#werewolf billy au

[strangerchurby]

Edit: Ooops, I forgot to change the words up here. Anyway, we finally catch up. Yay!

Original Idea/Steve Post by @shieldofiron

[ 1 ] [ 2 ] [ 3 ] [ 4 ] [ 5 ] [ 6 ] [ 7 ] [ Here ]

Or Read on Ao3

Turns out that reckoning time in the same way that people do is harder as a wolf. Especially as a wolf lingering on the edges of human society in a cursed place like Hawkins, Indiana. Hell, time gets harder still when there were close to no anchors to the life he had lived before. He's unmoored from the things that used to help him measure things happening. Not that he doesn't notice days starting or ending, just that the math of them adding up matters less.

Instead of counting down until he can return to California or measuring time in work days versus days off, his life distills into a flow of shorter and longer periods. Periods of hunting with his crows guiding him to viable prey that a single wolf his size can take down, periods of stalking the edges of town, hoping for some information, periods of rest where no one will find him.

At least he thinks no one will find him there, what with the fact that the cabin in the woods seems pretty abandoned. He gets why, within moments of setting paws inside some days after his own funeral. Beyond the lingering scent of the flesh-beast that nearly killed him, that had possessed him, he recognizes the inside. Never been there before in his life, not in person, but he knows the place. Maybe it had been the possessor that took his form into the girl's mind, into her awareness of her personal space, but Billy had still been there. He had wept at knowing the pain that they would inflict on her.

He sees now the ruin they made of what would have been her home. The place she belonged, but had lost because of him. She's gone now, like the Byers. But their place has signs that someone else might buy it, and the cabin rests abandoned, save for his own presence. Even the crows don't come inside, regardless of the hole in the roof and the broken windows.

They're smarter than him, so he gets that. But there's something comforting in curling up on the couch that was too small for his growing form. Sure he's knocked it over once or twice, but the cushions are still comfortable and they're some of the only comfort the world has for him these days. The only way of reminding himself that once, a lifetime ago, he had been a boy living in this town.

Perhaps the strongest promise that he really was once Billy Hargrove is the fact that he just can't bring himself to leave Hawkins. Can't stop himself from staying, from listening for whispers, from trying to catch a glimpse or the scent of a girl that has already replaced him. Her name is getting foggy in his head, so many things are getting foggy, but still he stays. Even in the face of all of the danger, and the certainty his instincts insist that the thing that hurt him still lingers here, he stays.

So time passes in that way it does. Summer reaches its peak and falls away. Fall steals in around them, less brutal this year with the thick coat of fur keeping him warm. With each week he finds he's getting bigger, stronger, faster, to the point where hiding gets harder and going about at night is one of the few options he has. Very little changes beyond the length of the day.

Until suddenly, something does.

Truth is he didn't know the Harrington house ran up against the woods, but when he comes across it one evening, he knows immediately what it is. While his nose guided him there over the scent of grilling meat, it kept him lingering, hidden in the woods for something different. A familiar boy with fluffy hair that leaves his heart torn between hunger and anger. Somewhere inside he can remember why, but not in the moment. Not as he watches the boy turning meat over (chicken, god he misses chicken) on a grill. There's shouting from inside, annoying voices of children that are... familiar?

The boy is busy juggling too many things, and Billy licks his chops as he watches meat being loaded onto a plate. A very loaded plate. A plate that, as the guy turns quickly, upsets a piece of chicken that falls. He watches as the boy sighs and then keeps moving inside.

A few seconds once the boy goes inside is all it takes. His footfalls go from utterly silent amid the leaf litter and bare grass to clicking as his nails clatter across the concrete surrounding a covered pool, but he's certain no one inside notices. Another moment to snatch the chicken breast and he's turning to flee back into the trees.

For all that the rush of blood and fresh meat strengthens his body, the taste of that chicken breast does something else entirely. The black pepper and salt, the hint of something lemony, it's all so distinctly human that if Billy could moan in pleasure, he would. As it is he feels more himself than he has in... weeks? Months? God he can't even tell anymore.

He's finished devouring the meat when the boy, when Steve Harrington, comes back outside, shouting something about cleaning up. But of course Harrington pauses, looks at the spot on the concrete that the now missing meat had fallen. Really, Billy regrets he didn't have more time to lick the area clean. At least he can lick his chops, get the lingering traces of the humanizing taste off his fur.

"Hey Dingus? Is everything okay? Do you need help?"

Billy doesn't know the voice that calls, but it's female. Harrington looks one more time at the spot then turns back to head inside. Before Billy trots off on his own for a bigger meal he hears the guy's answering words.

"Yeah. But can you ask around if anyone's lost a dog? I think a stray got to the chicken I dropped."

Stray sounds about right to Billy, but he's definitely not the sort anyone is expecting.

From there it turns into a strange sort of routine. It's not everyday at first, but two days later when he returns to the house there's something surprising there. No Harrington this time, but definitely a change. A bowl lies a bit away from the door he saw Harrington go through, and of course Billy has to investigate. What might Harrington leave out for a stray.

The answer is kibble. A bowl of kibble. Annoyed Billy takes the edge of it between his teeth and flips the bowl over. He does take a second to drink his fill from the water dish, but then he's back into the woods. At least Harrington will probably make some racoon happy or something.

Thankfully the next day there's a better offering. A plate of shredded chicken. Some of the crows get to it first, but he doesn't let that stop him from eating every last bit he can and licking the plate clean.

From there it becomes a routine. As the evening gets late, and only if the BMW is in the driveway, Billy goes to linger in the woods. He makes sure to move just enough to maybe let Harrington catch sight of fur in motion, his theoretical stray. That almost guarantees a plate of chicken outside within half an hour. Never as beautifully seasoned and anchoring as the first time, but it's wonderful.

It goes on for days, or weeks. Time is still a mess. But it goes on until it changes. Fuck, how often was it that Harrington leads to a change for him?

There Harrington sits, looking out over the covered pool. Tonight there's no offering of meat, which is an annoyance all its own. That should be enough to send Billy off to knock some trash cans over for the crows before retreating to his cabin shelter. But there's a scent in the air.

Sorrow has a scent. Loneliness has a scent. Billy knows they both know. So he can pick them out coming off of Harrington. They're scents that Billy knows stink up his own den. In the moment Harrington is a mirror to him, and it makes Billy take the first step forward out of the trees. The motion is enough to catch attention, and he sees those doe brown eyes (and he's so certain of that description now) staring at him. Wide eyes, fearful eyes, prey eyes. And yet...

"H-hi," Steve ventures through the surge of fear scent. "You uh... wouldn't be planning on killing me, would you? Cuz I promised my friend Max I'd drive her to the arcade tomorrow and I'd hate to miss it."

Max. That's her name. The girl with pale colors and summer bright hair. His girl. His pack. No. No that's not the right word. Billy cocks his head to the side as he tries to think of the word. Thinking doesn't keep him from stepping forward though, from getting closer to Harrington.

Closer and closer like the guy is a magnet and now that he's this close Billy can't pull away. Forward step by step with the fear swelling but Harrington doesn't move. He's brave, for a pretty boy. He's not running, which is for the best because Billy doesn't know if he could keep down the wolf side's desire to chase. The stillness means Billy gets close, so very close. Close enough that if he let his tongue flash out he could lick Steve's-

And of course Harrington ruins it by scrambling back a few steps. The motion drives his muscles to tension, makes his head scream to lunge. His whole body shakes with the effort of keeping his poor, cold pads on the frosted pavement below them. Staying still is a battle against instinct, and Billy's determined to win.

This is Harrington. He knows Harrington. Harrington knows Max. They've both seen strange things. Maybe... maybe they'll understand. Maybe they can help him. So many moons have come and gone. During the fullness Billy goes out and sits and stares up until the moon sets, and when it leaves he's still like this. The change is never shed from his skin. He's trapped in this form like he was trapped in his head. A victim to his survival both times.

Maybe Harrington can help fix that, if Billy can only make him understand. Make him believe.

Which is when he remembers it. The only sign of his former humanity on him. Billy lowers his head, twisting it to the left as he does. Again his instincts scream, he's practically baring his neck. He can't do that. It's almost as weak as showing his belly.

All for naught, because Steve just stares.

Annoyed, frustrated, caught up in another swell of grief, he shakes his head. He wonders if he has lost the earring, but his chief crow was just pecking at it that morning. If he could just get Harrington to see it then maybe...

The gasp of breath tells Billy that Steve's caught sight of the metal. Now he just has to hope it means something to the guy.

It's at least enough to cause a trembling hand to raise, to reach out, to gently touch sensitive skin coated in soft fur. Then there's a gentle fumbling followed by a tugging as Harrington works the clasp of the hoop open. The metal is hauled free, the last sign of Billy's former life, and he watches as the metal is held up between them. Gold, like the necklace he used to wear. He'd never bought real silver jewelry in the past, it always made him itch. Makes him think now that maybe that's got something to do with what he is. But he's also glad because it's so clearly a man made object.

His eyes are riveted to Harrington's face as the older teen stares, touches, processes.

"Billy?"

And fuck it feels so good to hear someone say his name to him. Frankly he wants to lunge forward and lick that stupid handsome face in thanks for understanding. Instead he does his best to remember what he used to be like. What Harrington will expect from him. He tilts his head and blinks, slowly. Does that convey 'obviously, asshole' well enough? He hopes it does.

"We gotta call Max," Steve whispers.

For all that he doesn't know that he wants the brat to see him like this, the very potential in the words and the belief behind them fills his heart with hope.

Now, how to convince Steve to make him some more of that chicken while he tries...

At least that's a problem that is less distressing to try and figure out.

And that's it. Those are the thoughts that I had from the original post. Took a while but I got them all out.

[strangerchurby]

Original Steve Post by @shieldofiron

Well, since I've been encouraged to do it...

[ Here ] [ 2 ] [ 3 ] [ 4 ] [ 5 ] [ 6 ] [ 7 ] [ 8 ]

Or Read on Ao3

He wakes up, which is of course the first sign that shit has gone very, very wrong. And considering what a cluster fuck the last few days of his life has been, that's saying something. Between the poorly thought out rendezvous, the accident, the darkness down the stairs the lack of control, the sauna, and everything at the mall he can't say a lot has gone anywhere near right. The only thing that did was standing up, standing tall in the face of a monster for the first time in a long time, and protecting a girl in the right way this time. That and apologizing.

That should have been the end. He shouldn't have woken up. The pain had been so much, so deep, so immediate and yet lasting. Death had come for him on a surprisingly warm marble floor as cold seeped into every last cell of his body. Death had found him there not two months from him finally having enough money to hit the road, to going home, to seeking out something that could be his without fear or judgement or pain.

He wakes up and that's the first sign something new has gone wrong in his life.

It's not even remotely the most confusing. No, that is reserved for how he wakes up. Not on a stretcher in an ambulance, not on a gurney in a hospital, not even in some fucked up twist of fate by being on a cold slab in a morgue or clawing at some cheap ass lining in a coffin. No, he wakes up surrounded by metal. Not bars of it, but wires, thick and painted black and put close enough that he was pretty sure he couldn't get a hand through them. Which, turns out, wasn't something he was going to get a chance at anyway. Because when he raised a hand to push against the cage, well...

The paw before his face is huge. Large and covered with fur that he can't quite make the shade out on given how dark the area around him is. What he can tell is that there are darker spots on it, spots he knows is where blood is matted into the fur. Knows because his nose is insisting on it, itching at the smell of it. Knows it like he knows that huge paw, tipped in dark claws, will lead back to his own body if he follows the line of it.

He doesn't follow the line of it.

Billy closes his eyes because he can't stand to look anymore. Can't stand to face the thoughts that come with the seeing. Doesn't want to face the realization racing through his head.

Yet another thing Mom didn't bother explaining I guess.

It was on that thought that he drifted away into unconsciousness, curled up in its whispered promise of less pain, and lulled by a distant voice in his mind telling him to be ready for what came next.

[ To Part Two ]

Steve is pretty sure it’s a werewolf. It doesn’t really act like a dog and if it’s a wolf there’s something wrong with it.

He doesn’t really know why it keeps coming back at night. Just hangs around the back yard, giving Steve glimpses of pale fur. He starts leaving out plates of cooked chicken that disappear into shreds when he turns his back.

It should scare him more than it does, but at least he has a human type reference for Werewolves. They’re not freaky flower heads from the great beyond. After the upside down it feels downright comforting.

He finally catches a real glimpse when he’s feeling down one night. He got shot down by some chick at work, and then Jonathan had come in to return All the President’s Men, which Steve knows is Nancy’s favorite.

So he’s sitting on the back porch staring at the covered pool, feeling sorry for himself. He didn’t bother changing out of his work clothes, still rocking the family video vest in the chilly October night. There’s a chill in the air that reminds him of the fall, and has him thinking of Billy Hargrove, for some reason. It almost seems unreal that he was gone too.

Then Steve sees it. It’s huge, as big as a bear but sleek, golden silver fur clinging to its haunches. It comes forward in little bursts, a few steps at a time.

Steve freezes like a deer, mind racing as he tries to remember where he left his bat.

The wolf’s (he thinks) greenish blue eyes pierce right through him, pinning him to the spot.

“H-hi,” Steve ventures. “You uh… wouldn’t be planning on killing me, would you? Cuz I promised my friend Max I’d drive her to the arcade tomorrow and I’d hate to miss it.”

The wolf cocks his head to the side and advances several more steps, until Steve can feel the heat of it’s breath on his face.

He scrambles back, shivering in fear. The light streaking from the back door seems to hit it like a spotlight, highlighting the way it’s massive paws crunch agains the freshly frosted pavement.

Steve was trying, semi unsuccessfully, to make Max feel better after Starcourt. She’d become closed off, distant.

Shit, he really didn’t want her to lose another sort of brother in such a short period of time.

But the thing didn’t eat him. It just kind of stared down at him.

Then, slowly, deliberately, it lowered its head, turning it to the left.

Then, when Steve did nothing, it shook it’s head.

The breath stuck in Steve’s lungs as he saw the glint of something caught on it’s ear. He reached up with a trembling hand, expecting to find part of a fence.

But it wasn’t. He fumbled with smooth metal until he detached it, and held it up to the light.

Green blue eyes speared him as he took it in.

“Billy?”

The wolf just blinked at him sardonically. Like, yeah asshole.

Holy shit.

“We gotta call Max.” Steve whispered.

[loseractivities]

RAHHHHHHHH🐺🐺🧛🏻🧛🏻

silly @zombie-jed i loved your werewolf stu vampire billy idea. sm🥰

waowwww lookie🥰🥰

[undercoveravenger]

Intoxication

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x Male!Reader

Requested: Yes

Request: “love potion mix-up with Billy Hargrove??”

A/N: Happy Spooky Month everyone! Here's the first post for the 2023 Spooky Month event - the next post will be dropping on Tuesday, October 10th. Hope you enjoy!

-----

Things had been strange ever since the arrival of Billy Hargrove and his little sister, Max.

Well, things in Hawkins had been weird for a lot longer than that, especially since you and your best friend Steve had befriended the group of misfit kids that called themselves “the Party”. They’d introduced the two of you to a secret side of Hawkins, where magic and curses and strange creatures ran amok. One of the kids, a girl named Eleven, was able to control objects with her mind and see beyond what was there. Another, Will, was psychic and could connect to other planes of existence. Dustin had a way of knowing how things fit together before anyone else could even guess. Steve’s coworker from Scoops Ahoy, Robin, was a witch. And now, Max and her brother. Werewolves, if what Lucas had told you was to be believed.

But you really couldn’t bring yourself to care much about Billy Hargrove. Not when so much of his life seemed to be spent antagonizing your best friend and trying to disrupt your comfortable station within the school’s hierarchy, seemingly dead set on turning your life upside down. Even at stupid parties like this one, you could hear people chanting Billy’s name while he faced off against Steve in a match of beer pong somewhere deeper in the house while you try to coax the sticker-covered flask away from Robin in the kitchen.

“Robs, babe,” you murmur, sidling up beside her and leaning back against the kitchen island, “I think Vickie likes you already. I know it’s scary to risk rejection, but a love potion isn’t the solution here.”

Robin nods slowly to herself, but her fingers don’t loosen around the metal. “But what if I can’t do it?”

You cock your head, smiling as she meets your eyes. “But isn’t asking her and knowing better than using that and not knowing how she really feels?”

It takes a moment of consideration, but your friend nods, setting the flask on the chipped marble countertop. 

“It’s more of an enhancer than-” Robin starts and it’s clear that you’re about to get one of Robin’s infamous lectures on the science of magic when she is cut off by someone snatching the flask from its place in front of the two of you.

“Aww, so sweet of you to have my next drink ready for me,” Billy Hargrove leers at you, unscrewing the cap of the flask even as his usual infuriating smirk slips over his lips, pretty blue eyes fixed on yours in with that intense, holier-than-thou look he always had. Just because he was tall and handsome and had pretty eyes and hair that you kind of want to curl your fingers into and use to pull him closer to shut him up with a kiss, doesn’t mean he could do anything but irritate you by looking at you like he knew something he wasn’t willing to share.

Your heart lurches in your chest as he raises the flask, you know you have to at least try to stop him, especially since Robin seems so stunned you’re not entirely sure she could say anything at all.

“Probably don’t wanna drink that, Hargrove,” you say, reaching out just in time to catch his wrist. “Might end up with something worse than a hangover.”

Billy leans forward against the counter, using his other forearm to prop himself up, raising an eyebrow pointedly as he looks at your hand, holding tight around his wrist, before his eyes shift up to meet yours. “You threatenin’ me?”

A derisive snort escapes you, and you gesture subtly for Robin to make her escape. The last thing you’d want is for Billy to figure out she had anything to do with whatever happens if he’s stubborn enough to drink the potion and start targeting her once it wears off. She catches your hint and mumbles an excuse about finding Steve, disappearing quickly into the crowd. 

“Of course not,” you say, releasing him and holding your hands up placatingly. Sure, you didn’t really want to spend longer than necessary around Billy Hargrove, but you wanted to spend time with a pissed off Billy Hargrove even less. “Just think it probably wouldn’t be something you would like, so I was just hoping to get it back,” you reached for it as you spoke, leaning across the island yourself to try to make a grab for the flask. 

Billy snatches it away, taking a long gulp from the mouth of the flask, grinning at you all the while. He pulls a face, but doesn’t wince the way one might at the burn of alcohol, but you can see the moment the look in his eyes starts to shift and the realization hits you with all the weight of a semi-truck.

Billy Hargrove had just taken a love potion while looking right at you. Billy Hargrove was about to be convinced that you were the love of his life.

“Well,” you say, eyes flickering around to look anywhere but at Billy, “I should really be going.” You push back upright, swiftly turning to make your way out the back door of the house and starting off down the sidewalk in the direction of your own home before Billy could speak. You don’t make it far before you realize you’re being followed, the scuff of Billy’s worn leather boots giving him away as he trails behind you.

“You’re not as stealthy as you think you are,” you call back over your shoulder, pace remaining steady even as Billy speeds up to walk beside you.

“Wasn’t tryin’ to be,” he drawls, lips quirking up into something softer than his usual sneer. “Just walkin’.” 

You study him for a long moment. “Didn’t you drive to the party? Surprised you’d leave your precious Camaro behind.”

“I’ve been drinking,” he shrugs, clearly trying to appear nonchalant. “Drunk driving’s dangerous, y’know.” He’s quiet for a minute and you find yourself almost wondering what he’s thinking.

“You don’t have to walk me home if that’s what this is,” you say, shoving your hands in your pockets and focusing your eyes on the way the lights on the stoplight a few blocks down flicker. “Steve already made me promise to call him when I get home.”

Billy huffs and he almost seems to be pouting when you glance over at him. “Don’t see why you’re with that loser in the first place. ‘s not good enough for you anyway.��

His words shock you enough that your steps falter and you have to turn to face him to see if he’s joking or not. Billy looks more serious than you’ve ever seen him, steely blue eyes fixed firmly on you. 

You have to fumble for words for a minute, the first thing you’re able to force out being a weak protest. “Steve’s not a loser!” Then the rest of his words catch up to you, “And he’s just my best friend, anyways.”

Billy seems to brighten at that, a more genuine smile crossing his lips than you’d ever seen before. “So,” he says, moving toward you slowly. The dull orange glow of the streetlights makes his hair shine almost copper and his eyes flash that distinct werewolf silver as he stalks toward you, gently herding you backward until your back is pressed to the brick wall of some long-closed business and Billy’s in front of you, arms caging you in on either side. On any other day, you might’ve felt claustrophobic- trapped and threatened by someone determined to fuck up your life. But today- with that love drunk look in Billy's eyes and that fond grin on his face, you were hesitantly pleased with your position. "If you're not with Harrington," Billy starts, leaning just a bit closer, until you can almost feel the breath of his words against your lips, "Does that mean you're available to go out with me on Friday?"

Part of you is tempted to say yes- to give in to this sweet, intoxicating side of Billy and let this go as far as he wants to take it- but the rest of you knows that what's happening is wrong.

You press a hand to Billy’s chest, pushing him back enough to give yourself some breathing room. 

"I would, but this isn't real, Billy." You force yourself to say, "You drank a love potion tonight- this- you don't mean any of this."

Billy laughs then, full and unrestrained and the most genuine you've ever heard him be. "That shit doesn't work on werewolves. Metabolism’s too fast for it to really do much of anything," he says, grin unable to be helped even as his laughter subsides. "And even if it did, the stuff that your buddy whipped up just makes feelings that's already there easier to act on."

You blink, the pressure you'd been using to keep Billy at bay slacking as you think through what he'd said. If he hadn't been affected by Robin’s potion then- 

Billy nudges closer, slipping his arms around your middle and tucking his face against the side of your neck. "The reason I was always so shitty to Harrington is that I was jealous," he murmurs softly, and you can feel the way he grins just a little wider as you start to relax against him, "I wanted to have people look at me like they look at him. I wanted to have you look at me like I was him." 

You can’t help the way your hands come up to curl around him too, the way your fingers curl into his shirt, or the way you press just a bit closer to him. You can’t help the answering grin from carving its way across your cheeks at the thought of how pleased Billy seems to be at being the center of your attention, but you also can’t stop those few little questions from itching away inside your mind. 

“Why didn’t you ever say anything?” The thought escapes you almost unbidden, before you can second-guess yourself, and you can’t help but keep talking. “Why didn’t you ask me out? Or- or just say hi? Something other than-” you gesture vaguely back in the direction of the party.

The tired sigh that escapes him makes it clear he knows you’re talking about his grudge against Steve and all the drama he’s stirred up for the two of you.

“It’s-” he has to pause and think over his words for a moment before he can continue. “My experience with love is… complicated. My mom died when I was little and my dad- he changed after that. Got mean. Angry.” He swallows hard, pulling away far enough to look at you, to really look at you. “He made it clear that he expected pretty specific behavior from me and anything that didn’t meet that wasn’t… good for me. Liking a guy- well, that was pretty far from what he’d expect.” His hands drop from your sides and he steps back a bit, arms crossing over his chest like he’s trying to distance himself from his thoughts. “So I was rude and sarcastic and I was mean to Harrington because at least that kept me in your peripheral.” He meets your eyes again, bright and open and honest in the orange glow of the streetlights, “But I don’t want to just be in your peripheral anymore.” 

With all of what he'd said playing through your mind, finding the right words is proving difficult. "If we’re gonna try this, you've gotta leave Steve alone," you start finally, heart squeezing with more fondness than you're ready to admit as you watch the realization of what you mean starts to sink in and a million-watt smile pulls at Billy’s lips. "And Robin and the kids, too.”

A giddy laugh escapes Billy and he takes your hand in his, tugging you back down the street in the direction the two of you had been walking. “That’s a deal I’d make a thousand times over,” he says, grinning brightly as he walked with you, fingers intertwined with yours, hands swinging easily between the two of you.

Conversation flows easily as the two of you walk and you’re more at peace with Billy now than you could ever remember being with any of your exes, he insists on walking you home no matter how many times you tell him he doesn’t need to. 

“Go out with me on Friday?” He says as the two of you stop at the foot of your driveway. “We could go for a picnic or to the drive-in if you want?”

When he’s looking at you like that, you can’t help but agree, quickly finding yourself more and more excited about your pending date. 

Billy kisses your hand before he lets go, stepping back as you turn away from him and head for your house. 

Billy smiles to himself as he watches you make your way up the driveway, keeping watch until you're safely inside, before turning and heading off in the direction of his own home. No, he knew he'd never have needed that love potion- not when it came to you. Billy Hargrove had been intoxicated by you since the first time he met you and he knows that isn't going to change any time soon.

[harringroveera]

Steve: Is this roleplay or are you actually a werewolf?

[runraerun]

also I just saw this, but could you perhaps tell us more about your au howl for me, baby!!? 🥺

How about a mood board I made for the fic instead, anon!?🎃

*I had fully planned on making this a multi-chapter fic (and I still may eventually) but for now I’m just polishing up the first chapter and releasing it for the @harringrovekinktober event as a cheeky little one-shot. 🌕🐺✨

[fizzigigsimmer]

That spring, Steve’s mom finally gets tired of getting cheated on and files for divorce. His dad is a dick about it and hires a bunch of lawyers to ensure that she basically leaves with nothing. Worse, he fights her for custody of Steve and taunts her with the fact she’ll never see him again - because why would any teenager want to give up everything, just to rough it out with their train-wreck of a mother? But jokes on him cause the judge basically leaves it up to Steve, and Steve would rather stomp on his own balls than get stuck with that asshole. Even if it means having to leave the big house and his car and starting over in a new place where nobody knows him.

Steve never met his mother’s side of the family in California. All he really knows is that the family disapproved of her marriage. There’s a story about his aunt coming to visit once on his birthday when he was like five, but she got in a fight with mom and she’s never been back. So Steve doesn’t even think about them when he tries to imagine what he and his mom are going to do on their own. He imagines her selling her car and the other gifts dad put in her name over the years to rent a decent apartment somewhere, maybe in Indianapolis or Chicago.

He’s really shocked one night when she announces that she’s been in touch with her family, and she she asks him about how he feels about moving to California to some sleepy little town called Moonwood. She tries to enthuse him about it by going on about how beautiful it is there, right at the edge of the national forest, but Steve’s more concerned with the fact that they’ll be living with people who hate them - and in the sticks too! Its two hours to the nearest mall! How’s he gonna find a job in this place? And what about school?

But Steve looks around at the hotel they’ve been staying in and the paper thin smile she fixes on her face to try and hide her broken heart from him and how fucked everything is, and he just wants her to be okay.

They move to California, and the one bright side is the relatives turn out to be not all that hateful. There’s awkward tension and a shit load of history there for sure, but from the minute they pull up to his grandparents house the door is thrown open and they’re welcomed with open arms. His grandpa seems a little stiff at first, but Steve gets the impression its because he doesn’t know what to do with himself as Steve’s mom and his grandma hug each other and cry. The weirdest part is when they start speaking in a language Steve’s never heard his mother use before.

Later his aunt tells him it’s lythan, but she just laughs when Steve asks if that means they’re from Lithuania. Apparently lythan is a very old language that started in romania and is only spoken today in two places. Here, and some village in romania that an ancestor immigrated from.

None of this is making sense to him but he’s just happy his mother seems happier and that he has help taking care of her, since she’s still pretty broken up about the divorce. She’s always been a passionate woman his mom. The kind of person who believes in soulmates and love at first sight. She’s always told him that when he meets the one for him he’ll know it in an instant and that he should hang on to that person with his whole heart. Which sounded great and all when he was a kid, but honestly just makes him sad now when he looks at how things turned out with her and his dad.

The first week after they get there, Steve cant sleep and catches his mother, his grandmother and his aunt talking in the kitchen late one night. He overhears her say that she knew it was a risk being with his dad, but that she’d have regretted it more if she didn’t follow her heart. Even if she wasn’t the one for Steve’s dad the way he was for her, she’d always be grateful because she has Steve. But she doesn’t want him to grow up feeling like he has to change who he is and like he always has to be the one giving to someone else just to be loved.

For the first time since the divorce Steve is almost mad at her - wants to shout it’s too late mom! - but the feeling passes as quickly as it comes. He’s just sad, for them both. But he hopes things will be okay here and that this can be a new start. It could be worse right? At least he gets a room to himself. Yeah it’s kinda weird that his aunt still lives at home and nobody seems to have a problem with that, or is talking about what his moms plans are like they expect that she’ll just be there forever now. But he figures they’re all just focused on making up for lost time right now.

And his grandma says that people in Moonwood stay close to home anway, and that most of them spend their whole lives there without leaving. It shocks him to learn that she’s never been further outside of town than to the edge of the national forest.

His second worry, about finding a job, gets resolved by his his grandfather - who runs a soda shop on the beach. There’s not much traffic durring the off season, but in summertime the redwoods draw a fair number of tourists. Steve’s kept very busy scooping up ice cream and making root beer floats while he flirts with the gap year girls who come through in groups, to backpack through the forest. He’s just turned eighteen and he’s never had much of a problem picking up girls so he has a few flings. He gets invited to parties on the beach and ends up doing a lot of hiking that summer in his downtime. But then fall rolls around and with fewer and fewer groups of tourists passing through Steve finds himself at loose ends.

School starts up again and he realizes that maybe it was a mistake not to put more of an effort into meeting local kids and making a few connections beforehand. Schiller High is over in the next district, and Moonwood is so far out the kids have to be bussed in. Steve’s a little nervous about starting a new school in his senior year but he tells himself it’s just one year. One year and then he has no idea what to do with himself after that, but at least he won’t be forced to attend school anymore. Still, he begs his mom to let him take their car to school the first day so that he doesn’t have to be the oldest kid on the bus. He’s pretty sure that’s a social constant even out here in the middle of nowhere.

Schiller seems pretty normal at first. It’s about the same size as his school back in Hawkins was. The school receptionist calls in some guy named Tim to show him around his first day and make sure he gets to all his classes. Tim’s alright, but Steve can see the neon nerd sign blinking above his head and plays it cool. He’s not an asshole or anything, he just doesn’t want to close any doors before getting the lay of the land. Steve just wants an easy year and he’s not gonna get that if he’s hanging out with a bully magnet - sorry Tim. Plus, Steve’s not exactly thrilled about the way Tim talks about ‘moonies’ - which is apparently what other people call people from Moonwood, instead of hicks or whatever. Steve doesn’t bother telling Tim that he’s technically a moonie now too.

His aspirations to plant himself firmly in the middle of the student social hierarchy and go unnoticed for the next ten months involve finding a group - or a pack as his grandfather weirdly put it when he assured Steve he’d find his in no time and start to feel more at home once school started. He asks Tim about the school’s athletic teams because being on a team with a bunch of other guys will basically do the work for him. There’s a swim team that Steve is definitely going to try out for. He’s not sure about basketball. He only got started back in Hawkins because his dad thought it was manlier than ‘playing’ in the pool. But he likes it okay, and Tim says the Schiller team has actually won a few regional titles.

Even though it’s his last year Steve figures it can’t hurt his college applications to be on a winning team for once. He probably won’t to start or anything but he thinks he has a good shot of seeing some playing time.

“I would stick with swimming if I were you. There’s no way you’re getting on the team.” Tim laughs. “The head coach is a moonie and he only ever picks guys from Moonwood.”

That doesn’t seem very legal, but that’s not Steve’s problem. He figures Tim is probably exaggerating anyway, just salty that the coach is giving a little extra focus to the guys from the less privileged side of the tracks.

Until Steve actually sees Billy and some of the other guys from the team.

It’s just before lunch when Steve and Tim have stopped by Steve’s locker. A blond kid in a red and white letterman jacket appears at the mouth of the hall, flanked by two other guys. It’s like something out of a movie the way the hallway clears for them and the other students gaze at them with awe filled expressions as if they’re watching a parade of olympians pass through.

“That’s Billy Hargrove. He’s captain of the basketball team.” Tim answers the unspoken question in Steve’s glance. “Don’t get on his bad side. He’s pretty much the top dog around here.”

Steve doesn’t need Tim to tell him Billy runs things around here. The guy is built like the terminator. Like someone who has ascended above mere mortals and wouldn’t be out of place among the gods. He’s built like a man, Steve finally settles on with an prickle of embarrassment hot in his chest. Steve’s a guy and he doesn’t go out of his way to look at other guys a lot, but he appreciates the things about them that are enviable.

Only envy is the furthest thing from Steve’s mind when he first sees Billy. It’s like time slows for Steve. His mouth gets dry, and he thinks to himself that Billy Hargrove is beautiful, and he wonders what that’s like. Steve knows he’s good looking. This isn’t some self depreciation bullshit, it’s just inexplicably different somehow the way he looks at Billy and thinks he finally understands what real beauty is. The way he instantly wants to get closer to him, reach out and touch. Billy has none of the unfinished awkwardness of a teenager. He’s a poster child for physical perfection that Steve is convinced walked off of a poster taped up on somebody’s wall, and has no business walking down the halls of an American high school. Seriously. How is this guy real?

He spares a quick glance for the other two guys with Billy - Dave & Chet - just long enough to confirm that he’s fucked. If these are the kinds of guys they’ve got on the team, Steve has no chance of seeing anything but a bench all year.

Billy and the other two stop at a locker not far from Steve’s on the other side of the hall, but not before Billy’s gaze does a casual sweep around the hall - very much a king surveying his kingdom. Steve fully expects that gaze to pass right over him just as unimpressed as it does everyone else, but to his surprise Billy’s gaze locks with his and sticks.

A little tingle dances up Steve’s spine and he sucks in a breath. He can’t tell what color Billy’s eyes are from this distance - at first he thinks they are something light, like a blue or grey, but then the corner of Billy’s mouth tilts up in a smirk and the light hits them a certain way and they look almost gold as he runs his tongue over some very white fangy teeth. Jesus the guy has some chompers on him.

Steve’s not afraid of a fight but it’s profoundly unsettling to have some dude literally licking his chops at him like he can’t wait to take a bite of the fresh meat. He’s pretty sure he just landed himself on Billy Hargrove’s shit list and he has no idea why. Fuck his life.

But he figures there’s nothing he can do about it but ignore it and hope that Billy decides he’s not worth the trouble. Steve turns to shut his locker, sending the message with his back that he doesn’t care about the dude giving him the crazy eyes and that Billy doesn’t intimidate him. His sweaty palms tell a different story, but that’s for Steve and only Steve to know.

As he leaves, he can feel Billy’s eyes burning into his back like lasers.

So much for going unnoticed for the year.

Now with Part 2

[screechwhisper]

Vampire Billy and Werewolf Stu 💕🔪

[celestialspecial]

Such Sharp Teeth

I needed to write a werewolf fic again, so many other writers i follow have been putting out bomb content so i had to join in <3

Writers notes: It's not true abo dynamics- some elements are featured but it doesn't follow truly, it is reader insert but MC's name is Aurora-

also go read @becauseicantthinkwritings Objects in Motion, hooooly shittt

Warnings: 18+themes, graphic descriptions of body transformation, insinuated non con elements, reader digression advised :)

All you could feel was the cool air on your skin, blowing through your hair as the moon glowed overhead. You felt strong, powerful. It was exhilarating and freeing all at once. The beauty of the forest surrounding you as the sharp ribbons of silver moonlight cut in shards through the trees.

You could taste the air, smell bread being baked from miles away, hear people talking and animals scurrying away from you. The forest floor rose up time and again to meet your feet, every sensation heightened. It was a beautiful thing more often than not, but tonight was different. Tonight there was a sense of desperation inside of you.

A tinge of fear, footfalls echoing behind you, they were far but yet still so close. Too close for comfort. Howls rang out and you knew that you'd never escape keeping pace like this. Your breath grew ragged, no longer deep inhalations but tortured puffs. 

You could see your breath in the air before you and then you felt the pain surging through your body. Bones breaking, tissue tearing, muscles unraveling only to be knit back together in another form. You wanted to cry out at the pain but it’d only alert them to your location and that was far too dangerous. 

You could taste blood and feel tufts of fur spring up along your spine as it twisted and mangled its shape into something new. Your eyes blurred as you felt the bones in your face collapsing and extending, ears rising up and canines lengthening in your still too small mouth.

The next time your foot hit the ground it was no longer a foot, but a paw. The squelching sound of mud making contact with the pads of it. You had been running fast but now the speed was unparalleled. Heavy panting as you pushed yourself to the brink of exhaustion.

You still had miles to go but the howling was far off in the distance growing further away and that’s how you liked it. How it’d need to be for as long as it took you to figure out the next step.

The covers you woke up in were caked in mud, it crunched as you shifted in the bed, pattering to the floor surely creating a mess. You groaned stretching your arms overhead, human arms, the muscles sore and aching from how far you’d run last night. 

Even the edges of your feet and tips of your ears felt taut with tension and soreness. Rubbing a hand over your face, coming away with more dirt.

“Shit.”

“Shit is right, look at the state of this room.” A friendly face poked her head in through the doorway. She was tall, elegant limbs covered in a chunky sweater and leggings. Dark brown hair pulled up into a messy bun, light hazel eyes filled with a touch of mischief.

“I’m sorry, Celeste. I promise I’ll clean everything up.” She moved over to the side of the bed, holding a mug of something that smelled heavenly. Gesturing for you to take it, the heat seeping into the palms of your tired hands.

“I’m not worried about it. Here, drink. You need something to warm your bones.” You nodded taking a long drawn out sip. The liquid was chocolatey with a medicinal hint that washed over your tongue and seemed to heat your insides up almost immediately. 

“It should help with well…everything.” She gave a half hearted smile, shrugging one shoulder up, before adjusting the edge of her sweater. “You came a very long way.” You finished the drink, setting the mug into the side table next to you. The warmth began to leech into your bones finally and you felt immensely grateful for Celeste and her healing abilities. 

“I couldn’t stay. I had to…I just-time was running out.” The reassuring smile gave way to an earnest look of sympathy.

“They can kill you for this.” You swallowed thickly, all too aware of the dangers you had put yourself in. The odds hadn't been in your favor but you had to take a chance, to get away from home. Home. It felt a sham to even call it that. 

“I know. And I’m beyond grateful you letting me stay here the night but I promise I’ll be out of your hair soon.” Celeste made a waving gesture in the air, dismissing your words.

“Don’t be ridiculous, stay as long as you need.” The kindness created a fist in your throat, you’d been friends for years, writing letters back and forth since visiting often wasn’t allowed.

Rival pack members weren’t allowed to associate with one another more than their Alphas permitted.

You bit the inside of your cheek in an attempt to shove down the hatred and anger you felt for your pack. To call them such a thing felt like a crime in and of itself. They were horrible and controlling, to think of yourself free from them felt exciting and terrifying. 

“You could get in trouble.” You nearly whispered, even though no one was around to hear. She brushed off the notion.

“We’ll figure out a place for you to stay in the meantime. Has it started?” You gave a brief nod, not wanting to talk about it. The temperature of your skin, the cramping, that undeniable ache that shook you to your core. Like your body was no longer your own. It was infuriating and deliciously tortuous.

“Then in a few days when it’s over we can figure out what to do from there.”

“Your brother is gonna kill you.” 

“What he doesn’t know won’t kill him.”

“Speak for yourself.” Celeste only gave you a smirk before squeezing your shoulder in a comforting fashion.

“Alright up, I need to change these sheets. A dirty dog rolled all over in them.”

That night felt like hell, a worse cycle than you’d ever had before. The winges of pain and agony ached through your system. It felt like your body had been tossed into a blazing fire.

In fact that sounded much better than what you felt now. Heats were different for every pack member but you couldn’t recall a time when you wished you were unconscious instead of enduring it.

You had needed to get away from your town, your pack before this happened. Before you were tied to the worst man you’d ever had the displeasure of knowing.

You were his property in his mind and the idea of you turning him down, running away rather than accepting his forced mating had surely sent him into a rage. 

Maybe your body knew what had been coming and was throwing a fit in rebellion even now that you were in safe territory or maybe the strain and stress of escaping and being on the run had done you in.

Either way no matter how many cold showers you took, how many naps your forced yourself into, how many times your own hands attempted to hit their mark, it wasn’t enough.

Celeste had left a hearty brew of tea for you that was supposed to help, you’d chugged the whole thing down to the shock of your friend and still nothing. Or maybe it had helped and this was the edge being taken off.

Being hit by a bus felt less excruciating than this. 

You somehow managed to fall asleep and when you woke your mouth felt dry, the familiar ache between your legs remained unsatisfied.

You wanted to tear the pillows on the bed to pieces, watching the feathers explode and drift down around you as your screamed into the frigid air. 

You couldn’t even keep the window open for fear of Celeste's male pack members smelling you and paying an uninvited visit. Tipping off her brother that you were here, potentially getting her in loads of trouble.

Your fingers itched to tear open the window and taste the cold November breeze. Your nails scratched gouges in the white paint on the window sill as you stared longingly out at the frost bitten garden. 

A soft knock came at the door, seeing your friend slipping into the room with another pot of strong smelling tea. Celeste sat the tea down on the side table, noting your frustrating posture by the window.

“I’m sorry, I know exactly how you feel.” 

“I hate it.” It sounded like a whine, maybe it was but at this point you didn’t care. 

“I have to go out and run some errands in town but I promise it won’t be long. Drink the rest of this, I put something in it to help your frazzled nerves and maybe even get you to sleep.”

The thought of sleeping another 48 hours and waking up normal again sounded so enticing. 

“Thank you.” You crawled into bed staring out the window imagining running freely through the forest, only this time not away from something but towards something better.

Something that felt intangible right now. Tossing back a long swig from the tea pot and letting your eyes shutter close for however long they’d allow.

The hours crawled by and you felt yourself somewhere in a slumber and waking titration. Eventually you could see the sun was lower in the sky, mid to late afternoon maybe?

Your body groaned in revolt as you got up from the bed, joints creaking and popping, clasping the now empty teapot in your hands.

You could feel the sweat dripping down your brow, swiping at it, rubbing at your eyes anything to avoid feeling how warm your whole body felt.

Celeste hadn’t come home yet and you managed to scrub the pot clean, place it in the drying rack and wash a dish or two more. Just to feel useful for once.

Wanting to be the least invasive houseguest as you could, moving over to where the washroom was and folding some of the sheets spilling out of the dryer. The small menial tasks actually helped contain the disjointed feeling your body was experiencing.

The sound of a key being inserted into the side door, unlocking and closing alerted your ears that Celeste was home. You felt too tired and pained to call out to her, instead waiting to see her face pop around the corner, but it didn’t. 

Footsteps echoed across the wooden floor and sounds of bags being dropped onto the kitchen island, accompanied by the soft sound of items, perhaps fruit, falling out and rolling along the granite. Then you smelled it.

The most intoxicating scent that had ever graced your nose. It was pine trees and fresh crisp air, like looking up into the night sky on a winter evening. It had a bite at first that smoothed into a warm rich earthy quality. There was even a hint of spice, it overtook every one of your senses, like you’d been bathed in it.

This wasn’t Celeste. 

Your ears strained to listen to anything this visitor was doing, whoever it was they had a key. Fuck. Celeste hadn’t told anyone you were here. Your muscles tensed, noticing all sounds from the kitchen had ceased.

Attempting to pad as quietly as you could out of the washroom, venturing a quick look into the kitchen. Sure enough there were grocery bags with oranges spilling out onto the island but no one around.

Silence.

If you could just sneak to the back door, you could see it from your point of view. One quick leap and you’d be gone and able to shift and disappear into the fast approaching night.

One step, then another. You were always known for being quiet in your pack, able to sneak up on any prey. This was no different.

Another few steps and you’d be home free. You felt the cool wooden floor kiss the tips of your toes before the strongest force you’d ever felt knocked you from your feet.

Your legs barely touched the ground before your back was slammed into the nearest wall, tauntingly so close to the back door. Large strong hands held you in place, your shoulders pinned against the drywall.

The scent you’d smelled before consumed you, your traitorous body arching against the wall towards the source.

“Who are you?” The voice was deep, a hint of gravel. Male. You felt your vision clearing from your head smacking against the hard surface to see sure enough a large man in front of you.

He was tall, towering over you, lean and athletic, muscles strained under his white shirt, corded along his forearms down to his hands that stilled you.

You felt the anxious pull to look down, to not meet his eyes. The undeniable mark of an alpha, it irked you to no end. Taking a steadying breath you fought your body, looking up into his face.

He was handsome, carved from rock and earth and dusted with something you couldn’t quite place. 

Dark brown hair that fell across his forehead, the sides were closely cropped but the rest hung longer, down to eyes that were such a deep brown you could lose yourself in them easily.

You could only imagine how radiant they’d look, flecks of gold catching the light when he smiled, but right now they were cold, calculating. The air caught in your throat, a choking noise all you could muster.

Your arms flexed against the wall, knowing you couldn’t escape but dying to, begging to. His nostrils flared, you watched the pupils in his eyes dilate, consuming the already deep brown gazing back at you. His fingers gripped you tighter.

“I said…who are you? Why are you in my sisters house?” 

“I…I.” Your brain couldn’t form words, not now. The scent of him, the feel of his touch against your heated skin, you could feel dampness spreading between your legs, the slow ache building inside your body clawing to get out.

Your inner wolf was barely continued under your skin, a popping sensation in your ears, the room felt like it was spinning.

It was like he could sense everything going on in your body, the way his eyes roamed ravenously over your flushed skin, his fingers flexing against your arms, the intensity of his gaze.

It was a split second but you could feel his face pressed into the crook of your shoulder, hear him inhale you deeply. Groaning as he exhaled, there would be bruises on your body where he gripped you so tightly.

You couldn’t hide the gasp that left your lips feeling his hips pressed against your own, his arousal evident. You felt your hands reaching for his back and his grip lessened enough to let you, your nails scraping against his muscled back through his shirt.

The noise he made rumbled in his chest, you could nearly feel it reverberating through your own body. The scratch of stubble scraping against the soft skin of your neck as he breathed deeply the scent of your heat and your legs yearned to be wrapped around his waist and carried to the nearest flat surface.

A bed, the couch, the floor-

“Hey, HEY!” You felt his hands fall from your arms as another voice rang through the room.

Celeste was wedging herself between the two of you, arms out protectively in front of you. “Billy! What the fuck are you doing here?!”

The man before you took a step back, his eyes were still pitch black, his chest heaving, fingers clenching and unclenching as if testing that they were truly not holding you anymore. 

“Celeste. You know this woman?” 

“I do! This is Aurora, she’s-she's my friend.” His eyes narrowed on you.

“I don’t recall ever being introduced to her before.”

Celeste glanced worriedly between the two of us, I nodded at her, the most encouragement I could offer at the moment.

“She’s…uh…. She left her pack.” His eyes widened a touch, lips parting, taking a solid deep breath before looking back at Celeste.

“Celeste….” His words were a warning, tinged with anger, frustration, concern…

“I know! But she needed to get out of there, they were gonna force her to mate with a homicidal maniac of an alpha!”

“An alpha?” His tone was harsh and abrupt, rubbing the bridge of his noise, lines forming on his brow. “Jesus Christ, Celeste. Do you know how dangerous this is? To us? To the pack?”

“Forced Mating, Billy! That’s barbaric!” He sighed, leaning back against the kitchen counter, running a hand through his already mussed hair. 

“It is. I know that as much as you, but some packs…still participate in the old ways…” his words weren’t convincing anyone, you could see it in the strained expression on his face.

You drew a steady breath , hesitantly pushing away from the wall you had just been pinned to. You missed the feeling of heat from his body being so close to yours already.

“I…I can leave. No. I think I should, Celeste, he’s right. This is dangerous you guys can get in a lot of trouble hiding a rival pack member. If you were to get caught it could be…it could be bad.” 

Billy and Celeste both were looking back at you, you could see the similarities between the two. The dark hair and long lean stature, Billy’s eyes were significantly darker, but they shared similar noses and mannerisms. How they stood, staring you down, intimidating and beautiful.  

“Rory…where would you go?” Your friend sounded so incredibly sad, it broke your heart. “Plus it’s not safe…”

“Once my cycle is over, I’ll leave.” Billy watched you with the focus of a pack leader and in the way only a wolf could. At the mention of your heat you noticed how his nostrils flared, chest rising into a territorial puff. “I’ll find somewhere to go.” 

Celeste walked over to you, grabbing your hand and pulling you into a hug. You held her tightly, the overwhelming feeling of fear and frustration from your body and emotions beginning to take a tighter hold of you. 

“Wait.” A deep sigh came from where Billy stood. “We can figure…something out. Until you have a safe place to go.” His dark eyes were no longer black orbs but the brown had returned, a softness, and something else danced across them as he spoke to you.

“But-“ he raised a finger, the look of admonishment towards his younger sibling. “Do NOT let anyone else know she’s here until I say, and make sure she stays in the house until... well until it’s safe.” 

You watched as he gathered his keys from the island, turning to walk across the kitchen, his heavy motorcycle boots louder than they had felt before, followed by the sound of the door closing behind him.

You knew what you had seen in his eyes, because you could feel it just as deeply. Longing. And something just below the surface, barely concealed but there nonetheless.

[cerealkilleratmidnight]

WEREWOLF STU AND VAMPIRE BILLY

had to since we had that little conversation about stuilly Werewolf, Vampire AU.

[calicheer-cove]

Based on a moodboard I made back in August.

Tried my best with werewolf Billy, lol. Anyway, I found a great pose from pinterest and I sketched on top of it until I got a general idea of what to draw. Pose reference picture. I’m happy with how this turned out! Please reblog if you like.

Story: Murder has disrupted the once sleepy village of Hawkins. Many believe that the culprit is a great wolf who picks its next victim during every full moon. Despite the beast that lurks within Billy, he has never once killed another person. Each full moon he must run into the deepest part of the woods before he changes. One winter's night he sees a woman wearing a red cloak holding a lantern and a bloody axe. He begins to transform before he sees her face. He wakes up the next morning in a cozy cabin, covered in fresh bruises and scrapes. Chrissy is the young lady that resides there, she inherited her family's cabin after they mysteriously vanished. She promises to take care of him until the harsh winter storms have passed, giving them time to get to know each other. All seems well until Billy sees her dawning a red cloak one evening, his heart drops when he sees her walk out with an axe at her side.

[strangerchurby]

Last two days were sorta crazy. But hey, I'm back and let's get our golden werewolf boy on the move.

Original Idea/Steve Post by @shieldofiron

[ 1 ] [ 2 ] [ 3 ] [ 4 ] [ Here ] [ 6 ] [ 7 ] [ 8 ]

Or Read on Ao3

The most logical way to stay safe and avoid getting captured again is, of course, to avoid the roads. So obviously Billy is doing his best to find one. Way he figures it, maybe he isn't as familiar with the greater Indiana area (and fuck does he hope he's still in Indiana), but he's got a plan. See roads, even through random areas, will eventually have signs. Signs that eventually lead to freeways. And once you hit the US highway system things are laid out in a slightly logical way.

All he needs to know is what major road he's on and from there he'll find his way to Max.

Of course finding any road is the first step.

At least he isn't alone in the quest. Even now, hours after his meal, he trots along what looks like beaten paths in the forest and doesn't have to worry about being alone. He twists his head just enough to catch sight of his passenger. The crow, apparently intrigued by him, had eventually given up on trying to fly after him or along beside him through the trees and had chosen to land on his back. The weight of the bird was negligible and it didn't seem to have any problem with keeping its balance on his broad back.

If he wasn't a wolf he might worry he looks ridiculous like this, like those stupid pictures of hippos in textbooks with birds hanging out on their backs and heads. But hippos look pretty dumb and Billy, he best he looks cool. Black looks good against the almost golden fur of his coat. It even looks good with the silvery-white parts that he'd found under the blood once he'd cleaned it off.

For a wolf he supposes he's a fine specimen. Not that Billy thinks it matters.

Caw, the bird laments from his back. Maybe laments? Billy doesn't speak crow after all.

He does pause and that seems to be all that the crow needs. It immediately throws itself into the air, the wind from its wings ruffling Billy's fur. It makes another few angry noises at Billy before flying deliberately away from him. There goes having company. And so suddenly too.

Then it hits Billy. The faint scent in the air. Billy tilts his head up more, eyes closing, and sniffs. And oh does that scent ever make his heart leap. His tongue flashes out over his chops.

Car exhaust.

Billy throws himself into a run without hesitation, and he hears the bird caw angrily after him. Well fuck it too. He doesn't care. He runs and runs and oh fuck.

The trees thin and end before he's expecting it, and he's heading right for a spread of asphalt in front of him. Which, of course, not good. Could be cars on the road. Cars could appear any second, and he knows pretty well that people hit animals all the time.

Instinct says stop before his brain does apparently, because his front feet try to put on the brakes. Which they're not good at. The rest of his body hasn't gotten the memo and there's Billy, flipping ass over head and rolling a bit further until he came to a stop. Came to a stop with his muzzle on the edge of the road.

Well, at least no one saw that failure, he reminds himself as he starts to push back to his feet.

Which of course leads immediately to more cawing behind him. Cawing in a pattern that almost sounds like laughter. Billy twists toward it, catches sight of his bird associate, and snarls at it. What a jerk.

Probably the sort of individual he'd be friends with if they were both people right now. But that's not happening. So Billy huffs and backs up from the road to start to try and figure out just where he is. With a sigh he starts down the road. Well, beside it actually. To keep safe from cars.

Actually, the safest he could be would be to stay in the trees and not actually by the road, but he needs to see signs. So yeah, trotting out in broad daylight (okay, lower early evening light) along the road.

It's nearly an hour by his best reckoning when he sees it. Large. Metal. Ahead of him. Billy runs forward, hope beating in his heart. Be somewhere sensible. Be a road he's familiar with. Be-

Hawkins, 12 miles.

The words blaze white against the green of the sign, and they leave true hope in his heart. Home, only twelve miles away.

Wait. Home?

When had he started to think of Hawkins that way?

Well, at least he's got something to think about as he walks.

[ To Part Six ]

[neonponders]

I’m thinking of a pocketverse scenario where big Billy is a werewolf but the best little Billy can do is sprout ears and a tail. Otherwise, he just bites and awwoooo ‘s a lot 🥺😩😤

[allthingssteddie]

In the village of Hawkins, on the edge of the forest are plagued with two werewolves Edward and William who are searching for their mate.

And will not stop attacking the townpeople until they find him.

[bigdumbbambieyes]

his—

all of steve is his to own

possessive and territorial, billy chases the pretty boy down in the woods

listening to the breaths his prey sucks into his lungs, his lungs squeezing in fear, wheezing out of his throat as he snaps branches underfoot as he runs

runs away

from billy

the moon shines down through the leaves and billy growls, fucking snaps his teeth in the air that’s thick with steve’s scent

heady with musk

it sets off something primal in his brain

catch the prey catch the prey

steve trips and billy throws his head back with a laugh—a howl of pleasure

steve catches himself but it’s too late, billy’s got him, clawing at his denim jacket and pulling the pretty boy back, yanking down the collar of his shirt

licking up steve’s neck just to taste the fear in his sweat, slick on his skin, supple under billy’s sharp teeth

“billy—”

“mine,” billy grins, his chest vibrating with a growl, “say it.”

“no—”

“yes,” billy hums, tastes and smells the arousal in steve’s blood, feels it in his body, “you’re m—”

a sharp elbow to his ribs makes him grunt in pain and steve’s slipping from his grip, tossing a ghost of a grin over his shoulder as he runs off again, calling ‘chase me’ without any words because billy knows, they’ve played this game before and it won’t be the last

under the full moon, billy runs

[runraerun]

AO3 • Rated E • WC: 3.5k (possibly ongoing) • Tags/Warnings: Werewolf!AU, dub-con, fighting, deranged and unhinged behaviour, blood, transformation, more in the fic. • Written for the @harringrovekinktober event!💘

🌕🐺Happy Kinktober ya’ll!🎃💀

Summary:

Steve is his. He belongs to Billy—he’d always belonged to Billy, they both just didn’t know it before tonight.

“Mine.” Billy growls stiffly, always finding it especially difficult to speak around his fangs, along with his moon-drunk state.

Steve answers him with a whimper. It seems he too is beyond words, rendered mute.

I’ll fix it. Billy vows, unable to form the words now. Too far gone. Regardless, he tries to push the sentiment through his and Steve’s bond that hasn’t snapped in place yet. He nuzzles a nose into the shell of his future mates ear. I’ll make it better.

Or, what if everything that happened in season 2 was the same except Billy was a werewolf.