#werewolf Steve

[piratefishmama]

Werewolf Steve, but he's just like. A dog. As a werewolf. He behaves like a dog. He has no awareness of human shit as a wolf. He's just a big fluffy idiot that howls at the moon, barks at mirrors, rolls in dirt, and chews furniture.

He also thinks he's a lapdog when he is, in fact. Not.

[paceprompting]

paper kiss

written for ‘mistletoe’ wc: 982 # | steddie | rated: t | cw: no warnings apply | tags: pre-relationship, pining, fluff, werewolf steve, human eddie

@steddieholidaydrabbles

Steve had a problem.

Call in the troops, all hands on deck, cannot afford to fail level of problem.

Except he couldn’t exactly go around blabbing this issue to the entire party. Dustin alone would blab in five seconds, and he’d never hear the end of it for as long as he lived.

How was he supposed to admit the simultaneously best and worst idea he’d ever had to kiss Eddie for the first time?

Eddie had never the opportunity for the romantic nonsense, even if he rolled his eyes or stuck out his tongue at any sight of it. Eddie’s walls were covered in thorns and bristles from years of needing to bite first what usually came to harm him.

Steve, on the other hand, was highly practiced in romantic nonsense.

So, clearly: Christmas time equaled mistletoe.

Genius in its simplicity.

Idiotic in that it was fatal.

Because now he was basically supernaturally allergic to the stuff.

You get bit by one demodog and you had severe drawbacks, go figure.

It was hard enough trying not to stick his nose in Eddie’s collarbone—scenting, Robin called it. He didn’t want to know what the hell she was reading—and envelop himself in Eddie's forest, smoky scent while leaving his own behind. Even though he was literally the only person in Hawkins who could smell the difference, getting bit had come with all these other weird instincts.

Somehow, dealing with the transformation every full moon was easier than navigating daily life when every slight against the kids, against Robin, against Eddie had his claws and fangs bursting out with an inhuman snarl.

That he needed nearly two and half times more calories than ever just to not feel like he was going to pass out by midday.

When every time he looked at Eddie, he wanted so intensely his jaw hurt until they were close enough Steve could catch his scent. Close enough to always know he was okay because Steve was close enough to get to him.

Steve sighed, tapping his fingers on the counter.

“I’m just going to buy some.”

Robin leaned into his eyeline, a fearsome frown on her face, and jabbed her finger into his chest. “You’ll die, dingus.”

“Only if I directly inhale it.”

She flicked him. “Why is it important?”

Eddie wasn’t at the house, yet. He had chauffeur duty for the impeding Christmas-ification of Steve’s house—tinsel, garlands, lights, the whole nine yards—and the plan had led to Steve’s badly wonderful idea.

The kids would be so distracted decorating/devastating his house, Steve could easily pull Eddie aside for a private moment.

And they had both been too much shit. Eddie was worth more than a plain old kiss.

The kids entered the house in a whirlwind, shouting and laying out boxes and shopping bags to tear into without so much as a hello. Steve chuckled to himself.

He smelled Eddie before he saw him, and raised his head. His dark curls were dotted with melting snow, cheeks pinkened by the cold. Eddie stared intently at them, with something hidden in his hands.

Robin dismissed herself, hissing quietly at him before she darted off, “Just do it.”

Eddie didn’t watch her leave, slowly stepping into the kitchen until Steve met him halfway. Steve still couldn’t see what he was holding, Eddie’s fingers curled around something small.

Steve breathed in his fresh scent—pine forest and smoke—the tension in his shoulders fading.

“Um, I had this, sort of…thing. An idea,” Eddie started quietly.

“Do I get to hear it?”

Eddie started to roll his eyes, and then stopped himself. Like he was trying not to fall into old habits. Strange.

This idea had to be something special.

“So, I really want to kiss you.”

Steve’s heart pounded so loud in his ears, he hardly processed that Eddie had kept speaking, his enclosed hands moving in their usual way. Drew Steve’s attention all the more to what he was hiding.

“I thought, Christmas, mistletoe. Perfect opportunity.” Steve bit his lip to keep from smiling, since Eddie had gone onto the inevitable conclusion. “And then I remembered that would probably kill you before we ever got to enjoy it.”

Steve clicked his tongue. “Yeah.”

“So, instead, I made this.” Eddie opened his hands, and extended out what looked like a small plant with oval leaves and red berries.

Hesitantly, Steve reached for it. Eddie wasn’t about to poison him, but Steve wasn’t sure what to expect as he grabbed with two fingers at the nearest leaf. The thing crinkled as Steve lifted it.

“Paper,” he said with a soft smile.

He held the faux-mistletoe in one hand, examining it with the other. Stems of green oval leaves, tiny red berried and tied together at the top with a white ribbon. It was soft and slightly fuzzy like construction paper, and Steve faintly smelled Eddie’s pine forest all over it.

“And safe,” Eddie said.

All this to overcome Steve’s werewolf allergy. Because they both wanted to kiss.

For some reason, particularly under mistletoe.

Steve looked at Eddie, his eyes wide and waiting. He chuckled. “We have made this so complicated.”

Eddie arched a brow.

“You transform into a hairy beast every full moon and I really want you to hold me down and lick me all over the rest of the month. Let’s just say our lives haven’t been simple for a while.” He stepped close, plucking the mistletoe from Steve’s hand to run it over his lips.

He flicked his eyes toward Steve over the paper leaves, playful and heated. A pleased growl rumbled through Steve’s chest, and Eddie’s eyes just gleamed. They had moved close enough that all one of them had to do was drift that much closer.

“Are you going to kiss the mistletoe?” Steve asked, peering at Eddie’s mouth and imagining the taste of pine and smoke. “Or me?”

[venomous-soliloquy]

Teasers for a very, very naughty image for this Halloween~

You can view the full image here

[thorniest-rose]

I know the fandom loves werewolf Steve so let me please pitch the idea of pack mommy werewolf Steve who's extremely protective of all the children and who wants to bite Eddie and for Eddie to give him a baby.

[the-angst-chronicles-fanworks]

The Wolf and The Witch

Part 1/?

Steve knows better than to enter the Witchwood. He’d been warned from the time he was a child, back before the wolf, that it was home to its namesake. And not just any witch, a dangerous one. One that had killed an entire hunting party, unprompted, with the flick of a finger. None who have entered those woods since have ever returned.

Steve knows better than to enter the Witchwood, but he doesn’t have a choice. Robin is slumped over his back, hands clenched tightly in his fur, clinging desperately to consciousness. He can feel her blood, warm and sticky, matting the fur of his back. His own gait is slowed, every step jolting the silver teeth digging into his right hind leg and sending sharp pain shooting through him. He’s not sure how much longer he can run, and he can hear them - the bloodthirsty cries of the townsfolk dead set on his murder.

They had been found out. So many cycles of living in this town, living among its residents as a friend and neighbour, and still they’ve all turned on him. Of all the times for it to happen, too. It was the moon he had agreed to make Robin a wolf. She had already been weakened from the wolf taking hold when they had been attacked, the silver already a weakness but her body not yet given over to the strength of the wolf.

Steve wishes he could take her to Nancy, knows Nancy would help despite everything, but the townspeople have blocked them off, funneled him in his blind panic. His only hope is to lose them is the wood, but even then he might lose Robin to his own fumbling medical knowledge.

But first, he has to get away from their pursuers. Steeling himself with a deep breath, Steve enters the Witchwood.

————————————————————————

Eddie is no stranger to people trying to do him harm. It’s been a constant in his life from the time he was a child, long before his gifts had awakened. And one that had- well. It’s been a constant of his life, sure as the cycle of the moon and sun. So he notices the prickle of someone entering the woods, but he gives it no regard. It happens a few times a year, that someone gets it into their heads that they will be the one to kill “The Witch of the Woods”. None ever even make it to him, losing themselves in the enchanted trees.

These trees are older than him, and their magic is their own. They like him and welcome him among them, but otherwise are hostile to outsiders. In the beginning, he had tried to help those who became lost in the woods, but those days have long since passed. Despite what his uncle says about his soft heart, Eddie’s become bitter and jaded and he no longer pays any mind to those who venture into the woods.

But this time, something is different. Eddie feels the disturbance of someone crossing into the forest, feels the shift of magic as the forest warps around them, and it’s… different. The ways and paths of the trees are second nature to him, he can tell by the shimmer of magic against his skin which paths have been revealed and which hidden away and this…

The forest is being lenient, gentle. The interlopers are shown the ways to peaceful places, soft and danger-free. Eddie can recall only a few times that the forest has been kind to intruders, and it has almost exclusively been to children.

So he’s more than curious already when he feels the buzz of more people crossing the boundary into the woods. A lot more. And Eddie realizes that this hunt is not for him.

The trees are not so kind this time, opening its twists and turns like a maze, a trap for anyone foolish enough not to turn back immediately. They don’t, of course. They never do. Eddie pays them no mind, drawn instead by curiosity to the two that are being pursued.

He steps between the trees, slipping into a space that’s folded away between reality, picking his way with ease through paths that are there and paths that are not until he emerges at the edge of a small clearing, moonlit and mossy. Theres a tiny spring-fed pond and there, limping toward it, is a wolf. It’s huge, the size of a small bear, with a strong frame and thick russet fur.

It notices him at the same time as he notices it, and it’s massive head swings to face him, teeth already bared in a snarl. It’s hackles raise, and it turns fully, squaring up, a threatening growl rumbling across the little clearing to him.

Eddie steps back, already gathering his power until it glows around him with dark energy, because this is no normal wolf. Even without the size and the silver trap clamped around its leg giving it away, he can see it in its eyes, feel in its presence that this is something more.

He recalls his childhood, the warning tales at his mother’s knee. He remebers later, freshly chased out of town and taken in by his uncle, watching as the old man leafed through his ancient book and warned Eddie that he wasn’t the only dangerous thing in the wilds. Eddie has no doubt that he’s come across one of those dangerous things now. He looks at the wolf and knows exactly what he’s seeing.

A werewolf.

[sevenmerrymagpies]

Steve and Robin make a bet that if she asks Vickie out over Thanksgiving Break, Steve will have to ask Eddie out. Fluffy first dates for Rovickie result.

[artaxlivs]

Listen, I know all of you could make moodboards but I couldn't! I’m so old that I remember VCRs though so like, chill, okay? But I wanted one for another fic and finally decided to figure it out...I made five of them last night - hey, I said CHILL. 😅 I know, I'm late to the party and I've revealed that I am, in fact, older than 25 but I don't care. Look at my cute moodboard for my Steddie werewolf fic from last year!

In case you missed it, here's the link: Even Flowers Have Their Dangers

[gracegrove]

Werewolf Billy is all fine and good. But Werewolf Steve? Wolfboy Steve and newbie Billy? Steve who's probably turned a few classmates over the course of his sexual and licanthropal debut.

A Steve who loves to bury bones in Billy's backyard. Pun intended. But also literally intended. Neil being absolutely horrified that some wild animal is tearing up his newly manicured lawn.

A Steve who leaves a dear carcass on Billy's front porch because what fellow apex predator wouldn't want some tasty venison?

A Steve that excitedly asks at school, "anything fun happen this morning?" To ask about his found gift, only to whine and reflexively snap his canines when Billy grabs him by the ear and drags him around a corner and out of sight to talk.

"You think that was funny, fuckwit?" Billy sneers, jabbing a finger into the brunette's chest. Steve smiles beguilingly, hand wrapping over Billy's as he leans in, eyes narrowing and predatory. "You liked it..." He concludes with a thick wet lick of his tongue over Billy's cheek.

Billy blinks back shocked into steely eyes, just daring him to raise his voice or act disgusted.

[steddie-fanfic-recs]

Nothing Hurts (Like Your Mouth)

by AidaRonan

Rating: Explicit Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationship: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson Character: Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson Additional Tags: Blood, Blood Kink, Biting, Scratching, d/s dynamics, Monsterfucking, literally this is monsters fucking, Topping from the Bottom, vamp eddie, Werewolf Steve, mausoleum sex, cemetery sex, Coffin sex, Prehensile Tail, Tail Insertion, They Did The Monster Mash, it was a graveyard smash, Smut with a happy ending, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, not canon compliant - has actually never even met canon, Porn with Feelings Words: 4,125 Chapters: 1/1

Summary

It's the full moon and Steve's got an itch that needs to be scratched.

[fandomfluffandfuck]

sub top puppy steve is such a top tier concept thank you so much for introducing me to it because it lives in the back of my mind. just the idea of big clumsy steve so eager to please and be good—ugh.

(probably) related to this specifically and the whole tag #puppy steve on my blog in general

You're so welcome, it's one of my favorite thoughts, too... I just 😮‍💨 who doesn't love a needy, pathetic puppy? Panting and sweet and dumb.

Hell yeah, you better believe he's more than strong enough to throw his partner around, but he can't. His dick gets wet, and he turns s-t-u-p-i-d. It feels so good that he whimpers, eyes rolling back, and any smooth movement of his hips turns choppy--more like humping than fucking.

[mylevisdontfitanymore]

do you have any more thoughts about your stevebucky werewolf au? i love it very much, it holds a very special place in my heart ❤️

Original werewolf Steve

Follow up werewolf Steve

Aw, thank you! ❤️

I was having trouble thinking about what more I could add to this alternative universe that wouldn't be redundant because werewolf puppy Steve scrambles my brain so hard.

If anyone brings him up, suddenly I don't know anything. There are no words but lots of in-my-pants feelings. Nothing but big, fat, dumb puppy Steve that crawls on all-fours with his belly dragging on the ground for as long as he's still able to wobble forward. Still mobile. And even when he can move…

He's too big.

That belly is blubbery and thick and heavy. It leaves his back arching deeply. Bloated full of enough meat to satiate the ravenous wolf inside him along and bloated full of sloshy alcohol because the wolf inside Steve is obsessive, relentless, and it's been trained to crave, to ache for enough alcohol to drown in.

BUT inspiration struck ✨️✨️✨️

And as I was thinking about Steve, blubbery and wobbling, I had a new thought that scrambled my fragile little brain.

What happens when Steve fattens up from the monthly gorges?

I-

*gulp*

I have some ideas.

Unbeta'd stucky belly kink nonsense. Warnings for stuffing, weight gain, mobility issues, immobility, animal play (werewolf/puppy), etc.

Eventually, with month after month of gorges under the light of the full moon and the eyes of his indulgent lover, Steve begins to blow. up. His wolf form and his human form. Both go through rapid transformations that have nothing to do with the moon's cycle.

Steve's wolf form: his lean, all-muscle, powerful frame blooms into the body of a soft, excessive, lazy housepet. He's more of a puppy than a wolf than ever before. He gets softer and softer until even when he's bloated beyond belief with food and alcohol - taut and flushed red under his fur - his belly fits in with the rest of his frame. He starts to look fat all the time in wolf form. Bloated or not. It's unmistakable. It's not just a belly that looks like it's fake, sticking out. His legs don't ripple with muscle. Instead, they jiggle with fat. His belly hangs hugely underneath his swollen chest and forces his legs apart wider, altering how he prowls. He lumbers. It's much less intimidating and much hotter. Clumsy and uncoordinated because his hunger is so out of control. His spine is buried by not only his thick fur but his new blubber as well. Nowhere on his body is immune to the weight he packs on. His muzzle even fills out. Bucky didn't know wolves could get fat faces! His puppy-wolf has a chubby face. So cute.

Steve's human form: his lean, all-muscle, powerful frame becomes buried under layers and layers of fat. His human form fattens much faster than his wolf form; somehow, the wolf has a faster metabolism than Steve's serum-fast metabolism. His chin doubles sweetly, and his cheekbones go from model-sharp to biscuit-dough soft. Those broad shoulders round out with fat. His biceps look even fucking bigger than usual - pillowy, not hard - and strain all of his shirt sleeves, no matter how fast he sizes up, he just can't keep up. He's growing too big too quickly. Plumping up. His chest swells and swells from masculine and hard to swollen and flabby. He doesn't have pecs, he has tits. "Worst" of all, his belly explodes out. Despite how soft his gut gets, it retains the most mouth-watering round shape. It's a perfect dome. The tight, pale surface of the ball attached to him is only broken by the stretch of his belly button and his white, healed stretch marks. His ass is monstrous, as are his thighs. Jiggly. Pale. Big.

Big.

Steve gets bigger and bigger and bigger.

Until…

He's vast.

He is massive.

He is so fucking oversized and fattened that he struggles to move in his human form.

Steve is so fat that his gut and swollen tits weigh down on his plush thighs so heavily and seemingly overnight he can't, without Bucky's help, heave himself to standing. At that point, even with Bucky's help, by the time he gets to his feet, he's panting and sweating. Every breath makes him jiggle. He's red in the face and so hot. In more ways than one. All this insulation is hot and it's heavy, heavy on his cock. It's hot and humiliating. He used to run miles and miles without breaking a sweat, yet now he can't get from reclining on his fat, cushioned ass to his feet (which he hasn't been able to see for… a while) without panting and growing damp with sweat.

Oh, God.

What happened to him?

How did he get like this? 😫

How did he get like this? 🥵

He's never dreamed that he could overpower his body ever again. Not since the serum entered his veins. But. Here he is.

He's overcome his super muscles.

He's transformed his body again. He is huge.

Mammoth.

So fucking fat and soft and plush and-

So hungry.

He can't ever stop eating. He constantly has something in his mouth and much more inside his stomach. Filling him. Bloating him. Stuffing him. So fucking hungry.

It gets worse when Steve's in wolf form. His appetite increases exponentially. Steve can not control himself. He has to gorge. Feast. Glut. Devour. He feels absolutely starved in wolf form. He can't pack anything and everything into his hungry yet overfed maw fast enough. He can't swallow anything that ends up in front of his face for more than five seconds fast enough. He can't get enough.

No wonder he ballooned… 😮‍💨

But with all the fat that's piled up on his frame -

Steve can't move.

He's overpowered the serum in his veins and he's overpowered the wolf inside him.

All he can do, now that he's grown so fucking unbelievably massive, is lay on his bloated side and whimper. Desperate for food; desperate for prey to fill him deliciously.

Filling up is the only thing that stops him from complaining. It feels so good. Too bad he always needs more.

When Steve tries to roll over onto all-fours, needing so badly to hunt, he can't actually make it. He's too heavy. Too fat and clumsy. He can't get there.

Besides, if Bucky helps roll him onto all-fours, Steve can't go anywhere, anyway. He's all belly. His belly fills the space between him and the floor and more. On all fours in wolf form, he lays out on top of his gut, a little wolf attached to this obscene, huge belly.

His days of hunting are long behind him. The closest Steve gets to hunting these days are growling and snapping his teeth pathetically, non-threateningly at Bucky when Bucky teases him and doesn't push the end of the funnel straight into his mouth, instead dangling it just out of reach. What's he gonna do? He can't fucking move. He's all fat. Plush, wobbly fat. Bucky can do whatever he wants to his puppy. He can funnel endless amounts of beer and melted ice cream into him until he's lifted a few more inches off the floor from the inflation of his tanker gut. He can grab handfuls and handfuls of his fuzzy, jiggly fat. He can roll his puppy around if he likes. There are no hard edges left to his wolf. Only soft fat. Perfect to grope and admire.

Steve is a blimp. He's not a werewolf. He's pathetic. Perfectly shaped. He went from dragging his belly against the floor to his belly being the only thing resting on the floor. It's unbearably hot.

Bucky isn't sure how Steve could possibly get any bigger but… if he can, he will. Bucky will make sure he will. Human Steve and wolf Steve. Human Steve can still walk after all. That has to change, doesn't it? 😈

I hope you enjoyed ❤️

[venomous-soliloquy]

WIP

Witch Tony and Werewolf Steve having some fun~

[thorniest-rose]

I came to your blog to ask if you knew any good books with werewolves and then!!! I saw your post about werewolf mommy Steve!!! Anyways I’m under the firm belief that werewolf Steve would ABSOLUTELY be the pack mom and would kill anyone who mistreated his pups

Oh I love that!!! Steve WOULD be the pack mom, he'd always be looking after the pups and rounding them up and would snarl and snap at anyone who comes near them but then Eddie comes along who smells like mate and Steve goes all drippy and wet because he knows he should feel threatened by the other man instead he just wants to bite him and bare his own throat.

[kokoshka67]

My blorbos living in the void as they should

[pandagirl45]

Rhodey: *sees werewolf steve*

Steve: I'm sorry rhodey... im.. I'm a mo-

Rhodey: *petting under his chin* do i have to call pup?

Steve: *shudders* rhodey, why are you so normal but weird? *nuzzles him*

Rhodey: it comes with being friends with tony, come let get you some food *smooths out his fur* and maybe your blanket

Steve: *growls happily following him*

[bigmammallama5]

worked on some stuff today i cant share just yet so here are my warm up doodles of my new favorite oc, werewolf steve. just let the man sleep, he's so tired. he has a flip phone and his ring tone is Dolly Parton's 9 to 5.