#vampire!Steve

[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.

[sidekick-hero]

Grow back your sharpest teeth, you know my desire

(steddie | wc: 548 | explicit | cw: vampire!steve, blood sucking, dub-con | written for @steddiemicrofic's prompt charm)

Vampires are commonly known as vile leeches without souls, morals, or compassion. They know only one emotion: hunger.

At least, it's common knowledge among Eddie's kind, because hunters know things civilians don't. Civilians are little more than sheep waiting to be slaughtered by the big bad wolf. If it were not for people like Eddie.

One particular big bad wolf has been a thorn in his side for months.

It started when Eddie decapitated another creature of the night that had a tendency to attack and kill pretty young girls. Girls like Chrissy, who barely survived because Eddie came to her rescue at the last second.

When he took her home that night, she gave him a gentle kiss on the cheek in thanks before running into her house. Her lips were dry and warm and a hint of her perfume had caught Eddie's nose, so he couldn't really be blamed for his wandering mind.

It had only taken a second, but a second was all it took for someone with superhuman strength and speed to pull him into the woods behind Chrissy's house.

Eddie thought he was fucked.

And he was, just more in a biblical way.

They call it compulsion: a charm that strips a vampire's prey of any free will.

It didn't take much: a look into dark hazel eyes, their red gleam giving them an otherworldly look. A few words spoken in a whiskey-smooth voice, cooing at Eddie as a cold hand ran along his cheeks, down his neck, over his pounding pulse. A sweet smell, like a honey trap, fogging his senses.

It put him under a spell, will-less and pliable for the vampire to do as he pleased. Before Eddie knew what was happening, his hands were clawing at a tree, the bark leaving marks all over his body from the way the vampire's violent thrusts pushed him against the tree again and again and again.

"Aren't you pretty? So eager, so willing to take it. Giving it up for me so easily when you killed one of my kind just minutes ago."

And Eddie? Is sobbing, begging him to stop, only that the words coming out of his mouth are "yes oh God yes please more, harder, fuckfuckfuck, GOD" in an endless litany of profanities and pleas.

And then the vampire bit him, right where neck meets shoulder, and Eddie came with a scream, painting the bark that was still rubbing against his sensitive skin, mixing intense pleasure with pain. He felt himself clenching down on the delicious length inside him, milking it as the vampire milked his veins.

When he pulled out, Eddie felt his spent leak out of his hole, and cold fingers pushed it back in. "Keep it warm for me, darling. I'll put more in next time."

And by God, he did.

Eddie doesn't know how, but the vampire keeps finding him, keeps fucking him, the hold it has on Eddie powerful and unbreakable.

He learns his name is Steve, has moaned that name more times than he can count, but not tonight.

Tonight he's ready.

He lifts the amulet and faces Steve. "This ends here and now, your spell is broken."

Steve smirks. "Oh, baby, it was all you. I never put a spell on you."

[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]

Steve Harrington.

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

Happy October! Blurbs coming soon!

[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 🙃🖤

[loraneldin]

Moodboard for Vampire Steve from Exiles #31&32.

(Canonical Vampire Steve sounded like such a fun concept, but please don't make the same mistake I made and read it. It's not worth it. I also apologize to anyone who recognizes where the Tony panels are from.)

(This is not a place of honor.)

An entry in the SteveTony Games for Team Future and the square shadow.