his dad had his. He wondered if he'd worry forever, that he'd probably never stop, but he did know one thing. He'd be there for you and his baby. He wasn't going to run.

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