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#except steve doesn't seem nearly as happy as eddie thought he would be
cuoredimuschio · 1 year
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okay, but where's my steddie AU where steve wants to learn to play guitar to impress a girl he's infatuated with and he remembers that munson kid was always hanging up posters for his weird band at school, so he hikes out to eddie's usual dealing spot behind the track and asks (with far less groveling than he really should have) if eddie will teach him how to play, and obviously eddie says no because why would he want to help king steve, but of course, steve offers to pay him, $20 a week, and well, that's the kind of get-the-hell-out-of-this-shithole-town cash eddie really can't afford to refuse, so fine, he'll teach steve to play and they'll spend inordinate amounts of time together tucked away in eddie's room and they'll start to see that they have more in common than they thought and that they kind of had each other all wrong, and eddie will put his hand over steve's to help him get the placement for a tricky chord and it totally won't awaken anything in either of them?? where is it??
edit: i started writing it
#steve x eddie#steddie#stranger things#someone tell me this has already been written because i need it. please.#bonus points if steve shows up to the first practice session empty-handed#and eddie nearly calls the whole thing off when he has the Audacity to grab at eddie's sweetheart as if eddie'd ever let him play her#and he doesn't even teach steve anything that day because rule number one get your own fucking guitar and keep your mitts off mine#but by the end when eddie is deep deep deep in love and it's time to send steve off to woo this lucky girl of his#he offers to let steve take his sweetheart because she's guaranteed to make him look ten times hotter and cooler#and he'll have no trouble sweeping his girl off her feet and maybe eddie's breaking his own heart but it's fine—as long as steve's happy#except steve doesn't seem nearly as happy as eddie thought he would be#he seems sad actually and eddie kind of hates that so he starts to make some lame joke about how steve should be honored#because eddie wouldn't lend his baby out to just anyone and that gets steve to crack half a smile#but then he puts the guitar down on eddie's bed (with all due gentle reverence) walks over takes eddie's face in his hands and kisses him#kisses him like he's been dying to do it for weeks. because he has#because somewhere along the line it stopped being about wanting to impress a girl and started being about wanting to be with eddie#it started being screwing up on purpose so that eddie would grab his hands and show him how it's supposed to be done#and forgetting about lessons entirely and just sitting around and listening to eddie talk or just watching him play#because somewhere along the line steve fell out of infatuation and into love with the last person he ever expected....#anyway idk where i'm going with this
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sanguineterrain · 2 years
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Twice Bitten, Never Shy - s.h. | e.m.
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Summary: Eddie is alive. You don't know how, but it doesn't matter, does it? He's here, except... he's not back. He's been distant; sneaking out, skipping Hellfire. But tonight? You and Steve are finally going to find out why.
Word count: 4.3k
Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader x Eddie Munson
Warnings: vampire!Eddie!!! blood drinking, baby!!! if that grosses you out, maybe skip this one. I literally have no clue why Eddie would be a vampire but he is and he's still Eddie. Some self-flagellation (he chains himself up) and starving on Eddie's part, hurt comfort, angst with a fluffy ending.
A/N: oh lord. *drops this and scuttles away* Exposing myself as a vamp Eddie truther. Hope y'all like this one! In this fic, blood drinking provides a relaxing "high" for the drinked (blood provider).
BTW I wrote this with a plus sized/heavier reader in mind but there isn't much description of her body. If that bothers you then *shrug.* Eddie would think everybody's blood is fucking delicious.
Happy almost Halloween! Eddie Munson drink my blood WHEN.
divider by firefly-graphics
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"We should do something special."
"Huh?" Steve looks up from where he was stacking videos. “You mean for Halloween?"
"For Eddie," you say. "I think he could use some cheering up."
“Is something wrong?” Steve asks, immediately alert.
“No, no." You shake your head. "I’m just worried about him.”
Steve hums. “Dustin said Eddie's been missing Hellfire.”
Eddie Munson had been pronounced dead seventy-seven days ago. Dustin had returned alone and Steve had held you while you cried. The funeral had less than twenty people, limited to Wayne, Hellfire and the lunch club. After they'd lowered Eddie’s empty coffin into the ground, you’d sprinted into the church bathroom and lost your breakfast.
Two weeks later, Eddie had climbed through an open window in his trailer. He’d nearly given Wayne a heart attack. Bloody and dirty, it'd been short of a miracle no one had called the cops on him. 
But he's back. And that's all that matters. Right?
“Wayne says he hears him creep out at night,” you confess. “Won’t tell him where he’s going.”
You and Steve had found solace in each other after the earthquakes. You’d established a routine of sorts, both of you working to provide relief and comfort for the people of Hawkins. And at the end of the day, you'd slept over Steve's house more nights than not. While Hawkins had only known the earthquakes, those of you who’d experienced Vecna’s horrors up close remained haunted. Steve’s bed had been warm and he hadn't minded when you’d curled up closer to chase away the nightmares.
“Where do you think he goes?” 
You can't see Steve behind the shelves but you hear his implication. No one has an explanation for how Eddie had returned. The frightening thought that perhaps Vecna isn't as gone as you'd hoped lingers. Eddie won't talk about what happened—not with Wayne, and certainly not with any of you. 
“Please don’t make me tell you,” he’d said the first and only time you’d dared to ask. 
“I don’t know, Steve,” you reply quietly. “I wish he’d talk to us.”
He stands and approaches, movies in hand. Steve pulls you close. 
“We could check on him through a movie night?" He holds up three videos. "Eddie hasn't caught up with the new releases. No scary stuff.”
Steve tries for a smile. You mirror it, grateful he's on board. 
“Yeah," you nod eagerly. "And we’ll get food from the diner. Eddie likes their burgers. Do you think he's eating enough? I mean, he has to eat something but I keep thinking what if the Upside Down made it harder. Is Wayne noticing? Should we—"
"Y/N," Steve soothes. "Hey, hey. Deep breath."
You lean against him, forcing air into your lungs. 
“Sorry,” you whisper. “I’m just worried. I miss him. Which is stupid, 'cause he's back but it's not same."
Steve squeezes your hip gently. 
“I know. Gotta say, I miss the old Eddie too."
"I should've checked on him earlier," you lament. "Just seemed like he was avoiding all of us and I didn't wanna push but…" You throw your hands up. "I don't know!" 
"No, I get it. I think checking on him is a smart idea, baby. Eddie’s been acting off and we'll sort it out. I’m sure he’s just been working through what happened, y’know? Like the rest of us.”
“Yeah,” you say, wanting to be as confident as Steve. “You’re probably right.”
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The trailer park is dead. You suppose that's due to the fact that most people are still recovering from the earthquakes. You personally aren't too keen on being out after dark either. 
Eddie's van is outside. Wayne's truck is not. Steve jogs up the steps first and knocks on the doorframe. 
"Hey, Munson, it's us! We brought some food and movies. Thought maybe you could use a…" Steve glances at you questioningly. "Night in?" 
"With friends," you add. "If you'll have us."
“I chose the movies,” Steve offers.
“I screened them to make sure they don’t totally suck,” you grin, earning an eye roll from Steve.
No reply. You peer in through the screen door. There are a few dishes in the sink and a single lamp is on by the couch. Besides that, no sign of life. 
"Eddie?" you try again. "You there?" 
"Y/N?" croaks a voice. 
You catch a silhouette of dark curls, just out of light's reach. 
"Hey, Eds," you say softly. "It's us. Me and Steve."
"Uh," comes the reply. "H-hey. What're you guys doing here?"
"Thought you could use some company," says Steve. "We come bearing gifts. Got diner food and everything." He shakes the bag. "Your favorite heart attack on a plate."
"And movies! We can finally make Steve watch all three Star Wars."
"Yippee," deadpans Steve. 
"Oh," Eddie says thinly. "That sounds great, guys. Y’know I'd love to, it's just I'm—I'm super sick. Sick as a dog. You guys should go."
"We don't mind, Eds," you murmur. "We just didn't want you to be alone. Have you eaten? I can make you some soup."
You start to turn the handle. 
"Don't!" he yells, loud enough to startle you. 
Steve rests a hand on your back. "What's going on, man? Everything okay?" 
"Nothing's… I just can't today. Go home, please."
The shadow disappears. You glance worriedly at Steve, who shakes his head. He pulls open the door and you hesitantly follow him in. The lock chain has been snapped off.
"Eds, you don't sound okay…" 
Across the trailer, Eddie's bedroom door slams. You whip your head around. Steve steps forward, holding an arm out to keep you behind him. He sets the food on the counter. 
"Eddie?" you call out, voice getting higher. "Eddie, what’s going on?" 
"I'm fine!" is the instant response. "Go home. I'll c–catch you tomorrow."
There's a thump behind the door. Then a jangling sound, like that of metal. You peek around Steve's shoulder.
"Eddie, this isn't cool," he warns. "C'mon, man. If something's going on, tell us."
You both know what the other is thinking: had Vecna returned? Eddie had his oddities now and then, but he'd never shoot you down like this. 
Steve puts a hand on the doorknob and turns. It's locked. 
"You need to leave." Eddie's voice is sharper, like he's in pain. "I'm serious. Go."
More metal. A heavy clunk. Then Eddie cries out, quick and cut off. 
"Eddie?" you say again, jiggling the doorknob. "Eddie, let us in!" 
"Go away!" he growls, nearly unrecognizable. 
That's enough for Steve. He drags you back and throws all his weight into the door. It splinters open, and you both stumble through. 
"Steve!" You rush to him, hovering. "Oh my God. Are you okay? Anything hurt?" 
"I'm fine." He picks up his head. "I'm… holy shit."
You turn. Eddie is in his desk chair. He's hunched over, wheezing quietly. Around his wrists and chest are thick iron chains. You can see burns where the iron touched his skin. He's paler than usual, alabaster to the point of concern. But the biggest difference is Eddie's eyes. Normally a rich brown, the irises are now a dull red. And they're locked on you. 
He looks mortified you're here, though you'd bet good money he isn't as mortified to see you as you are him. 
"Eddie, oh my God. What—what are you doing? What happened to your eyes? Are you on drugs?" you blurt, going to your knees in front of the chair. “Steve, call an ambulance.”
"No! Don't touch me! Y/N, please. Both of you. You have to leave."
"I'm not leaving you, not when you're chained up! Who did this? Eddie, what's going on?" 
You struggle with the chains; you can hardly believe Eddie managed to heave them over himself. He rolls back before you have a chance to try to free him. He sags against the armrests.  
"Leave 'em," he pants. 
"They're hurting you! Steve, help me," you beg. 
Steve gets closer, then stops.
"Steve, come on," you urge. "He's in pain, what are you…"
Steve looks at you, then at Eddie. Carefully, he steps in front of you. 
"Eddie," he begins. "What happened in the Upside Down?"
"I," Eddie chokes. His eyes are glassy. "I was dead. I am dead."
You stand, about to approach. But Steve holds your arm. Wearily, Eddie watches you. He shuts his eyes and opens his mouth. Long white fangs protrude from his top gums. It's a wonder they don't cut into his lip. 
"Jesus Christ," breathes Steve. 
"Eddie?" you try meekly. "Wh-what…"
"I came back a monster!" he explodes. Steve's grip tightens on your arm. "I have to chain myself down to keep from hurting anybody. I can't eat, can't sleep. Hawkins should hunt me down."
"Don't say that," you say. Your brain is static. "You're not a monster, Eddie. Whatever it is, we can—"
"You need to leave. I can't—"
He crumples with a shout. You jerk forward, slipping out of Steve's grip. 
"Eddie! Ed, talk to me. What's wrong? Steve," you urge. "Steve, please help me get these off of him."
"No," Eddie grunts. "Steve, get her out."
"No!" you yell. "I'm not leaving you like this. Tell me what will fix it. What'll make the pain go away?" 
"I just have to wait it out," Eddie says, but his eyes are sunken, cheeks gaunt. Monster or not, Eddie is killing himself. 
"Not if you're in pain! Is it Vecna? Is he making you do things?" 
"No," Eddie sniffles. "No, he's not, and that's the worst part. It's all me. I'm the fuckin' sicko who has to chain himself up so I'll keep everybody safe."
"Safe from what?" Steve demands. 
Eddie looks at him, maroon eyes wide. And you know. You both do. 
"It's in all the D&D books," Eddie laughs wetly. "Should've seen it coming. Self-fulfilling prophecy, really."
"You… " You swallow. "You can't wait it out forever, Eds," you say. You put a hand on his knee. "You have to eat."
"I can't," he cries. "I tried so many times. But I can't keep anything down. Not even animals. I swear to you."
"I know," you soothe. "I believe you. It's okay."
You bend over him, inspecting the worst of the burns. Steve hovers, still unsure. He winces at the angry red welts criss crossed over Eddie's arms. 
"Steve," you say, swallowing hard so you won't tear up in front of Eddie. "Get the first aid kit. It's in the medicine cabinet."
You'd insisted Wayne have one after he'd sliced his finger fixing your car. 
"Whoa, hold on. What are you doing, Y/N?" Steve asks. 
"We have to tend to the burns. I'll stay with him."
"No," Eddie begs. "I don't trust myself. I don't wanna hurt you, Y/N. I can't. Please don't do this."
"Eds," you hush. "You won't hurt me. It's okay. I'm gonna help you. Steve?"
Steve, after much deliberation, hurries out to get the first aid kit. 
"I don't need first aid," Eddie mumbles. "It'll heal as soon as I take 'em off."
"I figured," you say quietly. "Just wanted Steve to take a minute alone. Will you at least let me untie your feet?"
Eddie had bound his feet with heavy duty nylon rope, and they cut into his ankles.  
"No," he grits. "I have to protect you guys."
So you crawl next to him instead. You aren't afraid. He's still Eddie. 
"How long have you been doing this?" you murmur. 
"C-couple months. Ever since I came back. At first I could ignore it but the hunger pangs got stronger."
You make a soft noise, chewing your lip. 
"You gotta eat, Eddie. This is killing you."
"Can't kill something that's already dead," he huffs. "Anything's better than hurting people. I'll never eat again if it'll keep people safe."
You put a hand to the side of your neck, feeling your blood pulse through your veins. Eddie looks away, face twisted. Steve returns then, tossing the kit beside you. He goes to his knees next to you on the floor. 
"What happened? Y/N?"
"I'm okay," you say. "Eddie's been starving himself since he got back."
Steve's mouth drops in horror. 
"That's almost three months. How are you still going?"
Eddie eyes him warily. "I did what I had to. What if I attacked somebody? Couldn't—"
He stops, whimpering in pain. It's getting worse, his hair matted with sweat. 
"Steve, get these off him," you order. 
"No no, Y/N, you don't understand," Eddie panics shakily. "This is the only thing holding me back."
"You don't have to hold back," you say softly. 
"What're you talking about?" 
You take a deep breath, trying to keep your voice measured. 
"You don't have to hold back because you'll drink from me."
Eddie throws himself backwards at that, shaking his head.
"Nope, no way. Absolutely not. No way in hell."
"Y/N," Steve starts. "Are you sure…"
"He's sick, Steve!" you burst. "This is the only way to help him. What are we supposed to do? Let him waste away?" 
"But what if something happens…"
"Eddie's not some bloodthirsty monster," you snap. "He's starved himself for months and he's still lucid and begging us to leave. He'd die before he asks for help."
Steve's resolve is slipping. Eddie's close to losing consciousness. 
"This isn't something a hospital can fix."
Who knows how much longer he can go like this?
"I can't lose him again," you beg. "He's our friend."
Steve sighs, body sagging in defeat. 
"Okay, okay. But we need ground rules. If you start feeling dizzy or anything, it stops."
"Deal," you agree.
"I'm serious, Y/N. If anything feels off, you have to say so."
"I will," you insist. "Okay?"
"No, not okay, not okay!" Eddie wails. 
"Eddie." You take his hand; it's like ice. "Let me help. I want to do this. You're not hurting me, not forcing me. I promise."
Steve lifts the chains. You help Eddie to the floor. When he doesn’t protest—or, perhaps, is too weak to do so—you scoot closer. He still won’t let you remove the rope, drawing his legs back each time. So you straddle his thighs, hyper aware of not letting all your weight sink onto him. 
"Get comfortable," Eddie says when he realizes what you’re doing. "I can take it."
"I don't wanna hurt you, Eds."
“I got you. Can do that, at least.”
His hand fits over the soft curve of your waist. You glance at Steve, who's now on the bed. He gives a single nod, leg jiggling. You turn back, cupping Eddie's shoulder. His eyes are still a cloudy red. They meet your own. 
"Are you sure about this?" 
You tip your head, presenting your carotid. 
"Yeah, Eds. I trust you."
Eddie hums, fingers digging into your plush hip. His eyes dart to Steve, then to your neck. He holds your other side like you’re made of glass. 
The first pinch of teeth stings. You focus on not reacting too much because anything amiss will spook Eddie beyond reason. His breath is hot on your skin, and as the first sip of blood coats his tongue, Eddie's grip on you tightens. He groans against your neck, hand slipping down to grab the meat of your thigh. You gasp, body growing slack as he drinks. 
"You alright?" Steve asks.
"'M fine," you reply breathily. 
The more Eddie drinks, the heavier your eyelids get. The sting turns pleasant after the first pierce of teeth. You feel oddly euphoric, limbs syrupy. Even better, Eddie's strength returns as he feeds. He holds you to his chest and bends his knees.
The rope snaps like dental floss. He grunts, pulling your thigh over his hip. You cling. It’s getting hard to keep your eyes open. You've never felt like this before. Eddie pushes against you, chest heaving as he greedily gulps.
"Eds," you gasp, hyper aware of your pulse. 
He seems to be in a trance.
"Shit, okay. That's enough, c'mon," Steve urges.
You’re slow in tapping out, feeling floaty. But as soon as you squeeze Eddie's shoulder, he’s off of you. He gasps like he’s just run a marathon. Drops of your blood smear across his lips. His tongue darts out to catch it all. 
Steve supports your weakened body, easing you off Eddie. Your head lolls but you manage a smile, not wanting to worry them. 
"Are you okay, baby? Did I hurt you?" Eddie asks, honed in on your expression.  
"No," you assure. "Feels good."
His brows rise. "It does?"
"Mmhm. Floaty. Like… sleepy but good."
Eddie looks better. Guilty as anything, but you can handle that later. He isn't comatose and that’s all you care about right now. 
"Oh, uh," he says, licking his lips. "I’m glad, then. Thank you."
"You can suck me anytime," you grin, which makes him smirk. 
Steve helps you onto Eddie's bed, and you roll over to watch him. Eddie’s more alert, not desperate for blood. But he’s drumming his fingers and bouncing his leg, something he does when he’s nervous. 
“What’s ‘a matter, Eds?”
“Hmm?” 
You nod slightly. 
“Why’re you all jittery?”
Eddie immediately stills. 
“'M not. I’m okay, really.”
You frown. 
"You're still hungry."
Eddie's eyes dart to you, not dull but still nowhere as vibrant as you know they can be. 
"You need more," you realize.
Of course he needs more. After three months of starvation, it’s impossible one person would be enough. Especially when he’s not bleeding you dry.  
"I'm not drinking anymore from you, Y/N," he tells you. "Absolutely not."
"You have to recover, Eds. How can you heal if you're not properly nourishing your body?"
"I got through it without eating at all. I'll be fine on half a tank. You're staying right there."
Weakly, you push yourself up on your elbows. Steve hurries over, trying to get you to lie back down. 
"C'mon, sweetheart, you gotta rest."
"Eddie won't take care 'f himself," you protest. “What if it doesn’t work, Steve?”
"I'm fine!" Eddie insists. "Really, I feel much better."
Steve chews his lip. "Would more blood get you at one hundred percent?"
"Whether it would doesn't matter, Harrington. I'm not taking any more blood from her."
"I know," Steve shrugs. "Take it from me."
"Steve," you whisper. "Don't do it for my sake. I don't wanna push you—"
"You're not. But you're right: he needs to recover. And nothing will do it better than, uh… food."
Steve coaxes you back to bed. Then he goes to the floor and sits back on his haunches. The look he gives Eddie is pure King Steve, a ghost of the past. You know it’s all for Eddie's sake and maybe yours, this shroud of confidence. 
"So, Munson? What d'you say?" 
Eddie glances at him, shoulders stiff. 
"You don't have to do this."
"I've got more blood than her," Steve reasons. "And you need it."
"I don't need it," even though sweat had begun to gather on Eddie's brow. "And I don't wanna force you into anything."
"You're not," Steve says, gentler this time. "C'mon." 
"You're sure?" 
Steve rests his tongue on his teeth, tilting his head. 
"Yeah, I’m sure. Bite me, Munson."
"If I hurt you…" Eddie begins.
"I'll watch him, Eds. Promise," you say. "Go on, drink. It's okay."
Steve doesn’t sit as intimately as you had. But they aren't far from each other: Eddie holds the side of Steve's neck and Steve grips Eddie's forearm in return, their left legs slotted against each other. 
Steve's breath hitches at the first bite. You see his grip tighten then relax as Eddie drinks. 
"Jesus," Steve gasps. "How is this still not the weirdest thing we've ever done?"
"Nothing beats that Vecna creep," you giggle sleepily. 
Steve’s arm starts to wobble from where it supports his other side. 
"Feel okay?" you ask. 
"Mm," Steve affirms, lids drooping. "Feels kinda nice."
"Tingly, right?" 
He laughs. "Yeah. Warm, too. Sh-shit."
His arm buckles. You can't imagine trying to support yourself while Eddie drinks. The bite is meant to incapacitate, presumably. But Eddie's strong. Each time Steve slips a little further, Eddie hoists him back. Both hands now hold Steve's waist. 
"Wait, Eddie," Steve slurs, tapping Eddie's side. 
Eddie pulls off immediately, wiping the blood with the back of his hand. His eyes are fully crimson now, almost glowing in the dim light. 
"You okay? Steve?" 
"'M fine, just needa lie down. Don't have the strength."
"Oh," Eddie breathes, expression a little wild. "Okay, shit, uh—here."
And easy as anything, Eddie scoops Steve up into his arms. Steve scrambles for purchase, but you know how boneless he feels.
“Let ‘im carry you, baby,” you say. “He’s got you, ‘s okay.” 
Eddie has to do most of the labor. He sets Steve next to you on the bed. You slip your hand in Steve's, drowsily curling into him. 
"Y'want more?" Steve asks, open and trusting. "I can take it."
Eddie licks the drops of blood from where his fangs had pierced Steve's neck. Then, without hesitation, he dives back in, less delicate this time. Steve whines, hips canting slightly. You watch on in a doze, pushing Steve's hair away from his face. Your face presses against his neck, which twitches with each gulp of blood Eddie takes. Lazily, you drag your lips up to the shell of Steve's ear. He whimpers, hand slowly finding the back of your head. 
"Y/N," he gasps.
"Hmm? Y'okay, Stevie?"
"'S good," he sighs. "F-fuck."
Eddie stops before Steve taps out. He pulls back panting, wiping the corner of his mouth with a knuckle. Steve is sedative. You’re nowhere near alert.
"Fuck," Eddie grunts, chest heaving. "Fuck, fuck. All those books that talk about the blood rush made no sense. Now I get it."
As if on instinct, Eddie curls an arm around each of your waists, hefting you up so he can curl into you. You pat his head blindly. Steve only hums, draped over Eddie's shoulder. 
"Feel good, Ed?" you ask. 
"So good," Eddie mumbles. "You guys are warm. Been cold these months. Can’t shake it.”
You feel his forehead with the back of your hand. It’s fruitless, logically; Eddie is dead—or, well, undead. His body temperature isn’t going to be like yours.
Eddie chuckles, vibrating your chest. 
“Don’t think that’s gonna work, sweets. But the blood made me warmer.”
“Tha's good. Can we eat somethin’?” you ask. “Feel dizzy.”
“Oh, shit,” Eddie hisses. “Shit, shit!”
Steve startles, trying and failing to wake up.
“Wha‘s the matter?” he slurs. “Eddie?”
“You need sugar! I had to retake that bio unit twice! Fuck, fuck. Don’t worry, I’m gonna get you something. Stay there, okay? What am I saying, you have to stay there… Jesus.”
Eddie carefully sets you down and climbs over Steve’s legs to race to the kitchen. You seek out Steve, like a flower to sunlight. He hums as you snuggle into him. 
“Weirdest movie night I’ve ever had,” he mumbles.
You smile, kissing his cheek. Steve scrunches his nose happily.
“Are you okay?”
“Mm, yeah. Should recover soon. Feeling a little more clear. ‘M kinda dizzy though.”
“Yeah, we gotta get our blood sugar levels up,” you hum. “I hope Eddie knows leftover lasagna isn’t sugar-rich.”
“Got it!” you hear Eddie call back.
“Hm. Super vampire hearing. Dope,” Steve says.
“It is!” Eddie replies.
“Stop eavesdropping!” you giggle. 
“Can’t help it!”
Eddie’s back in what feels like a minute. He sets down uneven chunks of sliced apples and a sleeve of Chips Ahoy, as well as two glasses of orange juice. Steve starts to try and sit up. Eddie’s quick to help you both up, stuffing pillows behind you.
“I’ll make it more comfy, I promise,” he says, frowning at the way Steve’s head lolls. 
“‘S okay, Eds,” you yawn. “Next time.”
Eddie pauses briefly, then takes a cookie, putting it to your lips. You take it happily, chewing slowly. He brings a slice of apple to Steve, who frowns.
“I can do it, y’don’t—”
“The blood loss hit you harder, big guy. C’mon, take a little,” Eddie coaxes.
Steve pouts for another moment, but eventually opens his mouth, eyes droopy. Eddie beams.
“Good. You’re both so good, know that?”
Eddie brushes a crumb from your mouth.
“So are you, Eds,” you say. “And no more starving yourself, okay? I mean it.”
He nods, looking properly chastened. 
“‘Kay. I won’t. But I dunno where I’m gonna get blood. I suppose I could try animals, but…”
“Hellooo?” Steve huffs, rolling his eyes. “We’re right here, man.”
Eddie blinks. 
“What—”
“Did you think this was a one time thing?” you ask.
“You guys can’t do this every time,” Eddie scoffs.
“Why not?” 
Steve reaches for the juice. Eddie takes it and holds it to Steve's lips before he can. You smile, heart swelling with fondness. 
“There’s two of us,” Steve continues, wiping his mouth with his hand. “It makes sense.”
“Steve, you can’t be serious—”
“The hell I’m not, Eddie. We’re not letting you get sick like that again. Now shut up and let us take care of you.”
Eddie rolls his eyes and feeds Steve another bite of apple.
“Don’t remember you being this bossy, Harrington.”
“Well, that was before earthquakes and vampires, Munson. Tell ‘em, honey.”
“Yeah, Eds,” you say softly. “We’re here.”
“Oh.” He swallows hard. “Fuck. I didn’t—you guys really…?”
You open your arms. Eddie falls into your embrace. You kiss his hair.
“We missed you,” you say. 
“Missed you too,” he whispers. “So much. ‘M sorry I kept disappearing. Was just scared.”
“We’ve got you,” Steve soothes. “No more doing this alone.”
Eddie sniffs, wiping his nose.
“Shit, guys. ‘M supposed to be this badass vampire. You’re cramping my style.”
“Your secret’s safe with us,” you laugh, patting his shoulder. 
“Can big, bad vamps still watch Halloween movies?” Steve asks. “Is that in the handbook?”
“'Course, baby.” Eddie leans in close, fanged grin on display. 
“And don’t worry. I’ll protect ya from the monsters.”
350 notes · View notes