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mirkwoodmunson · 1 year

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mid-west monster #1

werewolf!eddie munson x reader

you’ve been with eddie munson for a few months now, and while you knew the boy harbored some secrets — you weren’t aware just how hairy things were about to get

tw: cursing, body horror(? i think?)

a/n: for writeober i’ll be attempting to do (hopefully) daily drabbles, each one a progression of this fic and based around a generated prompt! feel free to send any in as well if you’d like to inspire future installments! happy halloween! LMAO anyway.... i abandoned this wip in early oct. when i realized i should maybe focus on my big move instead of writing, kept getting sad looking at it sitting in my drafts so i decided to slap on a quick sort-of-ending and just post it cause... i love werewolf!eddie so fucking much y'all ;; he'd be the scruffiest stankiest doggo bf and i'm HERE FOR IT. not sure if this'll be continued as past me suggested but if it gets some traction i'd look into progressing the story! hope you enjoy!

Your knuckles are a ghostly white, latched to the steering wheel where your thumb rubs hard into the frayed edge of the wheel cover, anxious and tense. Eddie had been radio silent for the third day now, Hellfire had gathered in the hopes that maybe he’d make some dramatic entrance after working on the materials for this session — but no Dungeon Master had shown his mischievous grin. You’d called and called, stopped by but Wayne had solemnly sent you off each time, assuring you his boy was fine — just going through a rough illness. Maybe it was selfish to think but it made you angry, if he was sick he could still pick up a phone, right? It was the honeymoon stage yet, you’d only started dating a few months back and you could admit you had a tendency to cling to him, but to be fair he seemed to be clinging to you, too. Till now, at least. Had something changed so suddenly?

You let out a heavy breath you just now realize you’d been holding and scold yourself. ‘Your thoughts aren’t always true. Wayne said he was sick so he’s sick. I can at least bring him a treat.’ Looking over at the tote bag of tupperware’d food you encourage yourself to smile and hold it as you pull into the Munson’s drive.

Wayne wasn’t home, but Eddie’s van was here, and so you collect your things and exit your car, hopping up the steps and rapping the door.

No answer.

“Eddie?”

A neighbor’s dog starts barking a few doors down. You could swear you hear something from inside, rustling and a door slamming shut.

“Eds? You in there? It’s me! I brought you some stuff.”

Nothing.

“W-Wayne said you were super sick, so…” you trail off softly, lowering your arms and heaving a sigh.

“Eddie? I know you’re home I— … I’m worried about you, I just—“ you groan softly and just set everything down on the steps, worried the more you call to him the more annoyed he’s getting.

“I’ll just… I’m setting your stuff down out here for you, okay? Don’t forget about it.” A few more moments leaned against the door, waiting for anything, but nothing comes and you can’t help a slight pang, heading back down the steps.

“…Feel better, Eds.” Glancing back you cant even look inside, the curtains all shut tight. ‘He must really be sick.’

You head home but for the rest of the night your thoughts and worries start to take over a little, unable to sit still as you pace your room and question every last interaction you’d had with him, wonder about every possible illness you knew the name of. If he’d just call, pick up when you rang, just say one word to let you know you didn’t need to worry so much.

As you’re in the middle of that thought the phone does indeed ring, and you nearly trip over yourself to get to it, ripping the receiver from the cradle and holding it tight against your ear.

“Hello??”

“…”

“… Hello? Someone there?”

“Y/N?” His voice is low, weak, obscured slightly but it’s Eddie. Oh, your heart nearly beats from your chest.

“Eddie?? Babe what the f— I’ve been so worried! Are you okay?”

“… … I- … I’m- I’m fine, promise. I’m fine.” He sounds strained.

“Are you sure? Do you need anything? I-I left you some stuff—“

“Sweetheart I— I can’t… Can’t really talk much, now… Just… Wanted to tell you, I’m okay…” There’s some rustling as though he’s covering the receiver on his end; you swear you hear him whimper.

“Eds?? Eddie please I-“ *click*

You hang onto the phone long enough for the signal to start bleeping at you as if in irritation that you’re still on the line, reminding you to set it back down in its cradle.

The clock tells you it’s close to midnight. Your brain tells you something’s very wrong.

Fifteen minutes later you’re rocking to a sudden halt in your car, once again sat in Eddie’s driveway. Same as before, Wayne isn’t home yet, and Eddie’s van is parked just beside you. The tote bag you’d left still sat on the steps.

You step out, striding up to his door with purpose and this time just trying the knob — locked. Glancing down the length of the trailer, the curtains still seemed to be drawn and there’s no discernible light peeking through, save for Eddie’s bedroom, a soft orange glow from a covered lamp indicating some presence.

Hoping to high heaven that neither Munson would hold trespassing against you, you bend down and lift the mat as you’d seen Eddie do a few times — the hidden spare key glinting at you in the moonlight. Using it on the lock, you turn the knob again and suck in a deep breath as you push the door open into an eerily silent, pitch-black living room.

“…Eddie?” Your voice is soft and hitched, trembling a little, too quiet to get anyone’s attention. Why were you kind of freaking out right now? There’s a rustle down the hall, a gruff, muffled noise and you gasp, jumping in your step. Looking down the hallway, it’s that same lightless black, until your eyes reach Eddie’s bedroom door — that orange light bleeding through the space between the door and the floor.

“E-Eddie?” You find yourself taking slow steps towards his room, eyes locked onto that strip of light. When a shadow runs across it you feel a cold sweat break over you. “Eds, seriously, seriously I’m kind of freaked out right n—“

There’s no time to react as the door slams open and crashes into the wall, a large, shivering figure in the doorway wearing Eddie’s Hellfire t-shirt, but it’s ripped and stained. You can’t make it out exactly, but the light from behind it illuminates its shape — and it’s much bigger than Eddie. Rugged; shoulders heaving. But its breathing is… unnatural. Almost like there’s a growl laced in it. You stumble backwards and to the floor from the initial shock of the door flying open, hastily lifting yourself onto your elbows, and when you behold this figure you gasp a sharp, shuddering breath, trying to croak out a scream but it catches and you find you can only stutter and whimper, struggling to scurry backwards but your movements are shaky and your limbs feel frozen.

It heaves a growl, snarls but it’s eerily soft, and takes a heavy step forward, vibrating through you. Your mind screams at you to move but you’re still just scrambling, arms heavy, trying to inch yourself away as you emit low whimpers, eyes wide and unable to leave the beast before you. Its eyes glow an unnatural yellow and it’s how you know it’s staring right back into yours. You can make it out a little better now, but your mind struggles to comprehend exactly what you’re looking at.

The creature is at least seven feet tall, almost entirely covered in dark, wavy fur. Its limbs don’t fit, however, they’re too human as its fingers reach up to pull at a mane of wild, shaggy hair, and that’s when you really notice the ears. They’re tall, pointed, set back like a dog ready to lunge. Its muzzle just the same, canine and lined with sharp teeth as it snarls. Eddie’s Hellfire tee… why was it wearing that??

“E-E— Ed—die…“ The tears fall freely and you cry. ‘So this is how I’m gonna die,’ you think. ‘This monster must have eaten Eddie and now it’s gonna eat me too.’

At the sound of your voice, however, something changes quickly. The beast spasms as if struck, crouching and curling into itself as it whines. As you watch in horror, you witness the final stage of this creature's transformation. The same dark fur breaks out over rippling arm and leg muscles, as the creature whines again and groans; you gasp, watching fingers lengthen and sharpen into claws. Arms and legs swell with muscle beneath the sheath of fur, and a howl of pain twins with a sob that wracks you. Terror and fear and also... sympathy. How do you know this creature?? Why are you suddenly so sad that it's hurting.

The beast's head snaps up, yellow eyes aglow, and it... calms. It sighs, almost, relieved the worst of it is over and now its attention is locked onto you. But the menace is gone -- if anything, this creature seems worried. Upset. Sad that it's frightened you.

You're still trembling, however, still weeping silently on the floor as you just lock eyes with this hulking being in front of you. The Hellfire tee... You keep scanning, gaze wandering over the wavy fur, and something dangling from this beast's neck makes your heart drop. The shirt should have given it away, but how could you think straight when a literal werewolf was snarling and staring you down. But now, Eddie's pick hanging from it's thick, furry neck...

You take in a shuddering breath, shaking your head in disbelief. The wolf begins to whine, lowering its head, ears lowered and pulled back again but now like a dog ashamed of what it's done. You cant help a bark of a laugh, the tears continuing to spill.

"EDDIE??! WHAT THE HELL!!"

Your werewolf boyfriend barks. You swear you see his tail wag.

#eddie munson #werewolf!eddie munson #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson ficlet #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson horror #???? i think #mine

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not-a-robot-i-swear-really · 1 year

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Stygian Dawning: Chapter One

Chapter One: The Wolf

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Eddie Munson x Valera Savoy (OC)

Word Count: About 3200 words

Chapter Summary: Valera finds her target and a new wolf is born.

Chapter Warnings: Not beta read, mentions of alcohol, violence and blood, terrible Google translated Latin, Eddie gets his shit rocked and not in a funny way

Heavy thunderstorms had rolled into the town of Hawkins on a dark May night. The whole of the town had cooped themselves inside, heeding the forecast’s warning of blackouts, washed out roads, and flash flooding.

Valera had never been one to let a bit of rain stop her, so regardless of the storm, she went rolling into town in a jet black Cadillac. When she got out the car, she hid her crimson eyes behind a pair of dark sunglasses, and handed her chauffeur a hefty $500 tip.

She turned to survey the scenery; a seedy little bar with the words “The Hideout” displayed proudly above its doors in yellowing neon, with the letters “i” and “o” flickering. Under normal circumstances she would never even set foot in a dive bar like this. But she had tracked her target here, and she wouldn’t be deterred by an unpleasant neighborhood. She would simply have to put up with it for the night.

Quietly disgruntled, she glided through the doors with her head down.

As she set foot inside, she whispered a quiet spell to hide her presence: “Ego Gyges anuli vim invoco.” It wouldn’t make her invisible, but it would keep people from bothering her while she did her work.

She slid into a tiny booth on the other side of the bar hidden away from everything else. The bartender, his eyes glazed over with a unnatural cloudiness, came to sit a bottle of single-malt whiskey and shot glass at her table. Nobody noticed the bartender stopping to serve Valera, exactly as she intended. With her drink in her hand and a vantage point secured, she began her impromptu stakeout.

Her eyes swept across the dingy-yellow lit room; at the bar sat a trio of older men drunkenly complaining about the state of the world, in the corner across from her sat a young couple french kissing and whispering in sultry tones to each other, and on the tiny stage across from the bar stood a band consisting of four boys a bit too young to be drinking alcohol.

The kick drum read “CORRODED COFFIN” in thick, striking letters. They were halfway through a cover of a song by Metallica, “For Whom the Bell Tolls” if Valera was correct. The band was unprofessional, their style rife with all the mistakes of a group with only trial-and-error as their teacher. Valera had never particularly enjoyed metal but she could give credit where credit was due. They had talent and passion, every single member pouring their heart and souls into the performance.

The lead singer, a dark-haired lanky man with chunky silver rings adorning his fingers, played and sung with all the fervor of a piano maestro. He looked a bit older than the rest of his band, in the weird age where he was still a child in the eyes of many, but a man in the eyes of the law.

Valera turned her back to the rest of the bar. As interesting as the frontman was, he wasn’t the target. He smelled different; like a mixture of pine and bergamot. The man she was looking for had smelled more musky with a spicy undertone to it, much closer to the smell she associated with wolves.

This bar wasn’t just Valera’s stakeout, it was her lure, her bait. The full moon was over two weeks away. She knew she would have to get creative to find the wolf before he fled once more, so she’d had Tiberius whip up a little spell made to entice wolves like the one she was hunting. It would only be a matter of time before he showed.

Valera had more than enough time on her hands.

Time passed, the tiny hands on Valera’s wristwatch ticking away as she awaited the wolf’s arrival. Outside the rain’s assault eased as the moon rose higher into the sky. The band brought their set to a close, each member steadily peeling away to pack up their equipment. Only the frontman remained, chatting idly with the bartender; presumbly to get the band’s pay for the night.

As he turned to leave, the man’s doe brown gaze glided over the room, and landed right on Valera. A shock ran through her – it couldn’t have been a coincidence that the man had seen her. Her glamour was all but impenetrable to most beings, supernatural or not, but the guitarist didn’t smell any different than the average human. Maybe he had some supernatural ancestry, something was laying dormant in him? Or perhaps he was a seventh son of a seventh son? It was increasingly rare these days for humans to have so many children, but it wasn’t impossible.

Valera had no more time to deliberate his origins, because the very object of her pondering had strolled up to her table. He plopped himself in the seat across from her, roguish grin on his pink lips.

“So, I take it you enjoyed the music,” he said almost purring.

Valera only lifted an eyebrow in response.

“I mean you’re obviously not here for the alcohol, judging by the untouched shot glass you’ve got here.” He gestured to the bottle of whiskey by her hands.

“And clearly you’re not here for the company, because you’re sitting here all alone.”

“That may change in the near future,” Valera finally responded. She kept her senses open, watching the young man and the rest of the bar at the same time. A little conversation wouldn’t hurt her.

“And what, I’m not company?” He gasped, pressing a hand to his chest in faux-offense.

“You are, just not the one I’m looking for at the moment. And to answer your earlier question, I found your performance... Satisfactory.”

“Just satisfactory? Not amazing, not spectacular?”

“Just satisfactory. ‘Heavy Metal’ is not exactly my cup of tea.” Valera gestured to her attire with an ochre-skinned hand. While she was dressed in all blacks, it was more akin to wealthy aristocrats and Gothic Victorian maidens wandering around dark castles. Eccentric and stereotypical of a vampire, but Valera couldn’t help it if her tastes were aligned that way.

“Speaking of which, what’s a well-dressed lady like yourself doing in Hawkins? We’re not exactly the most interesting place on Earth.”

“That can be a blessing of sorts.” Valera mused. She knew more than anyone else that interesting things often equated to dangerous things.

The pale-skinned man snorted, “You must not get around often. This place is kind of a shithole. I’d take interesting over this any day.”

Valera pursed her lips as she circled the lip of her shot glass with her fingertips.

“What about your ‘company?’”

“Hmm?”

“The guy that you’re waiting for? He can’t be from here, ‘cause if he was, everyone here and the next town over would have heard about it. I know I wouldn’t be able to shut up about it.”

“Oh? And why is that?” She leaned her chin on her hand, long black fingernails tapping on her cheek.

The young man stuttered, his cheeks tinting pink under the dingy yellow lighting of the bar. “Oh, well- it’s just- you know...”

“Know what?”

“You’re, um, you’re really gonna make me say it?”

“Say what?” She leaned forward to stop only inches away from his face, her dark eyelashes fluttering behind her sunglasses.

At this, her impromptu companion was rendered speechless, dark eyes wide in incredulity and his entire face colored in red. Just before he could give a response, the door to the bar flew open as the bartender struggled with another man at the entrance.

“C’mon man, you know you can’t be here.” The bartender grunted as tried to push the man back out.

“Please-please, I just need to talk to her! Just for five minutes. Three, i swear!” The man, no younger than 25, tried to edge his way into the room. Valera narrowed her eyes as she watched the exchange.

There was only one other woman in the bar, and her companion was the only person who had seen through her spell so far, which meant-

“Don’t make this any harder than this has to be-“ The bartender fell to the ground with a deep thud, the other man finally having forced his way inside. At this, the room seemed to spring into chaos; the old men rushing to the bartender’s side, the couple slipping out of a side door, and her doe-eyed acquaintance frozen like a deer in headlights.

An energizing jolt ran through Valera’s body as the scent of blood flooded her nostrils. She forced the thought of it down though, focusing on the other scent wafting through the air: a feral musky odor, with a spicy undertone.

The wolf had arrived.

“As enlightening as the conversation has been,” Valera said as she gathered herself, “I’m afraid our little talk has come to an end. I’ve found who I’m looking for.”

She left before the boy could follow her – he was more concerned with the chaos unfolding before him.

Valera – and the wolf – followed the couple fleeing into the dark woods surrounding the bar. It was easy for her to find them, as despite her inexperience as a tracker, she could still smell leagues better than any human could.

“Stop,” she appeared before them in a flash of mist. A scream ripped from the girl’s throat as her boyfriend darted arm in front of her.

“Calm yourselves. I’m only here to help.”

The boyfriend growled, “Who are you? Where did you come from?! If you’re with Hayes back there, I swear to God-!”

“I’m not, I assure you. But you should leave before he finds you. What happens next will not be pretty.”

“What are you talking about?” the girl behind him asked in a trembling voice.

“I said, leave.” Valera’s smooth voice echoed with her power, and the young couple fell into a stupor. They brushed by her without protest, almost trudging away like zombies. Valera, in turn, whistled a short high tune, calling four crows to land before her. She handed each a scrap of fabric, taken from the couple’s clothes as they glanced by her. The crows flew off in different directions – now, if the wolf wanted to find the girl he would have no choice but to confront her.

And just she expected, the werewolf came tumbling into the clearing, wild-eyed and panting with a ferality only known to few.

“David Shaw.” She addressed with him with a dismayed drawl.

“You again,” the werewolf snarled. “I told you I don’t want your help. I don’t want anyone’s help!” Already his form was twisting, eyes glinting yellow, and claws pushing fingernails off his hands.

“Oh, we are far beyond helping you, Shaw.” As she spoke, Valera dropped her coat to the ground, revealing a simple and elegant sabre on her belt. “You’ve hurt people. You ruined your friends and family, left bodies in your destructive wake, and refused to get treatment for your condition all the while.”

“And let you lock me away in some dark dungeon? Poke and prod at me like some kind of lab rat? I don’t want your treatment.”

She brandished her sword at him, ignoring his interruption. “My only mission now is to bring you in, no matter the cost.”

With that, Shaw mind was subsumed by the beast within. He growled as his skin buckled and peeled, dark fur bursting forth to replace it. Feet lengthened and his shins shortened to form powerful hindlegs. He dropped to all-fours and bared his sharpened teeth in a roar as he rushed at Valera.

Valera met outstretched claws with solid parry; she ripped a gash in the werewolf’s thigh. Shaw yelped and snapped his jaws at her shoulders. He was met with only air, Valera’s body dematerializing into dark mist. The mist split and twisted in the air until she was behind Shaw with a heavy kick aimed at his head. Before it could land, the wolf whipped around to grab her ankle and throw her into a wide oak tree. She cried out as pain arced up her spine.

Valera was a frighteningly strong vampire when compared against humans, but against beings like lycanthropes she was greatly outmatched.

“Gladii vim invoco, Zulfiqar!” As she spoke, her sabre split into six copies floating around her body. With a flick of her wrist, each sword rushed at Shaw to impale. One by one each sword impaled his chest and broke into motes of light; all except the last one which Shaw just barely managed to dodge. With an haunting howl he darted forward to swipe his claws at her. Valera, unlike her opponent, darted to the side long before he could even reach her.

Dark misty wings burst from Valera’s back. With a single flap she carried herself into the air and knock Shaw back with a burst of wind.

“Virtutem Titanis Gaiae invoco!” Thick thorny vines burst from the forest floor and wrapped tightly around each limb to pin him to the ground. Shaw howled. pulling against his thorny restraints. But with Valera focusing so intently on him, he wouldn’t be able to get far. She summoned a silver collar dipped in a potion, made to force werewolves into their human forms.

She approached the struggling wolf, unclipping the collar to snap it around his neck. But then the sound of snapping branches rung out through the clearing. Valera whipped around; at the edge of the glade stood the guitarist from the bar, dark wet eyes glinting in the moonlight.

With Valera’s concentration broken, Shaw broke free of the vines to sink his jaws deep into her leg. She barely had time to let out a pained shriek before he slammed her into the ground. The vines whithered away as Shaw stood, slashing his claws down on Valera. With her leg already wounded, he attempt to dodge was foiled, his claws sinking deep into her side.

No blood was spilled, instead black liquid pouring from her wounds. Valera slammed her fist into the side of Shaw’s head just as he leaned forward to sink his jaws into her shoulder. He stumbled off her with a yelp, leaving Valera to scramble out of his grasp.

“You shouldn’t have followed me,” she called to him as she pulled herself to her feet. She summoned a dagger to her hand and flung it at Shaw’s outstretched hand, pinning him to a tree.

“What- what the fuck?!” he sputtered as he took in the scenery before him. Valera, bleeding black blood, and a beast, a horrific mixture between man and wolf.

“Leave.” She stressed, pushing her power into her gaze. There was no time for it to take effect though – Shaw pulled the knife from his hand and tackled Valera. He raised a hand to attack, but she refused to let him get another hit in, Valera’s body bursting into thick mist again. This time, she did not try to circle him; instead she flew backwards to put space between her and her opponent.

But much to Valera’s horror, Shaw didn’t try to pursue. Instead he turned and lept at the man. The werewolf was on top of him in seconds, faster then any human could hope to react. He brought his hands up to shield himself, but it did little to help. Shaw sunk his teeth deep into the man’s arm. He screamed as the werewolf ripped a chunk of flesh from his arms.

Valera dashed forward, using her wait to shove Shaw to the side.

She shouted another incantation, “Venite ad me, corvi mei!” Seemingly from nowhere, a cloud of darkly feathered birds swarmed around Shaw. With her foe distracted, Valera pulled the dark haired man to his feet.

“Let’s go, they won’t keep him busy for long.” She said as she pulled him with her. He didn’t respond, only murmuring curses beneath his breath as he clutched his bleeding arm to his chest.

Just as Valera said, the ravens only served as a distraction. Shaw was on the their tail in seconds, tearing through the underbrush like a bulldozer. Valera summoned her wings again to pull herself and the brunet into the sky. But before she could lift a few inches off the ground, Shaw gripped her leg and pulled her back down. She was quick to break the grapple, pulling up dirt to throw at his eyes.

Shaw howled in pain and let go of Valera immediately. He flailed, desperately trying to hit something. Unfortunately, the closest possible thing was the guitarist. His claws swiped across the young man’s chest, sending him sprawling to the ground with a shout. He was left with four deep gashes, and the werewolf soon added to his wounds by snapping his jaws around the man’s leg.

It was clear now that bringing Shaw in alive was simply impossible, not with him lashing out at both Valera and the other man at the same time.

She drew her sword once more, but this time brandishing a silver dagger in her off-hand. She darted between the werewolf and the dark-haired man. As the werewolf moved to slash at her, Valera brought her sword up to meet his claws. With Shaw’s hand occupied, she dug the knife deep into his abdomen. Shaw stumbled back and yelped, clutching at the newfound gash in his side. Wasting no time, Valera placed the heel of her boot onto his chest, and kicked him back with all of her strength. Shaw flew back onto the ground with a heavy thud.

“Virtutem Titanis Gaiae invoco!” She chanted again. When the thorny vines returned to do her bidding, she wasted no time in restraining every part of Shaw’s body that could move.

The vines tightened and tighented, thick briars driving deep into the werewolf’s body. Before he could do anything else, Valera rushed forward and stabbed the silver dagger right into Shaw’s forehead.

He could only let a gurgling whimper before he went limp.

The vines fell away as she released her control over them, and finally Valera was allowed a moment to breathe. She turned to the guitarist now curled up on the forest floor. She knelt next to him, holding his face between her fingers.

His eyes were wide open, but they were glassy and unfocused. His chest rose and fell in quick, shallow breaths. Blood was still pouring from his wounds, the red coating his hand and indication of his attempts to stop the bleeding. He wouldn’t survive if Valera didn’t act fast.

“Invoco Hehu potentiam.” With that, the bleeding slowed to a halt as did his breathing. He was frozen perfectly in time until Valera saw fit to release him. He wouldn’t be healed, but at the very least, he would survive until she could get him help.

Valera sighed, crimson eyes drifting up to the sky to meet the moon. A silver crescent, just barely present, hung high in the sky. It would be a good two weeks before the full moon, but the symptoms of a werewolf transformation could show up as soon as tomorrow.

She looked back at the man, still frozen in time on the ground.

This mission did not go as planned, and someone else was paying the price for it.

In English: “I call upon the ring of Gyges.”

In English: “I invoke the power of the sword, Zulfiqar!”

In English: “I invoke the power of the Titaness Gaia!”

In English: “Come to me, my ravens!”

In English: "I invoke the power of Hehu."

A/N: Finally got this one finished! Felt like i was working on it forever, it's been a while since i've worked on a fight scene. Anyway, hope you guys enjoy it, don't forget to reblog and allat. Have a nice day ~❤

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provokedgoalie · 2 years

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ok but have we considered werewolf!eddie

#werewolf!eddie munson #c

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steddielations · 7 months

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There’s a dog that comes around the trailer park when Eddie moves in with Wayne, back when his head was shaved and his eyes were still haunted by the walls of his dad's house. No one wanted to play with the gaunt looking weird kid, so the first friend he made in Hawkins was this big brown dog, way bigger than any others. It was almost scary, wolf-like but he acted like a puppy, nudging Eddie with his snout, cheering him up, always wanting to play like maybe it was lonely too.

Then Eddie made friends at school, the dog visited less as he got older and more sure of himself, denouncing cliques, especially the jocks who lorded over everyone. The dog stopped visiting entirely and Eddie started to worry something happened to it.

Years later, he spots it with Robin Buckley of all people. She’s talking to it, which might seem strange but Eddie always felt like the dog was a good listener too. After that, he tries to find his old friend again and one night, he catches a glimpse of him but he disappears into the woods.

Instead, Eddie sees Steve Harrington later that night, disheveled and dirtied, total opposite to his usual pristine polos and perfect hair. It’s so out of place, the first of many times that Eddie sees him while out looking for the dog. Eddie never says anything, can’t imagine Steve reacting well to a moonlight conversation with the freak. Sure, Steve was iced out of the popular crowd for reasons all around the rumor mill, made an odd match with Robin at their mall job before the fire, and weirdly enough the new Hellfire boys seem to worship the ground he walks on, but Eddie has no impression of Steve beyond that.

Then Chrissy Cunningham dies in his living room. Eddie runs like hell, terrified and ashamed, hiding in the boathouse. He feels like a scared kid again and finds himself wishing for the dog, his first friend that never judged him and always made him feel safe.

That’s when an unlikely group shows up and Eddie has no time to hide, like they tracked him there by scent. Steve Harrington rushes right to him with big brown puppy eyes that feel so familiar somehow, so comforting. Stunned, Eddie lets Steve wrap him in a warm hug, nuzzling his ear with soft assurances, “Hey, it’s okay. I’m so glad we found you. You’re okay.”

To Eddie's amazement, his body just melts into Steve’s embrace, like greeting an old friend.

#secret born-werewolf steve anyone #steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #werewolf steve harrington #rueswriting #mp

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paperbackribs · 3 months

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update: 🐺werewolf Steve, 🦇bat Eddie completed on Ao3 here

How to survive a werewolf attack, Eddie mentally repeats to himself in a determinedly bright manner, channelling every nature documentary he’s ignored. His resolve does little to quiet the jolt of fear that had run through him as it turned into— that.

“How to survive a werewolf attack,” Eddie mutters to himself as it pads one giant paw towards him in the middle of Steve’s living room, hoping that speaking aloud will clear the bees buzzing in his brain, focusing all his thoughts in one direction: he should run.

“How the fuck do I survive a werewolf attack?” Eddie frantically yells at Dustin standing by the couch, grinning a gummy smile back at him with his hands casually thrown in his pockets.

The wolf growls lightly at his tone and Eddie’s head snaps back, alarmed that he’d allowed himself to look away from those intent yellow eyes for even a moment. But as scary as the predatory look is, the size of its head is just as terrifying. As large as Eddie’s torso with a wide, fanged mouth to match. Faintly, Eddie mentally compares one long tooth to the length of his hand.

This is how he dies Eddie realises with a thumping heart.

Not the bats.

Not Vecna.

No, a giant, golden mahogany werewolf nearly as tall as his fully grown adult body is going to open that massive mouth and swallow him down whole.

The beast stops, gaze narrowing to the pulse pounding in Eddie’s neck and he quickly slaps a hand over it, trying to limit the temptation of the tasty blood slash fresh meat vibe he must be giving off. It sits back on its heels; a movement Eddie feels shudder through the carpet at his feet and turns its head to Robin with a slight whine.

She scowls at Eddie, stepping forward to bury her hand comfortingly into the plush at its furry neck. “Don’t listen to him, Steve. He’s just being a big baby.” Shifting her fingers to scratch under its ears, the werewolf—Steve, Eddie hastily corrects himself as Robin continues to glare at him—half-closes its eyes in bliss. Though, he notes that it—he—still keeps his gaze steadily trained on Eddie.

Swallowing, Eddie tries to remember what they had just been talking about, but it’s lost in the chaotic whirlwind of his thoughts and the adrenalin urging his heels back. All of it consumed by the conviction that Eddie is prey in front of predator and about to be fed to what used to be Steve Harrington.

“Oh my god,” he moans, hands coming up to pull his hair down to hide behind, “Am I a sacrifice?”

Lucas sighs in exasperation, “I told you we should’ve showed him photos or something first.” Max makes a derisive sound and sits cross-legged next to Steve’s wide chest; he gently leans against her with a small thump of his tail. “He was always going to freak out, may as well get it over with.”

Eddie would really like to get the small child away from the massive beast right now; despite the fact that Max is a sophomore and would likely rip him a new one at even the suggestion. But it does help, seeing her casually play with the fur under her hand, and the bees die down a little, just enough to remember why they had called him here.

“You wanted to show me this—” Max squints at him and Eddie changes tack “—show me Steve turning into a wolf because you’re concerned about me.” The ridiculousness of it strikes through him, bubbling over into half-hysterical laughter. “Shouldn’t you be worried about the massive fucking fangs near Max’s head right now.”

The wolf lets out a gusty sound that Eddie can only imagine is a sigh and thumps onto his belly, stretching his head out to rest on crossed-over paws as big as dinner plates. The position should look less threatening, but all Eddie can see is how the jaw of the creature has been thrown into sharp relief, emphasising how far it could probably unhinge if given an incentive. He slaps his hand back over his pulsing neck again.

El appears by his side and he nearly jumps a foot, not having noticed her approach while focusing so fiercely on the wolf. She takes his hand, gently saying, “It is okay, Eddie. He’s only Steve and he would never hurt you.”

He keeps a hold of her hand. The Steve he’s come to know since Spring Break has seemed like a pretty good dude, sure; but, the one thing he does know, is that the guy would take a bullet for every kid in this room.

It's not cowardice to hide behind a kid, he reassures himself. Not when the kid isn’t in any danger. Max shoots him a dark look again and he suspects that she’s seen through his intentions. He clears his throat, focussing on El’s kind and reassuring squeeze of his hand, “Right. Why is Steve a werewolf?”

“Good question,” the bill of Dustin’s hat bobs in his approval, “Back in ’84 we were in these tunnels, you see and —”

“Short version, Dustin,” Robin interrupts, which is frankly ironic of her Eddie thinks, knowing she falls into extended explanations herself.

Dustin screws up his face, but condenses the story, “We were attacked by dog versions of the demogorgons and since then Steve has gone all furry whenever he wants.” He waves a hand at the prostrate wolf who continues to placidly watch their conversation, “I see where you went with werewolf but technically, he’s not forced to turn at a full moon.”

Will exchanges a look with Mike as they lean against the opposite wall, “Not technically, no. But he does get weird around it.” El tugs him to sit down with her and Max, but Eddie lets go of her hand, unwilling to let cede the high ground when it’s the only thing keeping his feet ready to run if Steve decides to demonstrate how weird he can get.

“Shouldn’t he have…” Eddie waves a hand over his face with a splaying motion of his fingers. He hasn’t seen a demogorgon yet, but the kids had described them to him, and the demo-bats apparently had the same set-up of gaping maws exploding like a fanged cross over their face.

“Another great question, Eddie,” Max rolls her eyes, “Let me just consult my instruction manual on the Upside Down and get back to you.”

“It’s a fair question, Max,” Lucas says softly and she relents, “Yeah, but he looks like he’s about to throw up and Steve would hate the mess.” The wolf snorts and nudges her with his muzzle; she lightly strokes the top of his nose with a responding smile.

“Our best guess is that the demo-dogs and demo-bats are a weird mix of actual animal and Upside Down creepiness,” Robin says, letting go of Steve to sit on the couch behind him, “And Steve got infected with the actual animal part but the woo-woo creepiness is what helps him turn into the wolf.”

Eddie’s guts turn to liquid, and he hovers suddenly uncertain hands over his body; right beside the areas still scarred from his own demo-bat bites. “Wait a second,” he rasps, “Steve got bit by the dog version and he turns into this. So if I got bit by the bat versions…”

“That’s why we’re telling you,” Lucas explains frankly, “It didn’t happen straight away with Steve so we thought that you should have a heads up at the very least.” Dustin gestures down Eddie’s body with a demanding hand, “And you can tell us if you notice any weird changes.”

“What?” Eddie asks a little wildly, “Like if my voice drops and I get hair in new and wonderful places?” Robin and Dustin exchange worried glances and the latter falls back on a soothing tone that he hasn’t managed since cornering Eddie in the boathouse while he was on the run, “There’s no guarantee that you were infected…” Robin winces at the word choice as Eddie’s eyes widen. “…but you should tell us if you notice anything different, just in case.”

Eddie wants to collapse onto the floor. Just crouch there with his hands pressed comfortingly against his eyes to shut out the insanity this afternoon has turned into. But eyeing how close Steve with his monster fangs is, Eddie refuses to get any closer. He may as well lay on his back and strip for good measure. That way Steve won’t get any denim stuck in his teeth; he thinks the last thought with a small hiccup.

The massive head raises and turns to look over its—his—shoulder with a questioning whine. Robin’s faces hardens slightly, and her arms come up to cross over her chest. “You go for a run or something, I’ve got this.”

Eddie watches those tree trunks for legs rise and feels something quake inside, doing nothing for his pounding pulse that had only just started to subside. Steve looks back at him one more time before licking Dustin’s hand and butting his head against Robin’s knee to trot through the living room towards the backyard.

Chapter 1

#steddie #werewolf steve harrington #bat eddie munson #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #stranger things #paperbackribs writing

1K notes · View notes

thefatedthoughtofyou · 2 months

Text

{ soooo.... @frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe reblogged ONE werewolf post and mentioned steddie in the tags and then... this... happened. It was all spur of the moment with no planning so if you see mistakes and/or plot holes... no you don't. 😬💖 }

Warnings: Billy Hargrove, blood, wound tending, violence, if it needs anymore let me know. ✌🏻

🍒🍒🍒

"I'm completely serious." Eddie says, feet kicked up on.... someone's coffee table. He doesn't remember who's party it is. Jeff nods agreeably next to him, sinking further into the couch.

"No. You've gotta be fucking joking. That would not-" Gareth tries to argue. Eddie cuts him off immediately.

"No seriously. I need a werewolf to take one look at me and go 'I'll have that.' Then claim me as their mate and never let me go." Eddie sighs, the hellfire boys erupting in chaos around him.

Normally, Eddie would join in, cause a ruckus. But he'd frozen after he'd spoken. His eyes glued to one Steve Harrington. Who had been taking a drink and promptly choked on said drink, his eyes wide when they landed on Eddie, beer or some other liquid dribbling down his chin as his cheeks flushed.

He was all the way in the kitchen, his friend Robin chattering away next to him, now wiping at his face. There's no way he could have heard Eddie. Not over the music, and the house full of shouting drunken teenagers.

Eddie watches as he finally tears his eyes away. He watches Steve grab Robin's wrist and yank her out of sight. If Eddie's lip reading was as good as it used to be, he'd said something along the lines of: "Robin. We need to go. Now."

But that didn't make any sense. Eddie was just joking. And Steve was all the way in the other room. Eddie sunk down into the couch, ignoring the way his stomach turned when he heard the front door open and close. There was no fucking way he heard him.

No fucking way.

Unless.

~°~

"Steve Harrington. Is not a werewolf. What the fuck are you even saying?" Gareth was nearly yelling now. They'd been having this conversation for almost an hour and it seemed he was at his wits end.

"Yes he is Gare! Yes he is! I would swear on it." Eddie shouts back, pointing at his friend from his position on the floor, his feet up on the couch next to Jeff. His toes wiggling under his arm every now and again to get warm.

"Swear on what!?" Gareth shrieked, his hands flailing into the air next to his head.

"Werewolves aren't real!" His voice is so squeaky now the neighbors dog has started barking.

"Jeff. Eric. You guys really not gonna help me with this?" He begs, holding his hands out to them, pleading.

"I mean..." Eric drawls, scratching at his ear.

"What?" Gareth asks, eyes narrowed.

"Maybe they are.... There was that thing with Chrissy." Eric says, his voice lilting as he looks in Jeff's direction.

"No. No no no no. We are not talking about that again either. Jeff did not see Chrissy Cunningham drinking blood." Gareth huffs, so frustrated now his face is turning red.

"I know what I saw." Jeff says with a shrug, his hand moving to Eddie's calf and rubbing it rapidly, trying to warm his cold leg for him. Eddie smiled at him and then looked back up at Gareth from the floor.

"He knows what he saw Gare. Chrissy is a fucking vampire. And Steve. Steve Harrington is a fucking werewolf. Possibly. The love of my life. Though that may be a tad unlikely. Given that he almost definitely doesn't like boys." Eddie pouts, and then startles when Gareth stomps over to look straight down at him.

"Oh is it? Is it unlikely because he doesn't like boys? Not because there's no such thing as FUCKING WEREWOLVES!?" Gareth full on yells it. His hands fisting in his hair.

"Gareth Eugene!" His mothers voice calls down the stairs.

"Sorry mom!" He yells back, turns on Jeff and Eddie when the laugh.

"It's not fucking funny. This is ridiculous. You're all ridiculous. It's not real. Fuck you guys." He hisses, keeping his voice low. Jeff and Eddie look at each other, then to Eric, all of them smile and shout,

"Gareth Eugene!" In unison. Gareth screams at them, tosses a few empty chip bags at them and throws himself into the emtpy chair next to Eric.

"You all sound, insane. You know that right?" He asks, sounding calm, and genuine again. Eddie shrugs, Eric laughs.

"Maybe you just need to open your mind?" Jeff suggests, brushing chip crumbs from his shirt.

"Open my mind? To vampires and werewolves?" He asks, arms crossed over his chest with a huff.

"Yes. Because if they exist. And mine and Jeff's crushes are one of each. Ugh. Shit." Eddie curses, his shoulder bumping the small table as he rights himself, slides his legs off the couch and kneels by the table instead.

"We could literally live our dreams." Eddie pleads, his fingers laced in front of him.

"Your dream. I don't have a dream about dating a vampire. Just dating Chrissy." He sighs, his eyes going glassy. Eddie waves him off, not even looking at him.

"I could literally live my dream. My dream of having a smoking hot werewolf boyfriend who wants to mark me and breed me and keep me forever." Eddie whines, Eric and Gareth both groaning at Eddie's details. Jeff gives no reaction, lost in his thoughts about Chrissy.

"You're crazy man. There are not secret supernatural creatures all over Hawkins. Is the whole basketball team werewolves? Is this fucking Teen Wolf? You think Steve is just gonna wolf out at the next game?" Gareth asks, his voice rising again. Eddie plops down onto his butt, elbows resting on the little table, chin in his hands.

"God that'd be great wouldn't it?" He sighs, eyes focusing over Eric's head like he can see it.

"Hey!" Gareth snaps his fingers in front of Eddie's face.

"Rude." Eddie swats at his hand.

"And who's next? Huh? Tommy and Carol? That dick Hargrove?" Gareth shoves a chip into his mouth chewing angrily. Eddie grimaces.

"Hargrove is not supernatural." Eddie shakes his head.

"He's a supernatural dick. Like... his asshole levels are way off the charts." Jeff chimes in, sinking to the floor next to Eddie and taking a swig of Eddie's mountain dew, Eddie nods in agreement.

"Yeah. He's definitely a peice of shit. But not in a supernatural way. Probably good. Honestly. Can you imagine?" Eddie's nose scrunches before he takes a drink as well. Even Gareth groans in agreement.

It's quiet for a moment. None of them talking. The occasional chip crunching or bag rustling, the pop of a soda can being opened. All of them just sitting, thinking, loudly, but in silence. And then Gareth breaks it, and his steadfast denial of it all.

"Okay. But seriously, if they're were vampires and werewolves in Hawkins we'd know about it! That's not something that could be kept secret." His voice is low now, his eyes moving over the boys around him.

"Is it?" He asks, looking slightly worried.

"I dunno. This town does have a long history of unexplained animal attacks." Eric chimes in, the three other heads in the room turn to look at him, slowly.

"What? I like history." He defends. They all go quiet again, for longer.

Eddie moving a few things here and there on the table. Jeff moving them right back just to frustrate him. Both of them slapping at each other. It devolves into a small wrestling match that Eddie wins by going completely limp on top of Jeff.

"Okay." Gareth breaks the silence again. Eddie and Jeff shuffle around, separating themselves from each other, ending up in the opposite spots as before, they notice, frown at each other, and then shrug, looking to Gareth again.

"Okay?" They ask, at the same time.

"Okay." Gareth nods, but holds his finger up at them. Their brows raised on their foreheads as they wait.

"But Steve Harrington. Is not cool enough. To be a fucking werewolf."

~°~

One week, three days, and ten hours later. The morning after the full moon. Eddie nearly hits Steve Harrington with his van.

Rain is pouring from the sky, his wipers on high, barely helping. He's heading for school, Wayne had sent him off on time after a nice plate of scrambled eggs and toast.

He didn't have any tests or quizzes today. And he'd actually remembered to do his homework. The morning was going well.

That's when the body appeared in the road just past his vision. He slammed on the breaks and had never been so happy that he'd been ripped off and over paid for new breakpads last month. The van skids to a halt, his headlights shining on the person, the naked person, in the road.

"What the fuck?" Eddie breathed. He slammed the van into park, grabbed the keys out, and jumped out into the pouring rain. He stopped, grabbed a blanket out of the back, that normally covered Gareth's drums when they traveled, and ran around the front of the van.

"Holy shit." Eddie felt like he'd been punched.

"Hi Eddie." Steve Harrington, naked, wet, waving up at him with a wiggly fingered wave, and holy shit was that blood.

"Is that blood?" Eddie blurts, his hands already shaking.

"Yeah." Steve says, like it's fine, like it's normal.

"Shit did I hit you?" Eddie falls to his knees, holds the blanet out to Steve. He eyes it, looks back to Eddie.

"You're naked." He says. Steve closes his eyes, sighs.

"Right. Thanks." He grabs the blanket, drags it around his waist as he tries to stand. The second he puts pressure on his leg he starts to fall again. Eddie ducks under his arm and catches him. Doing his best to ignore the way Steve's warm, wet, skin feels under his hands.

"Hospital?" He asks, helping Steve to the passenger door. Steve levels him with a look that tells him he should know better.

"Right. Okay. Sorry. Jeez. You just- You're bleeding kind of a lot dude." Eddie huffs, helps Steve into the van and grabs a towel from the glovebox.

His brows furrowed, he presses it to the very large fucking hole, in Steve's leg. He doesn't even flinch, his eyes locked on Eddie, and his slow, gentle movements. Steve's hand settling over his makes his whole body jerk.

"Thanks. I can do that." Steve says, softly. Eddie doesn't let go.

"You gotta put pressure on it." He says, eyes locked on the red seeping into the towel.

"I will." Steve nods, squeezes Eddie's wrist, trying to get his attention.

"Eddie?" He squeezes again, Eddies eyes move up his arm to his face.

"Yeah?" His eyes are wide.

"We gotta get outta here." Steve's own eyes widen, waiting for Eddie to understand. It doesn't take long. He whips his head around, trying to see into the trees around them, his hair completely soaked now, his bangs drooping into his eyes.

"Shit. Okay." He nods, turns back to Steve, hands over the towel to him and nods again.

"Okay. I got it." He says, not sure if he's talking to himself or Steve. Steve nods, fucking smiles, at him, and lets him shut the door.

Eddie runs around the van, jumps back in, starts her up, gets her turned around carefully, and drives.

"Did someone shoot you man?" Eddie asks after a moment, Steve groans as he presses the towel to his leg, hard, his knuckles going white.

"Yep. Sure did." Steve sounds... nonplussed. Like it's just, a normal fucking Tuesday. Which it isn't. It's very much not a normal Tuesday. Because Steve Harrington got shot. And now he's in Eddie's van bleeding. And besides all that it's fucking Friday.

Eddie's hands tense on the wheel, his own knckles white now as well. He's nodding. Just absently. His head knows Steve answered him, can't seem to from words to make his own answer just yet.

"You okay Eddie?" Steve asks, tugging the blanket around his waist more with his free hand. Eddie just keeps nodding.

"Where are you taking me?" Steve asks, seems to realize he wasn't going to get an answer to the previous question.

"Home." Is all Eddie says. He glances to his right, Steve's eyes are on him.

"Wayne'll know what to do. He'll help." Eddie nods, his eyes back on the road.

"He'll help." He says again, to no one in particular. Steve nods, bites his lip when pain shoots through his leg, doesn't quite manage to stiffle the groan of pain.

"Who fucking shot you Steve?" It's the first time he's used Steve's name, maybe ever, to his face at least. Steve snorts, it sounds like a laugh.

"Fucking Hargrove." He grunts, presses harder on his leg. Eddie's head whips to look at him, his wet hair slapping against his face.

"What? Shit. Really?" He asks, rapid fire. Steve closes his eyes and nods.

"Eyes on the road Ed's." Steve's lips turn up in a smile right before Eddie looks away, his eyes are still closed.

"Covered his scent somehow. I didn't smell him. Or hear him. Fucking asshole." Steve slams his fist against the dash, Eddie jumps, his whole body twitching, he refused to acknowledge the yelp that came out of his mouth.

"Sorry. I'm sorry." Steve breathes deeply through his nose, like he's trying to stay calm.

"It's okay. I'd be pissed too if Billy Hargrove fucking shot me." Eddie says, quickly, the words falling out of his mouth faster than he can think them. Steve snorts again, and Eddie's sure he is laughing, as well as he can, through the pain.

"Wait, he drives that blue camero right?" Eddie asks, eyes locked on his rear view mirror.

"Yeah. Why?" Steve follows his gaze, then looks into the side mirror.

"Shit." He says, trying to sit up further, or turn around, or something.

"Put the seat back and lay down." Eddie says, his hand pointing across Steve's lap to the little lever on the side.

Steve does as he's told, the seat going nearly flat. Eddie reaches behind his seat and grabs his backpack, sets it genlty in Steve's lap. Anyone passing would just be able to see the top of it.

He pushes his tape back into the tapedeck and cranks the volume. His fingers drumming and his head bobbing to the music as Billy's car rumbles up behind them, fast. Eddie's lucky he even saw it at all in the rain.

He keeps his eyes forward, fingers drumming. Pretends not to notice Hargove's car pull along side him for a moment. He twitches his head to the side, does a double take and then scowls at him, motioning to the open road ahead of them. Clearly telling Hargrove to fucking pass him already.

He does. Flipping Eddie the bird as he goes. He does a u-turn in the middle of the road and speeds back past them, the water from his tires splashing across Eddie's windshield.

He flips the wipers back up and keeps his eyes on Billy's car until it disappears back into the rain. He grabs his bag off Steve's lap and sets it by his feet instead as Steve sits up with a groan. Pulling the lever again so the seat comes with him.

"That was pretty good." Steve sighs, leaning against the window. Eddie turns his music down.

"Don't sound so suprised. I sell drugs man. I have to act natural a lot. Plus, he almost ran me off the road last month, I was pretty sure he'd try and pass me anyway." Eddie shrugs, keeps both hands on the wheel and one eye on the road behind them.

"Why'd he shoot you?" Eddie asks, glancing at Steve and then back to the road. He'd swear Steve was smiling.

"Why do you think?" He asks, sounds tired. Eddie rolls to a stop at a four way, looks over at Steve, down to the towel on his leg soaked with blood. He pulls away slow, they're so close to home now, no need to draw attention.

"He doesn't know it's me, I don't think. Just that he shot a wolf. He's been trying since he got here. Hunting us." Steve sighs, readjustes himself in his seat again.

Eddie swallows, hard, his heart pounding. His knuckles flashing white again as he squeezes the steering wheel. He turns into Forest Hills, his foot that's not on the peddle is shaking now, his knee jumping and jerking.

He pulls up to the trailer slowly, cuts the lights and the engine, and turns slowly in his seat to face Steve.

"You're a werewolf." He exhales into the space between them.

"I'm a werewolf." Steve nods, gives him a pained, toothy, smile. Eddie nods back, keeps nodding, he's lost in it again. The nodding.

Steve's hand patting his cheek snaps him out of it. He jerks again, not used to being touched there, or anywhere, really. He sees Steve pull his hand back, swears he sees hurt in his eyes.

"Sorry. I know it's a lot. But I need to get this bullet out of my leg like, yesterday." Steve sighs, covers the hurt look with another pained smile.

"Right. Yeah. Of course. Hang tight." He pats Steve's knee genlty, hops out of the van, and yells for Wayne.

~°~

They get Steve inside no questions asked. Wayne carries him to the bathroom and sets him on the edge of the tub. Eddie grabs a pair of boxers from his drawer and brings them to Steve.

"Figured you don't wanna be naked while you do that." He shrugs. Steve shrugs back.

"I've done worse things naked." He says, a little smile on his lips. Eddie goes warm all over and nods, bumps into the door frame as he back out of the small room.

He watches Wayne roll his eyes at him. He shakes his head too, crossing his arms over his chest. Eddie mouths 'shut up'at him and goes to kitchen. Wayne walks up beside him while he tries to get Steve's blood out from under his nails.

"Hey." Wayne sets his hand on Eddie's shoulder, he twitches.

"You did good kid. Bringin him here." Wayne's voice is calm. Always calm with Eddie.

He's never heard the man yell, except maybe at the raccoons that live to dig through their trash and toss it all over the yard. Eddie swears he'd heard Wayne call them varmints once. But other than that, he's soft spoken, so different from Eddie's father. Eddie's grateful. Everyday.

"Yeah. He was just out in the road. I almost hit him." Eddie's lip wobbles and Wayne pulls him to his chest, his hand rubbing up and down Eddie's back.

"But you didn't. You stopped. And you saved him, sounds like, so..." he pulls back, cradles Eddie's face.

"Seems to me that's all that matters." He lifts his eyebrows, giving Eddie that look. Eddie nods, a little frantic, licks his lips, looks in the direction of the bathroom.

"Yeah. That's what matters." He nods again, wipes his hands on his shirt. Opens his mouth to thank his uncle when Steve calls his name.

"Go on. Go see to your boy." Wayne tilts his head in Steve's direction.

"Oh my god. He's not my- he can hear you." Eddie hiss/whispers at Wayne. He pulls his lips into his mouth, shrugs, looking like he could not be less sorry. Eddie hisses at him as he walks away, glaring. Wayne laughs behind him and starts a pot of coffee.

"You called?" Eddie teases when he gets to the bathroom, leans agaisnt the doorframe.

"You came." Steve teases back, his eyes locked on Eddie. Eddie flushes again, from head to fucking foot. He clears his throat, rubs at the back of his neck.

"Did you need something?" Eddie asks, his eyes on the floor now. He swears he hears Steve chuckle, but can't risk looking up to find a smiling, teasing Steve, he wouldn't survive it right now.

"Yeah. Two things actually. And you're not gonna like the second one." Eddie's eyes snap to Steve's face, he looks apologetic.

"What is it?" Eddie asks, shoving his hands into her pockets nervously.

"Well the first thing, I need you to call Jim Hopper. Tell him what happened. And that I'm here. And I'm safe. I am safe with you, right Eddie?" Steve looks up at him with wide eyes. Eddie nods, licks his lips, tries to do better.

"Yeah. Course. That thing, earlier? When you touched me. And I flinched." He jerks his head back, motioning behind him, into the past hour.

"That wasn't because of you and your- it wasn't cuz of that. I'm not afraid of you. I'm just not used to people touching me." Eddie babbles, knows that's probably not what Steve meant, probably not why he was asking if he was safe.

But that hurt look kept bouncing around Eddie's head and he had to say it, to tell him it wasn't because of Steve, any part of him. And it pays off, his babbling, for once, because Steve smiles, and his cheeks tint pink, and Eddie could look at that all day.

"Thanks." Steve mumbles, Eddie nods.

"Call Hopper. Got it. And the second thing?" He rocks up onto the balls of his feet and then back down, Steve looks up at him and grimaces.

"I need you to help hold this while I dig the bullet out." Steve taps the little homemade tourniquet he and Wayne had put together, resting right above the bullet wound. Eddie swallows, his throat suddenly very dry.

"O-okay." He stammers.

"Do you want Wayne to do it?" Steve asks, eyeing Eddie like he thinks he's gonna pass out. Eddie shakes his head, once to answer the question, and then again to clear it.

"Lemme go have Wayne call Hopper. And I'll be back. Should I bring more towels?" He asks, hand firmly planted on the doorframe as he leans into the bathroom, his eyes on the bloody towel in the sink.

"Maybe one more. And two glasses of water." Steve says, nods when Eddie does.

"What's the water for?" He asks, brow furrowed.

"To drink. Thought maybe you could use a glass too. I can hear your throat clicking from here." Steve teases, smiling again when Eddie nods frantically and ducks out of the bathroom.

"You can probably hear my throat clicking from across town." He mutters to himself, grabbing two glasses out of the cabinet.

"Not quite that far. Maybe a few blocks, if I really focus." Steve calls from the bathroom.

"Jesus Christ." Eddie mutters, hears Steve laugh. He shakes his head, fills the glasses, gives Wayne his instructions for Hopper, shoves a towel under his arm, and waddles carefully back to the bathroom, hands full.

"There ya go." Eddie hands him a glass, tries not to stare at his throat when Steve chugs it, startles when Steve looks at him and chugs half his own glass.

"Where should I..." he trails off, looking around the bathroom.

"On your knees." Steve points to the space next to him, Eddie obeys immediately, his knees hitting the floor hard. His bites his lip, closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, using all his willpower to not look at Steve right now, in this moment.

"That was-"

"Don't. Just- please don't. I'm mortified, can we just..." Eddie waves his hand towards Steve's wounded thigh.

"Mhm. We can." He says, and Eddie swears he sounds like he's trying not to laugh. Eddie rolls his eyes.

"Nothing wrong with obeying orders well." Steve says, his voice hushed as Eddie scoots closer. He freezes, his eyes finally looking up, Steve is staring at him. Eddie gulps, Steve's eyes drop to his throat and jump back up.

"Put your hands here." Steve guides him, shows him where to hold the tourniquet, how to pull but not too tight. His fingers move over the back of Eddie's hands, leaving the faintest tracks of blood on his skin as Steve whispers,

"Good boy." Against Eddie's ear.

"Jesus H Christ." Eddie shutters, his shoulders tensing.

"Sorry. Couldn't resist." And Steve fucking winks at him. Eddie rolls his eyes and huffs, Steve laughs, shakes his head, and then rolls his shoulders.

"You don't have to watch." Steve says, serious now. Eddie nods, but finds he can't look away.

Steve's hand rests on his thigh, as Eddie watches his nails grow dark, and long, and sharp. Thick claws now where his nails used to be. Eddie watches as Steve moves, presses his finger into the hole in his leg and digs. He shoves his thumb in along side it, blood blooms bewteen his fingers and Eddie tightens his hold.

The whimper Steve lets out is what draws Eddie's eyes away. Away from the claws and the blood. They land on Steve's face, his features pinched in pain. He grits his teeth and Eddie sees fangs, too sharp teeth filling Steve's mouth as he groans.

"Steve?" Eddie's voice is airy, his throat tight.

"I'm alright. Almost got it." Steve grunts through his teeth, his jaw clentched.

"Okay. Be careful." Eddie whispers. Steve snorts again, pulls his thumb and finger back out of the wound with a whine, something shiny held between them.

He sags, his body drooping with relief. He holds the bullet out, Eddie moves, slowly lets go of the tourniquet, and holds out his hand.

"Don't lose that." Steve cautions, pausing before he drops it into Eddie's palm. Eddie nods, drops it into the cup near his toothbrush and moves back to Steve's side.

"What now?" He asks, hands hovering, not sure where to land. Steve looks at him, hooks his fingers under the tourniquet and winks at Eddie again.

"Now. I heal." He slips the rags off his leg. Eddie watches as one small pulse of blood bubbles up out of the wound, and then he watches as the edges close, the skin knitting itself back together. Steve wipes a towel over his leg, clearing the blood, and the wound is gone.

"Holy shit." Eddie says, breathless. His eyes jump to Steve face and he smiles.

"You're amazing." He breathes, and then smiles wider when his cheeks tint pink again.

"Ya think so? Most people wouldn't agree." Steve says, but he's smiling too.

"Well most people are idiots. And objectively you're probably weird as shit. But I love weird shit." Eddie shrugs, rubs at his neck when Steve just stares at him, feels himself going red again and stands. Offers his hand to Steve, helps him to his feet. He stumbles forward, Eddie catches him with his hands on his waist, feels his cheeks go impossibly hotter.

"You're hearts always beating so fast. Is that cuz of me?" Steve whispers, his hand settling on Eddie's chest, right over his fluttering heart. Eddie swallows, manages a nod before his resolve leaves him and he steps away from Steve hastily.

"You can shower if you want. I'm gonna- I'll go find you some clean clothes." He jerks his thumb over his shoulder, bounces off the doorframe and bolts down the small hallway to his room.

He falls onto the edge of his bed, his legs wobbly, his chest aching, and his lungs somehow not pulling in enough air. He smiles when he hears the shower start, tries not to picture Steve in there showering. And shit, he forgot.

"The warm waters a little tricky. You gotta turn it all the way up and then lower it back down." He says, not too loud, wanting to know if Steve will hear him. He hears the tell squeak of the warm water handle and then Steve calls,

"Thanks!" Through the thin walls. Eddie bites his lip and falls back onto his bed, his head buzzing. He can't wait to tell Jeff. Oh, he sits up, thinking, he should ask about Chrissy. See if Jeff was right. All signs seem to be pointing that way.

He opens his mouth to ask when there's a knock at the door.An aggressive knock. More like someone pounding and trying to get in.

Eddie's up in a flash, but when he gets to the living room Wayne is near the door, his hand held out to Eddie, stopping him.

"It's not Hopper." Wayne mouths, and that's when Eddie sees the gun in his hand. Wayne's old shotgun. He'd only seen it once. When he turned 17, Wayne showed him where it was, and how to load and use it, in case of emergencies only.

Eddie's body tenses, his hands curled into fists at his sides. He can hear the shower running behind him. Hopes Steve is listening too.

"Open the door Munson! I know you've got him in there!" Hargove's taunting voice calls. A shiver runs down Eddie's spine, he shakes his head instinctively. He sees Wayne do the same. His uncle waves him down again, his palm held out towards Eddie, he lowers it slowly: stay calm. Eddie nods.

Wayne opens the door, keeps his shotgun hidden off to the side.

"Ain't nobody here but us. I think you should leave. We don't want any trouble." Wayne tells him calmly, his voice steady as he clicks the saftey off the gun in his hand. Eddie's breathing is shallow. He hears a snort from outside.

"Yeah right. You're Munson's. All you know is trouble. And you stepped in it big this time." Hargrove snarls.

"Now hand over that fuckin monster you got in there. And maybe I won't teach that little freak of yours a lesson for takin what's mine."

Eddie watches Wayne's knuckles go white where they're holding the door, watches the door shake as he grips it tight.

"Police are already on their way boy. You best be on yours before you get hurt." Wayne's voice is still calm. Too calm. Eddie's never heard him sound that way before. He can feel the anger just beneath the surface, his anger boils there too.

Wayne starts to say something else when Hargrove jumps forward, slams his body against the door, almost through it. Wayne stumbles backward, caught off guard just enough for Hargrove to get the drop on him. He grabs Wayne's arm, tugs him forward and headbutts him.

Eddie's stomach twists at the sound, as he watches Wayne fall to the floor. He knows he can't get to the gun. But Hargrove could. Doesn't seem to care about it though. His eyes land on Eddie, cold and empty, his jaw clenched. Eddie turns, makes for his bedroom. He feels Hargrove's hand slam down on his shoulder and screams.

"Steve help m-" Billy's knuckles slam into his cheek, he feels his lip split when his face hits the ground. Feels Hargrove move over him, and then away. His shadow there and then gone, quick as a flash. Eddie looks up, hears a low growl, and sees Hargrove against the wall, his feet almost a foot above the ground, Steve's clawed hand around his throat, holding him there.

His mouth is full of fangs again, his skin covered in fur now, not completely, just a thin layer, and his eyes seem to glow in the low light of the trailer. Eddie scrambles to his knees, hears another growl.

"Touch him again and I willl rip you apart." The words rumble deep in Steve's chest. Hargrove chokes and gags as Steve squeezes him tighter.

"Sounds like a great plan kid. But how bout you let me handle the rest huh?" A new voice. Eddie startles, tries too fast to turn and ends up on his back. Footsteps approach him and he's look up at Sheriff Hopper.

"You alright kid?" He asks, Eddie nods, his chest clenches.

"My uncle-"

"Already back on his feet kid. C'mon." Hopper extends his hand. Eddie takes it, lets the big man yank him to feet easily. Eddie suspects he may be a wolf himself. Or something else.

"Steve. Let him go." Hopper says, slow, like he's talking Steve down. He still has Hargrove against the wall, he's only wearing the boxers Eddie gave him. His skin is all skin again, but his claws are still out, his fangs pushing at his lips, his chest is heaving.

Eddie watches Hopper move toward him, Steve growls, low in his throat, Hargrove struggles as his fingers tighten, Hopper stops.

"Hey. Kid. I know. Alright. I get. He hurt your friend."

Another low growl, deeper, more feral, Steve's brow furrows.

"Oh. Shit. Okay." Hopper sighs, glances at Eddie.

"You're okay right?" He asks, leaning into Eddie's space a bit, Eddie thinks he sniffs him.

"Yeah. I'm okay. I'm good." Eddie nods, his eyes going back to Steve when Hopper's do.

"Your boys okay. Just a split lip. Nothin serious. He's okay." Hopper reassures, takes a few small steps forward. Steve twitches with each one. His grip on Hargrove's throat still tight.

"Steve I'm okay. You can let go now." Eddie tries. He watches the muscles in Steve's arm relax, but only a little. Eddie shakes his head, makes a decision. He steps forward, dodges Hopper when he reaches for him.

"Kid don't-"

"It's fine." Eddie dismisses. He walks up to Steve, gets close, Eddie moves his hand over his arm slowly, letting Steve feeling him.

"I'm right here. I'm okay." He soothes, fingers pressing into Steve's hot skin. But it works, his body relaxes, he loosens his hold on Hargrove, lets him slide down the wall til his feet touch the floor, but doesn't let go.

"Fuckin'... freak." Hargrove gasps, glaring at Eddie, eyes full of hate.

"Shut up." Eddie and Steve speak in unison, but Steve yanks him forward, then slams him back. His head hits the wall and Steve lets him go. He falls to floor, unconscious.

Steve turns to Eddie then, teeth too big for his mouth. His lips pushed out in a pout around his fangs, and he whines, his hand lifting to touch Eddie's lip, his claws receding back into his nails before his fingers touch Eddie.

He licks the blood from Eddie's lip off his fingers and then grabs for him, pulling him against his chest with a whine, clinging to him as he nuzzles into Eddie's neck. Eddie gulps, wraps his arms around Steve slowly, awkwardly, does his best to hold on. To soothe him.

Once Steve's calmed a bit he pulls back. Eddie looks down, Billy's body is gone. He turns to look behind him, Wayne and Hopper are sitting on the couch, watching some old movie. Eddie's brow furrows. How fucking long had Steve been holding onto him?

"Sorry. I didn't mean to, like, trap you." Steve clears his throat. Eddie turns back to him, he looks embarrassed. Eddie smiles, cups his cheek.

"It isn't a trap if it's somewhere I wanna be. Is it?" Steve looks uncertain for a moment, his eyes darting around Eddie's face, looking for something, Eddie's sure. He either finds, or doesn't, because he smiles so brightly it nearly blinds Eddie.

"Really?" He asks, his fingers twitching at his sides.

"Yeah. Kinda had a crush on you since like, fuckin forever. Seventh grade or something stupid." Eddie shrugs.

"Fifth grade." Wayne calls from the couch, Eddie rounds on him, he hadn't even looked away from the tv.

"Oh my god what does it matter! Bud out would you? I'm having a moment!" Eddie hisses, watches Wayne smile into his cup of coffee. He opens his mouth to snark some more but Steve's hand turning his face back to him stops him.

"Fifth grade?" Steve asks. Eddie rolls his eyes, sighs, nods.

"Yeah."

"Wha- Why?"

"You gave me a rock." Eddie huffs, bites into his lip.

"I gave you..." Steve gasps, his hands moving to Eddie's waist and tugging.

"I gave you a rock!" He says, excited. Eddie nods.

"I know. I was there." He rolls his eyes, teasing. Steve looks at him, for a long moment.

"Did you keep it?" He sounds so hopeful. Behind them, Wayne snorts and then clears his throat. Eddie groans, loud, and long. Wayne and Hopper both chuckle.

"Of course I kept it. I'm a big gay loser and a pretty boy gave me a rock. It's on my nightstand." Eddie admits, his shoulder sagging in defeat.

But then Steve is nuzzling against his cheek and he decides he doesn't care if he's a loser. That pretty boy was a werewolf, and apparently this werewolf thinks of Eddie as his. And he could definitely get used to that.

"You kept it." Steve hums, presses his nose into Eddie's throat and nearly fucking purrs with delight, his chest rumbling against Eddie's, making his heart flutter.

"Alright kid. We gotta get this sorted. Get that bullet. We'll get this delt with. And you can come back here and... well you can come back here. The rest is none of my business." Hopper declares, clapping his hands once, as he stands and moves to the door.

Steve pulls back, nods, and ducks back into the bathroom. Eddie brings him some clothes and then he's gone. Riding away in Hoppers cruiser, an unconscious Billy Hargrove in the backseat, bound and gagged, for good measure.

Wayne moves to stand beside him as he watches them drive away. His arm wraps around Eddie's shoulders and tugs him close.

"Rough day kid." Wayne says, giving him a squeeze.

"Yeah. Not all bad though." Eddie considers, drops his head on Wayne's shoulder.

"Definitely not. C'mon," Wayne gives his shoulder a pat.

"Let's get this house cleaned up before your boy gets back."

Eddie nods, follows him back inside, and starts cleaning. There's woodchips all over the hallway, Steve had shattered the door coming out to help Eddie and Wayne. Eddie suppresses a shiver at the thought.

But has trouble not thinking about the way Steve had been so mad because Billy had hurt him, hurt Eddie. Not his friend. He'd been mad about that word too. Not his friend. Just his.

Eddie swept the floor and tidied his room and let the feeling of being Steve's surround him. Let it fill his head and his chest. Let it lift him up off the floor, his body floating when he finally fell into bed to wait for Steve. His Steve.

~°~

Eddie wakes to gentle hands on his shoulder. He lets go of his pillow and rolls to find Steve, on his knees on the matress behind him. He scrambles to sitting, hands reaching for Steve, met with Steve's own out stretched hands.

"You came back." Eddie mumbles, still drowsy. Steve smiles, soft.

"Course I did. Nowhere else I'd rather be." He whispers, presses forward, his face so so close.

"Can I kiss you?" He asks, Eddie feels his breath rush over his skin.

"You want too?" Eddie asks, because his brain still hasn't quite caught up, isn't sure this isn't just a dream.

"Eddie." Steve says name the way no one ever has, all longing and need, curled at the edges from exasperation.

"Yeah Steve?" Eddie's trembling now, his hands shaking in his lap. Steve takes them in his, like he can read Eddie's mind.

"I've wanted to kiss you for awhile now. Even before I heard what you said at that party." Steve whispers the last bit, his mouth curving into a smirk, his eyes twinkling. Eddie's own eyes widen and then squeeze shut as he groans, takes his hands from Steve's and hides his face.

"You did hear me. I knew it oh my goooodddd." He rolls onto his back, rolling side to side on the bed, bumping Steve with his thighs everytime he rolls toward him. The laugh Eddie's dramtics pull out of Steve is beautiful, it makes Eddie feel like flying.

He drops his hands to his stomach and looks up at Steve. Steve looks right back, his eyes soft, his mouth curved just so in a small smile.

"I wanna kiss you so bad Steve." Eddie admits, his fingers drumming on his stomach. Steve's nose scrunches.

"Yeah? You sure?" Eddie tilts his head, trying to read the sudden change in Steve. His confidence seeming to fail him.

"Did you think I would genuinely say no to you?" Eddie asks, pushing himself up to sitting, so he can see Steve better. Steve picks at a loose thread on Eddie sheet, lifts one shoulder, drops it again.

"Who the fuck could say no to you?" Eddie wonders aloud, just a breathed out question.

"Not everyone can love a monster." The words fall past Steve's lips with sadness, his voice thick with it. Eddie's heart aches for him.

"Hey. You're not a monster." Eddie shakes his head, Steve levels him with such a bitchy look, it nearly takes Eddie's breath away. He snorts and holds up his hands in surrender.

"Okay. Okay tech-... technically you- you are a monster." Eddie rests his hands on Steve's knees.

"Like in the, literal, old movie wolfman monster, definition. Then yes. Sure. You're a monster." Eddie shrugs, shakes Steve's knees until he's wobbling back and forth with Eddie.

"But that doesn't mean you're a monster." Eddie shakes his head.

"And hey, even if you are. You've come to the right place. Eddie Munson, monster fucker extraordinaire!" He does a little jazz hands display before pointing at himself. He can see Steve fighting a smile.

"I mean not that I've... fucked a monster... before..." he trails off, eyes on the ceiling, thinking. He snaps his fingers, points at Steve.

"But I am willing! And hopefully," he wiggles his fingers in Steve's direction,

"Able." He smiles awkwardly, his eyes dropping to Steve's crotch and then back up, his cheeks flushing when Steve raises his eyebrows at him.

"Willing and able. That's me." Eddie points both his thumbs at himself, Steve's lip twitches. Eddie clasps his hands in front of him.

"Please say something so I can stop talking." Eddie begs through a helpless breathy laugh. Steve drags his teeth over his lower lip and shakes his head slowly, moves closer, presses into Eddie's space.

"No... you're not gonna say anything? Or no... umm... wh- what did I say after that?" Eddie stammers as Steve keeps moving, one hand on Eddie's chest, pressing him back into the matress, the other ending up near Eddie's head, supporting Steve as he hovers over Eddie.

"I like when you talk." Steve says, tossing his leg over Eddie, sitting on his thighs. Eddie nods, feeling a little frantic.

"Oh well thats good. Cuz I'm notorious for not knowing when to shut the fuck up. Now being one of those times I fear. Pretty sure. My mouth literally will not stop moving." The nervous laugh that comes out of him just makes Steve smile more, but it's different, sharp at the edges. Eddie realizes what the look is and gulps, Steve leans over him, chest to chest now, nose to nose. He looks hungry.

"I'm almost certain I can find something that will shut you up." Steve fucking purrs, his finger dragging down over Eddie's lips, his hand moving to cup Eddie's cheek. Eddie's eyes flick down between them and then back up.

"I mean we gotta try right? There's gotta be somethin- mmphf! Mmmm." Steve kisses him, presses his lips to Eddie's like he's trying to swallow his words. Eddie hums into it, hands moving to Steve's neck, his shoulders, his back. His hands move everywhere, feather light touches, not sure where to land. Steve pulls back, rests his forehead against Eddie's.

"I really like you." He sighs, his eyes squeezed tight, his chest rising and falling with each deep breath he takes. Eddie watches him, eyes closed, trying to stay calm.

"I really like you too. That's why I kept the rock. And the bird you drew me in seventh grade." Steve's eyes open, he looks down at Eddie, brow furrowing.

"And the poem you wrote freshman year, about wanting to be a wolf." Eddie leans up, presses his lips to Steve's forhead.

"Kinda cheated on that one didn't ya?" Eddie whispers, wraps his arms around Steve as he settles in his lap. Steve gasps when Eddie kisses down his neck.

"I kept the sweatshirt you gave me at the football game too.Sophomore year. It's tucked away in my closet." He kisses back up, eyes closing on a hum as Steve pushes his hands up under Eddie's shirt, needing to touch him.

"I used to take it out and just hold it. And smell it. But it stopped smelling like you. Years ago." Eddie breathes against his lips, Steve whimpers into his mouth.

"I like you so much." Eddie whispers, pressing a kiss to Steve's lips.

"You being a werewolf isn't gonna change that." He kisses Steve's cheeks, his left one twice, once for each freckle.

"If anything, it will make my feelings, monumentally stronger. Like it'll be disconcerting. It's gonna make people uncomfortable." He kisses Steve's eyelids as he laughs, squirms in Steve's arms when his hands work their way into the back of his pajama pants.

"I'm gonna be obsessed with you." Eddie whispers, kissing down Steve's nose and across his lips again. Steve whines again, chases his lips, Eddie puts two fingers across them, to shush him, groans when Steve pulls them into his mouth and sucks, his cheeks hollowing as he blinks at Eddie, eyes hooded and needy.

"Jesus okay. There's is- there is a 'but' coming." Eddie gasps, Steve smirks around his fingers but lets them go.

"What's the but?" Steve asks, pouting as he moves his hands up Eddie’s back again. Eddie snorts and kisses his cheek again.

"I just-" he stops, takes a deep breath. His stomach twisting. He feels Steve's hand on his chest and opens his eyes, Steve tilts his head like a puppy.

"Your hearts beating fast again." He says, quiet, like he's talking to himself.

"I'm nervous." Eddie says, straight to the point. Steve tilts his head the other way.

"Nervous to be with me?" Steve's thumb soothes over Eddie's chest, through his shirt.

"Nervous cuz- I've never done this." Eddie bites his lip.

"I kinda figured you were a virgin ya know." Steve shrugs, noses at Eddie's neck. Eddie puts his hands on Steve's chest and pushes him back genlty.

"Umm... excuse me?" Eddie scoffs, a smile tugging at his lips.

"What? Virgins smell different." Steve says, like it's a normal thing to say.

"Ew. What? Why?" Eddie asks, his fingers tangling in Steve shirt as he laughs, his arms winding around him and pulling him closer.

"Dunno. Never asked. It's just true. You smell so good anyway but that part," Steve shivers, looks down at him.

"It's just sweet. You smell sweet." Steve smiles down at him, kisses his cheek, runs his fingers over the spot after.

"Okay well, that's all... a lot of information. But what I meeeeant," Eddie drawls, poking Steve in the chest.

"Is that I've never been in a relationship before. Like, not a real one. Not like this. And I'm just scared I guess. Cuz you're like, a fucking dream." Eddie sighs, Steve smiles.

"And I have a very long history of categorically fucking up everything good that happens to me. And I don't wanna do that here. With you. I want-" Eddie frowns, Steve moves, pulls them to the bed and rolls them, so they're facing each other.

"What do you want?" Steve asks, his fingers moving over Eddie's forhead, soothing the frown and then moving into his hair.

"I want you. I want to keep you." Eddie worries at his lip, Steve moves his thumb over it, drags it from between Eddie's teeth and soothes over the hurt.

"I wanna keep you too. We don't have to do anything right now. I just needed to be with you. After today." Steve says, shrugs his shoulder and curls closer.

"We can just- do this? Just be together?" Eddie asks, hesitant, his eyes falling closed as Steve hums,

"Mhm. We can just hold each other." Steve moves his fingers deeper into Eddie's hair, pulls him to his chest. Eddie clings to him, arms wrapped tight, hears that fucking rumble in Steve's chest again.

"Are you actually purring or does it just sound like it?" Eddie mumbles sleepily into Steve's chest. He feels him laugh, feels him pull Eddie impossibly closer.

"Hopper refuses to call it that. But I like it. I've only done it once before today though." Steve sighs, Eddie perks up, rests his chin on his arms and looks at Steve.

"When was the other time?" Eddie asks, eyes blinking slowly. Steve reaches up, tucks Eddie's hair behind his ear.

"With my friend Robin. You know her. From band." Eddie nods. Steve nods back.

"Yeah well. I came out to her last year and she was so excited, and happy, and accepting. She made me a cake. I mean it was terrible. But she made it just for me." Steve laughs, Eddie smiles down at him, waiting for more.

"And after, she told me she was proud of me. And that she loved me. And that's when it happened. I think it happens when you find your people. Like, my wolf just knows, when it's right." Steve's eyes won't stay on him, and he looks nervous again.

"She's like your platonic soulmate huh?" Eddie asks, pushing his finger around Steve's chest, drawing little nothings here and there. But he feels the tension leave Steve, feels him relax underneath him.

"Yeah. She is." He nods, eyes locked on Eddie now, his are shining with tears. Eddie nods, scoots a little closer, further up Steve's chest.

"I have one too. Jeff. He's in Hellfire with me. We're like two trippy peas in a far out pod." Steve scrunches his nose, lifts his head and kisses Eddie, sweet and soft.

"Thanks for understanding." Steve breathes.

"Sure. Give me enough time and I can understand anything. That ones easy though. I'm glad you have someone like that too." Eddie drops back down onto Steve's chest, gets comfy.

An hour later Steve manhandles him onto his side and presses up against his back, arms wrapped around Eddie like vines, keeping him close. Eddie shivers at being tossed around, even more at being held like he's something precious. He feels Steve smirk into his neck, feels that rumble again.

He smiles into Steve's arm, presses his lips to his skin and lets himself fall asleep, feeling loved, and wanted, and like he belongs to someone.

~°~

Eddie finds out later that Jeff was right. Chrissy absolutely is a vampire. And a good friend of Steve's. Eddie, Steve, and Robin may or may not parent trap them into several ridiculous situations before Chrissy finally tells them her and Jeff have been dating for almost three weeks now.

Eddie swears he knew. Steve can hear him lying. But let's him have it anyway. Robin refuses to let it go and constantly claims that the first time she meddled was three weeks ago which means she got them together which means she wins the bet.

Eddie remains unaware that there was even an actual bet going on. He just thought they were trying to make their friends happy. Steve can hear him telling the truth, and loves him for it.

Steve holds Eddie close almost every night, so so glad he heard Eddie talking at that party. And so so glad he'd told Robin, two weeks before that party, that he was gonna ask Eddie out. That he wanted to keep him forever.

She'd made fun of him of course. Eddie Munson? Really? But Steve had pressed on. Something about that sweet smell drawing him in.

And even after Steve claims him. Even after Eddie is his and no one elses. To Steve, he still smells so sweet, like the first rain of spring. Likes Steve's favorite fruit. Like Steve's. Like home.

#my writing #mine #steddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steve x eddie #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #this got so fucking long oh myyyyy goooodddd #I hope you like it friend!!!#im gonna take a nap now! be back in several hours!!!!#werewolf steve harrington #also a side of #jeff x chrissy #my fic

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italiansteebie · 7 months

Text

steve harrington has a bad habit.

he takes in the dogs and cats no one wants anymore.

he's had elderly dogs, disabled cats, puppies that have grown and lost their sparkle, kittens that had been left in the dumpster. he's taken dogs that families can't handle anymore, and he does it with love. he uses his parents huge house to home animals that deserve it, animals that fill the emptiness.

so what happens after vecna is all said and done, and eddie's dead and gone, and a mangy dog crawls out from under eddie's old trailer while steve's there helping max do some minor repairs? and what happens when steve takes the dog home, names him ozzy, curtsy of eddie taking up every inch of his brain, and nurses the skinny thing back to health, along with the other strays he's taken in.

but ozzy never really liked to be around the other animals, always choosing to curl up next to steve, and maybe it was because he knew how much bigger he was than all of them because, damn. ozzy was a big ass dog.

until one night, steve shoots out of bed, drenched in sweat, chest heaving as he's recovering from a nightmare, and he catches a glimpse of none other than eddie. eddie, who's supposed to be dead. eddie who's supposed to be dead in the upside down, nonetheless, peering at him through his doorway. "what the fuck," he breaths, watching as eddie flinches nervously, "surprise," the metal head cheers flatly.

"what the fuck."

#steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #stranger things #shape shifter #werewolf eddie munson #steddie ficlet #steddie fic #pre steddie #werewolf eddie #shape shifter eddie munson #silly steddie thing #caretaker steve harrington #soft steve harrington #soft steve #steve has nightmares

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sidekick-hero · 2 months

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He runs for his life, his paws hitting the snowy ground with heavy thumps. His flank hurts where the bullet buried itself, but it's distant, drowned out by his instinct to survive. He can't afford to slow down, so he pushes through, letting his instincts carry him as fast as his legs will take him.

His pursuers are only human, not equipped to keep up with a nearly grown wolf. But he's hurt, and he's exhausted, and they have guns.

Part of him wonders why he's even trying to save himself.

They killed the whole village. His parents, his friends, his neighbors. They all burned to death, and those who managed to escape the flames were slaughtered by the hunters. All except him, who managed to escape through the secret tunnels beneath their home, while his parents stayed behind to fight off the invaders.

The Harringtons had been the alphas of their pack, and it was their responsibility to protect the pack with their lives.

None of them deserved to die. No one in their pack had ever hurt a human. They hardly ever saw one, choosing to live as far away from their settlements as possible while still being able to trade with them for the goods they couldn't produce.

It didn't matter to the hunters who came late at night and ambushed them in their sleep. In their eyes, they were monsters. His parents always warned him that humans would never understand them, would always fear them, and fear breeds hatred. Humans couldn't be trusted, they weren't safe.

Back when that meant he couldn't be friends with the daughter of the blacksmith his parents did business with, he refused to believe them. But now it seems that they were always right.

Humans are not to be trusted. They're not safe.

It feels like Steve has been running for hours and still he hears them following him, following his bloody trail. They're not even stealthy, branches snapping, shouts and the occasional gunshot. He's not sure how much longer he can keep going, the pain and exhaustion finally catching up with him.

He's so focused on listening to the hunters behind him that he doesn't really look where he's going, just runs and runs and runs.

Suddenly the world turns upside down, the pain in his flank flares up, white-hot, and then everything goes dark.

He comes to slowly, his senses catching up with reality one by one.

It's warm where he lies, the sharp smell of burning wood heavy in the air. Panic rises in his throat and he can't stop the whine falling from his muzzle, it must mean he didn't make it out after all, he's still trapped in the burning ruins of his home. He's going to die here, burned alive like everyone else he's known since he was a pup.

His ears pick up other sounds over the crackling of a nearby fire. Someone is here, Steve can smell them. Smell him. It's a human, a man. His scent is strong, clinging to the soft blanket Steve can feel beneath him. He's humming a familiar tune, his voice deep and melodic, and Steve can't believe he's about to die with the tune of a nursery rhyme stuck in his head.

Heavy footsteps are coming toward him, and Steve hasn't opened his eyes yet, but he thinks the guy is wearing heavy boots. It's winter, after all, and humans don't run as hot as wolves, completely unprotected from the harshness of the season.

His whole body aches, every limb is heavy, and exhaustion is trying to drag him under again. Steve knows he's in no condition to fight, that he won't last more than a few seconds before the human kills him, but he won't die without a fight. That's not who he is.

So when he feels the human stop in front of him and fall to his knees beside Steve's motionless body, Steve attacks.

Well, he tries. But his body won't cooperate, the pain makes him so dizzy that he almost loses consciousness as he tries to rise enough to sink his teeth into the human's soft flesh. He sinks back down, with pained whimpers he tries to suppress but can't.

"Shh, hey, it's okay, buddy. I'm not gonna hurt you. I promise. I'm trying to help you, but you are gonna have to stay still and let me, okay?"

It doesn't make any sense, none of it, but he's so tired and the voice talking to him sounds so nice, warm and soothing. It makes him want to lie still and let it wash over him. With the last of his strength, he blinks his eyes open to look at the man who is about to end his life, no matter what his alluring voice promises.

The last thing Steve sees before the pain and exhaustion pulls him back under are the man's eyes. They were a rich, dark brown, like melted chocolate under a gentle heat. Their warmth held a soft depth, inviting and comforting, reminiscent of a cozy fireplace on a chilly evening. With each gaze, it was as if the soft flicker of candlelight danced within them, creating an aura of quiet reassurance.

The next time Steve is awake, he feels better. He's still weak, but the bone-deep exhaustion has eased. So has the pain, a dull ache rather than a white-hot agony that sets his nerves on fire. As he comes more and more to himself, his brain clearing the haze of sleep, he takes stock.

He's still alive.

He's still surrounded by the scent of the man who found him.

He's comfortable, a soft surface and blankets beneath him.

He's starving.

As if he heard Steve's thoughts - or more likely his growling stomach - Steve hears the man approaching again. Opening his eyes blearily, Steve sees him standing in the doorway with a plate in his hand, and the smell that hits Steve's nose makes his empty stomach cramp with hunger, and saliva floods his mouth. Roasted chicken, Steve's favorite.

"Look who's awake," the man says, and Steve wonders if he knows who Steve is or if he's one of those guys who talks to animals. He really hopes it's the latter, because that makes his chances of survival at least a little better.

The man takes another two steps towards him, but then stops and looks at him cautiously.

"Okay, last time didn't go so well, huh?" He asks, but Steve thinks it's more rhetorical. "I've got food for you, so please don't bite me? God, it's a good thing Wayne isn't here or he'd think I'd finally lost it, talking to a wolf."

Shaking his head, the man comes closer and Steve takes in his appearance. He doesn't look particularly dangerous, rather slender with dark curls and a pale complexion. He doesn't carry any weapons, but he does have an ugly scar on his face. It must have been a deep cut, and it runs in a jagged line across his cheek.

Steve tries to lift his head when the man is close enough to strike, but he only manages a few inches before sinking back down with a soft whine.

"Hey, hey, hey, you shouldn't move yet, sweetheart. It's a miracle nothing's broken, as far as I can tell, but that bullet really did a number on you, almost like it was poisoned. Bastards to do this to another being."

Silver bullet, Steve thinks. That explains the intense pain and weakness.

Then he forgets all about it the moment the smell of the chicken intensifies as the man reaches out to Steve's muzzle with a large chunk of meat between his fingers. The man, if you can call him that, probably about Steve's age, looks terrified as he does so, but he doesn't stop until Steve can close his teeth around the meat and pull it into his mouth. When the meat is gone, Steve chewing happily and the guy still in possession of all five fingers, his host breathes a sigh of relief.

"Shit, man, that was scary," the man laughs, his dimples popping. He beams at Steve as he hands him another large chunk of chicken.

This human is so weird, Steve thinks. Talking to a wolf like it's a human, chastising hunters for wounding it with what he thinks is a poisoned bullet. Feeding it its own rations by hand, during a harsh winter, no less.

Whatever plan is behind this: Steve doesn't understand it. But he's too weak to think much about it, because as soon as the plate is empty and his stomach comfortably full, Steve sinks back under.

He dreams of soft hands stroking his fur, and of someone softly singing to him the lullaby that his mother used to sing to him when he was a pup and woke up from a nightmare.

It becomes routine as Steve's body fights off the effects of the silver bullet.

The man, whose name was Eddie, as Steve learned during one of the many times he was sort of talking to himself, fed him meat by hand, and sometimes broth and potatoes. Every two days he would also dress his wound, always clicking his tongue at the state of it and muttering about asshole hunters.

Eddie always talked while tending to Steve, at first telling him how his body was healing and what Eddie was doing to help him. But after a while, he began to tell Steve about his days and his chores, regaling Steve with tales of his adventures while gathering firewood or preparing meals for them. It was surprisingly comforting to listen to Eddie talk, his stories always funny and dramatic, with a hint of self-deprecation.

It didn't make sense to Steve why Eddie was doing all this until one night he started talking about his uncle, who had gone to the city to find work to better support them and hadn't been home in months.

It was then that Steve realized that Eddie was lonely.

He'd been alone in that cabin in the middle of the woods for months until he found Steve lying in a ravine and carried him home.

Steve was the closest thing Eddie had to a companion in months.

Knowing that eased some of the apprehension he felt toward Eddie, because it seemed that as long as the man didn't know that Steve wasn't an ordinary wolf, he didn't have to be afraid of him.

Three weeks after Steve first woke up in Eddie's cabin, he manages to get up on weak legs and take a few tentative steps before collapsing again.

Eddie is there to catch him and by then his hands are welcome on Steve's body.

They are always gentle with Steve, stroking his fur and snout, scratching behind his ears just right. Eddie touches him all the time now, and Steve has no idea how he feels about it.

That's not entirely true, he has an inkling of what the warmth means that spreads through his body when Eddie lies down behind him on the mattress he'd put in front of the fireplace so Steve would be warm while he healed. Every night, Eddie would bury his face in Steve's fur right at his neck, a vulnerable place only close members of a pack were ever allowed to put their snouts, and stroke Steve's side and belly with gentle hands until they both drifted off to sleep.

Everything smelled of Eddie. Steve smelled of Eddie.

And Eddie had begun to smell of Steve.

It made his inner wolf purr with satisfaction, and that was such a phenomenally bad idea.

That's why Steve is trying to get back on his feet as quickly as possible, so he can leave before these feelings that have started to grow in his heart get any worse.

Eddie is human.

Humans are not to be trusted. They are not safe.

But Eddie feels safe.

Worse, he is starting to feel a lot like mate, and Eddie has no idea what that even means.

"Careful, Koda. You're still healing. There's no rush, y'know. You can stay here as long as you want, okay? This is your home now, too."

Steve whines softly at the ache in Eddie's voice and licks his neck and face to comfort him. The wet tongue probably tickles because it makes Eddie laugh, and he buries his face in the thick fur at the front of Steve's neck.

And Steve just lets him, lets him press his mouth against his throat while he nuzzles behind Eddie's ear and breathes in his scent.

Steve is fucked.

It all comes to a head a few weeks later.

Steve is now back on his feet and uses his new mobility to follow Eddie around and keep him company while he does his chores, often dozing next to him while he cooks or chops wood or sorts through their rapidly dwindling supplies. Soon Eddie will have to go hunting to keep them stocked with meat, and Eddie hates the thought. He doesn't want to hurt another creature.

That's why Steve decides to go hunting for his human. He can provide for him.

A week later, he leaves in the middle of the night, carefully slipping out of Eddie's arms around him and trotting through the little door that Eddie built into his door so that Steve could relieve himself whenever he needed to.

It goes better than Steve expected, his muscles still not back to where they used to be, but stronger and faster than he would have thought after weeks of lying around. He follows the tracks of a deer for almost an hour before he finally finds it. The hunt itself is short, the wind comes from the right direction, and the deer clearly doesn't sense him until it's too late.

Steve kills it as quickly and painlessly as possible, sure that Eddie would want him to. He thinks he would do anything to make Eddie happy.

When Steve comes back from the woods, he's dragging the deer's body with his snout, wishing he could just shift back into his human body because it would be so much easier with his hands. But the shift takes a lot out of an already weakened body, and he can't risk it. In a few weeks it will be as easy as breathing again, he's sure of that, but right now it could be a serious setback in his recovery.

He can already see the cabin through the trees when he hears Eddie's voice calling for him. He sounds panicked and Steve immediately drops his prey to run to his mate.

Eddie is not even wearing a jacket, his breath coming out in clouds of condensed air as he stumbles through the glittering snow, calling for Koda.

He calls for his wolf with panicked tears in his voice and Steve barrels into him without a second's hesitation. Eddie falls to the ground, his arms full of Steve, his hands clutching Steve's fur as if he's afraid this is a dream and Steve will disappear again.

"Koda? Oh my God, where the hell have you been? I was worried sick. I thought you just disappeared." Eddie sits up, his arms never letting go of where they are wrapped around Steve, and Steve can smell the tears on his face. He carefully licks them away as more and more follow. "Please don't leave me, please, please, please," Eddie keeps begging him, his whole body shaking and Steve wants to shift so badly. He wants to take his mate in his arms and hold him, soothe his pain and fear and promise him that he'll never leave him.

So even though he knows better, he does.

One moment Eddie is holding a big, brown wolf in his arms, and the next he is holding a very human, very naked man in his lap.

If Steve wasn't scared to death of how Eddie will react, he would laugh at the high-pitched squeal Eddie lets out when he realizes what has happened.

"Hi," Steve says, waving at Eddie with fluttering fingers. Not his smoothest moment, but to be fair, this isn't how he usually approaches someone he's attracted to. For once he is usually wearing a lot more clothes.

"Uhhh, hi?" Eddie asks, stunned. "Who... Wait, not important right now. Where is my wolf? My Koda. I just got him back."

Steve is pretty sure that Eddie must be in shock and not thinking clearly, but it warms his heart how attached he is to Steve's wolf. He hopes he can get him to like his human side just as much.

Deciding it's best to just come clean with Eddie, Steve exclaims, "Tada," and does a very silly imitation of jazz hands.

Eddie just blinks at him with big eyes.

Okay, Plan B it is, Steve thinks. "I'm him. I'm Koda. Or, well, no, I'm Steve, but you couldn't know that. But, um, yeah, I'm your wolf?" Steve cringes at the your, but it's too late to take it back, and besides, he really wants to be Eddie's wolf.

He wants to be Eddie's everything.

"I knew it!"

Eddie's sudden outburst startles Steve so much that he almost falls off Eddie's lap before Eddie's arms tighten around him.

"Sorry, sorry. It's just... my mom told me about wolves that could turn into humans. She used to tell me stories about how they used to be the protectors of villages and towns, the friends and companions of humans, before some humans turned against them, jealous of the admiration and status they had with the villagers, and drove them away. Mama said that when a wolf chooses you as a mate, you are blessed for life. She always wanted to meet one of you."

Steve knows about Eddie's mother, another story he told Steve under the protective cover of night as they lay on their mattress, Steve's fur soaking up Eddie's tears as he talked about losing his mother when he was only ten.

"Aren't you afraid of me?" Steve still has to ask, his heart beating as fast as the wings of a bird taking flight.

Eddie looks at him as if the thought had never occurred to him. "Afraid of you? Koda... I mean, Stevie, can I call you Stevie?" at Steve's nod Eddie continues, "Are you going to hurt me?"

Now it's Steve's turn to look at Eddie in disbelief. "What? No! Never! Eddie, I promise I would never hurt you. I just thought that you..."

"That I would hurt you if I found out what you are?" Eddie asks quietly, his thumb stroking Steve's collarbone.

"Yes," Steve admits in a low voice. "But not anymore."

"No?" He sounds so hopeful when he asks this, so trusting in the way he holds Steve in his arms, even after learning of Steve's true nature. Steve smiles down at the man who saved him, who tended to him, who cared for him.

His human.

His mate, if Eddie will let him. Steve thinks he might.

"No, I feel safe with you."

Eddie's answering smile is blinding, and Steve has to kiss him, right here in the snow, sitting buck naked in Eddie's lap, the morning sun bathing them in its hopeful light.

#steddie #steddie fanfiction #werewolf steve harrington #human eddie munson #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steddielovemonth #day 10 #love is feeling safe #my writing

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neonghostlights · 8 months

Text

Fuckboy!werewolf!Eddie Munson x Fem!reader

Based off my little drabble here.

Warnings: Eddie gets called a man-whore (not by reader), mates, cussing, mention of almost hitting an animal with your car (doesn't happen but almost does), parental and grandparent death (readers whole family is dead) 18+ only, minors dni

Wordcount: 3.9k

Series masterlist

Hawkins was fucking weird.

You should have taken the hint when you stopped by the lone gas station about an hour before reaching the town and asked the clerk for directions to make sure you were going the right way. He laughed at you like you were joking as soon as the question left your mouth. When he eventually figured out by your blank faced expression that you were indeed dead serious about trying to get to Hawkins, he gave the directions you needed with a quick “good luck with that.”

You’d be lying if you said his words didn’t make you second guess this move. But now that you had arrived at your destination and mostly settled into your small home at the edge of the town, it just seemed like a normal place. It was a small town with everyone seeming to already know everybody, leaving you the odd man out. Everyone that you had come across so far was mostly kind to you and welcoming considering the circumstances.

Your aunt used to own the home you had now taken residence in. She passed suddenly, leaving you as the only living descendant to inherit her things. You almost sold it off, but for some reason the town of Hawkins called to you, making you think that maybe it was meant to be. Before you knew it you were packing up your things, quitting your job at a grocery store, and making the sudden and long drive.

Your new home was a double wide trailer that sat on a secluded piece of land. Your aunt seemed to really like her privacy. There were no other homes for miles. The trees and forest surrounding your expansive yard gave you enough privacy to walk outside naked if you wanted to with no worries of anyone ever seeing you.

You had never met your aunt before. You had been raised solely by your grandparents since your mother passed and your father wasn’t ever in the picture.

You knew your aunt suddenly left their home young, leaving your mother and grandparents behind, and never looked back. But you never knew the details behind it. You always thought it was odd when you were younger since you thought your grandparents and mom were the best people ever. But now as an adult you could see how some people needed independence.

Even if that independence was a secluded house in a small town that literally no one else has ever heard of.

You stared out the car window at the rain that started last night and never let up. Your windshield wipers squeaked furiously as they rushed back and forth on the highest setting. You were already parked in your work parking lot, preparing yourself for the run you were going to have to make into the building.

Water sloshed up the legs of your jeans as your rain boots splashed through every puddle that you couldn’t seem to avoid. You were drenched by the time you made it to the door. The bell on the handle dinged at your arrival and you wiped your boots against the mat furiously even though you knew it wouldn’t do any good.

“Hey!” Jessie called as she peeked her head around a shelf.

You waved in response and made your way behind the counter and threw your bags underneath of it. You had been working at Bee’s Books for a month now and you liked it so far. You were hired on the spot when you came in asking for a job application, the owner was impressed by you and desperate enough to practically throw the job at you.

It was a large store, surprising for the size town it resided in. You fell for the charm of it and the employee discount you got on all of your book purchases.

“I thought Tina was working with us today too?” You asked as you snapped your name badge in place over your sweater.

“She is,” Jessie said as she dropped the stack of books onto the counter. “She’s in the back doing something. You wanna put these up for me in the fantasy section while I put these in young adult?”

You nodded, picking up the stack of books and making your way to their designated section. The stack was thick and heavy, already making your arm ache only seconds after picking them up. You set your chin on top of it to better hold it in place as you walked through the rows of shelves.

Jessie and Tina were nice and all, but you had a feeling Jessie liked to dictate jobs at you that she didn’t feel like doing. You already guessed that she would probably be up at the counter giggling with Tina instead of putting away the other stack of books like she said she would.

It was hard being new in a town where the people all grew up together. You felt like an outsider, like everyone was being nice to your face and then whispering behind your back as you walked past. You wondered if part of that was because your aunt was eccentric.

You slowly shoved the books into their designated spots on the shelf, not rushing to get back up to the front. If you were honest, you would live in a book store if you could. When you were young your mom used to bring you to the library that was down the street from your grandparents house every saturday. You would both spend hours flipping through the fantasy section with not a care in the world.

After she died, those visits to the library became more lonely but you still did it because you enjoyed it so much.

You heard the bell ding from the front door and the chatter between the two girls up front stop suddenly.

The hair on the back of your neck started to rise and a chill broke out on your arms.

You blamed your clothes still wet from the rain. You rolled your shoulders back, trying to calm your sudden chill before reaching for another book from the stack cradled in your left arm.

You could hear the sound of wet sneakers against the carpeted floors approaching, along with the sound of enthusiastic chattering. You couldn’t hear Tina and Jessie up front anymore and you assumed it was because they were off helping customers.

The sound of whoever was approaching got closer and you turned and faced the shelf again, hoping they wouldn’t need anything from you. You weren’t the best at the customer interaction side of this job and would rather hide behind the shelves than talk to someone.

You heard the sound of the walking stop but the chattering of a younger voice kept going in a one sided conversation.

You glanced up, offering a polite smile. A teenager stood there, looking no older than fifteen. He had curly hair with a round face and dimples. He spoke enthusiastically to the person standing beside him, not caring that he was being ignored.

You looked over to the person he was with to see his eyes were already on you. He had long brown hair and dark eyes that reminded you of melted chocolate. His skin was pale but you could just barely make out the light dusting of freckles across his nose if you focused as hard as you were right now.

He dressed in all black, from his leather jacket to his shirt, jeans and thick boots. His hands were decorated with chunky metal rings that reminded you of costume jewelry. He let out a woosh of air from his lungs as he reached out to the wooden shelf beside him. The rings thudded against the wood as he grasped it so tightly that you thought it might splinter. He wobbled slightly, almost as if he was drunk.

His full lips were slightly parted as he kept staring at you.

You wished you could set down the stack of books somewhere so you could rub your arms in an attempt to fight the goosebumps plaguing up and down your skin.

The boy beside him stopped talking, looking up at his friend with confusion.

“Eddie? What’s wrong?” The boy asked with concern, nudging his friend's arm.

Eddie, which was apparently his name, didn’t react to his friend's touch. He continued staring at you with a look you couldn’t decipher and it made the goosebumps spread across your skin with a vengeance.

“Are you okay?” You asked him, wondering if you should yell for Tina or Jessie to call an ambulance.

He blinked a few times at the sound of your voice, seeming to have been pulled from whatever trance he was in.

His friend tugged on his arm. “Eddie?”

He pried his eyes away from yours to look at his boy. He released his tight grip on the shelf and you realized his full body was trembling. You wondered if he was cold too.

He didn’t say anything as he quickly turned and rushed away from you, leaving his friend behind.

The boy let out a small, “oh.” as he stared at you with a wide eyed look. The look of shock didn’t last long before his open mouth spread into a smug looking wide smile. His face changing from shock to joy in a heartbeat.

“Sorry about that,” he said, not sounding sorry at all.

He backed away slowly, still with a smile on his face while you stared at him in confusion.

“It was very nice to meet you. I’m Dustin,” he said before turning around and running in the same direction as Eddie.

You blinked a few times, trying to process what the hell just happened. Your eyes met with Tina’s who was peeking around the shelf with an annoyed look on her face. She rolled her eyes and made her way back to the front.

“What the hell?” you said out loud, talking to only the books. Confused on what had just happened in the past few minutes.

You put the rest of the books away, heading to the front of the store to see if Tina and Jessie needed help with anything.

They were huddled beside each other at the counter, leaned close and whispering frantically in hushed tones. Tina’s hands were waving in the air. You wondered what had happened to piss her off.

They didn’t look up until you were behind the counter and grabbing more books to put away. You noticed them sharing a look with eachother out of the corner of your eyes before Jessie turned towards you.

“Hey. What did Eddie Munson say to you back there?” Jessie asked, her voice going higher in false politeness. It reminded you of the customer service tone she used when a customer was asking too many questions or messing up a perfectly designed display.

“Uh, nothing?” You shrugged while stacking the books onto the cart. There was no way you were carrying all of these this time.

“Well, it looked like something happened,” Tina snapped, not bothering to be nice at all.

You looked up at her in confusion. Jessie and Tina had never acted like this towards you before. Tina’s eyes were red and watery, like she was on the verge of crying and it made you feel bad.

“Nothing happened. He didn’t even say anything to me. He just stared at me for a second and then walked away,” you offered, hoping this would make things normal again so you could just do your job and then go home.

Jessie rubbed a soothing hand up and down Tina’s back.

“See. I told you,” she cooed, trying to make her friend feel better.

You set down the book you were holding.

“I’m confused,” you admitted. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No,” Jessie offered with a small smile, still rubbing Tina’s back as she placed her head in her hands. “Eddie Munson is just a jerk is all.”

“Oh. Yeah. He did seem kind of rude,” you admitted, not really caring for this conversation much at all.

Tina snapped her head up and stared at you with narrow eyes.

“I thought you said he didn’t say anything to you,” she wailed.

Jessie shot you a look, silently telling you to shut up.

“He didn’t!” You exclaimed, feeling the need to defend yourself. “He just stood there and walked away!”

Tina nodded, wiping underneath her eyes with the tissue Jessie handed her.

“What’s the big deal about him anyways?” You questioned, needing to know the story behind this to ease your own curiosity.

“He’s a man-whore. He makes girls feel special and then just dumps them after he gets what he wants. If you’ve talked to any girl in this town then he’s slept with them,” Jessie said, sounding like she was telling a story about the boogeyman and not just some guy that wears a lot of black and stares at people in weird ways.

You wanted to ask Jessie if she was included on the list of girls Eddie Munson had fucked over but you wanted peace for the rest of the day.

You couldn’t help the sudden feeling of disappointment that settled into your gut at the information you had learned. It wasn’t like you knew him since he literally didn’t say at word to you and the whole interaction was weird but for some reason your brain had told you that he was harmless. Your chest felt strange, like the feeling of seeing your crush holding someone else's hand. Which was weird, because although Eddie Munson was beautiful you had only seen him for a few seconds. Surely not long enough to form any attachment.

He was a stranger.

“I’m sorry, Tina.He sounds like a real asshole,” you said wholeheartedly. You meant it. It seemed like Eddie Munson had truly broken the poor girl's heart.

What an asshole.

Tina sniffled, nodding in agreement.

“So, if I were you I’d stay far away from him,” Jessie warned, sounding more like a threat.

“Trust me,” you sighed, “I am definitely not interested.”

You grabbed the handles on the cart, pulling it away from the awkward conversation. Tina and Jessie started whispering again as soon as you walked away.

The rain was pouring harder than it was earlier.

You were contemplating making a run for it to get to the dry safety of your car but you couldn’t bring yourself to move from under the awning that hung over the store's front door.

It was dark out now, night time coming in behind the gloomy rain clouds. The lights of the parking lot could only illuminate so much with the heavy gushes of rain coming down.

Jessie came out of the door behind you, jumping slightly as she noticed you.

You smiled awkwardly, the air still feeling weird from earlier.

Jessie and Tina had kept to themselves for the rest of the day. You didn’t mind, enjoying the solitude of stacking books on your own or taking inventory.

Tina had already gone home, running to her car as soon as she finished her last task. She got lucky with there being a break in the rain when she left. You wished you had hurried out at the same time as her.

Jessie stuck around though to finish counting the register, saying that she had a family member coming to pick her up so she wouldn’t have to drive in the weather. She had even asked your boss if her car would be okay in the parking lot overnight.

“Why are you still here?” She asked as she came up beside you.

“Not ready to go through the rain. Hoping it’ll lighten up soon,” you shrugged, wrapping your arms around yourself tighter.

Jessie nodded, looking out at the parking lot and the street before it expectantly.

About fifteen minutes pass by with you both standing in silence. Water dripped from the awning and splashed at your feet rhythmically. Neither of you said anything about it or made any attempt to move.

The rain hitting the pond that used to be the parking lot was the only sound to be heard.

You wanted to leave so bad. You just wanted to say screw it and sprint for your car to brave the drive home. But you didn’t feel right leaving Jessie here by herself in the bad weather and darkness.

“Do you want me to drive you home so you don’t have to wait any later?” You asked, checking your watch to see how far it had passed since closing time.

You just wished the rain would lighten up now so you could just leave and go curl up in your bed with one of your new books.

Jessie shook her head, face falling as each car passed the parking lot without turning in.

The rain finally lightened to a drizzle and you groaned in relief. You stepped out from under the awning, turning back to check on Jessie.

She stepped out from under the awning too, following you to where your cars were parked.

“Guess he isn’t coming. Asshole,” you heard her mutter before she climbed into her car and pulled away.

The rain finally stopped the next day.

You woke up bright and early on your day off, much earlier than you really wanted to be up.

You dressed for the day, needing to run some of your aunt's things to the storage unit in town.

When you had moved in, there was an abundance of stuff everywhere. After living here for a month, you had managed to pack it all into boxes and take it to the storage unit until you could find the time to go through it and decide what you wanted to keep or donate.

You had a feeling you would end up donating it all like you did with your grandparents things, except the sentimental stuff of course.

Your aunt liked to collect figurines and paintings of the woods and wildlife. You thought it was odd, since she quite literally lived in a home that was surrounded by woods and all she had to do if she missed it was just look outside.

The paintings were of various animals, a few bears, a duck or two but the largest painting she had was of a large gray wolf.

The painting was massive and in a thick dark wood frame that matched the wooden paneling on the walls. It took up most of the living room just behind the couch, positioned in a way where you would have no choice but to make eye contact with it as soon as you walked in the door.

You took it down the day you moved in. The yellow eyes painted onto the beast seemed to follow you with every step you took in the trailer.

So you were getting rid of it.

It had spent its time since you moved in with it propped against the wall with a sheet draped over it. You decided today was the day to finally drag it out to your car and pray that it fit into the backseat.

You propped the front door and screen door open with the heaviest boot you had and grabbed the painting to drag it outside.

You got it halfway through the door when something on your front porch had you pausing.

At your feet, on the wooden planks that made up the porch were large muddy paw prints. Whatever animal it had come from was massive. The prints were larger than your own hand, making your shiver a the realization that whatever it was came right to your front door when you were blissfully unaware in your bed.

Despite the sun shining, you now had an ominous feeling in your spine.

You quickly pushed the painting back inside, letting the doors fall shut behind you..

You’d take the painting tomorrow instead.

You got off work again when it was dark.

Thankfully there was no rain this time.

You were able to scrub the paw prints off your porch and take the painting to the storage unit this morning before work.

After discovering the muddy prints at your doorstep the day before, you locked yourself in your house and rethought your move to Hawkins.

You had spent all last night tossing and turning in your bed in fear of what could be lurking outside. You had probably gotten up and checked the lock on the front door at least five times before finally dozing off into a restless sleep.

But you had made it through the night and when you checked outside this morning only the old paw prints remained with no new signs of your visitor.

You turned down the curvy road to head to your side of town.

Today had gone back to normal with Tina and Jessie back to their normal selves with no talk of the guy that had broken Tina’s heart.

Now that you were farther from the center of town, there were more trees and less houses. You were the only car on the road, the last headlights you had seen were a few miles back.

You were so close to your home when you saw something large run through the road.

You slammed on your brakes, the tires locking up and squealing as the car skidded and stopped with a jerk.

Your heart raced as you tried to calm down. Your eyes scanned the road, looking for whatever it was that was just there.

You slammed your hand on the off button on your radio, silencing The Rolling Stones abruptly.

Through the flickering headlights, you could make out something standing on the left side of the road. It slowly stalked into view until you were leaning back in your seat, frozen from fear.

It was the biggest damn wolf you had ever seen in your life. And it was standing right infront of your car, staring straight into your eyes.

It was hard to see in the poor lighting, but its coat was somewhere between a midnight black and a chocolate brown. It was tall, taller than your car. It kept its head hunkered down low to look at you in the driver's seat.

You wondered if you should break eye contact but you were pretty sure that you had seen somewhere that you were supposed to act like you were bigger when you came face to face with a wild animal.

Although you were in your car, you were sure that if it wanted to get you it could. Hell, you were sure that it could crush this thing with a flick of its tail if it wanted to.

A loud howl came from the right of your car. You jumped, foot easing off the brake and making the car lurch forward. You slammed your foot back down, stopping the car before it could hit the animal.

The wolf blinked a few times, not even flinching. It turned, slowly stalking to the right side of the road and giving you time to move.

You felt its eyes on you as you sped off past it.

Yeah, Hawkins was really fucking weird.

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