#I keep listening to it like I'm going to desenitise myself to it
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Monster Au? - Part 5
partone parttwo partthree partfour II partsix TW: Panic attacks, references to past/current child abuse, a little bit of body horror (as always), mentions of disordered eating. ---
Steve whines loud and distressed even with his Mama cooing into his hair, his sides hurt- and he wants Dad too. But Dad isnât here- and itâs not safe.Â
Sheâs running her fingers through his hair, he knows sheâs trying to calm him into shifting down, making himself his shapeless form. He canât heâs not supposed to be and, and everything hurts- and-Â
âShhh, come on Baby. Itâs okay, just relax itâs okay. Mamaâs right here.â She clicks, and Steve pressed his face harder against her stomach, tucking his legs up. Mama dragged her fingers through his hair, cooing and talking softly.Â
The door cracked open, and another body joined them on the bed. Steve curled towards his Dad like he was the sun. Big hands pressed against his skin- âHey Bubba, deep breaths.â And Steve listened, sucked in a sharp breath, hard enough to start coughing. If Steve had thought his sides had hurt before they burned now, he whined, the noise scraping across a throat that wasnât used to making any kind of noise. Mama crooned, and Dad just, Dad just rubbed circles against his skin, over the edges of his spine. Over the scarring over road burns on his back. Down each visible knot of his bones, the way his skin was pulled taunt over a frame that it wasnât built for. Steve sobbed, his body wrung out, exhausted despite the hours of actual sleep he had gotten for the first time in probably years.
Everything hurt, and he just wanted it to stop.Â
His ears were ringing, and his head hurt, Steve choked on a sob. A hand cupped the back of his head, curling through his hair, Dad- Steve whined, pressing into the touch, craving the soft affection, deprived and desperate. Please, please- he warbled, pressing his face further against his Mamaâs stomach.Â
They were talking, he could tell, not that he could hear them, or understand them even if he wanted to. Everything was supposed to be safe, and now it wasnât- and the house was violated- and he just wanted everything to be normal.Â
Steve didnât want to be like this, didnât want to live like this. Maybe, maybe if he was human it wouldn't hurt so much, the isolation, and lashing out. He let out a soft cry, his lungs rattling at the force of his distress. He felt like someone had shoved him against something too hot, too warm.Â
Lips were pressed against his ear, and Steve wished, wished he could understand- before.
Fingers closed around the back of his neck, pressure. It was, scruffed. His mind went empty, his mouth opened soundlessly. His Mama was still running her hands through his hair, lengthening hair, curling down his neck a little more, over his face. His body falling limp under the gentle pressure of his Dadâs big hands on the back of his neck. Ears still ringing, but the comfort was pleasant and- and, and familiar. Steve was a frantic child, anxious and nervous. He cried easily, which wasn't that un-normal for young shapeshifters, dependent on parents, and gathered pack, Cubs were normally shuffled away for years before anyone outside of a close knit group would ever see them.
It was harder for Steve when he was really small, carried a lot, scruffed when tears and panic couldnât be quelled with words. If the body and mind were distressed enough, it would calm, a simple level of pressure around the back of his neck.
Steve cooed, the first comfort noise heâd let out in months. It soothed over the rough treatment of his throat, he cooed again, letting out a soft click, relaxing down against the bed. His fingers curling and uncurling.
His body relaxed for the first time in months, slipping shapeless and more monsterish. Steve hummed, shifting his face against the warmth of his parents and blinked sluggishly.Â
Mind pleasantly quiet. It was just as easy to fall asleep as it had been last night, fuzzy around the edges, calm. Empty of anxiety. Sure Steve knows logically he was about to have several uncomfortable conversations with his parents, and the anxiety was going to come back. And Everything would be bad, because the Party- Pack, was going to be so fucking upset with him. Steve would be lucky if they even wanted anything to do with him ever again-Â
But, his Dad gave his neck another gentle squeeze.Â
It was fine right now, it was fine, and it would continue to be fine because his parents were here, and theyâd make sure it was fine. ---
It had been three weeks since anyone had seen Steve.Â
Robin had been inconsolable. Eddie wasnât fairing much better.Â
The Harringtonâs where staying in town indefinitely apparently, their fancy as hell car seen around town. Eddie only really knows all of this because the Kids wonât stop bitching about how they wonât leave so they can go back to the house. No matter how many times someone tells them that they canât go back.Â
Shit, Eddie had to bodily remove Dustin from the Hopper-Byerâs house for being a dick to Hopper for no reason. Loud and angry, yelling about how they canât just lose their spot, and why did they even leave, it was theirs.Â
Eddie doesnât think that any of the kids get that Hopper could have been murdered in that house. That they didnât see just how not human the Harringtonâs had appeared. Almost half feral and more than ready to kill for their baby.
He glances at the group of adults sitting around the small table in the kitchen. Their voices were low, but- Eddie makes eye contact with Wayne, who stares back at him for a long moment before jerking his head in the most come here motion Eddieâs seen his uncle make to this date. Heâs quiet, moving in the room, at least of all the whole group in the living room goes back up in arms over something that isnât an easy fix.Â
Joyceâs mouth snaps shut the second she catches sight of him, and Eddie rolls his eyes a little, sinking down slightly to rest his arms over the back of his uncle's chair. âYeah Pops?â Eddie stares at Hopper over the top of Wayneâs head. Wayne grunts, lifting his head slightly, just slightly- to look up at him. âHowâs Harrington doinâ?â Thereâs a tone in his voice, rough but also defiant. Hopper growls, the noise quiet, but enough that his displeasure at Wayneâs question is known. Eddie snorts softly.Â
His Uncle was older than probably anyone in this town. Wayne wasnât even a part of âThe Packâ not really, and he was only here because Eddie asked him to be. Well, because Hopper wanted another opinion on what to do about the whole âHarrington Family, and Houseâ Situation. And Murray had been very loud in his displeasure at their actions.Â
The Human had yelled loud enough that the whole house had been set off. Ranting on about laws, and how they could literally face so many legal issues due to their actions against Steve. The Harringtonâs had a lot of power. A lot.Â
Hopper had yelled back, it ended with Murray shouting about how they didnât even know what kind of Creature- Supernatural Steve even was. And depending on that, there would be fucking hell to pay.
They all wanted to go back into the house, the kids were just being shits about it.
Eddie twisted his head to the side, he unfocussed on the boyâs in the living room. For a moment, he was a little overwhelmed by the almost sudden silence, but latched on to what he remembered Steveâs heartbeat sounding like. It was a steady thump against his ears.Â
A little fast, but given that the boy was almost always anxious- it was a good sound. Some of the tension in his shoulders he didnât even realize was there soothed out. Eddie hadnât given himself the chance, or even the thought of checking in on Steve. Anger burning under his skin, but now-Â
He slumped forwards a bit more. âSounds good. Better,â He ran his tongue over his teeth, pushing flat against the sharpness of his canines. Eddie works his jaw, thinking over, focusing a little more on the faint thump. âItâs better than I remember it being.âÂ
Which really doesnât say anything, Eddie focused in when Steve was dying, and clearly heâs been dying this entire time. So yeah, Steveâs heart beat is incredibly strong compared to what it had been three weeks ago. âWhyâd ya wanna know Pops?â Wayne for all his years, and for all he puts up with Eddie, always makes that face when Eddie mimics some of Wayneâs accent.Â
Or maybe he made that face because he doesnât want to share with the rest of the table. âI just remember the Elder Harrington Boys beinâ rather cruel pair in School. Worried about the boy sâall.â Eddie blinked at his Uncle but nodded, that made sense. Part of him curled guilt, hot, angry.Â
Steve felt so outcasted, so desperate for affection- that he possibly put himself in danger by calling for his parents. Steveâs heart gives a soft thump against his ears, if he focuses enough he feels like he should be able to hear the younger boyâs laugh. Ghost over his ears, make them twitch.Â
Eddieâs chest feels empty when he realizes he canât even really remember what it sounded like. Canât remember the last time he heard it.Â
âCould mean nothing,â He shrugs, making eye contact with Hopper across the table. âI mean, he might be, fine. Or the steady heartbeat is because we arenât stressing him out so badly heâs self isolating.â Eddieâs not bitter. Not really, he canât be mad at Hop, this isnât his fault, and itâs certainly not Eddieâs. Sure itâs a group collaborative effort that they apparently all banded together to accidentally try and kill Steve-
All the blame isnât going to fall on one person, no matter what Dustin wants to think. Steve was dying. From what they have gathered, Steveâs of course some kind of Supernatural. What kind, they really donât fucking know. Heâs not a Witch, they are all far too human for that.
Something a little less human, from the sounds, to the reactions- the noise Steve made when his mother opened that door. The clicking- Steve had hidden himself away to die, like a cat does when they know it's time. And they were going to let him. Because they were too caught up in thinking Steve was human. Eddie was too angry to even think about the fact that Steve smelled so distinctly like death- and sickness. Too used to the scent clinging to him- to his skin, to his blood, to his heart.Â
âI still donât see why we canât approach the Harringtonâs.â Joyceâs voice is quiet, sheâs human enough to get away with not knowing everything the rest of them do. Eddieâs kind of jealous of the Witches in their group, they arenât as torn up about the loss of the House as the rest of them are. But heâs grinding his teeth flat every time they try and offer what they think is an easy and viable solution.
Hopper makes a grunt-like noise, âItâs not that easy Joy. The Harringtonâs have every right to kill me if I even get close to the house.â Hopper takes a deep breath, âAnd Iâd let him.â Itâs there, that point. They know, theyâve failed Steve. And it seems only a handful of people really want to accept that fact.Â
It took Hopper a little, heâs still rougher about it, gruff and very Chief-like about it. But Eddie thinks he gets that just Hopper realizing heâs failed Steve.Â
However Eddie has to hear âFriends donât tell Liesâ one more fucking time about Steve not telling them he was supernatural. He was going to start biting people. Better yet! Maybe actually sacrifice something to a higher power. Just to the kids to shut the fuck up. Better, better yet! Eddie might just kill Mike, just because.Â
They sit in silence for a long moment.
Eddie stares at his hands, curled over the back of his uncle's chair. At the adults trying to pick apart the situation. âWhat, what if we didnât bother with the house right now. Sure, it would be nice to go back.â Not really, Eddie can almost still smell the ghost of the depression that coated the surface of everything the second you left the communal living areas. âBut, I-â Everyone is just looking at him. âIâd rather be talking to Steve again, than go back to that house. Itâs not like we, you, donât have space.â The Byers-Hopper house was more than big enough, they didnât need all the extra rooms of the Harrington house, they didnât need the room, not really. Eddie taps his lips with his shortened fangs.
Murray, who was surprisingly silent, for all that Eddie knows about the human. âNo one in this house is getting back into the Harringtonâs Home.â His voice was dry, but strangely firm. Lacking its regular holier than thouâ tone, Eddie stared at him for a long moment. âLegally or otherwise. The Harrington brood are mean, and vicious. With or without the high paid lawyers. Digging I can do to figure out what kind of Monster Iâm working with here, but thereâs not enough dirt I can dig up for that Shitshow. Not if I want to get out of it with my life, and I am rather attached to my life.âÂ
Hopper snorts, and Joyce laughs. Both noises are a little bitter. But at this point in these people's lives, after what Eddie has seen, they are a little entitled to bitterness. His tongue is heavy, anger is coating his teeth he canât stand it- and his gums itch. âRussians of various origins, but unknown Supernatural is the line?â Joyceâs tone was teasing, but also sharper. Eddie wouldnât want to do anything like that either. Theyâd already tested the limits, especially Steveâs limits.
Murray scoffed, âYes, because Russians are all distinctly the same, they want to kill me. Supernatural? With unknown origins, I didnât sign up for that shit. Not outside crossing dimensions.â No one said anything for a moment, and Eddie shifted. Listening to the thump of Steveâs pulse a little more. It was a faint noise from the distance, and sure. Eddie would never be able to actually track it. Not like this.Â
But it was nice to actually feel like he could still listen to it. Eddie doesnât want to say how many nights he spent listening to it before going to bed. He works his jaw again, grinding his teeth together. Wayne shot him a look, and he paused. Right, he ducked his head, bangs falling in his face to hide behind. Eddie picked at the wood on the back of the chair, running his bitten down nails over the chipping gloss on the chair.
Wayne taps his leg, and Eddie draws his attention back up. âBuckleyâs too-â His uncle works his jaw, Eddie can tell his teeth never touch. âHysterical,â Eddie snorts, just slightly, the drawl of his voice, and the way Wayne shapes it around his teeth. âabout itâall.â Eyes are on his skin, and it feels like they are trying to worm their ways into his skin. âBut Eds, Steve might, might- letya around.âÂ
He gives a slow nod, Wayneâs not asking in a way back into the house, heâs telling Eddie this in a make sure Steveâs going to be okay when his parents leave, way. Not alone and dying without anyone knowing, way. Eddie wouldnât even let any of these people in this house use that against him. Not against Steve, not in this way- never in any way actually. Imprinting is special. And Steve probably knows Eddieâs imprinted on him anyway. Supernatural and all, even if heâs never actually acted like heâs imprinted on Steve.Â
A mistake, a mistake that Eddie desperately needs to rectify. To fix. Un-fuck up. âImprinted.â Murray says, and Eddie hisses, low at the tone. The bald man tends to have a rather crashness, when it comes down to it. And while Eddie appreciates it, he doesnât in this sense. âThat could work.â Eddie gnashes his teeth, standing up, Wayne makes an aggressive, displeased noise. Clearly whatever Murray is implying wasnât what his uncle was going to talk about.
Murray looks unphased, but Hopperâs tensed, and so has Joyce. The fucking Russian guy that hangs around hasnât said a word, and he doesnât now. He smells distinctly Wolvish too- but Eddieâs never paid him mind, he is now. Threat- threat.Â
âThat, could get you back in the house.â Eddie snarled, and so did Wayne. Tension was heavy, and the living room had gone silent. He could care fucking less, what the hell was wrong with this man. His teeth itched. âLike Hell-â Wayneâs tone was sharp, smoother-
âHow fucking dare you.â Eddie would apologize for cutting his Uncle off later- âI know you get off on riling people up, and generally just being a fucking prick. But jacking off to this? Playing with it? Iâll rip your throat out with my teeth.â Itâs not a threat, it's a promise. The older man pales, and Eddie grins, he knows he looks half feral, knows he looks like he can follow up on this request. And itâs, itâs so good.Â
Maybe, maybe, the feeling of regret will show up later, mixed in with the heavy coat of guilt, and bitterness, and anger, that already coats his bones. But right now, now Eddieâs protecting something sacred. Do not touch.Â
âNever, like hell. I would never do that. Using someone else. What is wrong with-â âMunson.â Hopperâs voice is sharp, low. Eddie curled his lips back further. âNo ones going to ask anyone to do that.â Eddie watches the wolf cut his eyes over to Murray, who jerks his gaze away, embarrassment written in his features. Good. His teeth itch, and so does his skin- blood pooled on his tongue. Wayne was on his feet now, slower, and he tried not to think too hard about how his uncle positioned himself in front of him.Â
Eddie snapped his jaw, teeth clicking together hard enough they rattled in his skull. Pain flaring across the roof of his mouth and over his jaw. Eddie hisses at Hopper, knows that the other probably thought about it, knows that they all probably have.
âYou could get us back in the house?â Mikeâs voice is high, loud- Eddieâs going to kill him. He snaps his head around to stare at the teenager, Hopper Growls lower- maybe heâs now realizing just what Murray set loose in his house. Wayne answers the noise sharply with his own snarl. Eddieâs old man is sharp, and protective without question.
âYou could have done that this entire time, and you havenât? What the fuck Eddie.â Baby Wheelerâs voice is accusing, angry- and Eddie isnât dealing with this.Â
Dustin is by his side, looking at him with almost the same expression, and all the kids are poised for a fight- And Eddie hates being like this, but heâs also not doing this- not like this. He spins on his heel, and pushes past the kids, shoving Mike a little harder than he needs to, as he moves past.
The doorknob is frigid under his touch, and he slams it behind him. Eddie climbs into his van and waits for Wayne to follow him out. Doesnât remember the drive back to the Trailer, doesnât remember any of it.
Eddieâs not sure if he wants to. All of this is just bad. IT's bad, and he's so fucking angry it's not even funny. How- how. Wayne doesn't say anything to him
--- I lied about part 5, I procrastinated literally all of my work because I didn't want to do anything for a long weekend. Nothing was done, not for anything. I also didn't post, or work on anything for ao3, shocker. I was going to have this posted like hours ago, but my laptop died in the middle of class... which was fun. This part is also not my favorite of the parts if Imma be honest. I hate Dialogue, so much- and there's so much dialogue. You know, this has like an actual title... but I'm also a Long Title enjoyer. So for now I'll just stick to Monster Au? Because it works. At least for now. If it ever goes up on ao3, which it probably will; it'll be under that title. I'd like to actually post a Steddie One-shot that stays a one-shot. *cries over 138k words* (And yes I'm going to keep pushing this link because that fic is my motherfuckin baby-) Anyway, I'm going to go see if I can get a few hours of sleep. That would be nice. I again, ask, where the hell did all of you come from???? You are all incredibly sweet. <3 (I Think this is all who asked to be tagged? I think? They also messed up halfway through making this- so I might have fucked something up possibly) @theghostinmymachine @sadcanadianwinter @failedstarsandgoldenclouds @a-huge-nerdy-nerd @bisexualdisastersworld @intergalactic-president-awesome @vampireinthesun @estrellami-1 @raysreads @knightofthieves @sassysleeplord @gezell-igg @ledleaf @haluton @h0n3y-dw @thegingerrapunzel @finalmoondragon @warrior-616 @lexyvey @thesuninyaface @whalesharksart @two-faced-biatch @plasticcrotches
#asmr has a special place in sensory hell#I keep listening to it like I'm going to desenitise myself to it#like I'm not autistic and it's literally the worst#0/10 i hate asmr#steddie monster au?#steddie#steddie ficlet#steve harrington whump#sad steve harrington#steve x eddie#steve harrington#monster steve#vampire eddie munson#eddie musnon#wayne munson#liv is losing their mind#if i could somehow not have this many thoughts that would be nice#shapeshifter steve harrington
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