#Vampire!Steve

[nobody-knows-im-here]

Vampire!Steve and RidiculousBathrobe!Tony

[yourfavoritewitchbitch]

Midnight Temptation

Sweet Seduction

An encounter with a handsome, intriguing stranger who has his eyes set on you. Are you prey... Or something more.

This will be a series of blurbs featuring Vampy Steve!

As always, my works are 18+ MDNI! This one does not contain any smut.

CW: This one is pretty mild. Smoking. Mentions feeding on humans/blood lust. Vampires. No use of Y/N.

WC: 1.6K

The chilled autumn breeze catches you off guard, as you tighten your coat around yourself. Early October winds stripped most of the reds and yellows from the trees, littering the sidewalk with its array of discarded foliage. A pity none crunch under your feet, dampened by the rain that seems to be never ending this week.

It's only another few blocks but the sudden drop in temperature wasn't what you expected today. Then again, you hardly ever caught the weather forecast.

Glancing at your watch, you picked up the pace, trying to avoid another earful from your boss for being late. It was just a shitty dive bar, you could easily pick up another shift at a handful of places around the city, but you’d just gotten the job a month ago and didn’t want to start looking again so soon.

Arriving just in time, you barreled through the door to avoid any backlash, but your spirits were immediately dashed when your boss told you the other waitress called out with no replacement, leaving you alone for the night.

It started out easy enough, a few regulars filtering in that were easy going but before long the place had gotten packed. You were making a mad dash around the place to keep up for the rest of the evening into the late night.

He had slipped in easily, going unnoticed, weaving through the crowd with sure and measured steps. Women took notice as he passed by, along with a few men, as he navigated to the dimly lit booth in the far corner of the bar making himself at home, spreading out and making himself more comfortable. His long legs stretched beneath the table, crossing as the ankle.

You were taking a couple's drink order, pausing mid-sentence when his eyes caught yours. He was shrouded by the dark, but for a moment you could have sworn his eyes were glowing amber before he looked away.

“Are you even listening to me?” The blonde bimbo squeaked, snapping her perfectly manicured fingers in front of your face pulling your attention back to her.

“Shit, yeah, sorry. That was a gin and tonic for him and a cosmopolitan for you, right?” Plastering your best fake smile across your face as you said it. She rolled her eyes replying with an annoyed “yeah.”

You nodded, eyes drifting back over to him as you walked away but he was gone. It had only been a mere few seconds and somehow, he had managed to sneak away. Quickly surveying the room, trying to catch a glimpse of this mystery man, you spot a head caramel highlighted tresses slipping out the door into the night.

Weird.

You checked the rest of your tables before telling your boss you were taking a smoke break, walking through the kitchen and out into the back alley.

-

He was walking downtown late one evening, making his usual rounds. Local dive bars, near the east side, frequented by vagrants and some homeless. They were easy prey, though he had to watch the addicts, their essence tasted like battery acid, burning the entire way down.

He looked for people that weren't believable. The ones that if his mind manipulation failed, no one would bat an eye at thinking an actual vampire lurked in the streets and shadows of Indy. His thoughts drifted to Eddie, how easily he could ease into someone's thoughts, simply by gazing into their eyes. He had always been so much better at making sure no one remembered his late night visits.

He was close to his usual spot, a small diner situated near an alley that was backed up to a row of abandoned warehouses when he caught a scent of someone intoxicating that hit him so hard and potent it stopped him in his tracks.

His body was on autopilot following his nose and blood lust to a small dive bar on the edge of town. He stepped in, eyes quickly searching everyone in the dimly lit bar, but no one stood out right away.

He grabbed a booth at the far end, half shrouded so he could watch the room without being noticed and that's when you stepped out from the back.

His senses were flooded, causing him to close his eyes and take a deep breath. Why you? Why were you so special?

When he allowed himself to look back up, you were staring directly at him. He knew his eyes were burning embers as his canines suddenly pierced his bottom lip, hissing to himself from losing control as he looked away.

You were distracted once he had regained composure, so he quickly moved to leave.

His cold, dead heart suddenly felt like it was pumping blood through his body again, coursing through his veins at a rapid pace. That nervous trepidation when meeting someone that made your stomach flip overtook him. He hadn’t felt like this in years, not since he was still alive.

He HAD to get out of there.

He turned the corner to take the alleyway to stay away from the crowds on the main strip and maybe snag a quick late night snack.

He was taking his time but then you walked out. He moved lightning fast, his back pressed up against the brick exterior of the adjacent building, silently watching you from the shadows.

Inhaling another deep breath, he willed his lungs to expand, relishing your scent this close and personal without the obstruction of other people.

He'd never smelled anything like it. It was sweet. Strawberries and honey, an alluring mixture that called to him like a siren's song, one that he couldn't ignore. It was too tempting to steer himself away before crashing into the rocks and letting you drown him.

He couldn’t stop the words from tumbling from his mouth as he stepped out of his hiding place.

-

There were a couple of old crates stacked in the corner by the dumpster that everyone used as a makeshift stool. You plopped yourself down onto with a heavy sigh, pulling out a crumpled pack of smokes and lighter.

“Great.” Huffing to yourself pulling out the last one and placing the filter between your lips, lighting the end with a cherry red glow illuminating your face.

The back alley was dark, except for one streetlight to the left at the main road. It was quiet. You relished in the few peaceful moments you could steal away from the loud music that faintly trickled out.

You took a long drag, holding the nicotine laced smoke in your lungs for a few seconds, slowly releasing it, when you heard a gravelly voice from the shadows.

“Those things’ll kill you.”

Your head shot toward the sound, heart rate ticking up slightly with the knowledge that he had obviously been watching you.

Slowly he stepped out into the light, worn denim jeans on long legs, slim waist and an expansive chest, clad in a simple black v neck t-shirt under his matching leather jacket. Your eyes trailed slowly up, a silver chain around his neck catching the light and reflecting it back to you when his face was finally revealed.

He was handsome. Too handsome for a place like this.

From your vantage point, you made out his strong jawline and aquiline nose. His dark eyes seemed to look straight through you.

“Sorry, if I spooked you.” Rushing out as if he could feel the tension suddenly radiating from you, making a show of his hands taking another step in your direction.

“You make it a habit of skulking around in dark alleyways?” You smirked, sliding the cigarette back between your lips. There was something about him that intrigued you, your eyes shifting to examine his charming exterior, but it felt like there was something more dark lurking just below the surface.

The words slipped out before you realized it, that snarky, tough girl attitude seeping through but he simply grinned, amused with you.

“Not usually.” He kept his gaze firmly fixated on you as he spoke, giving no other explanation. “Got a smoke I could bum?”

“Sorry, fresh out.” Making a show of crumpling the empty pack and tossing into the dumpster as you stood, finishing the last of yours before stubbing it out. “And I need to get back to work.”

“Right.” He nodded. “Maybe next time.”

“Yeah, sure, pretty boy. Yo—”

“What'd you just call me?” His suddenly demanding voice cut you off as you turned back around, suddenly face to face with him, startling you once again wondering how the hell he got across the alleyway so quickly.

“Wha— I,” your brows marry with confusion. “I— pretty boy?”

“Why'd you call me that?” He asked, leaning further into your space. This close you could see his eyes were a golden array of warmth.

“I don't know. It just— your eyes are really… beautiful.” Blurting out without a second thought, as if those eyes had you pinned under some sort of spell.

He suddenly took a couple steps back, looking away and breaking whatever the moment was.

“I'm sorry, I— you should go back to work. Sorry I bothered you.” He backed further away and turned, working his way towards the shadow. Hoping it wouldn't be the last time you'd see him; you spoke back up.

“Aren't you coming back in?” You rushed out.

“Maybe some other time.” He lamented, a hint of regret in his voice as he stopped but didn’t turn back around.

“Well, can I at least get a name, or do you just prefer pretty boy?” You smirked.

“It's Steve.” If only you could see the smile that split his face. It had been a long time since he'd told anyone his real name and he's still not quite sure why he told you.

“Well, Steve, guess I’ll see you around.” You smiled, as you headed back toward the door without waiting for a response. You gripped the handle and peered back in the direction he had just been walking, but much to your surprise he was already gone.

[thediktatortot]

Rendered the Vampire!Steve Harringrove we’re Billy is about to be lunch turned lover. (Piece for @adelacreations)

See Night version below.

[xzerosparrowx]

Here is a snippet of the Vampire AU fic I'm writing for the Steddie Bingo challenge, I'm trying for the 25k word goal. Steve is a vampire and Eddie is a part-time muscian.

The bar is crowded and suffocating. Eddie orders a double of whisky, drowning his anger with it in two quick gulps. He orders another double, the bartender refilling his drink. Eddie’s gaze drifts across the bar to a darkned corner, his breath catching in his throat when he sees the man sitting at a booth, Adrian beside him, waving Eddie over. He knows he should feel something for the warmth in Adrian’s smile, but against the cool, hungry beauty of the stranger, it’s nothing. A forgotten thing. 

“Adrian,” Eddie smiles, lightly pecking Adrian’s cheek, his eyes fixed on the man as Eddie sits directly across from the stranger. 

“Eddie Munson, this is Steve Harrington. He’s been my neighbour for the past month, but we haven’t met each other until tonight, can you believe that?” Adrian explains excitedly, but all Eddie can see is the man’s - Steve’s - arm draped across the back of the seat, muscles straining against his white shirt and Eddie is surprised at the hot flash of possessiveness crawl up his throat.

This man, the stranger who has consumed Eddie’s thoughts for the past week—Steve Harrington—tilts his head, a knowing, amused smile spreading across his handsome face. He is everything Eddie is not. Where Eddie is rough and dirty, Steve Harrington is clean with quiet luxury. Where Eddie is all dark ink and leather, Steve Harrington is the epitome of all-American-pie beauty. In Steve Harrington’s universe, the world caters and bends to his will.  

“Adrian has told me so much about you, Edward,” Steve says coolly, staring down at him as his perfect mouth parts into a grin. Eddie cannot help but follow Steve’s fingers as they delicately dance against Adrian’s arm, nor can he stop the irrational jealousy that hits him when he watches Adrian blush like a fucking teenager.

“Good things, I hope,” Eddie replies, his heart thundering against his ribs as Steve’s eyes flash with amusement and thinly veiled heat, his tongue poking his cheek playfully.

“Adrian thinks very highly of you, Edward,” Steve answers, turning those hungry eyes to Adrian. “Don’t you, you sweet thing?” he croons, fingers brushing down Adrian’s arm, along the defined cut of his jaw, and the long line of his neck. Eddie feels seized by it—a string of jealousy, of selfish possessiveness tight against his ribs, his breath shallow as he watches Adrian become lost in Steve. Eddie is forgotten.

Steve turns away—Adrian gasping lightly next to him—as his sure, fluid hands takes a cigarette from a thin silver case and lights it. They sit, Eddie and Adrian, rapt in the motion of Steve taking a deep pull of his cigarette, watching him stretch his neck as he tilts his head towards the ceiling, releasing a plume of milky white smoke to hang in the rafters above.

“You play very well,” Steve finally says, fixing his gaze back on Eddie. “You’re very magnetic,” the world fades, pulling him underwater until Eddie’s whole universe focuses on those hazel eyes, capturing him. Distantly, Eddie knows Steve is speaking, those perfect lips wrapping around foreign words that he doesn’t understand—Italian, Eddie vaguely recognizes. “Quando ti ho visto sul palco domenica, non ho potuto fare a meno di esserne completamente attratto.”

But all he hears is Steve’s voice slipping into his mind - too clear, too perfect: “When I saw you on stage on Sunday, I couldn’t help but be drawn in.” 

Eddie’s heart skips, the strange clarity leaving him dazed, the world flickering, caught between two realities, teetering on the knife-edge of both. Steve’s voice continues, drawing Eddie back to the world, “... I had almost given up on Chicago, thinking I had to go back to Europe,” the words trailing out as if nothing had changed. Eddie blinks, realizing too late that he’s missed a part of what Steve said, the world snapping into focus too fast, leaving Eddie feeling like he got tossed around in a tornado - disorientated and breathless.

[perceivedregret]

vampire steve with his human boyfriend eddie munson. what happens when his bloodlust caves and overwhelms him more than the good ole regular lust?

currently a wip

Eddie pulls the hem of Steve’s shirt and slips his hands underneath, cold fingers making Steve’s stomach tense with the touch. Steve chases his lips when he pulls away, adores the way the corners of Eddie’s mouth reach for his dimples.

“What?” Steve murmurs in amusement, capturing Eddie’s lips again before giving him a chance to answer. Steve skates his tongue along Eddie’s bottom lip, asking, and Eddie hums contently as he parts his lips in answer.

His pulse skips as Steve’s hands tighten on his hips. Steve takes a step, slotting his thigh between Eddie’s, who eagerly  tugs the front of Steve’s shirt to further close the near non-existent space between them. He rolls his hips along Steve’s thigh, gasping when he’s suddenly dragged backwards, almost tripping over the corner of the runner that leads to his room.

Eddie’s hands roam over Steve’s chest, laughing into Steve’s mouth when one of his rings catches on the hair that sits there. Steve’s hisses into his mouth before he nips lightly along Eddie’s lips, not enough to bite, never enough to possibly break skin. Eddie just hisses back, mouth moving onto Steve’s neck as the back of his knees hit the edge of the bed.

Steve gently lowers them down, using his strength to gently but quickly flip their positions. Another thing Steve won’t allow is for Eddie to never be in control, to never to be on top. Eddie goes with the motions, eager to take control even if he doesn’t fully agree with the reasons behind it.

Eddie sinks heavily against Steve, using his position to pull Steve’s neck further back to deepen the mark he’s always determined to leave behind, even if Steve will heal too quickly for it to stay for too long. Steve lets him, lost in the scent that is Eddie Munson and his blood. Blood that he’ll never allow himself to taste, no matter how much Eddie begs. Again, it doesn’t stop Eddie from trying.

They slowly make their way towards the head of the bed, with Steve sitting upright with Eddie in his lap, knees tight around his hips. Eddie pulls away from Steve’s neck, finally, sighing contently he leaves a mark, even if it starts to heal before his eyes. Next time he thinks, kiss swollen lips crashing back onto Steve’s as he takes his face in his hands, rings searingly cold against the heat of Steve’s skin.

He rocks forward once, a strained moan escaping both men that leaves them both panting into each other’s mouth. It makes Steve’s insides burn, another strained moan escaping him as he starts to want Eddie in more ways than one.

“Sorry,” Eddie breathes, closing the distance between them, his tongue plunging deep into Steve’s mouth in apology. Steve takes it gladly, his vampiric sight making his head go foggy as his body yearns for more than Eddie’s body pressed up against his. Eddie’s tongue presses flat against the roof of his mouth and Steve stiffens. Eddie freezes with him, except for his tongue which continue searching because–

Steve pulls away with a pop, careful to open his mouth to avoid something stupid like cutting his boyfriend’s tongue with his vampire teeth that have chosen now to extract from his gums.

“Shit,” he sighs, head turning away to hide himself as best he can while Eddie remains in this lap. “Shit shit shit, that’s not supposed to happen, I’m–”

----------------------

still have more to write but this is where im at so far. i have an entire world i've built and am contining to build over on my ao3, fic links in my pinned if you're interested. no smut in that one, but plenty of angst and pining so far

[runninriot]

do you ever go back to read one of your own fics and think: 'What the fuck? I wrote this??" because i just did and i'm... 😩🥺🥹

Show Me What It’s Like (To Live On The Other Side) | ao3

It felt like two halves of one tattered soul had finally been stitched back together. A heart broken in two finally mended and able to take up its beating melody. Steve’s mouth on his neck, his hand on his back, his tongue on his skin – it all felt so familiar, like the echo of a faded touch of a lover long lost, a wilting memory revived by liquid desire to blossom anew. A thorny flower of ravishing colour and intoxicating scent, beautiful to look at but dangerous to lay a finger on. Everything about this is dangerous.

can't believe it's been a year since i finished this! i had so much fun writing this story and i'm still utterly in love with it. I need more Vampire!Steve in my life 🦇🖤

[therosebunpost]

So, I just donated plasma today and i was thinking about how much work it would be to feed your vampire boyfriend-

Cuz like, I got deep, thin veins and I imagine meeting Eddie. You wanna help him out, give him your blood, but the second he gets close enough to inspect you he knows he can’t do it safely. Which sucks, because you have a bitting kink- BECAUSE you love him and want him fed <3

So, you get a move on! You drink a fuck ton of water, do some exercises, take the hottest showers known to man, and then, you are rewarded with a very sexy bite from your very sexy vampire boyfriend <3 Honestly it’s just as beneficial for you as it is for him. You feel pretty good after a while, well hydrated and even strong. Plus, you’re eating better too because you need to have a lot of iron and protein.

Honestly I’m also thinking about Vampire! Steve, because you start joining him on his work outs. For one thing, he loves hanging out with you, but he also can hear the blood rushing through your veins so he’s excited. You guys figure out a good meal plan for you to follow, and he’s more then happy to cook for you! You’re giving him something so precious after all, of course he wants to give back when he can.

[yourfavoritewitchbitch]

Midnight Temptation

My Bloody Valentine

Part I

You learn a little more about the handsome stranger but not everything is as it seems. Still aloof and secretive but there's just something about him that has captivated you.

18+ Only! MDNI

CW: Slow Burn. Dark and mature themes. Vampire!Steve. Reader is pushed and attacked. Harsh language. Mention of blood and abrasions. Let me know if I missed anything!

WC: 4.7K

Steve… Steve… Steve…

Those eyes. You couldn’t forget those pools of molten amber that bore into yours as if he could see into your very soul.

The tall, dark and handsome stranger edged past the corner of your dream land that very night, catching a glimpse of him in your peripheral, out of place but not unwelcome. Hidden in the shadows, just as he had in the alleyway, watching and waiting. Each time you turn your face to gain a better look, he disappears, always just out of reach.

You awoke the next day with his name on your lips, a breathy whisper before you opened your bleary eyes and adjusted to the early afternoon light.

You sit up with a groan, the bedside table reading 1:16 pm. A little more sleep would have been ideal, but you took whatever you could get. Most days sleeping past noon was a miracle.

It would be another late shift, and you wondered if he might drop by, but you shook the thought from your mind just as quickly as it was there.

“No! Nope… not doing this.” You said to yourself, getting up from bed to get yourself ready. Just some dude. Just some handsome dude… with pretty eyes…

You had to mentally scold yourself once again before getting into the shower.

-

He didn’t show up that night.

Every time the door swung open, you found your gaze drifting in that direction, hoping he would walk back through and greet you with that broody yet enticing exterior but then as days stretched into a few weeks, you began to wonder if he’d been entirely a figment of your imagination. You felt foolish. It was one small encounter, yet it seemed to mean so much more. Why him? It felt as though in some way he had bewitched you.

Get a grip. He's just some guy… Some handsome, charming, mysterious guy… with a really nice ass. No. No. No. You cut yourself off, going back to check on your tables, making you momentarily forget about Steve, focusing on refilling drinks and taking greasy food orders.

He slipped in as your back was turned, talking to the bartender about some rude ass customer that you had just told off.

“I swear to God, if I see that douche in here again. It's the third time he's hit on me… some assholes just can't take the hint.” You huffed, as Jerry smirked and handed you two mugs of beer.

“Some dicks are like that, I'll make sure the bouncer keeps an eye out for him next time.” the man replies, his head snapping toward the back booth. “Shit, talk about guys that give off creeper vibes.”

Time seemed to slow as those eyes met yours. Those dark orbs flecked with amber shards that you dreamt about. He nodded, taking out a pack of smokes reaching for the ashtray in the middle of the table.

“He gives you the creeps?” You ask incredulously, reluctantly tearing your gaze away to look back at Jerry with a pinch of your brow.

“He's… odd. Been coming in here off and on for a few years. Never orders anything, smokes a couple and then he's gone.” He replies, while wiping down a few glasses.

You look back to Steve and regard him for a moment, his intense stare never leaving you as a cloud of smoke curls upward from his lips upon a heavy exhale, his features momentarily obscured by the cloud of nicotine.

“I dunno Jer, he's got that whole mysterious thing going on but maybe he just enjoys the atmosphere.” You smirk with a snicker, loading the beer onto your tray.

“Ha! In this shithole? That'll be the day.” He laughs, shaking his head and starts to work on some other orders.

Balancing the tray, you take a deep breath and head out onto the floor, navigating the small crowd and dropping off the round of beers, before heading over to where Steve sat.

His cigarette was now smoldering in the ashtray, his hands laced together and sitting on the tabletop as you approached, taking a deep breath to calm your sudden nervousness.

He’s just some guy. You begin to repeat, stepping in front of him.

“Hi stranger.” You greet him with a warm smile. “What’ll it be?”

He returns your smile, with a soft, lopsided one. Cute, you thought.

“Uh, nothing for me, thanks. Just enjoying this cancer stick before I head out.” He replies smoothly, pulling the cigarette back to his lips.

“Head out?” You asked, with an air of disappointment. “But you just got here– Well, I mean…” Your cheeks heat with the sudden slip up as his small grin grows wider, tongue darting out to lick his lips before he spoke once more.

“Keeping tabs on me, are we?” He smirked, a hint of playfulness in his tone.

“What? No.” You scoff. “In case you didn’t know, it’s my job to notice when customers walk in.”

“And talking to your co-worker about me?” He lifted a knowing brow.

“How did you–” Trailing off and looking back to where you had been standing with Jerry, all the way at the other end of the building, at least twenty feet away. How could he have heard that?

“Creeper vibes?” He asks, as your head snaps back to him.

“Hey, I didn’t say that… That was all Jerry.” You defend, placing a hand to your hip.

“I’m only teasing. I am well aware of my mysterious vibes.” He says with a chuckle, letting your tension melt away as his reassurance and light teasing puts you at ease.

“Well, I should at least apologi–”

“No need.” Dismissing the notion with a small wave before taking another cigarette to light.

“Let me buy you a beer?” You ask, voice low and sweet, hoping he would accept. For some reason, you were unwilling to let the conversation end so quickly.

“Don’t drink but thank you. Really.” He replies, lips wrapping around the filter as he takes a drag. His pink, pouty, perfect lips. That you were most definitely, unabashedly staring at.

He wears a knowing grin. “Buy me a pack of smokes. We’ll call it even, yeah?”

“Right.” You clear your throat, backing away. “Yeah! Of course.”

He chuckles to himself, watching as you turn and hurriedly make your way over to the bar.

A while later, you took your break running into the convenience store a few storefronts down to buy him that pack of cigarettes but by the time you made it back he was already gone.

“What the fuck?” You hiss, looking around at seeing his empty seat but this time there was a napkin left behind. A simple promise scrawled in fairly neat handwriting.

Sorry, had to dash. Save it for next time. – Steve

You smiled to yourself, pocketing the pack into your apron before making your next rounds.

_

It would only be a few days until your next encounter, passing him the small white pack with a smile. From that day forward, you began to see him every few days, learning a little more about him each time.

That aloof and mysterious facade quickly started to slip away, revealing a mild mannered, albeit a little broody sweetheart. There was still an air of secrecy around him, which you found all the more appealing adding to his already charming demeanor. Being devastatingly handsome was just an added bonus.

Sometimes he spoke like a true old soul with a friendly piece of advice or a few words of wisdom slipping out with ease in the middle of a conversation.

He never drank, didn't even ask for water, just smoked a couple of cigs in his corner keeping to himself. You'd seen a couple of women and men approach him but he always politely turned them down.

You learned he lived close by and liked to get out and stretch his legs, eventually finding his way down to the bar district each night.

When it came to what he did for a living, he kept it very simple yet vague, only stating that he did the occasional odd job. Whatever the odd job may be, it must have paid well considering the clothing he sported was stylish and always well put together, including his TAG Heuer watch. He looked much too expensive for a grungy, dimly lit place like this. It was a wonder he hadn’t been mugged yet.

He was a night owl, yet so were you, keeping you company most evenings and going out to the alley to join you for your breaks.

“So, where are you from originally?” You finally asked, trying to gain some sense of better understanding of the man before you, eyes shifting over to him expectantly.

“A small town, not too far from here.” He replied, looking toward the ground as he leaned against the wall next to you, knocking the ashes from his half smoked cigarette. Yet another vague response to something that should be easy.

“Why do you always do that?” You huffed a little, shifting on your makeshift stool, putting your hands inside your coat pockets, glaring up at him.

“Do what?” He asked flatly, feigning ignorance to his obvious aloofness.

“I ask a question, and you give a half-assed answer. You do it all the time.”

“Sometimes the answer, it’s… complicated.” Answering thoughtfully, with a sigh, a hand running through his perfectly quaffed hair, not meeting your gaze.

“Complicated? That’s as basic as it gets, I would hate to see you try to come up with something for more intricate questions.” You scoff and stand, taking a few steps toward the building.

He heaves another heavy sigh, dropping the butt and crushing it under his boot, watching as you stop and look back at him.

“Look, if you don’t want to tell me, it’s fine. You’ve obviously got some sort of walls built up to keep people out, so I won’t pry.”

He didn’t expect that, meeting your gaze with soft, tired eyes. There was a small, poignant pause between you, as if this would define a small turning point and for whatever reason, he didn't quite understand he let the truth slip free.

“Hawkins.” He quietly said. “About two hours from here, or at least it used to be.”

“No shit?” You asked, bewildered.

A natural gas explosion from an extensive underground cave system had decimated the sleepy town. Everyone in Indiana knew about the events that reeked of a government cover up and had conspiracy theorists coming out of the woodwork. Luckily, most of the residents had already been evacuated, so most of the damage was isolated to the land and structures. You’d remembered reading about it in some of your history classes.

“Wow, that was in ‘88 or ‘89… wait… how old are you exactly?” Your brows pinched with confusion as you mentally calculated the time frame.

“Yeah, the end of ‘89. And I'm… older than I look.” He shrugged, biting his lip, trying to gauge your expression.

“So… you're fucking with me?” You nod, face falling a bit, crossing your arms over your chest. “You know, it would've been easier just to say literally any BFE town in Indiana, or hell the world. It's not like I'm going to go snoop into your history, Steve.”

His lips part but you hold up a hand, silencing him.

“Nope. I get it. Keep your secrets.” You quickly spin away and leave him standing there crestfallen and a little stunned. It suddenly occurred to you that he wasn't taking anything seriously, so neither should you. It stung a little, but at least you knew where he stood or rather didn't stand.

-

Steve knew he was getting in too deep.

It had been years since he had any sort of meaningful connection with someone, finding himself craving your company. He knew better yet found himself sitting at his usual booth again and again.

He still didn't understand it. No one has ever smelled as divine as you do and he imagined no one ever would. It was maddening, but the more time he spent in your presence he was able to control his impulses, keeping those beastly urges at bay.

Those first few weeks were pure agony. He left the alley in search of a quick meal, finding it a couple of blocks down in a dimly lit parking garage. It warmed his throat but tasted like ash on his tongue, doing little to quench his bloodlust, his mind drifting back to you. To have you so close, yet letting you slip right through his fingers seemed such a waste.

After he'd finished, letting the chap go on his merry way, he wandered back toward that same alley finding it vacant, but your powerful scent lingered. He stayed close by until you were finished with your shift.

Around 2 am, you finally found your way going toward home with Steve close behind. For a moment, it crossed his mind to drag you into the nearest dark corner and feed, but he pushed that thought away. You were something special, that much was obvious, he had to control himself if he wanted to get closer to you.

He silently followed you every night, staying undetected and keeping to the shadows, until his fangs no longer had a mind of their own every time he caught a whiff of your sweet essence. In all these years, he had never felt the need to do so with anyone but the overwhelming urge to have you, to claim you in every way began to slowly overtake his brain. In his mind, you were already his.

Talking about Hawkins brought up a lot of memories he would have much rather forgotten but he didn't think about the logistics, his mouth working faster than his mind when it slipped out.

The look on your face had made his heart ache. An immediate lump formed in his throat at your mere mention of being anything but truthful, suddenly wishing he had lied instead. The real truth of the matter, the town being overrun with creatures from the Upside Down would have been too much for someone to understand.

Of course, it didn't help that he was forever stuck in this twenty-year-old form, now at fifty-seven. Even if he had actually been born closer to the downfall of Hawkins, it would have been a stretch to believe.

The government did come in to cover it up, as far as he knows, they're still covering it up. No one is allowed in. The secure barrier that they created is heavily monitored by the military but somewhere deep in his bones he can still feel it. The influence, the pull that ties him to all manner of creature and beings still beyond his manner of understanding.

He supposed that's why he hadn't managed to go further than Indianapolis. Something tethered him to the Upside Down, a bond that would probably never be severed.

Fall faded as winter quickly approached and the temperatures began to nosedive. There was early snow at the end of November that had turned into a grey frozen sludge on many of the sidewalks making it a literal icy hell. You lost count of how many times you had slipped and fallen already.

Christmas Eve was no different. You made the hazardous trek in but it was still business as usual once you had arrived. The glow of the neon and promise of cheap beer was just too much for some people to ignore, most patrons seemingly unfazed by the wintery tundra just outside the door, self-preservation be damned.

On holidays the bars were usually filled with the lonely and broken, people with no other place to go so they filled their time with a buzz and familiar conversation. No family. No friends. You seemed to fit right in.

Steve hadn’t come back around, and you admittedly missed his presence. His booth remained empty, and it left you feeling a little remorseful at the last conversation. Maybe you were too harsh and quick to judge but then again, why did he lie about the most mundane question.

In those few short weeks, he’d become a staple. Even Jerry had commented that he hadn’t seen the “creeper” in a while. Though “creeper” seemed to now be a more affectionate term, as he saw the way Steve had looked at you, though he kept his commentary to himself after you had seemed so heartbroken the last time he had been here.

The longer the night pressed on, the flow of customers only began to trickle. Midnight left you and Jerry alone with one of the regulars, Jimmy. An older man whose wife died a few years back, so he drowned his sorrows when he could.

You were sitting at the bar, counting your tips when Jerry spoke up.

“Want to go home early? I don’t think anyone else is going to come in tonight. If they do, I can manage.” He says, nonchalantly, wiping down the bar.

“Not like I have anywhere else to be Jer.” Responding nonchalantly. “But if you're trying to run me off I won't object.” Your fingers drift to the back of your apron, untying it and hopping off the stool.

You slipped into the restroom to empty your bladder for the walk home, as if by habit your eyes drifting to that empty booth upon exiting. There was a small red gift bag sitting there.

Looking around, the place was just as you had left it. Jimmy was nursing his drink at the bar and Jerry had his back to you, cleaning up the bottles in the back. You wipe your damp hands down the front of your jeans and begin to make your way over.

Upon further examination the small tag indeed has your name scrawled across it, making your heart leap a little in your chest. You pull the matching red tissue paper up to reveal a small note tucked into the side.

Please accept this small token as gratitude for your time and listening ear.

Merry Christmas, Steve.

You look around again. How had he slipped in and out so quickly?

A black velvet box lay in the bottom of the bag. Your fingers hesitantly wrap around the smooth exterior, before opening it to reveal a diamond tennis bracelet. It sparkled back at you in the neon and low lights. It was breathtaking and assuredly cost more than what you made in a month's time.

You trace the edges in awe, so enraptured that you hadn't heard the footsteps behind you.

“What's that?” Jerry's voice pulls you back to reality.

“Uh, nothing.” You quickly recover, snapping the box closed and shoving it back into the bag awkwardly.

“That didn't look like nothing.” He prodded with a small grin.

“Bye Jerry.” You squeeze past him to head out for the night, with the bag clutched tight to your chest.

“Sure Y/N, have a good night.” He chuckled as you made toward the back.

Later that night you examined the bracelet with a big dopey smile plastered to your face. No one had ever given you something so lavish. Too lavish that wearing it out to work seemed out of place but it was too beautiful not to show off. Jerry never said anything, but he always gave you a knowing smile when he saw the jewelry on your wrist.

-

You hadn't even been able to thank him properly for the bracelet. Steve’s note had been short, not surprising the way you two had left things but you continued wondering if you would see him again or if he would forever keep his distance. It would be weeks before you would finally see him again.

The day before Valentine’s.

A made-up holiday for big corporations to profit off of lovesick saps. Being single for so long had turned you a bit cynical toward love, not that you had meant for it to happen, but you had grown accustomed to the idea of being alone.

The bar was having a big event the next day, so it already looked like cupid had thrown up around the room. Streamers, paper hearts and heart shaped balloons decorated the space.

Jerry chuckled as you grumbled about your shift, thankful you would be off the actual day of, happy not to have to wait on cheery couples or the occasional depressed loner.

Steve’s booth remained relatively empty as if it was always waiting for his return, until tonight. You watched as two men strolled in like they owned the place and quickly took up residence in the back.

“What can I get you two gentlemen?” Asking as you walked up to his booth. A silly notion that he should have such a claim over it. He didn’t own it; hell he never even bought a drink.

“Hi sweet cheeks.” The one to the left of you hummed, tongue licking across his lower lip as his eyes drifted down your legs, even going as far as shifting in his seat to gain a better look. It made your skin crawl. He was pushing every bit of fifty, pudge hanging over his pants and balding.

You had your fair share of sleazeballs, but these two were the big door prize.

“Pitcher of Bud Light,” The younger one spoke up, eyes settling unabashedly on your cleavage. He could have been the other’s son but still had all of his sandy blonde hair. Something in the way he stared at you made your hairs stand on end. It was unsettling the way his eyes lingered, looking you up and down like you were his next meal.

���And sweet cheeks, how about some shots of Jack to go with that.” The older one grinned. “My boy just got home today and we’re celebrating.”

“Coming right up,” you responded cheerfully, dropping your forced smile as soon as you turned away. It was bound to be a long night, and these two were only going to make it worse.

A little while later, you brought their drinks over, careful not to lean too far over the table to give them the wrong idea.

“Here we go. One pitcher of Bud Light, two glasses and two shots of Jack.” You smiled, friendly enough, setting everything out between them. “Anything else for you right now?”

“How about you do a shot with us, huh?” The younger man leaned slightly forward sporting a sardonic grin.

“Sorry, don’t drink on the clock but let me know if I can get you anything else.” You nod and turn to head back out onto the floor.

“Woah, hey, don't leave yet.” He grabs your wrist, halting your movement, causing you to spin back around with an icy glare. He chuckles, but lets you go, holding his hands up in defense but his eyes drift to the bracelet around your wrist.

“Don’t touch me again.” You spit.

“Sorry darlin. Just thought you might want to help me celebrate later. Once you get off…” Pulling his bottom lip between his teeth, his eyes lingering up and down your curves, but the offer is short lived as you scoff.

“I’ll pass.” You shoot back, not bothering to wait for a retort or to watch his all too forced smile turns into a heavy scowl, cussing under his breath, calling you a “fuckin’ bitch” as you walked away.

You were too engrossed in taking orders and gathering drinks to notice them leer at you from the corner, leaving only after one round of drinks. You weren’t shocked to find they had paid exact change, no tip included. Good riddance.

The rest of your shift went smoothly, all but forgetting those two idiots and letting the rest of the night fade away.

You left the warmth of the bar behind around two in the morning, along with the smell of stale beer heading for home, making sure your coat was zipped securely as you began to hum “Can’t Help Falling in Love”, an earworm you couldn’t shake since it had been playing on rotation all night.

“Happy Valentine’s Day…” You murmured, tossing your knit beanie over your head and securely over your ears.

Much to your surprise the flurries had stopped earlier, leaving a clear and quiet night behind. The crusty slush and salt mixture crunches beneath your boots with each step. Once you made it past the main storefronts, it began to turn into that thin sheen of icy danger making you slow down a few beats to make sure you didn't slip.

The strap of your backpack kept falling, making you pause to push it up your shoulder again as you suddenly thought you heard what sounded like footsteps falling in behind in time with your own. You stop, and so do they.

Your breath fogs ahead of you as you swallow thickly around a small lump beginning to form in your throat. Something felt off. You turn to look over your shoulder, seeing nothing but an empty sidewalk in a frozen cityscape. A breath of relief escapes you, spinning back around as you pick up the pace.

It was only another two blocks before you would be back in the warmth and safety of your apartment, suddenly aching for a hot bath and a glass of wine to wind down.

A noise from the darkened alley ahead makes your head snap in the direction it came from. The streetlamp was out, making you feel a strange unease once more. You didn’t stop, looking down the street there was a dumpster but nothing else that seems out of place.

It was sudden, knocking the breath from your lungs as your body crashes to the frozen ground, you gasp harshly as something grabs onto you, quickly pulling you back up to a standing position and dragging you closer to the secluded alleyway.

“St—” You try, still too winded from the initial blow to speak, a raspy sort of squeak escaping you instead, your legs thrashing out in front of you.

Whoever it was didn’t let go, forcing their hand over your mouth to stifle any more noises that escape you as their arm wound around your waist, hauling you up as they continue down the dark alleyway. This is it. You think bitterly.

“Stupid bitch.” They hiss. “I asked nicely earlier, ya’ know.”

It suddenly hit you. The asshole from earlier.

You attempt to scream, finally getting the breath back in your lungs but it comes out too muffled behind his large palm.

“Shut the fuck up!” He grits out, right by your ear, suddenly throwing you up against the metal dumpster. Your head hit hard, knocking you dazed as he let you crumple to the ground with a dark chuckle. “Least I can get a pretty penny for that piece of ice on your arm.”

You reach up, your fingertips are met with a warm, wet patch at your hairline, making your grimace as blood slowly trickles down the side of your face.

It all happened so quickly. One second the idiot was right on top of you, breathing down your neck and then he was being pulled away from you with a forceful tug.

There was a half scream, half screeching noise followed by a gurgling sound that was abruptly cut off as an eerie silence hung in the air. You wince, trying to turn your head to see behind you.

Your eyes squint in the dark, two black silhouettes in the shadows clinging closely to each other, or rather, as your eyes begin to focus, one holding the other up. You watch in silence as the figure in a long, dark coat lets the other go. They fall to the ground with a resounding thud in a limp, unmoving heap as a shiver runs down your spine at the sudden revelation.

You try to move back, but your feet fai you, feeling heavy and lethargic, sending you back into the dumpster beside you with a resounding thud, causing his head to snap toward you.

His eyes. That molten amber glowing brightly in the dark. Those eyes that you had dreamed of, it hadn't been your imagination, only now seeming more like a nightmare as he stares at you.

You gasp, covering your mouth as he takes a step forward, his face finally illuminated just enough to see those handsome features come into view only to be obscured with a splatter of crimson splashed across his alabaster skin.

“Steve?!”

[onstrangerthighs]

A/N: I've got Vampire Steve on the brain, so of course, I just had to do a little something:

🩸 + 🚬

"If you won't turn me, then you're gonna have to give in to temptation. What'd you say my blood was like to you again?"

"Like whiskey and cherries... and the sun."

"The sun??? How the fuck can you smell the sun?"

"You're offering yourself as a lamb to the world's most dangerous predator, and that's the strangest thing you can think of?"

"You know what the blond stereotype is, Harrington. Now, are you gonna start sucking or what? My blood."

"Right. Just blood. Everyone knows you're the real sucker, anyway."

"Never denied it."

Billy's shirt is unbuttoned, and he's tapping his foot impatiently.

Steve sinks his teeth into the surprisingly soft tissue of Billy's supple chest. The blond half-chuckles, half whimpers as Steve starts to suck his blood. Once he's gotten enough, he throws himself against the wall. Billy's heart is still pumping. If Steve could breathe, he'd let out a sigh of relief.

"Are all vamps so dramatic, or is it just you? What, was it not to your liking, Your Highness?"

"I could've killed you if I didn't pull away right then and there, and you're asking if I liked the taste of your blood?"

My human sure is something else. What a pair we make.

"Yeah, I am."

"The best I've had the pleasure of consuming in 100 years."

"Oh."

Steve recognizes that tone. Billy would gladly let him drain his body of every drop. Turning him might not be such a bad idea after all. Then Steve wouldn't have to hold back anymore... or worry about other vampires attempting to take away what's his.

[loveshotzz]

Vampire Steve thoughts?

I have a lot of thoughts about vampire!steve, like how he’d be so devastatingly handsome with such a smooth tongue he hardly has to use hypnosis to get people to do what he wants. sharp features and sharper teeth that intimidate you in the cold moonlight that leaks through your curtains every time he sneaks through your window that you leave unlocked without him having to ask you too. always so easy and so pliant for him when he breathes in deep, cold body on top of yours with the tip of his nose skimming against your juglar, dark eyes rolling in the back of his head from your scent.

yeah, i think a lot about him 😔 so much so that I may have something planned for spooky season 😏

[xzerosparrowx]

Here is another excerpt from my current Steddie Bingo WIP. This is a vampire AU where Steve is the vampire.

-

Three and a half hours later, the session ends much the same way it started: with the kids yelling excitedly at Eddie, standing up from their chairs and going over the highlights of what they just experienced. He likes these kids. Hell, he might even admit that he enjoys hanging out with them every fortnight, which wasn’t something he expected from a shitty little ad at the local library asking for an ‘Experienced Dungeon Master’—the one he took a chance on a year ago. He’s glad he did, because what else would he be doing on a Saturday? Nothing good, Eddie knows that much.

Eddie arrives home, arms full of groceries, out of breath and swearing to lay off the cigarettes as he climbs the three flights of stairs. He fumbles for the key, dropping the bag on the counter carelessly before kicking off his jeans and flopping onto the couch. He revels in the lazy comfort of lying in a warm sun puddle, flipping through channels until he lands on Tom Selleck in his red Ferrari. Eddie lets Magnum P.I. wash over him. He stares at the screen until his eyes feel heavy, thoughts drifting lazily down a slow river—memories of long summer days fishing with Uncle Wayne, of sitting in his small room writing stories and growing calluses on his fingers. It was a simpler time, before Alan went to jail, before the small differences between himself and his classmates widened like a chasm, before he ditched fantasy for drugs to escape himself.

When Eddie wakes, the sun is starting to set. The vegetables he bought but forgot to put in the fridge are already wilting under the heat. He puts on Billie Holiday, her voice softly warbling through the speakers as he pads barefoot around the kitchen, lazily chopping vegetables, harmonizing roughly with her smooth tone. He eats the salad out on the balcony, a bottle of beer opened beside him, feet propped up on the metal railing. He watches the neighboring apartments go about their evening—people bringing in their laundry, watering plants, drinking with friends and family. Eddie hardly feels lonely. He’s content with his solitude, but sometimes, on days where the air smells sweet and the sunlight feels like a familiar blanket, he’ll look at his empty apartment and long for someone to fill the space with laughter, mugs, and quirks; someone to call him to bed, to wrap him in their love.

He shakes himself out of his maudlin fantasies like one shrugs off a heavy coat. Futures like that are for people with happier childhoods, for those who know what a functional couple looks like. Eddie knows he would wear it poorly, like a sweater that’s too tight and scratchy against the skin. He’s too selfish, too greedy for a proper relationship—he’d just take and take and take until there was nothing left. It’s better if he never gets into one.

The sun is gone by the time Eddie finally heads inside, surprised by the way the world sways around him, sweetly drunk on sunlight and four beers. He was supposed to go to bed, to lay on the thin sheets and float into a dreamless sleep, but his eyes catch the glint of silver-foiled lettering on the coffee table.  The little blood-red card beckoning him from the blue dark

Stephen Harrington. All day, Eddie had carefully evaded thoughts of wandering hands and tight shirts, kept his mind present and PG. He turns the card over, surprised by the black ink pressed into the red—Steve Harrington’s handwriting, with a phone number scribbled on the back. Eddie’s stomach swoops at the elegantly slanted numbers. He wonders if Harrington had written the number on all the cards he had on hand or if it was written specifically for him. He squashes that thought with a roll of his eyes, smothering the itchy heat that crawls up his neck. He grabs another beer and sits on the couch, the phone resting in his lap.

Eddie’s self-aware enough to know what Harrington sees in him—it’s the same as all the other buttoned-up Ivy League boys: excitement, danger. Eddie’s got the tattoos, the hair, the rough childhood. An exotic animel for them to parade at parties. Eddie is the dirty, jagged edge of a world that men want to touch without cutting themselves on. 

Adrian is no different. They all love to hover over Eddie’s scars, tracing them with reverence, as if they’re proof of rebellion, strength, and a misspent youth. They kiss his scars and speak in soft tones of safety and understanding, as if their words can somehow ease the rawness of his past—as if Eddie is something broken but worth fixing. But Eddie knows better. He understands that it’s part of his mystique, so he leans into it—the parts of him that are scary, dangerous—and they melt into it with a heated kiss and a charged excitement at seeing him violent.

They will never see his scars for what they really are: dogged survival. 

Yet, Steve Harrington is different, something wild and menacing behind all that polished luxury and privilege. Eddie could feel it at the bar, in the subtle shift of the air, like tension before a storm. Steve moves through the world as if he knows that it will bend to his every demand, looks at Eddie like he wants to consume him. It’s a different kind of fascination that Eddie gets from men like Adrian, and so he feels pulled in by it.

[cowboyhorsegirl]

i need vampire!steve to do some fucknasty shit ASAP

[perceivedregret]

just a (long) snippet of pt 19 of so it goes, my vampire!steve au where blood sucking happens and human!eddie kinda maybe sorta doesn't mind it much. part one and the link to my ao3 in my pinned if youre interested ♡

Steve shifts uncomfortably, feeling heavy, like he’s drugged out on Hawthorne. Since he passed the threshold, something has changed in the air, but he can't figure out what, just knows he would do well to get out of here before he does something stupid. He shakes his head, hopes it'll clear it. It doesn't, so he sighs. “Well, thanks but uh, I should–”

“Do you want a smoke?” Eddie interrupts, his hands procuring a box of cigarettes from his pocket.

The thing is, Steve really shouldn’t stay.

He shouldn’t stay because his gums are starting to ache and he has a migraine behind his eyes beginning to form. He should be getting in his car, he should be driving away, should be getting back to putting as much space as possible between himself and Eddie Munson, the man he’s supposed to hate, the same man he's kissed while sipping his blood.

Except he doesn’t and instead he mutters: “Sure, I could use a smoke.” Eddie grins a languid thing, one that sends a shot of ice down Steve's spine. And with that smile he continues to surprise Steve. He doesn't go out the front door as Steve expected. Instead, he shuts the door and walks past Steve, past the kitchen, and back into a room. Steve follows and comes up short when he realizes this is his room.

Eddie is already lighting his smoke when he turns, catching Steve stuck at the edge of his door. He exhales, smoke spreading across the room.

“Am I supposed to invite you into every room?” he asks, sitting along the edge of his bed, offering Steve a butt from his case. Steve struggles with a breath as he crosses the threshold and takes the offered cig.

“No, no,” Steve says, lowering his head as Eddie offers a light, thanking him silently once the cooling burn of smoke fills his lungs. He exhales, adds to the billow of rising smoke. “I just thought we’d take it outside, or something.”

“Well, I hope 'or something' is good enough. I um." Eddie shifts, moves until he's as close to the edge as he can be without being off his bed, leg bouncing almost erratically. He clears his throat. "I actually wanted to talk to you. To ask you some things," Eddie mumbles. He takes another inhale, exhales in the general direction of Steve. Steve suddenly really regrets agreeing to stay, the smoke doing barely anything to dampen the smell of his blood on his breath.

“What um… sure, what's up?” Steve stutters, nearly fumbling his smoke.

"How did you die?" Eddie asks, relaxing back into his bed, hair sprawled out in a halo around his head.

Steve takes a sharp inhale of smoke as he remembers the night. "A girl named Heather. The same one who turned Chrissy, she uh, snapped my neck. It's her go to move, I guess."

"Is that how..." Eddie doesn't finish it but Steve knows he's talking about Chrissy.

"Yeah."

"Hm. Did it hurt?"

Steve sways his head as he considers how to answer, knows he's really asking for Chrissy. "Kinda, yes? But also, no. It was quick. It's like I went to sleep and had that dream where it feels like you're falling out of bed and suddenly it's like all the air was knocked out of my lungs when I first woke up. After that, the first breath, it's always the hardest when you come back."

"Hardest when you come back after that? What do you mean, do you have to die more than once to turn?"

Steve laughs as he scratches absentmindedly along his cheek. "No no, not to turn, but we can still technically die again after we've changed. I've uhh, had my neck snapped a few times in the past to get, uh, subdued. Hurts like a bitch for second but again, it's over so quick it kinda doesn't matter. We can't die that easily. We can only be killed by fire of the sun, a stake to the chest, decap-" Steve motions towards his head with a click of his teeth, "-or having our hearts ripped out."

Eddie whistles, smoke escaping his lips with the sound. "Ouch."

"Yeah." Steve takes another drag, adding to the fog that surrounds them. "So, what else do you want to know?"

Eddie takes a deep breath and Steve tenses as he says-

“You kissed me and I want to know why.”

A swallow gets caught in Steve’s throat, his mouth suddenly dry as his attention snaps back from the haze that threatens to take him. “What?”

Eddie waves him off. “Okay, ya know what, we can skip that for now. Did you mean to hit me?”

Steve scoffs, taking a step forward. “Of course not.”

“Then why’d you do it?”

“It was an accident,” Steve nearly shouts. “I didn’t mean to, man, but you cornered me.”

Eddie hums, shifting his weight as he seems to build himself up to ask- “Was the kiss also an accident?”

“No.” Steve says it faster than his mind can process the question. No? What do you mean no, Harrington? he thinks to himself. “I mean yes. I mean, I- I don’t know. No?”

“Then why’d you do it?”

Steve balks. “You were bleeding, alright, and I'm a vampire! You were bleeding and it was an accident. You cornered me, okay and well, I– you, you.” Steve snaps his fingers as the first coherent thought forms. “Okay, well, why did you follow me in there to begin with? None of that would have happened if you didn’t go in there.”

“I don’t know,” Eddie mutters quietly, his cigarette already nearing its end.

“What do you mean you don’t know, you’re the entire reason it happened.” Steve’s own cig sits half abandoned between his fingers, his mind and heart racing. Why did I stay? he thinks.

“I don’t know.” Eddie stands up and Steve nearly jumps out of his skin. The air has shifted yet again. He didn’t realize how close in proximity he was to Eddie until he stood and their noses nearly touched. Eddie puts out the butt of his cigarette and takes Steve’s, his officially abandoned.

“What, man, do I scare you?” Eddie muses, a quirk of his lips that makes his dimples show.

“A little,” Steve breathes, surprised by his own honesty. It surprises Eddie as well, if his raised eyebrows are anything to go by. “I mean, no, it's.... I'm not really scared of you, just like. I guess scared of what I can do to you, if that makes sense.”

“Like what,” Eddie breathes, stepping closer, closer again, close enough to crowd Steve’s space. Steve swallows on nothing as he stumbles into a dresser, fingers grasped tightly along the edges of it. Eddie continues to crowd in, until he’s too close. "What are you scared of doing to me?” Eddie murmurs, eyes flashing down once to Steve’s lips.

The air is suffocating.

“You should be the one scared of me,” Steve says quietly, seems to have unconsciously leaned forward because he’s suddenly breathing the same air as Eddie, his scent, his entire being. Ever since he’s had a taste he’s been craving him and right now it's the hardest it's ever been to resist.

Why didn’t I leave, he thinks again. His throat is on fire, burning as the scent of Eddie’s blood fills his head. His thinks about his last drink, which was Eddie, and how sweet and this side of intoxicating it had been.

How Eddie's lips felt while he drank his blood.

“What are you doing,” Steve breathes, Eddie's hands heavy searing brands on his waist.

“I don’t know.” Eddie breathes back, and suddenly he’s kissing Steve Harrington....

read the rest and the start on my ao3

[sidekick-hero]

YES HELLO I’M HERE FOR SOME MORE HUNTER AND PREY. OR FIX IT PART TWO ELECTRIC BOOGALOO. IM NOT PICKY IM JUST EXCITED

MY DEAREST SCHWESTER I LOVE YOU SO MUCH FOR ASKING AFTER HUNTER AND PREY YOU HAVE NO IDEA!!!!

For everyone interested, this is part of a series (hunter and prey) @legitcookie and I are doing about vampire!steve and hunter!eddie not at all inspired by Spike and Buffy.

Steve has no idea what he was thinking, helping a hunter of all people and killing one of his own to do it. Sure, Jason was an asshole, even for a vampire, so good riddance to that piece of shit. But still, if any of the other vampires hear that he's helping hunters now, his life (or non-life) is going to get a whole lot harder.

So why did he do it?

With a deep sigh, he pinches his nose in frustration and closes his eyes, only to open them again with a groan as a pale face with dark, glittering eyes and a cocky smile appears in his mind. What the hell is wrong with him?

Maybe he just needs to go to one of Indy's lesser-known establishments and scratch a few itches. After all, it's been a while. And then he can go back to avoiding the rookie hunter with his clever ideas and non-existent survival instincts.

[runninriot]

@novemberthorne 🙃🖤

[yourfavoritewitchbitch]

Steve Harrington.

The moody, broody vampire that just so happens to be totally obsessed with you.

Happy October! Blurbs coming soon!