#vampire Steve Harrington | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

skeltnwrites · 1 month ago

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Tides at Moonrise ☾⁺˖⋆₊

After being attacked by demobats in the Upside Down, Steve experiences some supernatural changes.

vampire!steve, bf!steve, angst, fluff, hurt/comfort / TW season 4 spoilers, vomit, arguing, drinking blood, very minor descriptions of injury and gore, mentions of death and cannibalism, spooky elements 6k

a/n - steve and dustin are such a fun pair to write i miss the iconic duo that they are

── .✦

“Fuck,” Steve croaks, swiping at the thread of spit swaying from his lips. He glowers at his reflection in the toilet bowl, muddied brown from a piece of chocolate but mostly bile. The sting of acid coats the back of his throat and sours the length of his tongue.

It’s been four days, going on five, and he hasn’t been able to keep anything down. You’ve tried toast, soup, crackers, protein shakes, and every other sick food on the list. And now in a desperate attempt, you’ve ruined his favorite candy for him too.

You press a water bottle to his bicep, “Here.”

“No.” His hands tremble where they’re braced against the porcelain rim. “I can’t.”

“Stevie. It’s just water.”

“I will. Just, not yet.” His tone is callous. He’s not mad, at least not at you. A culmination of feelings fester in his chest like a swarm of bees gearing for attack. But he won’t take this out on you. Won’t let himself.

He sinks back on his heels, decidedly finished.

You snake an arm around his middle as if to say it’s okay. You’re both exhausted from a string of sleepless nights. Finding the proper words requires a level of energy you don’t have. He prefers your touch anyway.

The half-hearted embrace lacks the comfort you hope to find. The skin of his bare back is like ice against yours. It’s a foreign sensation, though becoming less and less so each day.

Steve sags into your warmth with the entire brunt of his weight. His strength fades with each passing night, as your worry grows in equal measure.

A finger scratches the coarse gauze plastered to his tummy. It’s still snug, exactly how you fixed it. You only trouble him with changing his bandages if it’s necessary. You’re thankful that the road rash across his back has scabbed over. It’s healing fine, but it’s not pretty. Like a pair of fiery wings hung from his shoulder blades.

You coax Steve back into your shared room. He’s averse but can’t afford a fight.

It’s late morning. Bright enough to project bars of sunlight across your sheets. Steve winces at them, among a number of other things, as he crawls into bed. Even through the glass pane, the sun stings. It’s not unbearable, but an uncomfortable heat, like a sunburn.

You reinforce the makeshift curtain where it’s unfastened itself. It’s a throw blanket you really miss now that you sleep beside a human ice pack. Someone is bringing blackout curtains to cover the blinds. You think it was Mike who offered, but you aren’t really sure. Your brain is fuzzy with fear and fatigue. The last week has tangled itself in your mind like an unraveled spool of thread. The only strand of it you’re focused on is what’ll help Steve.

He seeks your hand when you join him on the mattress. There’s enough indirect light seeping in to highlight the sickly shade he’s become. Signature golden, sun-baked hues have drained from his skin like a bleached photograph. And while he hasn’t eaten or seen the sun in days, it just doesn’t make sense. Nothing about this situation does.

You all have your theories– how this is linked to the Upside Down or a part of Vecna’s plan. But everything circles back to that night. Steve was shredded by demobats and took a chunk out of one with his teeth in revenge. Something about their bites or swallowing their blood did something to Steve. It changed him, right down to his DNA.

Dustin’s tried to present several possibilities from a scientific standpoint. Gene mutations, parasites, cellular regeneration, infections, but there are always holes in his explanations, always things that don’t quite add up. But you’re running out of time. You feel it, Steve feels it, everyone does. He’s grasping at a fraying rope, wilting like a dying flower in your palms.

Steve calls your name like a beacon from your thoughts.

“I can hear how anxious you are,” he says when you face him.

You have to be the strong one right now. You shake your head. “I’m not. It’s okay.”

He softens like melting snow and scoots closer until he’s more on your pillow than his. “Don’t lie. Please.”

“I’m not,” you whisper, not caring that he won’t believe you.

Steve sandwiches your fingers between both of his palms; draws soothing shapes across the marbled green and purple of your knuckles. “I can hear your heartbeat, you know. It’s racing.”

Your first instinct is to call his bluff, then shove away any embarrassment and lock it up in a box deep in your brain until all of this is over. But he’s not lying. He’s a stupendously bad liar. And at this point, he could tell you he has x-ray vision and you wouldn’t be that surprised.

“I can hear the blood pumping through your veins too.”

“Is that… new?”

“No. It was just so chaotic before. I couldn’t focus on it.”

You study his eyes. They’re a shade of brown you never expected to become your favorite. Hooded and half-lidded with the weight of too many things for one person to carry. You try hard to commit them to memory because you’re afraid if they close they may never reopen.

“I’m okay,” he murmurs.

“You’re not.” You blink away the salty sting as fast as it arrives. “You don’t know that.”

“I got it out of my system. I feel fine.”

“Bullshit.”

“It’s not,” he lies.

“It’s bullshit.”

He snaps you a harsh look, seemingly triggered by your tone or choice of words. “Okay– well, shit, babe. What do you suppose we do?”

You sit up, ripping out of his grasp. “I dunno, Steve. Go to the hospital? The fucking government lab people? Literally anyone– we clearly don’t know–”

He scoffs, wrenching himself up with the help of the headboard. “Yeah, because the nurses will totally believe the part about the sentient vines that tried to strangle me. I mean clearly something– fucked, has happened to me. Something they aren’t going to know how to fix!”

“Then the scientists! They might know! They’d have a better clue than us.”

“And where do you suppose we find these scientists who El said were killed with Brenner?”

“I don’t know, Steve! But it’s worth looking! You’re worth getting real help for!”

The yelling is squashed by an even heavier thing that is silence. Steve isn’t sure what to say and neither are you.

This is not the first time you’ve argued since that night. There’s enough stress between the two of you to stretch to the other side of the earth and back. And more than enough fear to turn both of your heads gray. You’re irritable and angry and so desperate for a night of sleep where you aren’t tormented by your loved one’s deaths. And you feel like your best friend in the whole world is walking a tightrope straight into death’s door.

“I am okay,” he promises quietly. “I’ve been through worse. I have.”

“What like getting in fist fights? Getting drugged by Russians? This is different, Steve. Something’s wrong.” Your voice raises and then wavers before breaking completely; like the keystone pulled from an arch, everything crumbles.

Steve gathers you into his arms like you’re made of putty, scooping and pulling like you’ll slip right out of his hold. You inhale a staggered belt of air and choke on a sob into his collarbone. He seals you against his chest, not caring about the scrapes and cuts and bruises; not caring if they reopen and stain the mattress red.

He cradles you for an innominate amount of time until you slacken and your sniffles morph into congested snores. His gaze flickers across your face, tracing the bend of your brows and the seam of your lips. He hates this; having to convince you he’s okay when he’s not. He needs to be stronger, to be there for you as much as you’ve been for him. Steve won’t lose you in this pit his body’s created. He can’t.

ᯓ★

It’s evening when you wake. You can tell because the white glow framing the window has ebbed into orange. There’s a pounding at the base of your skull and a sharper pain, like two barbs behind your eyes. You remember why your eyes are puffy, why you aren’t warm in Steve’s embrace, and why someone’s knocking very loudly on the door all between one shuddery breath. You feel sad but you should be grateful. That’s the longest bout of sleep you’ve had all week.

You tug away from your sleeping boyfriend and steal his water bottle off the nightstand. The static has to be shaken from your legs before you can drag yourself to answer the door. You know it’s Dustin before you open it because he’s the only one who knocks this impatiently.

“Okay, I think I’ve figured it out,” he starts as soon as your face slides into view. “I was looking through my monster manual– and I know what you’re gonna say– this isn’t some game, Dustin,” he mocks your voice in an inarguably awful impression. You’d chastise him if you didn’t have such a killer headache.

He prattles his way into the kitchen beside you while you search for that damn bottle of painkillers. Words are spilling out of Dustin’s mouth like a burst dam. You love him like a brother, and you appreciate him even more for what he’s saying, but you aren't catching a lick of it. The medicine is right where you forgot it beside the tower of dishes in the sink– mostly yours since Steve, well, you know. You take a swig of water and pop three pills.

Dustin stops his spiel to ask, “Should you be taking that many?”

“Yes, unless you want me to bash my head into the wall.”

“Okay, fine. Whatever. As I was saying, if this really is the case, I think Steve’s a vampire!” He beams at you like this is great news; like he said something completely normal.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Steve huffs from the other side of the counter, a blanket strung across his back and bunched in the front like a cloak. He scrubs his nose, either squinting from being woken up or narrowing his eyes at Dustin in irritation, you aren’t sure.

“I’m serious,” Dustin defends.

“I’m going back to bed.”

“Wait, Steve! Let me explain!”

Steve entertains an explanation for one reason only. You told him to. Seven hours of sleep does nothing when you haven’t eaten for as long as he hasn’t. His stomach is twisting itself in knots and frankly, he doesn’t want to spend the last days of his life hearing about characters from Dustin’s nerdy game.

But you both sit and listen and decide his theory actually kind of makes sense this time. Steve won’t admit it and you’re trying to be skeptical– raise all the right questions and find any holes– but your heart lurches at the possibility that you finally have an answer. A cure.

Steve’s aversion to sunlight, his paling complexion, not being able to keep human food down, hearing your goddamn heartbeat– it all clicks. He’s a fucking vampire.

“And vampires need blood!” You shout with Dustin.

“You can’t be serious,” Steve glares at you. “I’m not a vampire.”

“Weirder fucking things have happened here.” Your eyebrows knit together, mind swirling with endless thoughts. “I mean, how did we not consider this? You were bit by a bat!”

“Oh, I dunno, maybe because it’s crazy!”

“Steve!”

He shakes his head in disbelief. You love him so much you’re desperate for anything, even illogical answers. He refuses to play along.

“Will you just try it? See if it works first?” Dustin asks.

“Do you realize what you’re asking me? To drink someone’s blood? Are you out of your mind? Where would we even–”

Dustin cuts him off, shrugging, “I know a place.”

“You know a place?”

“Yeah. I know a place. Don’t question me.”

Steve stares, eyebrows raised.

“It’s pig’s blood, from a farm.”

“Christ, Henderson. I’m not drinking pig’s blood. You psycho.”

“Steve, don’t be like this,” you plead. “How can you know if you don’t try? Maybe you’ll like it?”

“‘Don’t be like this?’ Are you you kidding? I’m not doing it– that’s gross!”

“Okay, okay. What about a steak? Like a really bloody one? Will you compromise?”

Steve makes a funny face. “Fine.”

ᯓ★

“This is not the way to the grocery store,” Steve realizes out loud, heaving himself up in the backseat of his beamer.

It’s overcast and nearly sunset but he’s dressed in long sleeves and brought his blanket-cloak for extra protection. Steve always loved the sun– pool days, barbecues, beach vacations, all of it. Now he can’t enjoy the heat of it from his bedroom without hurting. It’s like a punch to the gut, realizing you may never see his sun-kissed hair or trace his moles by his parent’s pool again.

“Ding. Ding. Ding,” Dustin goads from the passenger seat beside you.

“You guys are assholes. Especially you, Henderson.”

“Wasn’t my idea.”

Steve meets your gaze in the rearview mirror. He supplies his signature Steve pout. But only the tiniest slice of your brain is worried about that. You’re fixated on how bloodshot his eyes are. How deep they sag, even after sleeping as much as he has. You can deal with Steve being mad at you; what you can’t deal with is Steve being dead.

You think he’s starting to come to terms with the plan because he doesn’t argue further. But he really just doesn’t have it in him to bicker. He thinks it’s a stupid idea. He’ll probably throw up, either at the smell or mind game of drinking it or whatever the hell’s wrong with his body. And pigs have all sorts of diseases, don’t they? It very well could make him more sick than he already is.

When you arrive, Steve’s cheek is smushed against the car door. He’s been dozing in reluctant fits for most of the drive.

The farm is fucking creepy, to say the least. It’s not dark yet, but the clouds are drawing shut over the last bit of light. And the long, gravelly path up to the house is freaking you out. This is the kind of place where people in movies get murdered.

“You’re sure this is the right place?” You ask Dustin, shifting the car into park.

“Yes, I’m sure.”

You crane over your seat. Steve’s curled in on himself like an earthworm. The long drive was just a catalyst to knock him out.

He’s been wired at night. You’ve spent hours up with him and the moon, trying any and everything that comes to mind– reading, movies, baths– none of it’s worked so far. But he’s exhausted during the day no matter how much he sleeps. At least the nocturnal-ness makes sense now.

“We can’t leave him in here,” you say.

“Why not?”

“What if he wakes up? Sees he’s in the middle of fucking nowhere by himself? He’ll think we left him.”

“What if he makes a scene in front of the farmer? He’s not exactly on board with this plan.”

You sigh, defeated. You can’t send Dustin alone. If he gets slaughtered, you don’t think you’ll be able to live with yourself. Plus Dustin already called this guy to arrange this and explained the pig’s blood was for a project for film school. Dustin doesn’t exactly look old enough to pass as a college kid so that parts up to you.

“Okay, come on.” You open and click the door shut as gingerly as the car allows.

Dustin isn’t spooked but he is cautious. He scans the pines beyond the house, the truck parked under the sycamore tree, and the underside of the porch. No murderers, yet.

You knock and put on your best film school student face.

A long-bearded man in his seventies at least, cautiously eyes you through the crack of the doorway. “Can I help ya?”

“Hi, we’re here to buy pig’s blood. For a school project,” you say.

“Oh,” he grumbles, setting aside a shotgun before unlatching the slide bolt. “Forgot you was comin’.”

The man ushers you inside. The foyer looks normal enough– framed family photos and wooden side tables and a floral rug. There’s no blood stains or screams or machetes lying around. That’s a good thing. But you can’t shake the uneasy feeling. It follows you through the house like a ghost.

“I sell it by the gallon. Five dollars for one. How many ya need?”

“Uhh. Two?” You glance at Dustin for reassurance.

He frowns and shrugs.

“Alrighty. Let me grab ‘em from the basement.”

The basement? Those are keywords in a scary movie. He probably keeps his victims in the basement. Or worse, his weapons.

“This place is creepy as shit,” Dustin leans over and whisper-yells as soon as the guy’s out of earshot. “We need to get this blood and get the hell out of here!”

You swallow hard and think of Steve alone in the car. He’s not being brutally murdered right now. He’s not running for his life through the cornfield. He’s not–

“Here ya are, kids.” He lugs two dark red jugs onto the kitchen table.

A thought crosses your mind that it’s human blood. How would you know? Are you about to force your boyfriend into cannibalism?

You fumble with your wallet, willing your hands not to shake as you pass him a ten.

“Now where’d ya say you go to school?”

“Bloomington.”

“Purdue.”

You blink stupidly at the man, scrounging your throat for excuses and pulling them up painfully by each word. “He’s going to Purdue– Well, he wants to. When he gets in he’ll go there! I go to Bloomington.” You purse your lips and nod excessively, like that’ll really top off the story's believability.

“Right,” Dustin chuckles nervously.

He cocks an eyebrow, “Well, okay then. Hope yer film goes well.”

“Thanks!”

You yank a gallon off the table and Dustin snatches the other.

Night has officially settled in, and the wooden porch steps creak loudly beneath your weight. For a moment before Dustin reminds you, you forget you left the keys in the car and convince yourself the old man has taken them and you’ve just become the star of the latest blockbuster.

Steve startles awake when Dustin slams his door. He lurches into the back of your seat as you floor it in reverse.

“What! What happened?” He shouts. “Guys, what the hell?”

Dustin releases a dramatic sigh, slumps into his seat, and lays the back of his hand over his forehead. “We almost died, Steve.”

“What!”

Your hands are slick against the steering wheel. You’re still half expecting the farmer to materialize in the middle of the road with an axe.

Steve bends over the center console and shakes your shoulder. “What happened?”

He pulls you back into reality. He’s good at that. Except for before when Dustin convinced you that this was a good idea in the first place.

You describe what happened in a poor attempt at good storytelling and Steve quickly determines that you and Dustin are just a pair of ‘paranoid idiots’.

He perks up on the way back, offering to drive and booting Dustin to the backseat when you agree. Dustin gets dropped off at his house on the way to yours, leaving you, Steve, and two gallons of pig’s blood in your kitchen.

“Should I heat it up, or like, mix it with something?” You ask.

“It was your crazy idea, honey.”

“It was Dustin’s. And I’m asking how you’d like it. You’re the one drinking it.”

“I’d like you to throw it out.”

“Steve.”

“Mhmm?”

“I can put it in a shot glass?”

A wide smile divides his lips; the kind that makes your tummy flip. You ache for it as soon as it fades.

“I hate you,” is said with such affection it can’t mean anything but the opposite.

“I love you too. Seriously, though. How do you want it?”

He takes it raw. Too afraid that combining it with real food will upset his stomach regardless and too afraid heating it up will trick his brain into thinking it’s human blood. You take a small glass from the cabinet and fill it halfway. Enough for a few big sips but not enough to set any absurd expectations either.

Steve gags when you pass him the cup. You can’t blame him. It smells the farthest thing from appetizing. There’s a musky, metallic quality to it, like a box of screws that have been sitting in a garage for ages.

“I can’t do this,” he decides.

“Come on, Stevie. It might help.”

“No. You’re insane. Do you smell that? It’s rancid.”

“It’s not rancid. You tore that bat's throat apart with your teeth. You’re telling me you didn’t taste its blood? At all?”

Steve clicks his tongue. “I don’t remember! It was a heat of the moment thing– not supposed to be my dinner!”

“I can count you down?”

“No, no. Just,” he lines his nose over the cup for another whiff and scrunches his face in disgust. “Give me a minute.”

A minute turns to three which turns to ten. But you can be patient.

“I can try it first,” you offer.

“Absolutely not.”

You don’t insist. You weren't exactly keen on offering in the first place; the smell really is strong.

Without warning, he launches the cup up to his lips and takes several hefty gulps like he’s chugging a beer. And Steve’s determined, he empties it in one attempt, peeling the glass away and leaving a crimson mustache behind. A fist shoots up to stifle a burp and scrub his mouth after.

After dating for so long, you can read Steve like a book; sometimes, you think you know him better than yourself. But this is the first time in a long time, you truly cannot decipher his expression. His lips twitch into a weird satisfied almost-frown and his lashes flutter like hummingbird wings.

“What? How was it?”

“It was… it…” He shakes his head, “I dunno.”

“You don’t know?”

“Yeah, I don’t–” He snags the jug off the counter to pour another glass.

You gawk, open-mouthed and floundering as much as a fish on the shore. “You like it?” You manage to ask.

He takes another few sips, smacking on the aftertaste and analyzing. “I mean it’s… I really hated it at first. And it doesn’t taste good still. But, I don’t know, it’s like filling, I guess.”

“That’s good, right? You don’t feel nauseous?”

“No.” He grins, relief washing over his features. “What the fuck.”

“Dude, you’re a fucking vampire.”

“Does that mean I’m like, immortal and shit.” Steve blinks at his hands like they might grow an extra set of fingers.

You aren’t ready to process that possibility and instead, turn to open the fridge. “Do we have garlic?” You ask. Glasses clink as you card through the side door, retrieving the jar of minced garlic. You pop the lid and shove it under Steve’s nostrils.

He wrenches away at the sudden potency of it. But it’s not repulsive. It’s the same scent he remembers.“Maybe I’d have to eat it?”

“Or it might be a myth?”

“I hope it is. I really like garlic bread.” He licks his lips, fishing for leftovers. “Is it bad if I have another glass?”

Steve drinks half a gallon of pig’s blood like it’s orange juice. And weirdly, it doesn’t gross you out one bit. You’re just grateful to see him smile. To see him digest something and not immediately chuck it up.

After four glasses, he belches accidentally and tumultuously with a groan. A strong hand grips your waist for support, the other propped against the countertop behind him.

“You okay? Are you gonna be sick?”

He shakes his head, pinching his eyes closed.

“Are you sure? What’s wrong?”

“Dizzy,” he mumbles, searching for you in the sliver of vision still there. It’s like somebody’s strapped anchors to his eyelids.

Heat flashes the inside of your body like lightning. Your first thought is poison. Some kind of poison. The farmer poisoned him? No. Drinking that much blood would poison anybody, right? Should you call poison control? Force Steve to throw up? Several trains of thought overlap and intersect into one inescapable explosion of anxiety.

“Here, come here. Come sit.” You encourage Steve’s full weight into your side, underestimating how heavy he is. You stagger sideways, catching yourself on the stovetop with your free hand. On the way to the living room, he rams a shin into the coffee table and nearly takes you both out when you fail to warn him to step over a shoe. He’s easier to manage when he’s shitfaced, you think. Maybe this is like being drunk for him on some level. Blood drunk.

But you make it to the couch; collapse into the cushions with the full force of two adults and pretend it doesn’t hurt when Steve headbutts your chin. Your limbs get organized for optimal comfort– Steve’s legs slung across your lap and his face tucked against your collarbone.

He’s deadweight against you. Awake but just barely. And only fending off sleep for your sake; he can feel how scared you are.

“‘s like a sugar rush,” he says, slow as a drop of honey. “‘m so tired.”

“You feel tired? That’s all? Not sick?” You press a cheek into his crown, combing the untamed mop of bedhead starting at the roots.

There’s an attempt to shake his head but all you feel is a twitch. He hums no and sighs, “Feels good.”

His breath is freezing. You can’t help but shiver. Your fingers rake through his hair. One trails down to linger over his pulse point. It’s steady, not abnormally slow. At least if he is dying, he’ll die content.

Steve isn’t the only person you love. You love the kids like they’re your siblings and some of their parents like they’re your own. But your love for Steve is uniquely distinct. You love him in a way you aren’t sure you could love anyone else. And you can’t lose that. You can’t lose Steve.

He tilts his face up and he unsticks his eyelashes like they’ve been brushed with glue. “Relax.”

You nod, too afraid to rely on your voice. A fingernail scratches the crusted stripe of blood cutting his chin in half. He looks peaceful, for once. “Sleep,” you whisper.

That’s about the easiest thing anyone’s asked him to do all week. He feels as light and full as a balloon, trusting you to tether him to earth if he floats—your arms are a string of safety. He feels okay for the first time since that night. More than okay, even.

Steve staples you against the couch but he’s more of a weighted blanket than a barrier. You have no intention of leaving his side anyway. You’d swear you aren’t tired but you fall asleep anyway.

ᯓ★

It’s warm, uncharacteristically warm. You’re pinned on your side in a tight-knit cocoon of blankets. And you feel great, for once– no headache, no nightmares, nothing of the sort. It’s tempting to go right back to sleep but you begrudgingly open your eyes because this can’t be right. It’s not. You’re alone. Even in the dark, that’s obvious. Steve’s a restless sleeper and more often than not is holding some part of your body for comfort. What’s weirder, you’re in bed. You definitely didn’t fall asleep in bed.

It’s too hot. You miss the unfamiliar cold of Steve’s skin. Where is he?

You shove the layers off your body and sit up, blinking harshly, and swallowing harsher to chase the dryness away. Your feet are flimsy under your weight so you grip the bedpost for balance. You feel brittle as a pie crust, like you’ve been baking under that duvet for years.

For a brief moment, you consider that you actually have woken up from a nightmare. Which parts are real and which parts aren’t, well, that’s hard to distinguish. But that still doesn’t explain Steve’s absence.

You fumble around on the carpet beneath the bed for Steve’s bat. Stack one hand on top of the other, choke it at the base, and always point away– exactly how Steve showed you. You try not to fixate on the blood-rusted nails, but the image of a mangled demobat sticks to the forefront of your memory like a tattoo. You don’t think you’ll ever forget the squeal it made when you struck it.

It’s eerily silent in the hall and just as black as your bedroom. Steve’s not on the couch where you hoped to find him but his keys hang from their rightful home by the door. He wouldn’t leave on foot, right?

You slink into the kitchen and when it also comes up empty, you panic. You check inside a cabinet and then another, but he couldn’t fit inside if he tried. You realize the sink has been emptied and the countertops cleared. But why make the effort to clean it just to leave? Some kind of twisted goodbye favor?

Something frigid skims the bare back of your arm and your heart stops. You lurch forward a few feet before barrelling around, bat outstretched between you and… Steve.

He’s in a fresh pair of pajamas and his hair is slicked back behind his ears. His complexion is dewy, glowing with the moonlight spilling in from the window. He looks alert.

“What the hell! Where the fuck were you?”

Wide eyes comb over you. A warmness has returned to them, a sweetness too. And suddenly you don’t really care about where he was when he tells you, “I was just in the bathroom.”

“With the light off?” You bark, still upset and climbing your way down the defensive fence you put up. Outbursts aren’t limited to just him, you have your reasons, and he knows that. But you know you need to reel yourself in before this turns into something it shouldn’t.

“Yeah,” he says softly. “Did I wake you? I just– hey.”

The bat clinks against the tile where you drop it. You lunge into Steve, interlacing your arms across his shoulders in a fierce hug.

“Hey, hey. What’s wrong?” He spreads each palm across opposite ends of your back.

“I thought– I thought you left or– or you died, or something.” You gasp wetly into his sternum, clinging to him like he might blow away if you breathe too hard.

“I didn’t leave. I’m here. I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere, I promise.”

He shushes and soothes you for a long period before you lean back for a better look at him. “You’re okay?” You blubber.

“Yeah, I feel way better,” he promises. “Are you okay? I’m sorry I scared you.” The pad of his thumb strokes a loop from the end of your brow to the bridge of your nose and back.

“I almost took your head off with that bat.”

He chuckles but it lacks any real amusement; he can’t find a joke through all his concerns. A set of kisses are sewn from your hairline to your chin. “I’m sorry. Are you hungry?”

“It’s like four AM,” you wipe your nose with the flat of your hand.

“So? You’ve been busy taking care of my ass. When was the last time you ate?”

You make a noncommittal noise. You really can’t remember.

“Exactly. Let me make you something. What do you want?”

You let Steve cook for you. He’s happy to return the favor, take care of you for a change. And you’re just happy he’s happy.

All vigor appears to be restored. He stands tall, moves swiftly, and works sprightly, maybe even more so than before. It feels too good to be true. Perhaps you’re dreaming now.

He doesn’t notice he’s cooking with the lights off until you mention it. And he swears they don’t bother him like the sun does when you question him, just another newfound ability that he can see in the dark. But he flicks the light on for you and you find his face is a shade that is much more Steve. Not as golden as before, but not as lifeless, either.

When you get situated at the dining room table under dim lights with a plate full of steaming food, you thank him.

“Don’t thank me. I should be thanking you, dummy.”

You shake your head. Gratitude is not needed. “I missed you.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

Silly apologies aren’t needed either. “Don’t be, please. Nothing you could do.”

“No, I should’ve listened to you, from the start. I hate to admit it, but you and Dustin were right.”

A touch of a smirk finds your lips. He’s so stubborn, you love it as much as you hate it. “We need to call him. Tell him it worked.”

“Inflate his ego some more?”

“Exactly,” you crack into a grin and he watches fondly, despite your mouth full of food. “But seriously, he cares about you, Steve.”

“No, I know. I know. I’ll call him.”

There’s a dip in the conversation. You observe each other like you might never have the chance again. A mutual understanding eclipses any prior tension. You’re both alive and you’re both endlessly grateful.

“We should visit Max. The others too. I’d like to see them.”

You nod, an attempt to self-soothe more than a confirmation of his request. Tears prick your waterline like sand spurs and spill in quicksilver lines down your cheeks before you can stop them.

Steve scoots his chair against yours, shovels you into his lap, and begs you to tell him what’s wrong in one fluid motion.

“I’m just so glad you're okay, Stevie. That’s all.”

“I’m okay,” he assures and he repeats it again and again until you believe it.

His fingers are icicles where they sweep the length of your arm. It’s a stark reminder of what’s changed.

The love of your life, Steve Harrington, is a vampire. The idea is peculiar, sticks out in your thoughts like caution tape. But it presents some sense of consolation too.

Steve’s a vampire. He moves like a mouse and can see in the dark and hears your heartbeat from across the room. Admittedly, you hate that last part a little bit. It’s fucking bizarre and something that’ll take time to get used to; even more for Steve than for you. Most importantly, he’s still sweet on you. Still selfless enough to nurse your wounds before his. Still loving enough to kiss your tears as they fall.

This new phase is just that– a new phase. It brings things to learn and even more things to love about Steve. It’ll take a lot worse to tear you apart.

#vampire steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington angst #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things x reader #skeltnwrites

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myfictionaldreams · 1 year ago

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Day 13: Heartbeat - Vampire!Steddie

Summary: The upside down had changed Steve and Eddie forever but, at least their obsession for you hadn't changed. However, instead of your sweet smiles that they craved to see everyday, it was listening to the thumping of your heartbeat.

Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, fluff, vampires, obsession, heartbeat kink, slight choking, threesome (f/m/m), oral (f receiving), praise kink, biting (vampire), discussion of blood, double penetration, rough sex, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, fucked until nearly passing out, subspace, aftercare

PSA: THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION. There will be some unprepared booty hole play, but that's because the characters are vampires with special abilities. This is not educational so please, if you're inclined to booty play... prep safely beforehand! (not that this is an educational fic but just need to cover myself here)

masterlist 📚

kinktober masterlist😈

AO3 Link

You were exhausted. The kind of exhaustion where your bones ached, and eyes burned even to keep them open, concentrating on the long drive home from work. All you wanted was a nice warm bath and some greasy food to fill your empty stomach, climb into your bed, and disappear into the mountain of blankets for the next two days.

Seeing your home at the end of the street brought you as much joy as a child going into a sweet shop. Parking your car and walking to the front door, your eyes were hardly open now, moving with muscle memory as to where the front steps were and fumbling with your keys to find the lock. The door opens, you stumble in, close the door behind you, and release the pent-up sigh you could feel at the very base of your core.

Before you could even step forward, a solid mass collided with you, forcing you back against the front door, an ice-cold collar around your neck as someone whispered into your ear, “Let me feel it”.

“Eddie, let me shower first”, your voice was high pitched and whiney as you slightly leaned into the body now crowding around you.

The hand around your neck tightened, but not enough to hurt; he adjusted his grip so that his thumb rested on the scar on the side of your neck and the tip of his fingers rested on your carotid artery. The lips against the shell of your ear smiled softly, “Just for a couple of minutes, please”.

As he politely asked, the tension running through your body melted into the floor. “Give me some room then, you giant bat”. The nickname earned you a dusky chuckle as he eased his solid body a step back, but his hand remained around your throat. Trying not to sigh, you gripped the bottom of your shirt, lifting it over your head until your upper body only had your bra remaining. Eddie removed his hand for a second to allow the shirt to be discarded, and then, he dropped to his knees, pressing his ear over your heart.

It was your turn to laugh as your arms wrapped around his head, holding him close as his arms settled around your waist to keep you as close as possible. Your fingers ran through his silky black hair, which, despite its softness, still managed to frizz and seem untamable as it tickled your nostrils.

Eddie hummed in contentment as he leaned against your chest, listening to your heartbeat like it was the only thing that mattered in the world.

“Dude, couldn’t you have just let her get through the door first?” came the exacerbated tone of your other boyfriend. Looking up from the top of Eddie’s head, you found the silhouette of Steve at the end of the corridor, and only now, it dawned on you that you’d not even turned on the hallway light yet. The thought of the brightness of the light had you keeping it off, however, as Steve began to move forward, being purposefully slow on his silent feet not to startle you.

Eddie ignored his boyfriend's chastising voice as he only held you tighter, his fingers now stroking up and down the centre of your spine, helping to soothe any tension that remained from your day at work.

“At least he didn’t come out to the car like last time; he nearly gave me a heart attack”. Eddie smiled against your skin as you recounted the memory from last week.

Steve hummed in agreement, now standing in front of you, his feet spread on the side of where Eddie was kneeling. Raising his arm, he stroked the two areas of your neck that Eddie had when you came through the door, your scar and your artery, and then he rested his hand next to your head against the door beside you. It was an action they both had to do any time you had returned from anywhere, even if it was just the bathroom. To check that their mark was still there on your throat from when they’d both bitten you for the first time and feeling the pulse still thumping in your artery.

Once they were satisfied with this, they could continue, and most days, that was feeling for a pulse elsewhere, which was precisely what Eddie was doing against your chest. Even though they could hear it from across the room with their increased hearing, they enjoyed it a lot more when their ice-cold skin pressed directly over your heart.

You’d theorised many reasons as to why they were so obsessed with your heartbeat. For one, they had both changed and morphed into blood-sucking vampires after their recent time in the Upside Down and being attacked by the Demobats, so thirst and hunger were always priorities and hearing the organ that was the sole focus of their meal, they were obsessed. Then, there were the other reasons why they both adored listening to your heart.

Eddie once admitted that he liked listening to it because he didn’t have one anymore, so when he pressed his face against your chest like he was doing now, he could pretend that it was his own and that all the traumatic experiences over the last year hadn’t occurred. Lastly, they both admitted they thoroughly enjoyed listening to your hheartbeatbecause it was the first thing they would notice would change when you were feeling anything. Whether it was a specific emotion such as anger or joy, your heart rate would increase, or their favourite game of listening to your arousal through your heartbeat.

You didn’t mind any of them for many reasons, especially as it meant that it caused them happiness and, after everything, that's all you wanted from them.

“How was work?” Steve asked casually as he kissed your temple and leaned over Eddie, the two crowding around you against the door. You looked up at Steve, noticing how dark his eyes were even in the shadows.

Lifting your hand, you cupped his cheek, verbally confirming your suspicions, “You’ve eaten! What did you have?”

If their eyes were bright, this was the first sign of their hunger, followed swiftly by them latching to your neck like a parasite, and for once, you were too tired to be fed from today. “A deer, Eddie was kind enough to share today”. The man hummed from his position on your chest but, this time, kissed over your heart before nuzzling back into it, which caused you to shiver at the stark coldness of his skin. “You didn’t answer my question. How was work?” Steve reminded you, tilting your chin up from where you had glanced down at the top of Eddie’s head.

You groaned, allowing your head to fall back against the door, not needing to answer him verbally to show just how lousy work was. “That bad, huh?” Steve confirmed. Nodding your head, your eyes closed momentarily, just needing to feel them both.

Ice cold lips caressed your face, slow, delicate kisses, moving from your ear to the tip of your nose, making you smile and move the hand on Steve’s cheek into his hair, which was just as soft as Eddie’s but at least a bit more tamable.

“Whatever you’re doing, she likes it”, Eddie declares from your chest as he listens to the beating of your heart increase.

“Oh, I know she does”, Steve confidently replies before pecking your lips and causing a moan at the back of your throat. Your cheeks warmed at the conversation they were both having, finding that their being able to read your body so quickly was embarrassing, especially as you couldn’t do the same for them.

“You guys are the worst”, you concluded as your lips moved against Steve’s chin. The man grinned before his hand delved into your hair, gripping it and tilting your face entirely away from his so that your neck was bared for him.

You waited with anticipation as he ever so gently kissed over your scar, which caused your thighs to clench together as arousal bloomed in your core. Eddie chuckled, “She really likes that”.

“You’re both such teases”, you say breathlessly, holding onto them tightly.

“I don’t know what you mean; I want to hear about your day at work, " Eddie says matter-of-factly, turning his head to kiss your bra directly over your nipple. Your back arches with an attempt to feel more of him, but he backs away, pushing Steve back with him until you’re left against the door with no one supporting you and the exhaustion hits you like a tonne of bricks.

You whine pathetically, rubbing your hands over your face, “I’m so fucking tired”, you say, almost wanting to cry. Eddie gives in and is back against you, but this time, he’s lifting you, one arm supporting your back and the other under your knees, giving you the space to wrap both arms around his neck and nuzzle into his jaw. Carrying you upstairs, you were more than grateful when he placed you onto the bed, removed your shoes and socks, and then unbuttoned your jeans.

It was only as he began to kiss from your ankle and up your calf that you tried to wiggle away from him, but as you sat up, Steve sat behind you so your back was flush against his chest. “Eddie, I meant what I said; I need a shower”, you explain whilst pushing on his shoulders, but he didn’t move an inch, and no amount of force would move him from his desired path.

As he reached the inside of your knee, he explained, “Yeah, well, you’ve had a long day at work, and I want to make you feel good, and you know you taste so fucking good no matter what”. You lingered on that word, taste. It could mean many different things to him and Steve; you weren’t sure what you needed more. You were too tired to be fed on, but there were various forms of feeding; there was the kind where it was heated and dangerous from both being hungry with bright eyes. Then there was the type you asked for every day: just a little bite to the scar on your neck, a flick of a tongue against the well of blood from the wound, would send hot sparks between your legs. You weren’t sure what it was; Eddie hypothesised that there was probably some sort of horny venom in their fangs that was only produced when they were aroused, but whatever it was had you feeling more turned on than anything before.

“What did you just think about then? Your hearts racing”, Steve monitors from behind, his eyes peaking over your shoulder to stare at the area of your chest where your heart lives.

“I thought you were too tired”, Eddie mutters as he notices your body relaxing into his touch, legs spreading of their own accord as he begins his mouth journey on the sensitive skin of your inner thighs.

“You’re both insufferable”, you concluded whilst leaning further into Steve, your head resting on his shoulder as his arms circled your waist, both legs on either side of your body as he moved more comfortably behind you, and you were now between him.

“I don’t know what you could mean, Baby; we’re just trying to look after you”. As Steve talks, his fingers ghost up the sides of your ribs, causing a deep shiver to run through your entire body, pebbling your nipples, which were still contained by your bra. Eddie grinned up at Steve as they knew how your body was reacting: breaths becoming more erratic, blood warming your skin, which contrasted with their ice-cold vampire skin and the wetness now gathering in your underwear.

Even in the darkness, you could see the pure joy on his face as he moved closer to your cunt. Obsenly, he pressed his nose into your underwear-covered mound and breathed in deeply, which he liked to do when he wanted the scent to stay in his nose, considering he didn’t need to breathe. Your cheeks were burning at Eddie, a little self-conscious that he’d done this before you could shower, but he always said that he preferred the natural scent of you compared to whatever floral body wash you planned to use.

Eddie groans deeply, his fingers flexing on your thighs as he pushes them back as far as possible, giving him a better angle for your pussy. “Eddie, please don’t destroy-” your words are interrupted by the very noticeable noise of material ripping as his fangs catch the edge of your underwear, tearing them.

“Oops, sorry”, he sounded anything but sorry as he now looked at your cunt, something he could see perfectly with his not human eyesight. Pressing one arm on your abdomen, the other rested over your heart for extra clarity as his tongue licked up the length of your pussy.

You gasped as your head rolled back further against Steve, who in turn was reaching up to hold your throat, dipping his face to follow the journey of his fingers. Each of your hands found a boyfriend’s head, holding Eddie between your legs and nuzzling Steve’s face further against your neck. Your eyes are closed to concentrate on all the sensations going through your body.

They were both rock solid and cold, like two moving statues; even Eddie’s tongue was cold, and only their fangs held any warmth, but this was because of whatever venom dripped from within.

This, right here, is what you needed more than the food, shower and bed. Having the two men who you loved more than anything, despite the difficulties that came with having two monsters in the house, they always knew just what you needed, and right now, you needed to forget about everything from work and relax.

With his tongue, Eddie applied more pressure, parting your folds so he could lather and drink the juices beginning to seep out of your hole. He teased your entrance, circling it before stretching it with the thickness of his tongue, delving it deeper until you were rocking your hips against his face, pushing his nose over your sensitive bundle of nerves at the apex of your thighs. Eddie stayed still, allowing you to fuck yourself on his tongue, getting yourself off as he concentrated on the feeling of your heartbeat from the tip of his tongue inside your cunt, comparing it to the pounding against his hand on your chest.

It beat harder with each passing moment as you exerted yourself with the hip movements and found your arousal getting deeper. Eddie groans roughly, his hips thrusting lazily into the bed to try and find some friction against his raging boner trapped in his jeans. Steve was enjoying it just as much, especially as his cock was rubbing against your back as he, too, counted each beat of your heart.

“Eddie, please don’t stop”, you moaned whilst holding onto his head to the point that it would have been painful to anyone else but him. Eddie smirked but stayed entirely still. He loved seeing this side of you, he’d hardly even touched you, and you were going completely insane on his tongue, fucking yourself as he stayed utterly still like he was your own personal sex toy.

Steve then added to this by licking over the scar on your neck, and it sent a burning jolt of pleasure through your core, causing your cunt to tighten and squeeze Eddie’s tongue as you came with rocking shakes.

“That’s a good girl, just like that, Baby. Keep riding Eddie’s tongue through it; well done,” Steve praised as he remained by your ear, watching and feeling your body tremble through the orgasm.

After a few seconds, you collapsed further into Steve, trying to catch your breath with desperate sucks of air.

“I want you”, came your desperate plead, still holding a grip in both of their hairs.

“Who are you talking to, Sweetheart?” Eddie asked, kissing the inside of your thighs as you tried to calm yourself, feeling the beating against his palm slowly and reducing in intensity.

“Both of you, I want both of you inside of me right now”, you demanded without thinking of the consequences.

“Honey, we need to make sure you’re prepped, okay? Let’s just take this slowly.” Steve began to talk you through the options, but you could also feel him smirking as he spoke, knowing there was a much easier and quicker way for you to get what you wanted.

Turning your head to look at Steve, you could see with a bit more clarity as your eyes adjusted to the darkness. “Just bite me. I don’t want to wait; I want to feel you both now”.

“Are you sure? You said last time that we should probably give yourself a break from-”

“Steve, if you don’t fuck me right now, I’m going to ban you from this house, and Eddie can have all the fun”. Even though your tone was serious, Steve knew you would never do this. Your boyfriends absolutely loved it when you became so aroused that all coherent thoughts disappeared.

“Well, we can’t have that now, can we?” Steve agreed, looking down at Eddie, who was beginning to rise onto his knees and undo the belt of his jeans. You and Steve watched as your boyfriend pushed the offending material with his underwear down his hips and off his long, tattooed legs. Just as his shirt was being pulled over his head, did you rush forward, arms around his neck and mouth on his.

The kiss had to be careful; even though you wanted to be heated and passionate, he had to keep his wits about him because of his sharp fangs. Carefully, he rolled the two of you over, so now Eddie was lying on the bed with you straddling his thighs, his impressive cock twitching against his abdomen. Your lips were still pressed against his as your fingers explored his chest, feeling the fine hair that layered over the top of his chest, covering the few tattoos that he had there.

His hands were now on your waist, feeling your flesh and pulling your hips closer until your cunt was flush against the length of his cock. Your hips automatically bucked at the sensation of his cold shaft. It had taken some adjustment to fuck something so cold, but now, you craved it more than anything else, the coolness making you feel more alive than anything else.

You didn’t want to wait, couldn’t waste another second without feeling his cock inside of you, so reaching down, you aligned the tip with your hole and carefully lowered yourself. Your walls fluttered around his length at both the stretch and the temperature. Eddie groaned, his fingers flexing on your hips, like he wanted to squeeze harder but knew that if he did, his increased strength would accidentally hurt you, so he tried to refrain, even though all he wanted to do was hold you as close as possible and fuck you until sunrise.

Once his cock was pushed as deep as it could go, did you finally lie your body flat against his chest, feeling no heartbeat at all, which had been incredibly unnerving at first, but now you were used to it. Looking over your shoulder, you tried to perk your arse up to Steve, who was now standing beside the bed, completely nude and having moved with unnatural quiet.

“Room for one more”, you say whilst subtly shaking your hips with Eddie’s cock still inside you.

Steve smirked, his eyes so dark they appeared black in the darkness, giving him a haunting look. Still, as his fist wrapped around his cock, pumping it a few times, this only caused your arousal to increase, which in turn, caused your heart to beat harder and Eddie to moan so dramatically he might as well have just cum.

“Hey, big boy, if you keep teasing her like this, she’s going to cum before the fun even begins”, Eddie demanded, looking at Steve was exacerbation.

Steve looked between his two lovers before finally crawling onto the bed and settling behind you. He cupped your arse cheek with a single hand, spreading it slightly to give him a better view of his intended goal. “Are you sure you don’t want me to prep you?” Steve asked for confirmation but already knew your answer.

Titling your head, you exposed the scared side of your neck, “Please just take me, I don’t want to wait”.

“Come here then, Baby”. He helps you to sit back up so that your back is flush against his chest and his mouth is next to the column of your throat. His hand appeared before your face as he demanded, “Spit”.

Lewdly, you spat onto his fingertips, which he then used to lube the tip of his cock before moving it to your puckered asshole. He pressed it enough that it began to stretch the slightest bit but then didn’t move any further as his mouth latched to your neck.

Your entire body was buzzing with anticipation, knowing what feeling was coming next, wanting it so bad that you could have cried.

As Eddie rested his hand over your heart, Steve cradled the other side of your face and bit his fangs into your neck as he fucked his cock into you at an agonisingly slow pace. As his sharp fangs pierced your skin, the juice within them entered your bloodstream, and it was one of the most euphoric feelings you could ever experience. It was almost as if every single nerve on your body was being caressed with arousal, burning with passion, and because of this, every area that hurt or was injured was cured of any wound.

It was probably unhealthy and bad practice, but it meant that when Steve fucked his cock into your asshole without prep, the stinging, tears and pain that would usually come without any sort of preparation would disappear and be replaced but unimaginable pleasure.

The three of you groaned in different tones, Eddie’s being the lowest and yours the highest, as you’re so beautifully stretched, tears lined your eyes. It was similar to having a mini orgasm with how much your walls squeezed around both shafts now situated inside you.

Steve’s mouth was still attached to your mouth as he slowly rotated his hips and took a quick suck of blood to coat his tongue. Aroused, your blood was like sweet nectar for him, like he could taste how you were feeling, which made him feel completely unstoppable, his cock so hard it was like a steel pole inside your ass.

Eddie, in turn, couldn’t believe the sight before him; no matter how many times he did this, he felt so privileged to be able to watch you sandwiched between them, taking both of their cocks at the same time, which was never something you could accomplish before their change to becoming vampires.

Only as Steve pulled away from your neck did Eddie begin to hold your hips and fuck up into you, causing your body to nudge forward and your hands to press against his chest so that you didn’t topple forward.

Where Steve had bitten didn’t bleed due to whatever had been injected into your bloodstream. Still, his mouth now was a dark red colour, including his lips as he kissed you, wanting nothing more than to kiss you deeply and stroke his now warm tongue against yours, but that would mean he’d have to bite you again and too much fun would spoil a good time.

You could smell the blood on his lips, your blood. Not that you cared as your hips began to move up and down, trying to fuck yourself on their lengths, but they soon were holding you still and taking over.

They both moved together, thrusting their hips so both of your holes were filled and empty simultaneously. It took no time for you to orgasm again, your thighs clenching just as hard as your cunt. Your eyes were closed as you savoured every euphoric pulse through your body until it passed, where you promptly collapsed against Eddie's chest.

“Do you want us to stop, Sweetheart?” Eddie asked, worried they would hurt you if they continued, but you tilted your face to look up at him.

Shaking your head, you explained, “Keep going. I don’t want you to stop unless I pass out or tell you to stop”.

Eddie’s eyes widen for a fraction of a section before he kisses your forehead. “Your wish is our command, dear lady”, he joked before wrapping his arms around your shoulders and fucking his hips up once more, causing your body to shiver and a gasp to leave your lips.

The one thing about vampires that they don’t tell you is that they can’t cum. They can feel aroused and feel just as good as any human would, but they would never be able to orgasm or fill you with their seed because their technically dead bodies couldn’t produce any sperm anymore. On the one hand, Eddie missed that part of it so bad, watching your cunt filled with his cum, seeing it drip out, but the rest of it he didn’t mind because it meant that he could fuck for hours and hours without stopping, still feeling just as good, just without the messy clean up at the end.

So on the rare occasion where you were feeling pent up and frustrated like you were today, you would beg them to keep fcking you, sandwiched between them both and free to fuck you for as long as possible. There had been one occasion where you’d cum so many times, your holes gaping and drenched from your juices, that you had simply passed out, something they only realised when your heartbeat began to slow to a gentle melody.

So now, they were slightly more cautious but still didn’t necessarily hold back, and they both held you down and fucked your cunt and ass at the same time. You continued to lie on Eddie’s chest, clinging to his shoulders with your mouth wide open and constantly moaning with every thrust and stroke of their cock.

Each orgasm was just as breathtaking as the next, your thighs becoming soaked with your pussy juices and sweat, which only continued to lube them both on. You’d lost count of the number of orgasms they’d fucked out of you, and it was only as you were becoming to be a little sore and swollen did you finally shake your head, too tired to even speak.

Their thrusts stopped instantly, hands rubbing over your naked spine as they gently eased their cocks out of you. You groaned at the loss but relief from having a moment to relax. You felt like you were high with how many orgasms you’d had like you were floating on a cloud far away.

“You ok, Baby? You still with us?” Steve asked whilst stroking the side of your face carefully. You ignored his question and nuzzled into Eddie's chest, which was answer enough that you felt pretty subby after the fucking and consequently tipped into subspace.

“Alright, my sweet girl, I will carry you into the bathroom. I will give you that bath you wanted; how does that sound?” Eddie ever so gently explained, causing his chest to vibrate with his words, so you tried to bury your face deeper into it. Knowing he wouldn't get a coherent answer from you, Eddie scooped you up into his arms. He padded towards the bathroom, being careful to finally turn on the light, which you quickly flinched arm before he set you down into the bathtub before climbing in behind you.

While still holding you in his arms, he turned the bath water on, deciding it was probably easier to have you in here than in the shower, especially as Steve entered the bathroom with a glass of water and some snacks.

“Baby, I need you to drink this for me.” he gently coaxed your face to turn so that he could get you to drink the water before handing you each chip from the packet into your mouth until he was happy that you’d had some food. “What do you want for dinner? I can make you pasta or something with potatoes. What do you fancy?”

“Anything”, you answer, finally feeling stable enough to talk, blinking gently to try and look up at them both. Steve welcomed you with a soft smile as he used a sponge to wash your back.

“I’ll go and find something to make whilst you stay here with Eddie”. Nodding your head in answer, you watched him stand and exit the bathroom.

Eddie held you close, kissing your temple and snuggling you further into the water to try and keep you warm, as he knew his contrasting body temperature sometimes kept you at a frozen body temp.

“Your heart is beating so loud. Are you ok?” Eddie asks against your head.

Smiling, you answered honestly, “Just happy to be with the two of you”.

#steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steddie x reader #steddie smut #steddie one shot #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #stranger things #mine*#kinktober #kinktober 2023 #vampire steddie #vampire steve harrington #vampire eddie munson

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munsonkitten · 1 year ago

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They say it’s for his own good. Because he’s dangerous. But Steve doesn’t feel any more dangerous than he did before this whole mess. Like, seriously, he could kill literal monsters with nothing more than a bat covered in rusty nails. He doesn’t feel any more dangerous now than he did when he hit Billy Hargrove with a fucking car or when he held back in all the fights he’s ever lost. Because he could kill fucking monsters. He wasn’t gonna find out if he was capable of killing teenage boys too.

He sees Eddie sometimes.

Eddie looks dangerous, but then he always has. Even if he never was. He always had that look to him, with his leather and chains and heavy boots. Dangerous in a good way.

Now he looks bloodthirsty.

Well, ha, Steve thinks. That’s because he is.

Steve is too, but he doesn’t think that’s grounds for imprisonment. He doesn’t think that’s grounds for being held hostage in the newly reopened and renovated Hawkins Lab.

They say it’s because he’s dangerous, but if that’s the case then they should’ve locked him up years ago. They should’ve seen what was wrong with him back when he was that asshole popular kid at Hawkins High.

Every time he sees Eddie these days it’s when they’re being shoved down hallways. They have Eddie in a mask to prevent biting. Some clear plastic thing that shows his snarling face as he’s pushed. His teeth are sharp and pointed, and he has this wild look in his eyes. There’s blood inside the mask more often than not. Whether it’s someone else’s every time, or if it’s Eddie’s, Steve never really knows. A mix of both, most likely.

They make eye contact and Steve tries to tell him they’ll get out of this mess, and Eddie looks back at him like he wants to believe him, but just can’t.

Steve doesn’t blame him. He’s lost track of how long they’ve been here. He stopped counting after six months, after the lines he carved into his wall with a sharp fingernail — talon, really — became too numerous to hide behind the one pin-up girl poster they gave him for good behavior after the second week.

Weird reward, if you ask Steve. The orderly that put it up for him smirked, said something about tissues in the cabinet in the corner of his room, and then left without another word.

Really fucking weird.

The head scientist comes into Steve’s room. Steve can’t remember his name. Matthews or Mathson or… Something. Doesn’t matter. Not like Steve really needs to know. He’s just called The Doctor and that’s that.

“According to our records, today’s a very special day, indeed. Happy birthday, Steven,” he says, looking down at Steve’s chart.

So it’s February fourteenth… But —

“How old am I?” Steve asks.

“Twenty-two,” the doctor answers.

Twenty two… Which means it’s 1988. Steve’s been here over a year and a half, since June ‘86 when they took him in the dead of night. Things had been weird before that. He’d been having cravings, and Eddie came back from the dead, clawed his way out of the Upside Down all by himself. He came back different, but still the same Eddie that Steve had mourned.

Twenty two years old and he doesn’t even remember turning twenty one.

“Since it’s your birthday,” the doctor continues. “We decided you deserve a reward for being so cooperative during your stay. Something you choose yourself, anything you want — within reason, mind you. Don’t ask to get out of here because that won't be happening. But if we can get it for you, it’s yours to keep.”

“Eddie,” Steve blurts out. “I want Eddie. I want him moved into my cell permanently. Get us bunk beds or some shit.”

“Ah, yes, well,” the doctor sighs. “Mr Munson is quite….”

“Dangerous? Insane? I can keep him in check,” Steve says quickly. “Look, we were friends before all of this and now we’re in the same boat. I understand him. If you want to get through to him, do this for me and I can help.”

None of that is true, of course. He’s not gonna make Eddie do shit, and he really doesn’t think he could if he wanted to. He’s wild, a little more monster than Steve is. It probably has something to do with being stuck in the Upside Down after he died. Different, but still Eddie.

Steve doesn’t blame him for the trouble he’s been causing. He’s seen it firsthand only a couple of times, but sometimes his doctors go missing and never come back. Sometimes they’re covered in blood when they come to see him after being with Eddie.

It’s not hard to guess what happens there.

“We’ll try it,” the doctor says. “But I can’t imagine why that’s what you want.”

He writes something down on his clipboard, clicks his pen with a sigh, and stands.

“I will see what we can do.”

And then he‘s gone.

Steve waits two days. Two days where no one comes to see him, to poke him with needles or flash lights in his eyes. He’s delivered his meals through the slot in his door, but that’s all that happens. He drinks the blood they give him. Animal today, he knows. They switch it up on him, and he’s found he can tell the difference easily now. It’s not the same as human, but it does the job.

It keeps him alive. It keeps him from wanting to tear himself limb from limb because of hunger and thirst. There’s still an itch in his throat and a nagging in the back of his mind saying he’s not satisfied, but it’s better than nothing.

On the second day, he’s told to stand against the back wall, and he complies easily. Complying means rewards — it means he doesn’t get hurt. The first few days he was here he was uncooperative and they beat him. It was too much like being in the Russian bunker beneath Starcourt again.

So he stopped fighting back. He stopped spitting and hissing, he stopped trying to sink his teeth into anything he could reach. And in turn he got rewards. He’s given more time outside his room, more time to sit in a room with a rainbow around the walls and a bunch of old children’s toys.

He knows he’s at Hawkins Lab. He can feel it, can feel something in the back of his head that tells him his family is close. His real family — Robin and Nancy and Dustin and everyone else. He knows he’s in Hawkins Lab and he can’t help but wonder if El lived in the same room as him, if she pushed around the same Hot Wheels car he does when he’s bored.

He stands in his room now, and it’s really a cell, but he doesn’t like to call it that, and he watches as two men carry his bed out. Two more come in with bunk beds that look like two of the regular beds welded together — thin metal frames with thin mattresses. Straight out of a prison.

The doctor comes into the room and he’s carrying a box in his arms. Steve can’t see what’s inside it, but he thinks they might be the few personal belongings Eddie has. The box gets set on the bottom bunk. An orderly comes in with a pile of extra blankets and two pillows. Those get set on the beds, too.

They all leave without a word, but Steve knows he won’t be alone for much longer. He knows that they’re going to get Eddie to him, and soon enough, they’re both going to be able to escape. Together.

Steve doesn’t know how long he sits there on the bottom bunk, but it’s a while. He only spares a single glance into the box, and he sees a spare hospital gown, and some clean underwear inside it. There’s a book sitting on top, tattered and splattered with blood. At least Eddie has that, Steve supposes.

The heavy metal door to Steve’s room opens and Eddie is shoved in, snarling and snapping at the guard behind him, holding his hands in shackles behind his back. They have heavy wool mittens on him, his plastic mask covering the bottom half of his face. Steve’s surprised they don’t just put him in a straitjacket and throw him into a padded room.

They make eye contact, Eddie’s formerly chocolate brown eyes now deep red. His hair is pulled back into a ponytail and shows his slightly pointed ears. Steve’s look the same, and his eyes are still mostly brown, but he can see the red swirling around inside them during the few occasions he can look in the mirror.

Eddie sniffs the air through his mask, bares his teeth. Steve can see the blood in his mouth through the clear plastic.

Maybe this wasn’t a good idea. What if Eddie hurts him too? What if he’s… What if he’s not Eddie anymore? If the last bits of his humanity have drained out of him, if he’s been forced to let the monster inside take full control… Steve doesn’t know what he’ll do.

I’d let the monster take me, too, he thinks, and then immediately regrets it. He doesn’t want to be that, and in his head he’s holding a snarling beast back with wrought iron bars, in a cell not too different from the one his physical body stands in. He’s gotten this far. It would be a waste to not even try.

The guard leaves Eddie where he stands, still cuffed, and backs away to the door. He slams it shut and locks it, then slides open the food slot. Eddie growls, jerks at his cuffs, trying to get free.

“Munson!” the guard barks. “Back up against the door.”

Eddie backs up until he’s against the door and Steve hears the key unlocking the cuffs around Eddie’s wrists.

The mittens come off next, and both things get pulled through the slot. The guard quickly slides it shut. Eddie is free from his restraints, and now he and Steve are alone.

Read more on AO3

#this is the first chapter so go on to chapter 2 #steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #vampire steddie #vampires #my fics #eddie munson #vampire eddie munson #vampire steve harrington

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bettyfrommars · 1 year ago

Text

don't say you need me (it's understood)

vampire!steve x deliveryDriver!fem!reader

summary: you are a delivery driver who gets extra hazard pay to bring blood to the vampires of Crimson Alley, but this time, you get up the nerve to ask Steve for something you have always wanted. This story has a surprise ending and an appearance from vampire!eddie. Steve is not a typical vampire. Slightly True Blood au. wc:6.3k

18+ONLY, mature themes, Steve is a vampire but he is also something else, reader's first time feeding a vampire, smut, drinking blood, sensitive!steve, lovesick!steve, monsterfucking, doordash delivery for vampires, oral for all, reader wears a sportsbra, unprotected p in v, creampie, self-inflicted knife wound.

author's note: I've had this one in my wip's for a while, and it was going to drive me crazy if I didn't finish it. My Steve fics rarely see the light of day, but I can't stop writing them for some reason. This is my last little detour before I go back to working on my other series. Or, until I get distracted again, which will probably be in two minutes.

Part 2 smut extra Wolf Moon

Part 3 fluff request

The way you earned money lately was not your dream job, but it paid the bills. Food delivery was a necessary evil with your life being as chaotic as it was. The particular app you worked for paid better than the rest because of the “hazard pay” you accrued for some of the deliveries that required more “risk”.

The risk in question had you delivering blood to the local vampire population, most of which lived in a particular section of the city called Crimson Alley. It wasn’t just an alley; there were apartment buildings and a long street full of picket fence houses, all with heavy, black out curtains over them during the day.

One minute, you’re leaving tofu Pad Thai on someone’s doorstep, and the next—-you’re casually dropping off a grocery bag full of type O.

It was dark, of course, when you made your final delivery before clocking out. You took on as many deliveries to Crimson Alley as the app would allow, mostly because you needed the money, but also—you weren’t afraid of death.

Most of the vampire clients who signed up for deliveries on the app were decent, law abiding ghouls, but there had been two noted incidents where the vampire in question only wanted a live human to feed on, and ended up draining the delivery driver before disappearing into the night.

You told yourself they were just rumors, but also, you spent quite a bit of time ruminating on what the sensation of fangs breaking your skin would feel like.

The receipt stapled to the front of the paper bag from the blood bank said Harrington, and you matched it with the information on your phone before making your way up the sidewalk. It was an old, vintage building with renovated apartments inside, and so you punched in the alarm code from the notes in your phone, waited for the beep, and then made your way up to C5.

Two female vampires were just leaving as you stepped into the foyer, and they seemed to be dressed for a night on the town. You jumped back to make room for them, and they excused themselves with a laugh and a wave, fangs exposed, as if they were any other living humans going out for drinks. That was the great thing about vampire specific blood banks and the recently invented blood substitutes; fed vampires, for the most part, were happy vampires. Sure, there were those who still lusted after the chase and the thrill of the kill, but most of the newer vampires were surprisingly chill.

The customer requested that you hand the delivery directly to them, which meant you had to knock instead of just dropping it at the door and bolting.

But, as your finger rose to touch the doorbell, the door opened, yanking back into the apartment so fast, and you scrambled back, startled, testing the handle of the bag with your vise grip.

“Oh, shit, sorry,” the vampire said, smiling around his fangs, wearing Wayfarer sunglasses even though it was dark outside. “I didn’t mean to scare you, my bad.”

“You didn’t scare me,” you stiffened, shaking your head, hoping that was the correct answer, since the customer is always right.

In the next few heartbeats, the two of you looked over each other. Your vampire customer had a full head of lush, dark hair, just long enough to tuck behind his ears, and a solid, muscular frame. He had on a white shirt that was of little contrast to his pale skin, rolled up to the elbows and unbuttoned to expose a swatch of chest hair, black pants that made it look like he was getting ready to go somewhere fancy, and a pinky ring with what looked like a skull on it. He smelled like sandalwood and vanilla tobacco, and your mouth produced an overabundance of saliva that made you swallow and choke a bit.

Steve liked what he saw so much that he didn’t want to remove his sunglasses, so that he could continue to look you over without you seeing his eyes move. But, eventually, he did, sliding them up on top of his head, clearing his throat.

“Harrington,” he said, leaning against the door frame, forgetting why he was about to leave the apartment in the first place. “That’s me, I’m Steve.”

You introduced yourself, and then lifted the bag up in the space between the two of you. “Would you like me to set this by the door, or—?”

“Oh, damn, yeah, of course,” he chuckled fondly to himself, as if remembering a private joke. “I can—yeah, sure, here—I’ll take it.”

You passed it off and he opened it to look inside as if he didn’t know what he’d ordered.

“Alright,” you backed up, offering a low wave. “I guess I’ll be going,then? As long as everything looks okay.”

“Sure,” Steve said, uncertain, still staring into the bag. You turned on your heel to head for the stairs. “But, wait—” he called after you.

You spun around to face him, rubbing your lips together, wondering if you were crazy, or if the vampire was trying to flirt with you.

Steve held the bag with one hand and let it fall to his side while his other hand shoved into his front pocket, smirking at you in a way that screamed trouble. “Would you like to meet up later? After your shift? For a drink, or something?”

Or something.

This wasn’t a good idea, you told yourself, as you turned around to accept his invitation.

“I’m free right now,” you told him.

—-------

Steve didn’t have a plan; he just knew he didn’t want you to go.

“Were you about to leave?” You asked, gesturing to his outfit as you accepted his invitation inside the apartment.

“Nowhere…special,” Steve looked you up and down again, forgetting that his sunglasses weren’t covering his eyes. He was about to go and meet up with his friend Eddie, but he’d shoot him a text real quick and let him know he got “caught up”. Eddie had canceled on him at the last minute more times than he could count, so his conscience was clear.

Steve had eclectic taste, and the first thing you noticed was the Depeche Mode poster on the wall, along with some original art, oil abstracts, and there was a retro sense to the place: a boombox from the 80’s, a panasonic tv/vcr combo on a stand in the corner and a 1960’s wicker rattan chair with a big, dark blue cushion. He had a large collection of vinyl in vintage, wood apple crates stacked up the wall, and a yellow kitchen table set that looked like it was right out of the 1950’s.

You turned to ask him a question, but he was right there on your heels, and your chests pressed into each other, your noses almost bumping, and that was when you took a closer look at his fangs. They weren’t long, obnoxious fangs like in the movies, and could almost pass for normal, albeit extra sharp incisors, but for the way they extended down further than the rest of his perfect teeth.

“Do you ever accidentally—” you motioned to your own tooth, tapping it.

“Bite my own lip? All the time,” he gave a snort. “My tongue too, and it fucking sucks.”

He offered you a beverage and you were surprised to find out he had human food there.

“I have several human friends. I cook for them sometimes too,” he assured you from the kitchen which was around the corner. He carried the grocery bag of blood in to pour some out for himself, and then you heard the top pop off a beer. But then he peeked his head around the corner, raising his eyebrows at you. “Did you think all vampires were hermits that just hung out with each other in a cave somewhere? Like in The Lost Boys?”

You put your hands in your back pockets and went over to take a closer look at the bat with nail spikes through it that was mounted like a trophy above his stereo system. He came out carrying a wine glass full of a deep claret liquid, and handed you the beer, gesturing to the futon with his elbow.

He’d only known you for a few minutes and he already wanted to kiss you. He could see the heartbeat in your throat from where he sat, and he wanted to take a sip from your lifeforce and then kiss you with his bloody lips, smearing it down your chin. He couldn’t smell any other man or partner on you, but he also couldn’t let you walk out and be with someone else; he was actively attaching to the scent of your blood, and if you stayed any longer, he’d have to do something about it.

You took a few gulps of your beer, thinking that if you didn’t make you move, you’d lose your nerve. A chance to be consensually bitten by a vampire did not come around as often as people would think. Especially for the modern vamps of today who’d been following a set of rules for decades. Most vampires had specific humans they “bonded” with, be it a familiar or a partner, or they ingested a specific type from the blood bank or blood substitute. Vampires were very finicky creatures, and the blood had to taste good in order for them to want to ingest it. The way it tasted had to do with a certain mix of hormones and chemistry, you really had no clue.

After a bit of small talk about where you came from, and how long Steve had been a vampire—he was turned in 1996 by an ex he didn’t want to talk about—you set your empty beer down on the rectangular wood coffee table and sat back.

“So,” you bobbed your head a few times. “Here we are.”

“Yes,” he inclined his glass to you, taking the last sip of his Type O claret. “Cheers to us.”

And then, there was silence, but for the sound of people chatting out in the hall, the low hum of the Depeche Mode song It’s no Good, and your heartbeat in your ears.

But then, you just blurted it out, and Steve started to talk at the same time.

“How would you feel if I asked you to—”

“I have to confess that I—”

You licked your lips. “You go first,” you said on a nervous exhale, fiddling with the arm of the futon.

“No, you—please,” Steve sank down and rested his head on the back of the cushion, his gaze lingering on you in a way that made your cheeks hot. You couldn’t help but notice the bulge in his pants was abnormally large even though it wasn’t even erect.

This was crazy, what were you even doing in his apartment? Your friends would be screaming obscenities at you if they knew, telling you to pull out your colloidal silver mace spray and run. But yet, all of your blood seemed to be tickling at the surface of your skin, wanting to escape.

You turned in your seat and Steve’s eyes followed your movements, watching how you bent your knee up and scooted towards him..

“Here’s the thing,” you cleared your throat, finding your words. “I’ve never been bitten before, by, you know, a vampire, but I’d really love to know what it feels like. I fantasize about it, sometimes.”

In an unexpected turn of events, Steve abruptly got to his feet, mumbling, “not another one,” as he put his back to you and rolled his head from side to side, walking away.

“Wait,” you stood up too. “What do you mean, ‘not another one’? Do delivery drivers normally show up here asking you to bite them?”

When he faced you, his eyes were full of weary disappointment. “I’m not turning you, okay? I will never turn anyone as long as I exist,” and then he rounded the corner into the kitchen and you heard the wine glass drop into the sink.

“Hold on,” you followed, coming up behind him as he bent forward to brace his hands on the countertop. He appeared so suddenly distraught, your hand hovered at his lower back for a while, wondering if you should touch him, and then you finally did—feeling his cold skin through his shirt like winter marble.

You made a few comforting circles with your palm, and he let you, secretly closing his eyes at the soothing nature of your touch.

“Hey,” you whispered. “I don’t want to be a vampire. And even if I did, I would never want to put that on you, a complete stranger.”

This admission made him stand, and you watched the way the ends of his hair caught on the collar of his shirt, shoulder blades flexing under the material.

You rested your hip by the sink, eyeing his back muscles. “I’m kind of embarrassed now, that I admitted that to you,” you laughed a little then, at yourself, at the situation, looking down at your nails. Could you have fucked this up any harder?

You barely had time to register that he had turned around and was coming toward you, it all happened in a human blink. But then he had your back pressed flush against the wall by the fridge, one hand cupped your throat while the other pinned your hip. It knocked the air out of you, but it also turned you on, and he returned your stare with a flicker of uncertainty. Silky brown eyes that seemed to go ink black as the pupils expanded.

He brought his cheek down, rubbing it against yours, inhaling the scent of your hair, his words a tight whisper at your ear. “Why do you want me to hurt you?”

“I-I don’t want that,” you stammered, knees wobbling as he sniffed along the side of your face and down your neck; his skin was cold and it made your nipples hard. “I just want to know what it feels like to be…needed like that.”

Steve snapped his head up to look at you; brows clenched, cherry lips parted. The urge to taste you, to feast on you, had him questioning almost a decade of sobriety from using his fangs to feed. His teeth ached, his stomach growled. The light in the kitchen was on, and aside from a lamp in the living room and the street lights from outside, the rest of the apartment was dark.

Steve nudged your nose with his; lips an inch or two away from yours. “Maybe…just a taste.”

You lifted your chin to kiss his pouty lips, but he pulled back. “We can’t do that, though. We can’t kiss.”

You searched his eyes, confused.

Steve released your throat, and the tension of the moment subsided. “It’s too…intimate. I can’t risk an attachment to a complete stranger.” You could tell he was using your words against you, and you wondered why that description bothered him so much. You were both, indeed, strangers, and you didn't know how else to categorize him.

“I want it to be a good experience, though,” he hushed, taking your hand, guiding you back out to the living room. “It’s the least I can do.”

He told you to wait there while he got a towel from the closet; he didn’t want blood on his new futon. If only you knew how many offers like this he’d turned down in his life; if only you knew how nervous he was to break this seal with you.

“Should I lay down or sit up?” You asked. Your mind was having a hard time registering that this was actually happening.

Steve came back and plopped down onto the squishy futon. His shirt was off, and your eyes locked on the patch of chest hair over his milk white skin. “It’s less messy this way,” he gestured to his bare chest, and then he raised an eyebrow, his face serious. “Are you comfortable straddling my lap?”

“Facing you?”

Steve dropped his shoulders, giving you a look, and then he patted the cushion on either side of him.

You were about to drop your knee down to do as he suggested.

“Oh wait,” he stopped you, giving you an open, earnest expression. “Do you want to take your shirt off? It might get blood on it. It’s been a while since I’ve done this.”

You looked down at your shirt. It was a vintage concert tee, and you didn’t want to risk it. “Um, yeah, okay,” you had a sports bra on underneath, so this was fine.

Steve watched you remove your shirt with a hitch in his chest, but then looked down when you finished and tossed it over the chair.

You climbed on top of him, bracing your hands on his shoulders. “You’re so cold,” you observed. “You make me want to get you a blanket.”

“You’re all the warmth I need,” he muttered, shifting as your core settled above his cock, his hands tentative at your hips.

“Listen, it’s probably going to sting, or hurt, even,” he coached, watching the plump artery in your throat. “But once I start drinking, your endorphins take over and it should feel…good, in a way.”

You nodded, pushing your shoulders back.

“Now, come forward,” he continued, pulling you close so that the two of you were skin on skin, his fingers spread out on your back. “And tilt your head to the side, just like that.”

Steve’s mouth watered as he took in the sight of your neck so exposed to him, like an offering. It reminded him of way back when he used to confuse the gift of blood as a form of love. Back when he was naive and bursting with wet dreams about a home and a family and one love forever.

A few seconds passed and your chin rested on the cool muscles of his shoulder. You could feel his breath on your skin, tingly like wintermint gum.

“Should I count down?” He asked.

“No, I’m fine,” you returned with an edge of irritation. “Whenever you’re ready.”

You adjusted yourself in his lap and it made his cock throb, and now he was nervous that you could tell how aroused he was. It’s been a while since he drank from someone he wasn’t in love with, and his cock assumed it was its turn to get involved too.

You felt his lips tremble on your flesh as he brushed over the spot.

“Okay, here we go,” he mumbled. Steve’s stomach growled again as he made “O” with his mouth over your big, thumping artery, swiping his tongue a few times over your salty barrier.

But then his teeth broke the surface, making you choke and clutch his arm.

It did hurt, in the same way thorns from a rose bush hurt, and your adrenaline surged, preparing your body for fight or flight, but Steve’s arms were strong, and now they had you caged in a vice grip.

The sweet hesitancy of consent was gone now that he knew the honey nectar in your veins.

Now, his animal urges made him growl as he drank from you; whimpering, even, when he felt you ease into it, shifting to be closer to him.

There were only a few seconds of that sharp pain, but then as he sucked, you felt your pussy flutter and bloom—a reaction that you had not expected. You closed your eyes, vibrating, leaning into each pull, turned on more and more by his wanton need for you. A trickle of blood trailed down along your breast and it made your skin raise with gooseflesh.

Steve jerked his mouth away with a gasp after about a minute, breathless. He looked at the dripping fang marks in your neck, and then, without thinking, he kissed you there. He released his double arm lock on you and held your upper arms, his forehead dropping to your shoulder.

“Fuck,” be breathed. “That was so good.”

“You can have…more,” you whispered, keeping your head tilted to the side.

Steve swallowed hard: the temptation was real. “I can’t,” he managed. “I’m afraid I’ll take too much.”

You wanted to cry out in disappointment, to beg for more. But then, Steve picked up the towel and started wiping you off. He pricked his finger to heal the fang holes with his blood and you felt a sizzle as they closed up and vanished.

You couldn’t look at him right away, but when you finally did—you saw the trickles of your life force in the corners of his mouth and the strawberry wine tinted hue of his lips. His cinnamon brown eyes that had somehow turned hazel Your need was too great, and before you could stop yourself, you were leaning forward to flick your tongue out to taste the evidence of his feast.

Steve turned his head and that was when you remembered the rule: no kissing. He was the Julia Roberts Pretty Woman version of vampires.

But a twitch of his cock against your inner thigh from inside his jeans betrayed him.

“Oh, fuck it,” he hissed, acquiescing to his own desires, holding the back of your head to find your mouth. He kissed you deep, without any hesitation. It was innocent and urgent, like a man who had been starving in many different ways for a long time.

The taste of your blood in his mouth had your eyes rolling back in your head. There was something about the closeness of it; the way he received nourishment from you. You wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him back, not paying any attention to the way your hips were grinding into him.

“Wait,” there was a smacking noise as Steve pulled his mouth away. He ran the back of his fingers down your cheek. “Do you want this? Do you want…me?”

Your lips throbbed and felt bruised, and you nodded, unable to form words.

Steve would regret this the next day, he knew he would. He wasn’t one of those people who could do casual intimacy like Eddie and Argyle. He wondered if he was hypnotized by your blood, wondered if maybe he’d see clearer in the morning. But right then, he didn’t care.

You crossed your arms over yourself and pulled your sports bra off, watching Steve’s breath catch at the sight of your nipples. He took one in his mouth, swirling his tongue, moaning as he did so, and you flexed your hips against him. His sucking popped off as your mouth went to his neck; you didn’t kiss him, you just planted your lips there and said:

“I love knowing my blood is inside of you.”

And for some reason—that was it for Steve.

He gasped, clamping his hands onto your thighs, locking you in place. “Wait…fuck…oh shit—”

You felt him tremble and arch his pelvis up, his hips stuttered, and then his head dropped to your arm with a strangled cry.

“Hold on…did you just?”

“I’m afraid so,” Steve admitted with a tight, aggravated sigh. “Excuse me while I—”

He motioned for you to move out of his lap, but you stayed there, lowering your head to find his eyes. “Can I clean you up?”

Steve shifted, feeling embarrassed and a little uncomfortable, about to decline your offer, but then you were sliding down between his legs, pushing them wider with your shoulders. Your attention went to unbuckling his belt and zipper, but then your eyes flicked up to meet him, hovering there.

“What are you doing?” He asked softly, lifting his hips when you needed to scoot his jeans and red boxers down. You saw the wet spot where his tip had exploded and the dark hair around the base of his cock. You grabbed onto his length to bring it out of hiding and Steve shivered.

“You don’t have to—” but your lips were already on the fat, sticky tip, licking down the vein and the excess that dribbled down his shaft. His cum didn’t really have a taste—it reminded you of something with a clear flavor, like glycerine. He was semi-hard now; caught between being done and getting excited again. He threw his head back onto the couch, exposing his throat to the ceiling, Adam’s apple jerking as he swallowed back a whimper.

His hips bucked up when you took the tip to the back of your throat, and Steve’s fingers dug into the couch, wondering if he should touch you. “Do you like the way I taste?” He asked in a hush.

You nodded, meeting his gaze again, kissing the head of his cock. “I want more.”

Steve leaned down to grab your face with both hands and coaxed you back up into his lap for another depraved kiss; moaning into each dive of your tongue.

“It’s my turn,” he said with a crooked grin, rubbing his nose on yours, and then he flipped you over with surprising strength. You pushed your jeans down as he pulled them, yanking the denim all the way off your feet. They landed inside out in a crumpled pile nearby. He kissed down your breasts, your stomach, flicking his devilish tongue along the soft curve of your hip.

Your legs stretched out to meet the width of his strong shoulders, cursing when his tongue licked a stripe up and down your slit a few times. When his mouth pulled away, there was a string of saliva connecting you to his chin, and he found your eyes before he moved to taste you again.

He lifted your thighs up off the couch—god, he was so strong—and licked down even further, until his tongue fluttered at your tight muscle back there, making both holes clench. Your torso was almost bent in half when he looked up at you over your pussy. “Do you like that?”

“Don’t stop Steve, please,” you gushed.

He took that as a yes, smiling to himself, continuing to work you over in that spot.

He lowered you and moved up to suck your clit and sank two fingers in a little too fast, making you tighten up for a moment. “Shit, your fingers are so big.”

He made a guttural growl, staring at the way his fingers stretched you, and it sounded so unlike the noises he made thus far, it made your eyes snap open.

“More,” you gasped, taking his head in your hands. Your fingers threaded through his hair that was a bit crunchy from styling product.

He slipped a third finger in and your cunt pulsed around him, making his cock get stiff and leaky again. “Fuck, you’re going to take my cock so good.”

The throb of the artery in your inner thigh caught his attention and so—that was all he could think about.

His fingers went in to the last knuckle, and twisted them a few times.

Your jaw went slack with a moan. You watched his mouth lift off an inch so that he could stare at the spot just below the curve of your hip. You could almost hear his thoughts, they were so loud, and the thought of him feeding on you again made your cunt tighten like a fist.

“Fuck, Steve, please do it,” you whined, squirming. “Take more of my blood.”

Steve felt like a man out of control. Like the vehicle had already flown off the cliff, but he was still trying to work the break and steer. There was no hope for him now—he might as well release his grip on the wheel.

His fingers curled up inside you as his fangs nipped at your tender flesh, toying with you. When his his sharp teeth finally sank in, he didn’t give a shit about staining the couch or his clothes—he didn’t care if you could tell how much he fucking loved this.

When his mouth locked onto you, your pussy clenched around his fingers, and you were whimpering, clutching the back of his head, encouraging him, “moremoremore.”

Steve had to push himself off of you with all of his strength, sending the couch sliding back a few inches with you on it, knocking over a table and a lamp that went crashing to the ground. Your flesh was still leaking as he stumbled back, breathing quick and heavy, mouth and chin wet from his meal. His jeans were still down his hips a bit and his cock curved angry and sticky against his belly.

“Cover it,” he braced his hands behind him on the carpet, gesturing to your inner thigh, but you weren’t quick enough. “Cover it now!” He barked, wincing, baring his teeth.

You reached over for the towel and did as he asked, wrapping it around your thigh, securing it with your hand, watching whatever struggle he seemed to be having with himself. It looked almost as if Steve was…changing? The hair on his chest and arms seemed to grow thicker right before your eyes and his jaw muscles strained as if making room for more teeth.

Once he caught his breath, his eyes locked on your cunt—so open and ready for him—and another animal growl escaped his chest. You watched his cock twitch a few times, a sticky strand of precum connecting to his stomach.

No words were needed as he grabbed you by the crook of your knees and yanked you off the couch. You yelped only because his movements were so fast and your lower back skidded on the rug, but you were equally opening yourself up wider for him, spreading your knees out.

He knelt before you, chest hairier than ever, and his eyes flicked red for a moment. He stretched his thick cock down along your slick and with one thrust, buried himself to the hilt, making you both throw your heads back with a cry.

“Fuck,” you wanted him deeper, you wanted all of it. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes from the size. He put one hand at your shoulder and one at the crease of your thigh and began to pound you onto his cock as if you were a toy. Your breasts bounced and you kept eye contact with him as your jaw went slack, feeling a mounting orgasm already teasing in your core.

Steve’s hands no longer resembled the hands of a man; they were completely covered in hair now with curved claws. Honey brown fur covered his flesh entirely, and his nose was more of a snout as his eyes bore into you, burning an orange red. His mouth was wider, teeth bigger and sharper as he revealed them to you in a sneer; his tongue lolling out thick and sharp.

You were not afraid though, and he could see it in the way you regarded him, as if the change had not taken place at all. Your curiosity was piqued, but you were not disgusted, nor did you look away.

The curse, it was real. He had not dared to tempt it for so long, thought maybe he had outrun it, but now he was mating you and he didn’t know how to stop.

You didn’t want him to stop. You wondered if maybe this was what happened when some vampires had sex—you’d never tried it before.

His strong, animal hips slammed against you; muscular, hairy legs splitting his jeans open so the seams ripped to accommodate his size.

“Steve, I’m gonna cum,” you gasped, brushing your fingers over your clit.

Monster Steve’s movements sped up and got erratic as you screamed his name again and the fire in your belly swelled to your entire body, exploding like firecrackers behind your eyes.

Steve barked and locked you up against him, balls deep, as his cock pumped everything he had inside of you; body tensing, muscles straining.

You were both panting when your eyes found each other again. He searched your face with his feral eyes as his cock jumped a few times inside of you. You wondered if he had lost the ability to speak since he hadn’t said a word since the transformation.

He unhooked his hand from your shoulder and ran a claw down your face, gently, parting your lips with it, and then drawing down your throat.

There was a knock at the door, and somewhere in the deeply muffled civilized part of Steve’s brain he thought: “Shit, I forgot to text Eddie.”

You looked around, wondering what to do, wanting to cover yourself up, and Steve pulled out of you, savoring one last look at his cum leaking out before he bolted to the fire escape window on all fours and then crouched there.

“Steve?” Another man’s voice came from the other side of the door. “Yo Steve man, what gives? I waited at the bar for like two hours.” He knocked on the door again, and then tried the knob. “I’m going to use my spare key if you don’t answer, man. It’s not like you not to text.”

Monster Steve growled low, staring across the room at the door, snarling like a dog.

Getting the hint that maybe Steve didn’t want anyone to see him like that, you jumped up to find your clothes when you heard the key in the door. You had your shirt on and were struggling to button your jeans when the door opened.

You rushed over to greet whoever it was and found yourself face to face with another vampire, but this one had long, dark messy hair, and bangs that were too long, and a leather jacket over his Alice in Chains tee shirt.

“Hey,” he paused, offering a confused smile to expose his fangs. “I’m Eddie. Is Steve here? We were supposed to meet me but he—-”

That was when Eddie caught sight of the huge, hairy monster dropping from Steve’s fire escape and into the street.

“Shit!” Eddie cursed, pushing passed you, yelling for Steve.

You both made it to the window in time to see monster Steve bounce over the hoods of several cars like something out of a DC comic, and then bolt down an alleyway on all fours before climbing up the next building.

Eddie turned to you, the only human in the vicinity, and cursed. “You let him drink your blood, didn’t you?”

“Well I—” you stammered, trying to catch sight of Steve from the window again, but he was long gone. “I-I didn’t know that vampires couldn’t—”

“Most can,” Eddie sucked in his bottom lip and put his hands on his hips, looking around. “But not Steve. He was already a werewolf when he was bitten and turned into a vampire, and if hybrids drink blood directly from a human, they turn into a beast, like what you saw.” Eddie glanced down at how your jeans were unzipped, and then he quickly looked out the window again. “Especially if there is some type of sexual act involved.”

Eddie paced back and forth in a line for a minute, wondering what he should do—-who he should call.

You swallowed so hard there was a click in the back of your throat. “How long will he…be like that?”

Eddie scratched his forehead, parting his bangs. “It’s really hard to say. Could be hours, could be weeks. But the problem is—” Eddie trailed off, thinking about the last time this happened. “----he’s out there all alone and there’s no way to find him or catch him. He’s stronger than any vampire or a werewolf now.”

You told Eddie a little bit about who you were as you collected your things and went out in the hall with him so he could lock the apartment back up. You told him that you didn’t mind waiting there, until Steve came back. Maybe he just went for a run to stretch his monster legs?”

“That’s way too dangerous,” Eddie promised. “Once Steve is back to Steve again, he’ll want to know I kept you away from him, that I kept you from danger,” he walked you out of the complex and down to your car. “The smartest thing you can do right now, sweetheart, is go home and wait for things to go back to normal. I’m sure he’ll call you when he returns to himself.”

You thanked him and shook his hand, even though you knew Steve didn’t have your number.

You had a plan you thought might work even better.

Once you got back to your place, you showered, cleaned up the sticky trail of Steve’s cum down your inner thigh, and then wrapped a towel around you and went to the kitchen to find a sharp knife.

You went out to your modest balcony on the 6th floor of your building, and blinked against the breeze as a hand-shaped cloud circled the moon. The stars were bright and the air smelled of honeysuckle, and you held the blade of the knife tight before yanking it through your grip.

It slit the flesh of your palm like butter, and you bit your lip against the pain. You squeezed your fist in the air—a summoning on the wind—and watched the dark red flow trickle down your forearm.

You let it drip onto the railing, all along the cement ledge, and then left the sliding door open and made a trail of droplets on the floor to your bedroom.

And then, you waited.

#vampire!steve #Steve Harrington #vampires #monsterfucking #monsterfucker #monster!steve #Steeb #monster lover #vampire steve harrington #stranger things fic #Steve Harrington fic #Steve Harrington smut #steve smut #steve harrington one shot #Spotify

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scoops-aboy86 · 23 days ago

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Had a dream that Steve was a vampire (it kicked in from the bat bites in time to keep the vines from nearly strangling Robin and Nancy in the Upside Down Creel House, decapitate Vecna, and thus save Eddie from a grisly fate) and working as now-famous Corroded Coffin’s nighttime security. If they want to go anywhere after dark without worrying about paparazzi, Steve will go out ahead of them and hypnotize the paps into looking the other way for a while, then radio the band with an all clear.

He wears sunglasses at night because ever since the demobat bites turned him, his pupils open up like flower petals.

Also he and Eddie are boyfriends, Eddie is the only one Steve ever drinks from and he’s been very good about keeping his personal blood bank well supplied with sweet treats so Eddie never passes out after he feeds. He loves fondling the (not so) lil belly and nibbling gently at the soft double chin Eddie has developed as a result, proof that he’s taking such good care of his mate.

All the groupies knew better than to go after Eddie, because no matter how much they want him he “only fucks the most metal creature of the night ever,” thank you very much. He somehow manages to work that into every interview, even if no one brings it up, because it’s been a decade but he’s still extremely smug about bagging the Steve Harrington (who is completely unknown to the world at large because no one has ever managed to take a picture of him for some reason) with the irresistible lure of his totally awesome blood. 🩸❤️

Permanent tag list (ask to be added/removed):

@hotluncheddie @lawrencebshoggoth @sofadofax @thecatkingsthrone @oatmilk-vampire

@wheneverfeasible @hamiltonswiftie @grtwdsmwhr @yesdangerpls @theseaofdespair

#wg steddie #vampire steve harrington #chubby eddie munson #rock star eddie munson #scoops words #steddie fic idea

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paradimeshifts7 · 15 days ago

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Coming to you a day late with a Halloween wip! Gatsby vampire au, I dream of youuuuu. Writing progress is coming slowly these days😅

Hope everyone had a wonderful night!!🎃

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #vampire Steve Harrington #vampire Eddie Munson #great Gatsby au #seriously so excited to release this someday

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dwobbitfromtheshire · 7 months ago

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Vampires in the Dark

A/N: I was just going through my draft folder, and I found this little gem.

Summary: Steve dies in his sleep and wakes up a vampire. Also, why is he suddenly thinking about his own ass with images of himself wearing Eddie's vest?

Steve went to sleep after the gates closed. His bat bites were still killing him and kill him they did. He went to sleep that night and succumbed to his wounds. Yet, he still woke up the next morning. The sunlight streamed through his window and hit his skin harshly. Steve groaned and rolled out of bed, rushing away from the beam of light. His head was killing him as well as his gums. He went to his bathroom and brushed his teeth. It didn't help.

He took a shower and turned the water to cold when the hot water nearly burned his skin. After his shower, he realized he was hungry and whipped up some breakfast for himself, but it did nothing for him. Steve frowned. He looked at the clock. Shit he was going to be late. He was supposed to pick up Robin and meet the others to help with cleanup. He grabbed a pair of sunglasses and rushed out the door.

"What's with the sunglasses?" Robin asked as soon as she got into the car.

"The sun is killing me today," Steve said.

"It's not even that bright out," Robin said. "How's your bites? Are you feeling rabid yet?"

"No," Steve scoffed. "They're actually fine. The pain is completely gone."

"What? They were killing you yesterday. You were so bad, Joyce insisted that you didn't come today," Robin said. "You're going to be in big trouble when she sees you."

"Seriously, I woke up this morning and felt fine. The bites are even closed up. I mean, the sun is killing me, and even though I ate this morning, I'm still hungry. I've been having these weird thoughts today too. Like at one point, I was humming Metallica, and I was weirdly thinking about my own ass. I also couldn't get the image of me wearing Eddie's vest out of my mind," Steve said. "So, it's definitely been a weird morning."

"Maybe you miss Eddie," Robin said softly.

"No, I definitely do," Steve said, gripping the steering wheel. "It's not fair!"

He pulled over, breathing heavily, gasping for air. He couldn't breathe. Tears prickled and burned in the corners of his eyes. He let out a sob. Robin placed a hand on his shoulder and began to rub his back.

I'm still here, Stevie. I'm still here.

Steve snapped up and turned to Robin, wiping away his tears.

"Did you say something?" Steve asked.

"Um, no."

"I think I'm going crazy," Steve said.

"You're grieving, Steve," she said softly.

"But I barely spent any time with him at all!" Steve exclaimed.

"It's not about the quantity of time you spend with someone but the quality," she said.

"I think I really liked him, Robbie," Steve said.

Oh, Steve.

Steve and Robin pulled up the center of town where everyone was helping with clean up. Even though the gates were closed, it still left behind a huge mess. Houses were destroyed, and City Hall was still split down the middle. They were currently working on trying to salvage what they could. They got out of the car, and Robin hurried over to his side.

"Show me your bites," Robin glared. "I need to see if you're telling the truth."

"Robin!"

She pulled on his polo, tugging them out of his pants and raised them up. Robin's eyes widened.

"Okay, no way in hell. They're closed up alright, and they look like they healed a long time ago," Robin said. "Oh my God, Steve! Your skin is burning! In the shade now!"

Robin pushed Steve behind a wall, away from everyone, and his skin stopped sizzling.

"Okay. That was weird!" Steve said, frowning.

"Oh God! I have a theory!" Robin exclaimed.

Before he could stop her, Robin ran off. She ran towards Hopper and Joyce.

"Where are the kiddos?" She greeted Joyce.

"They're with Max. They haven't left her side since she woke up, I left them to it. They can help out later," Joyce said.

"Oh, good!" Robin exclaimed. "We have a problem."

"What is it?" Hopper asked with a sigh.

"There's something wrong with Steve," Robin said.

"I told him he needed to see a doctor," Joyce sighed. "Are they infected?"

"I think you should just come with me," Robin said.

Hopper and Joyce followed her to where she left Steve. He was no longer leaning against a wall. He was kneeling on the ground with his back to them.

"Steve? Honey? Are you okay?" Joyce asked.

He turned to them, a dead cat in his arms, and blood on his mouth.

"I'm not hungry anymore," Steve cried.

"I think Steve’s a vampire," Robin said.

Hopper and Joyce followed them back to Steve’s house. Joyce was quick. She started fussing over Steve as soon as they set foot inside of his house. She wiped blood off his mouth while Hopper hovered nearby.

"He's not going to hurt me, Hop," Joyce said.

"How do you know that, Joyce?" Hopper asked.

"Because he went straight for the cat instead of Robin," Joyce said.

"I love cats," Steve said sadly. "I wasn't going to mention it, but you guys have a weird smell that puts me off. I think I'm a vampire who prefers animals. I really do NOT want to eat another cat again, though."

"You don't feel you're being controlled at all?" Hopper asked.

"No, I mean, there's this voice in my head, but I think it's just because I miss -," Steve cut himself off.

I'm still here, Steve. I'm right here, big boy. Listen to me. I got trapped here, and I don't know how to get out. I've been trying to reach you, I don't know how, but I feel you more strongly than before. I can hear you and now I know that you can hear me! JESUS H CHRIST! ANSWER ME! I don't want to be crazy. I killed Vecna. I brought him down!

Suddenly, an image of Eddie fighting Vecna and ripping his throat out with his teeth filled his mind. Eddie was running as the world shook around him as he tried to get to the gate, but it slammed closed in front of him, and Eddie was screaming on the floor of his trailer.

I can hear you.

"Steve?!" Robin was screaming at him and shaking him.

"I'm okay," Steve said, shakily.

"What was that?" Joyce asked.

"You know how we thought that Vecna died of his wounds?" Steve asked.

"Oh, God, he didn't? Is he still alive?" Robin asked.

"No, no, no! He is definitely dead, but we didn't do anything. Eddie killed him," Steve said.

"Eddie's dead," Robin said.

"He died, but he came back, and he's like me. It's why I can hear him," Steve said. "He's stuck in the Upside Down. Robin, he died, and he turned into a vampire. Oh. Damn. I think I died last night."

"Oh, Steve," Robin said tearfully. "You died."

"How sure are that he's in there?" Hopper said.

"I don't know. How sure was Joyce that Will was in the Upside Down?" Steve asked.

"Will was her son, and she loved him," Hopper replied.

"Right," Steve said, growing flustered. "I mean, I definitely - he's a good friend, and we haven't gotten to know each that well, but I would like to, you know, as friends, which is why I think we should try to get him out of there. He belongs with me - I mean, us!"

"You don't have to say anymore if you don't want to, honey," Joyce said. "Of course, we're going to help him."

"We're going to have to open a gate, Joyce," Hopper said.

"I know, but if what he's saying is true, then that means Eddie saved the world. We need to try," Joyce said. "One last time. What would you do if it was me?"

Once they came up with a plan, it was decided that they would do it at night in a few days. Robin had wanted to come with, but Hopper thankfully decided the fewer people the better. Owens' people were still guarding the sights of the gates, but Hopper managed to get rid of the guards surrounding the place where Fred died. It was easier to get through that way. Unfortunately, it meant that El had to get involved, and, of course, she was quite eager to help the man who helped save her friends and the entire town.

"Dustin is very sad. I do not like it," El had said. "Am I going in with you?"

"No, absolutely not," Steve said. "No, all you are doing is opening the gate. In fact, I am going to go in alone."

"Steve - ," Joyce protested.

Steve sighed and took out his knife. He sliced his palm and held it up so they could watch his skin stitch itself back together.

"I can heal. You can't," Steve said. "If anything goes wrong, close the gate behind me."

"Steve, you don't have to do this alone," Joyce said.

"I'm not. You guys are going to be on the other side waiting for us," Steve said.

"You're a good man, Steve," Hopper said. "You better come back. Can't lose another kid . . . No matter what, you're our kid."

Steve fought off the tears as Hopper pulled him into a hug. Joyce pulled him out of Hopper's arms to hug him tightly, and then it was El's turn. El opened the gate, and Steve glanced at them one more time before crawling into the Upside Down. He had hoped he wouldn't have had to step foot in this place again, especially so soon. He could feel him.

Hey, Stevie.

Steve grinned and followed Eddie's presence all the way to the Munsons' trailer. Eddie was sitting on the steps and flashed his dimples at the sight of Steve. They moved at the same time, and then they were running towards each other. The two vampires embraced each other tightly, nearly bringing each other to the ground when they collided. Steve trembled in his arms tightly.

"I'm sorry we left you here, Eddie," Steve sniffled.

"Hey, none of that," Eddie said, pulling back to cup his face. "I was dead. You had to get out of there. I'm not mad."

"You're not?" Steve asked softly.

Eddie smiled, leaned forward, and placed a soft kiss on Steve’s lips. Steve returned the kiss with great enthusiasm, gripping the back Eddie's ripped up jacket. They broke the kiss and leaned their foreheads together.

"Come on, big boy, they're waiting for us," Eddie said.

"Right, right," Steve said.

Steve grabbed his hand and began pulling him along. As soon they crawled out, El closed the gate, and they were quickly ushered into the car. It was quiet as they drove to Steve’s house, and they soon piled into the house. El was the first to approach Eddie.

"You saved my friends and Hawkins," El said. "Thank you."

"And you must be the supergirl who saved our asses multiple times," Eddie said. "It is I who should be thanking you."

"Wonder Woman," El corrected. "I like Wonder Woman."

"A girl after my own heart. Really could have used the lasso of truth sometimes, huh?" Eddie asked.

"Max says it would help to use it on Mike," El said with a smile.

"Yeah. Love that kid, but he's a tough nut to crack," Eddie said.

"I like you," El giggled.

"I like you too," Eddie said, booping her nose. "Oh, I think you have something in your ear."

El gaped when he pulled a quarter out of her ear, and Eddie grinned as he showed her the trick. Meanwhile, the other three were leaning on the kitchen, watching them fondly. Steve tilted his head as he watched them. He leaned close to Hop.

"You know, they kind of look a like," Steve said.

"They do," Joyce said. "Do you think they might be related?"

"Huh," Hopper said, narrowing his eyes at them. "I'll look into it but I doubt it."

"I should probably teach Eddie how to feed," Steve said. "As much as I hate to break this up."

"I am hungry," Eddie said. "Now that you mention it."

"Come on, out in the woods," Steve said.

Steve walked out the back door with Eddie, leaving the others inside, and grabbed a bag by the door. Once they were away from prying eyes, Steve reached over and took Eddie's hands. Eddie grinned and intertwined their fingers.

"What am I excepting here?" Eddie asked as they walked into the woods.

"We're going to feed on animals," he replied.

"We're not going to kill them, are we?" Eddie asked as he went pale.

"Of course not. It's sweet that you're worried about that," Steve said and kissed his cheek. "We're going to find a deer now. Focus and use your senses."

It took a while, but eventually, they found a deer. It helped that they could see in the dark. Steve held the deer gently and exposed its neck to Eddie.

"You'll feed right here, and I'll show you when to stop," Steve said. "After that, you should be able to know when to stop feeding. When you get done, lick the wound."

Eddie gave him a weird look before exposing his fangs. He sunk them into the deer and drank deeply. Steve began stroking the back of his head, and Eddie's eyes fluttered. Steve yanked at his hair and pulled him back. He was done.

"Jesus," Eddie said.

"Now, lick the wound," Steve said.

Eddie gave him an odd look, but he did what Steve told him. Eddie grinned when the skin started to stitch itself back together.

"It's healing!" Eddie exclaimed and laughed.

"Yeah, now get the food and water out of the bag. Give it to the deer," Steve said.

"That's fair," Eddie said and cooed as he fed the deer.

Steve smiled and watched him pet the deer before sending him on its way.

"It's still very weird, but it's better than feeding on humans, and we'll certainly draw less attention this way," Steve shrugged, and Eddie stared at him. "What?"

"What do you think it's like for vampires to feed off each other?" Eddie said.

"I don't know, want to find out?" Steve asked.

"Yeah!"

Steve smirked before pinning Eddie to the ground, his hands above his head.

Meanwhile. . .

Inside the house, Hopper, Joyce, and El were waiting patiently for them to return. They needed to discuss Eddie's return and how they were going to announce it to the world. Plus, Hopper was curious to know if they could handle not one but two vampires living in Hawkins. There were so many things to talk about.

"They should have been back by now, right?" Joyce asked.

"I will go check on them," El said.

"I don't think it's a good idea for you to go out there with two vampires in the middle of a hunt," Hopper said. "I'll go."

"Do you have powers?" El asked.

"Well, no," Hopper frowned.

"Then I will go," El said.

"There's no use arguing with you, is there?" Hopper sighed. "Fine."

El went out the backdoor and came back a few minutes later.

"They are alright. I did not see them, but Eddie is making happy screams. Whatever Steve is teaching him, Eddie keeps agreeing with him a lot," El said and paused. "Mom? Dad?"

"What is it?" Joyce asked softly.

"Why would Steve call Eddie Daddy? Eddie is not Steve’s father," El frowned.

Joyce almost choked on her water as she laughed.

"You want to take this one, Hop?" Joyce asked in amusement.

"I do not," Hopper said with a groan.

"I will ask Mike," El nodded. "Once they know Eddie's alive."

"You will not! Alright, fine! I'm going to need to sit down for this one," Hopper said. "And a drink."

Once they came back, Hopper was glaring at them, and El's face was a little red.

"Did we miss something?" Eddie asked.

"I'm happy for you guys, I really am, but next time, keep it in the bedroom so I don't have to explain to my daughter again why Steve likes to call Eddie Daddy," Hopper said.

"Oh god!" Steve exclaimed, covering his face with his hands.

"Sorry about that, Ellie," Eddie winced.

"I did not see anything, but you are very loud," El replied.

"Sorry. Again, I'm so sorry."

The embarrassment that had settled over the lot of them had faded over the last couple of days. Although, Joyce still thought it was funny. Eventually, people learned about Eddie's return, and so, over the next few days, Steve’s house was filled with people. He watched as Eddie was tearfully reunited with his uncle and the rest of Corroded Coffin, Eddie introducing Steve with a huge grin on his face. His reunion with his uncle had made Steve tear up, but when Eddie was reunited with Dustin, he let the tears fall as Eddie and Dustin pulled him into the hug. He held them both so tightly, never wanting let either of them go.

"Mother reunites son with baby daddy," Robin said. "That's a great headline."

"Fuck off, Robin!"

It was strange, despite the fact that Eddie and Steve were technically dead, he never felt more alive than in this very moment.

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thediktatortot · 2 years ago

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A Valentines exchange gift for @adelacreations ! It has a little snippet of story to go with it. @hellfirevalex

------

"I..I don't understand...What do you mean you're-"

"Dead? Un-living? Cursed to walk these lands on this earth at night until raptures comes?"

A rumble had escaped from Steven's chest like the thousand hooves of wild buffalo running in the summer nights of the Californian grassy planes, a laugh so deep that I could feel it in my bones as it shook the wooden planks of the floor were we stood.

"Are you scared of me now?"

"...I could never be afraid of you Steven."

"You are though...afraid of me, even just a little. It's alright though, I'm not upset."

I was scared that night, I will admit. Terrified of what the man I had come to know as a friend...a lover really was. The biggest secret he had been keeping from me finally revealed. I had been terrified before of course, laying with another man while the Mother Mary and her child rested on my breast bone, God's judgement weighing heavy on my soul while my breath was light in my throat.

"Will you kill me now?"

"Kill you? No...never...Exactly the opposite my dear William...my Billy."

I'd never been afforded the opportunities and grandiosity that my Steven had been able to shower me with while he courted me, lavish outings and fine clothes draped over my shoulders all paid for by his aloof parents dime. Of course, after he turned me that night, draining me within an inch of my life before supplying me with his own, I found out his parents had been dead for at least a hundred years now.

"S...Steven?...I feel...fa...faint."

"Shh...save your voice my dear."

I'd fallen in love with the man regardless of the gifts and the money, regardless of the lies he had told me to lure me into his web of blood and honeyed words. There was no doubt in my mind at the time that I would have made any other choice than what I did, falling into his arms like a southern bell in the thick summer heat and I was happy for it.

"I'm...I'm scared."

"I know my love...it will be over soon, I swear it."

We had our rough times of course, as all relationships do. Most would call it a human condition but it is not, love and companionship accompanied by hard times and disagreements long settled in by old hurts and misunderstanding Is merely how the world works.

"S...st..."

"Shhh...Once you wake, I will be there to greet you. And then?....Then we can truly begin to live."

However we always made up after a time, slowly gravitating back towards each other over a few years of brooding or ill tempers. It was in our nature after all, something we couldn't fight against lest we fell deeper into the pit of mania. It was easier to embrace it, to throw the punches when tensions got high...yet we always regretted it.

I loved him once. I love him now and I'm most positive I'll be able to love him again in due time.

#harringrove #steve harrington #billy hargrove #stranger things #vampire steve harrington

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runraerun · 1 month ago

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Re-Birth

AO3 | Ship: MetalSandwich | Rating: T | 1k | Tags/Warnings: Blood drinking, Alt Universe: Vampires, Character Death but not really.

Summary:

Eddie and Billy sit by Steve’s grave and lament over his tragic passing.

** Written for both the @metalsandwichbingo & the @harringrovemicroficandart challenge, since both of the prompts were: Birthday 🎂 &Both the min and max word count for each was 1k, so this is me threading the needle. 🪡😄

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penny00dreadful · 2 years ago

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It's my birthday! 🎂

So here, have a snapshot of one of my WIPs. A Steddie vampire story with a twist!

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 AO3

There was a knock at the door.

Eddie recognised it immediately, drying off his hands on a nearby tea towel and walking through the house to open the front door.

“Hey Robbie.”

Robin didn’t say anything, she never did anymore. She didn’t even really look at him, just glanced up to meet his eyes, hunched in on herself before dropping her gaze back to the floor and shuffling inside, coming to a stop in the sitting room doorway.

“Wayne is asleep upstairs so I’m afraid you’ll have to deal with the cartoons today instead of your own personal Eddie Munson concert.” Eddie smiled, trying to force some levity into his voice but it didn’t work. Levity wasn’t something any of them were really capable of anymore.

Robin didn’t acknowledge that he’d said anything but just moved forward, lowering herself down into the side of the couch deepest into the room and curled into herself even more, waiting for him to turn the tv on and switch to the right channel.

It must be one of the really, really bad days. Usually she liked him to make as much noise as possible around her, to keep her brain from fucking her up on the inside too much but today? On days like this? He knew nothing would work. He just had to be there around her to make sure she didn’t get so lost in her head she couldn’t come back out.

Eddie didn’t want to think about where they would be if the government hadn’t provided him and his uncle the house directly across the road from the Buckleys by pure coincidence. He didn’t want to think about where she would be or what could have happened in the last month had he not been here to distract or just exist around her whenever she called.

He sat down gently next to her, not touching her but close enough if she needed him to reach out. Some days she just needed to be away from her parents house. They just didn’t understand the kind of trauma she’d been through. Not the way everyone else in their group did. Wayne didn’t know exactly what had gone on with the Upside Down either, but he didn’t push. So sometimes she just needed to get away.

Other times… other times she got so caught up and lost in memories and what if’s that she had to remove herself and be with someone familiar.

Eddie waited for Robin to move first. It didn’t take long. Barely two minutes into sitting together she slowly tipped to the side and placed her head on his shoulder. He glanced down at her but she hadn’t taken her eyes off the tv, her face was the same blank mask it always was now, void of emotion. He curled an arm around her and pulled her closer, settling in for a long afternoon being with her on the couch in silence.

They didn’t speak. Conversation wasn’t something that happened with Robin anymore. Sometimes he'd pull his guitar out and spend hours playing to her, or around her. Sometimes he’d ramble at her until his throat was dry, talking about DnD or whatever movies he’d caught on the tv recently, whatever books he’d been reading or music he’d been listening to. Just to fill the void. She always stayed quiet. She just needed distraction and someone around her to keep her from her worst thoughts and Eddie was happy to provide that.

And it wasn’t just Robin. Once they'd landed back in the Rightside-Up, he’d had to pull himself together and start taking care of their little fractured Fellowship because really he was the best candidate. He was the newest member so he shouldn’t have been as attached as everyone else had been.

But deep down he knew that was a lie. He might have had the least amount of time with him but it had been time enough for something to burrow deep into his heart.

A month ago they had all failed. The cracks in the earth had carved through Hawkins, making it almost uninhabitable. Having his name cleared wasn’t exactly the big shiny fuck you comeback he'd hoped. The town had mostly emptied and people had fled, never to look back. But hey, at least he could go outside again, right?

In the aftermath of everything, the Party, the Fellowship, the family was… destroyed.

Scattered.

Adrift.

They all stayed within Hawkins.

Just in case.

Because Vecna wasn’t dead. He hadn’t died. He was still alive, still kicking, still plotting their demise so they couldn’t leave. Eddie wasn’t sure how everyone had convinced their parents to let them stay, or convinced them to stay with them. He had only needed to share a look with Wayne.

He understood. Maybe it was something behind the eyes. They need to see this through to the end.

They had to finish it.

Robin was… broken. Afterwards she watched everyone move around her as if in a perpetual daze, wilting. A shadow of her former self. Eddie had a front row seat to her deteriorating state. Sometimes he’d come home from a gate patrol to find her sitting silent and dead eyed on his porch. Sometimes he was the only one who would be able to get her to eat, often something hot and fresh courtesy of Wayne and his own quiet worry.

Nancy had been enraged and vicious ever since. Throwing herself into research and action with military precision and no one was allowed to step a foot out of line. It scared all of them. She’d lash out at each of them with the barest of provocation, biting and angry and determined to eviscerate Vecna after what had happened.

When the California Crew finally arrived back and Eddie had to break the news to them all over again… that was the first night he’d gone to Loch Nora.

Dustin had joined Nancy in her anger for the first week, spitting and cursing at all of them in turn. Blaming himself, blaming Eddie, screaming and furious.

It had only ended after he’d punched Mike in the jaw in a fit of rage.

El had stopped him from beating Mike to a bloody pulp, holding him still with an outstretched hand, gentle but firm. Dustin had been frothing at the mouth, spitting at her to let me go, he deserves it! The prick deserves it, how dare he say that!

El had looked at him with wide, sad eyes before she whispered “Steve would be so disappointed.”

Silence echoed through the house in the wake of her statement before Dustin collapsed in on himself, wailing and screaming his anguish out into Eddie’s hair who held him through it for hours.

Nancy had stormed out, disappearing into the treeline behind Eddie’s house and coming back an hour later with rips and tears in her clothes, her knuckles bloodied and dried tear tracks down her face. She was still angry and driven after that, but not quite as dictatorial as she’d been before.

When he learned Will had named Mike the heart of the Party in some busted old pizza van, Eddie thought there was a bit too much bias there because he couldn’t see how. But it got him thinking because if Mike was the heart, Steve had been the soul.

And the soul of their Fellowship was gone.

None of them knew how to move forward, to keep going. Eddie could see from his distance as the newbie of the group and through the crumbling foundations of their friendships that all of them had always relied on Steve to keep them together. But they’d never told him. They’d never admitted it. They didn’t know if he knew. But he had to have known, right? Had to have known how important, how fundamental, how central he had been to all their lives.

Even Eddie who’d officially known him the shortest amount of time was fucked up over it. He’d known of him in school, but he’d only ever really gotten to know him in a few short days before it was all over. His perception of everything had been turned on his head. Steve is-

Was.

A good dude.

It had almost been unfair. He was unfailingly kind, overwhelmingly pretty, stupidly brave and incredibly loyal. It had felt like a gift to know him, even if it was just for a few days. He’d give anything for just a few more.

Mike, Will and El were getting to the stage where they could start telling stories about him. Funny, embarrassing, heartbreaking stories that made them laugh and cry in equal measure.

Lucas and Max were not there yet. They couldn’t be in the same room as the stories if they tried.

No one dared try to speak of him around Dustin. It was just too raw.

According to Hopper, his parents had just straight up abandoned the house and Hawkins. Their son was dead and they’d heard about it on the news. The story of the ‘earthquake fissures’ and the ‘plucky few who loved their hometown so much, they refused to leave’ had gone global along with a tribute to those who’d laid down their lives to keep the town safe. Steve’s name was at the top. Finally, something his parents could give a shit about.

The Fellowship tried, they all really tried to keep themselves together. Two weeks after Steve died and the most raw of all of the feelings had changed to an ever present and consuming dull ache rather than a sharp pain, they’d all had a sleepover. Like they always used to do, apparently. Eddie hosted. They all had keys to Steve’s house but no one could stomach even the sight of it. It hurt too much.

Nobody spoke much that night. As much as they could have pretended everything was back like it used to be, everyone felt the shift. Something within them had broken irreparably.

They didn’t have any sleepovers after that.

Eddie looked down as Robin shifted against him, getting to her feet. He wasn’t sure how long they’d sat in front of the tv together, but it had been long enough for the sun to go down. He watched her cross the street, only tearing his eyes away when her own front door closed behind her.

He glanced down at the keys to his van and was starting up the engine before he even realised he’d moved. He just needed a moment… away.

He wasn’t sure when he’d made it a habit to go to the Harrington house, but over the last month he’d found himself escaping there more and more often, courtesy of the upper classes' complete lack of common sense, hiding a spare key under the doormat.

It should feel weird being here but instead it just felt… hushed.

Familiar.

Steve was stained here, even if it was all concentrated in his bedroom. It was the only place in the world that still seemed to carry a shard of him.

He didn't want to think about how creepy being here was. He chose to simply ignore it. Pretend it wasn’t weird to wrap himself in a dead pretty boy’s duvet and stare at a dead pretty boy’s trophy shelf like it would contain the answers to the universe while he tried not to collapse under the weight of keeping everyone else afloat. The whole house would be perpetually still and quiet. It was a tomb of memories, unnervingly silent, holding on to echoes of him like a museum dedicated to him. Every time he touched something outside Steve’s bedroom, he felt like an alarm would go off and security guards would descend. Each time he looked to a corner of the ceiling he expected to see a security camera blinking down at him.

It was unexplainable and inexplicable, curling up in Steve’s bed, so he just did it, rather than dwell on it. He could feel bad about it later, when it no longer brought him comfort. Being here gave him the will to power through just one more day trying to keep the threads of the Fellowship together. It made him feel kind and loyal and brave. Like whisps of Steve were reaching out and lending him his strength. It was the only reason he’d gotten through the first week of Dustin blaming him for Steve’s death, of Robin staring blankly at nothing. He would have caved in on himself otherwise.

It wasn’t often that he allowed himself to fall asleep here in the dusty memory of Steve’s space but whenever he did it was fitful and thankfully, relatively dreamless.

Tonight was not one of those nights.

He knew he was dreaming as soon as he saw him.

It was the same dream he’d had for the last month.

But knowing and being able to change how it went were two different things and each time Eddie was forced to play his part exactly as he had the night Steve died.

It had been the thing Dustin had lashed out at Eddie for the most. Eddie was supposed to be the distraction with him. Steve had decided at the last second that he just couldn’t leave his baby brother out of his sight. Eddie understood, he got it. So he’d agreed to swap out. He went with Robin and Nancy to the Creel house. He’d thrown molotov’s harder than anything he’d thrown before, but it hadn’t mattered. Vecna had crashed through the attic window and disappeared when they went down to check.

The trudge back to the trailer had been tense and twitchy, only broken when they’d heard Dustin screaming through the treeline.

That sound was the most terrifying thing he’d ever heard because he knew that Steve would never have let Dustin get hurt.

So if Dustin was hurt, it could only mean that something had happened to Steve.

Eddie never ran harder in his life but in the end it hadn’t mattered. Dustin had Steve’s body clutched in his arms, begging his friend, his brother, his dad to come back to him.

There was so much blood. Red and black blood mixed around him, caked on the end of his nail bat, covering his hands and spilling out of his mouth like he’d torn into those bats again, the same as he had back at the lake.

One whole side of his neck was missing. Eddie had moved around, pressing onto the other side with two fingers, looking for a pulse he knew wouldn’t be there. Dark red blood that had coagulated into chunks had gushed suddenly out of the open wound and Dustin screamed, high and horrified and Eddie thought his skin was going to turn inside out at the sound.

Of course there was no pulse and no breath. His body was cold and unnaturally still, his wide open honey brown eyes were dull and unseeing.

Steve was dead.

So completely and utterly dead that no one tried to make the argument to save him because there was nothing there. Just an empty shell wearing Steve’s beautiful face.

Nancy stared down at him, ghostly pale and shaking, muttering to herself “Not again, please don’t take him too.”

Dustin fought, kicked and screamed, growled and bit when they tried to pull him away. He refused to leave him there, in the Upside Down, but what could they do? Steve was the strong one, he was the athlete. The large built tank. Eddie, Robin and Nancy were all skinny and completely muscle-less. The only reason they were able to get Dustin out was because all his thrashing had damaged his ankle further, the pain making him go limp and dazed long enough to pull him back toward the gate under Eddie’s arm.

Eddie had to pull himself together very quickly to try to usher these three out. He’d have to take care of them, he knew it empirically, he could see it on their faces. He didn’t know how he was going to do it. He’d just have to remember what Wayne had done for him and try to follow his lead.

One moment he was helping Dustin up the trailer stairs, the next moment he realised Robin wasn’t with them. He looked back and his heart fell out of his stomach at the sight that greeted him.

She had laid down on the ground next to Steve and taken his hand, still and quiet. A thought had entered Eddie’s mind, of how Quasimodo’s story had ended in the book and it terrified him.

Nancy had whispered to her for minutes though it felt like hours as he watched, eventually coaxing Robin up and leading her back towards the trailer, though not before they both tenderly kissed Steve’s cold face and Robin fixed his hair exactly how he liked it. She glanced up at Eddie with a watery sad smile as she passed.

“There is all that I ever loved.” She whispered to him with one final look back to Steve, confirming Eddie’s worst fears.

She would have been content to lie next to him, waiting for death to come to her, joining her soulmate in eternity.

She hadn’t uttered a word since.

But before the dream could continue into the agony of Dustin turning his rage back on Eddie, he awoke with a jump.

He wasn’t quite sure what had woken him from his slumber at first. He was surrounded by the smell of Steve that had long faded but he could still imagine it. The stillness of the house around him set him on edge and made him feel watched. But Steve’s room was always separated from that feeling. It felt safe and protected.

That feeling disappeared into dust as the bedroom door creaked.

Eddie shot up from the bed, swinging one of Steve’s nail bats at the dark figure looming in the doorway.

It was too broad to be Nancy or Robin or Joyce or Jonathan, too tall to be any one of the kids or Argyle, too short to be Hopper. Was this the Demogorgan he’d heard stories about? He hadn’t seen one yet.

Eddie brought the nail bat down with as much power as he could muster, which was not a lot considering his nerd arms, aiming right for the shoulder-neck junction.

A hand shot out, grasping the bat just above where Eddie’s fingers clutched desperately to it, stopping it dead in a strong, immovable grip.

Eddie yanked backwards, attempting to pull the bat with him but felt it ripped from his hands with incredible force and he braced, squeezing his eyes shut and tensing his body.

He was going to die. This is how he died.

“That’s mine.” A voice said to him with just the faintest tinge of amusement.

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 AO3

#steddie #steve and robin #steve x eddie #stranger things #eddie x steve #eddie and robin #steddie fic #stranger things fic #fanfic #penny00dreadful #steddie vampire fic #steddie fanfic #vampire au #steddie vampire au #happy birthday to me #vampire steve #vampire steve harrington #Return of The King Steddie #happy anniversary to me

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