#angel & devil steddie

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

stuffed

kinktober, day three

a/n: i've had this image stuck in my brain since like april or something, fucking finally wrote it down

warnings: devil!eddie munson x reader x angel!steve harrington, smut, threesome, tentacle sex, kissing, dirty talk, unprotected sex, penetrative sex, double penetration, double penetration in one hole, the boys bickering as usual

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

masterlist | join my taglist | devil & angel AU masterlist | kinktober 2023

“Fuck,” Steve nipped at your lips, a tangle of his, and the other entity’s behind you, ethereal tentacles holding you aloft between them, “your pussy feels so good when you’re all stuffed like this…”

Hearing an all too familiar demonic scoff in your ear, “you think her pussy feels good right now? Really? You don’t know what you’re talking about because her ass right now is fucking insane,” Eddie snapped his hips harshly, skin clapping loudly as he buried himself even deeper, “like actual magic.”

“What,” a cruel chuckle rumbled within the angel’s chest, “you wanna pull out and let me feel? Just fill up all of her by myself, because I’d be happy to stuff her full all on my own, thanks.” 

“Fucking let you?” Eddie actually laughed, “yeah right,” before he unexpectedly forced one of his inky tendrils into your cunt, right beside where Steve’s rough rhythm was steadily making it weep.

“Oh my god!” your hazy eyes snapped open, having fully blocked out their bickering over your shoulder as it was such a typical thing at this point. 

Plunging in just as far as the celestial cock, that already stretched you out, went, “shit,” the demon moaned, “maybe you aren’t as crazy as you sound, Harrington. Her pussy does feel amazing.”

Head falling back against Eddie’s shoulder, you just managed to spot the flame in Steve’s glare before you felt him slam one of his own gleaming tentacles into your ass. You had already been so overwhelmed prior to their petty tiff, unsure how you were able to simultaneously take just their dicks in your holes, just that stretched you out beyond belief, “fuck, g-guys, guys!” 

“What is it, baby?” you heard the lewd squelch of their efforts quadruple and echo throughout the room, “can you not take it?” Eddie’s dark whisper resonated directly in your ear, “can you not take letting us feel all of you at the same time?”

© 2023 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[infinite-orangepeel]

shut up shut up shut up !! he’s literally the prettiest girl in the world ! like okay mr little ms sunshine

[fandom]

Ships

Unexpected connections happen in two places: the Ships list and Feeld—a dating app for the curious. On Feeld, finding like-minded people is as fulfilling as finding yourself. In celebration of ships, here are this year’s iconic connections.

Ineffable Husbands +17 Aziraphale & Crowley, Good Omens

Steddie Steve Harrington & Eddie Munson, Stranger Things

Destiel Dean Winchester & Castiel, Supernatural

Byler -3 Will Byers & Mike Wheeler, Stranger Things

Wenclair Wednesday Addams & Enid Sinclair, Wednesday

Bowuigi Bowser & Luigi, the Super Mario Bros. franchise

Huntlow +7 Hunter & Willow Park, The Owl House

Avatrice Ava Silva & Beatrice, Warrior Nun

Hannigram +2 Hannibal Lecter & Will Graham, Hannibal

Buddie -4 Evan Buckley & Edmundo Diaz, 9-1-1

Vashwood Vash the Stampede & Nicholas D. Wolfwood, Trigun Stampede

Zelink +80 Zelda & Link, The Legend of Zelda

Lumity -6 Luz Noceda & Amity Blight, The Owl House

Ghostsoap Simon “Ghost” Riley & John “Soap” MacTavish, the Call of Duty franchise

Blackbonnet -11 Edward Teach/Blackbeard & Stede Bonnet, Our Flag Means Death

Wolfstar +8 Remus Lupin & Sirius Black, the Harry Potter universe

Merthur +12 Merlin & Arthur Pendragon, Merlin

Jegulus +25 James Potter & Regulus Black, the Harry Potter universe

Bumbleby +48 Yang Xiao Long & Blake Belladonna, RWBY

Bakudeku -4 Bakugou Katsuki & Midoriya Izuku, Boku no Hero Academia

Dreamling -1 Dream of the Endless & Hob Gadling, The Sandman

Soukoku +60 Nakahara Chuuya & Dazai Osamu, Bungou Stray Dogs

Firstprince Alex Claremont-Diaz & Prince Henry of Wales, Red, White & Royal Blue

Wesper Wylan Van Eck & Jesper Fahey, the Grishaverse

Wangxian -8 Lan Wangji & Wei Wuxian, Mo Dao Zu Shi

Satosugu +23 Gojo Satoru & Geto Suguru, Jujutsu Kaisen

Imodna +8 Imogen Temult & Laudna, Critical Role

Kanej +44 Kaz Brekker & Inej Ghafa, the Grishaverse

Bubbline Princess Bubblegum & Marceline, Adventure Time

Ladynoir -17 Ladybug & Chat Noir, Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug & Cat Noir

Twiyor +6 Loid Forger & Yor Forger, SPY x FAMILY

Loustat +43 Louis de Pointe du Lac & Lestat de Lioncourt, Interview with the Vampire

Zosan Roronoa Zoro & Vinsmoke Sanji, One Piece

Marichat -12 Marinette Dupain-Cheng & Chat Noir, Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug & Cat Noir

Serirei +65 Serizawa Katsuya & Reigen Arataka, Mob Psycho 100

Adrienette -21 Adrien Agreste & Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug & Cat Noir

Chenford +24 Lucy Chen & Tim Bradford, The Rookie

Petrigrof Simon Petrikov & Betty Grof, Adventure Time: Fionna and Cake

Kavetham Kaveh & Alhaitham, Genshin Impact

Griddlehark +54 Gideon Nav & Harrowhark Nonagesimus, The Locked Tomb series

Raeda -13 Raine Whispers & Eda Clawthorne, The Owl House

Tomgreg -19 Tom Wambsgans & Greg Hirsch, Succession

Hanamusa Jessie & Delia Ketchum, the Pokémon franchise

Zolu Roronoa Zoro & Monkey D. Luffy, One Piece

Narumitsu -12 Phoenix Wright & Miles Edgeworth, Ace Attorney

Sonadow +23 Sonic & Shadow, Sonic the Hedgehog

Ineffable Bureaucracy Archangel Gabriel & Beelzebub, Good Omens

Spirk +9 Spock & James Kirk, Star Trek

Ballister x Ambrosius Ballister Boldheart & Ambrosius Goldenloin, Nimona

Nandermo -42 Nandor the Relentless & Guillermo de la Cruz, What We Do in the Shadows

Jonmartin -15 Jonathan Sims & Martin Blackwood, The Magnus Archives

Punkflower Hobie Brown & Miles Morales, Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse

AkiAngel Aki Hayakawa & the Angel Devil, Chainsaw Man

Ronance -49 Robin Buckley & Nancy Wheeler, Stranger Things

Superbat -11 Superman & Batman, the DC universe

Shuake Ren Amamiya/Joker & Goro Akechi, Persona 5

Geraskier -48 Geralt of Rivia & Jaskier, The Witcher

Hualian -18 Hua Cheng & Xie Lian, Tian Guan Ci Fu

Sulemio Suletta Mercury & Miorine Rembran, Mobile Suit Gundam: The Witch from Mercury

Sterek -5 Stiles Stilinski & Derek Hale, Teen Wolf

Gumlee Prince Gumball & Marshall Lee, Adventure Time: Fionna and Cake

Shadowpeach Sun Wukong & the Six-Eared Macaque, Lego Monkie Kid

Drarry -29 Draco Malfoy & Harry Potter, the Harry Potter universe

Wilmon Prince Wilhelm & Simon Eriksson, Young Royals

Harringrove -34 Steve Harrington & Billy Hargrove, Stranger Things

Kazurei Suwa Rei & Kurusu Kazuki, Buddy Daddies

Lestappen Charles Leclerc & Max Verstappen, Formula 1 drivers

Zukka -5 Zuko & Sokka, Avatar: The Last Airbender

Codywan +8 Commander Cody & Obi-Wan Kenobi, Star Wars: The Clone Wars

Solangelo -23 Will Solace & Nico di Angelo, the Percy Jackson universe

Catradora Catra & Adora, She-Ra and the Princesses of Power

Shadowgast -4 Caleb Widogast & Essek Thelyss, Critical Role

Stucky -43 Steve Rogers & Bucky Barnes, the Marvel universe

Tarlos -18 TK Strand & Carlos Reyes, 9-1-1: Lone Star

Johnlock +21 John Watson & Sherlock Holmes, Sherlock

Sasunaru -24 Uchiha Sasuke & Uzumaki Naruto, Naruto

Locklyle Anthony Lockwood & Lucy Carlyle, Lockwood & Co.

Lokius Loki Laufeyson & Mobius M. Mobius, the Marvel universe

Supercorp -67 Kara Danvers & Lena Luthor, Supergirl

Piltover's Finest Caitlyn Kiramman & Vi, Arcane

Helnik Matthias Helvar & Nina Zenik, the Grishaverse

Prohibitedwish Scarab & Prismo, Adventure Time

Klance -12 Keith & Lance, Voltron: Legendary Defender

Reylo Rey & Kylo Ren, the Star Wars universe

Hanazawa Teruki & Kageyama Shigeo, Mob Psycho 100

Cockles -44 Misha Collins & Jensen Ackles, Actors

Percabeth -46 Percy Jackson & Annabeth Chase, the Percy Jackson universe

Astarion x Tav Astarion & Tav, Baldur's Gate 3

Timkon Tim Drake & Conner Kent, Young Justice

Davekat Dave Strider & Karkat Vantas, Homestuck

Cynonari Cyno & Tighnari, Genshin Impact

Creek Craig Tucker & Tweek Tweak, South Park

Klapollo Apollo Justice & Klavier Gavin, Ace Attorney

Style Stan Marsh & Kyle Brovlofski, South Park

Korrasami -11 Korra & Asami Sato, The Legend of Korra

Bill x Frank Bill & Frank, The Last of Us

Nick x Charlie -51 Nick Nelson & Charlie Spring, Heartstopper

Dreamnotfound -50 Dreamwastaken & GeorgeNotFound, Streamers

Dinluke -33 Din Djarin & Luke Skywalker, the Star Wars universe

Rhaenicent Rhaenyra Targaryen & Alicent Hightower, House of the Dragon

The number in italics indicates how many spots a ship moved up or down from the previous year. Bolded ships weren’t on the list last year. Explore your desires on Feeld. Within a safer, inclusive space, you can feel free to connect more intimately to yourself and others. Choose from over 20 gender and sexuality options and explore solo, or with a partner. Curious? Download the app today.

[ladykailitha]

The Fallen

I blame @vecnuthy for this entirely. Seeing all their Sleep Token posts has completely intersected with Steddie and you get this.

***

Modern AU: Corroded Coffin makes it big. Like Metallica levels huge. Like every up and coming metal band is clamoring to open for them levels of fame. When this metal band, The Fallen comes on the scene and are dismissed as glam rock wannabes.

They are very theatrical. They are dressed in long coats with hoods and face masks. The guitarist, bassist, and drummer all have full Venetian masks of different colors. The bassist has one that looks like a starry night (but not Starry Night if you know what I mean). The Guitarist has a red devil’s mask, horns and all. The drummer is in a black death mask. The eyes of the mask are closed and it looks eerie as fuck. The most dramatic of the masks belong to the lead singer. He wears an opaque white lace mask with the mouth and chin cut out so he can sing.

Their outfits match their masks.

The lead singer, Abbadon, the fallen angel is in all in white with a splash of color on the lining of his coat. Sometimes it’s pink or baby blue, sometimes it one of the colors of bandmates, black or red or starry midnight blue. He wears high heeled boats and not always of the combat variety. Once he wore stilettos with a baby blue stripe up the side. It’s the outfit that gets made into dolls and merch the most. Most of the time he’s shirtless, but has been known to switch it up with lace or sheer tops.

The guitarist plays up the devil persona to a tee and calls himself Asmodeus, the demon of lust. Red leather and fetish gear. Thick red combat boots. His guitar is even blood red.

The bassist is called Astraeus, the titan of the night. While in certain light his clothes look black, but they are in fact a dark blue with bright stars, swirling galaxies, and glowing nebulae. His bass is of the night sky as well.

And finally the drummer, Azrael. Angel of death. Always in black. His drum kit is black with black metal fittings. Even his drumsticks are black.

Like I said, at first dismissed as wannabes but they are killing it. It’s clear that not only are they talented, their flare for the dramatic adds to their mystique. Soon they are the new rising stars of metal.

Dustin is their biggest fan. He loves them. Eddie is offended at the highest level. How dare this little butthead like The Fallen. Dustin rolls his eyes.

“Dude, Corroded Coffin is still number one in my book,” he tells Eddie. “But you can’t deny that Abbadon is a beast on vocals.”

Eddie is forced to concede the point. Abbadon knows how to really get the through to the emotion of a song.

So when Dustin gets front row tickets to The Fallen’s concert in Indy, Eddie reluctantly joins the little twerp.

And the concert starts. First the drummer gets lowered into his seat on giant raven wings.

“Azrael!” the announcer calls out.

And the crowd goes wild.

The man slips out of the harness and wings ascend. Eddie cocks his head, yeah all right that’s kinda cool.

Azrael hits his drums and the bassist gets lowered on to the stage. All shimmering blues and purples, like actual stars, lands deftly on the stage and Azrael hits the high hat.

“Astraeus!”

The crowd is frantic now. Screaming and jumping up and down.

As soon as the wings are unstrapped and lifted away Astraeus riffs on his bass and the crowd eats it up.

Eddie likes this one. It’s unique.

Then Azrael starts up again as another man is lowered and it takes everything in Eddie’s power not to roll his eyes at this one. Red leather gear, horned mask, and fucking bat wings.

He stomps on the stage and really wails on his guitar. Eddie looks over to see that Dustin is absolutely eating it with the rest of them so he wisely keeps his mouth shut.

“Asmodeus!”

Dustin is vibrating so hard that Eddie’s fears he might literally crawl out of his skin with excitement.

And then the entire stadium goes silent. Like stock still. Eddie is looking around him confused.

He looks back at the stage and there descends the absolute most devastatingly handsome man Eddie has ever seen and he hasn’t seen his face.

His arms are out stretched and his head is bowed. Once he lands air cannons shoot out white feathers out at the crowd and the wings ascend without this man.

“Abbadon!” the announcer screams for the final time.

“Indy!” he shouts into his mouthpiece.

And the crowd screams could deafen the most resilient of metal goer.

Abbadon starts singing and the crowd is losing their god damn minds. And yeah, yeah. Eddie is one of them.

They’ve got a stage presence that can’t be manufactured.

And then about half way through the concert he sees it. Abbadon turns his head just right and holy fuck, Eddie is losing his mind for a different reason. He manages to take a picture with his phone before Abbadon turns.

After the concert Eddie grills Dustin about the band all the way home. But the only thing the kid knows is how awesome the band is.

He gets to the hotel and starts watching every interview with The Fallen ever. And he pulls up one from about a year or so back where Abbadon is talking about the masks.

Abbadon pulls out a black mask and holds it up to the light. “See? You can tell that the eyes have mesh covering over them. They work the way two way mirrors do. Azrael can see out of them just fine, but you can’t see in.”

There are a lot of impressed nods, Eddie is definitely one of them. That’s certainly a neat trick.

“So what’s the reason for the masks at all?” the interviewer asks.

Abbadon looks at the members of his band and they all nod. He licks his lips.

“Because if we had been ourselves when we started on the scene,” he said, “we would have be called posers and we wouldn’t have even gotten this far.”

Eddie paused the video and took a deep breath.

Fuck.

Just then Jeff wanders into the hotel room and looks at the TV.

“Is that The Fallen?”

Eddie hums. “Yup.”

Jeff grabs a drink from the mini-fridge and makes his way over. “Oh hey is that poser interview?”

Eddie hums again.

“He can’t really be serious about that,” Jeff says with a huff. “No one in the metal scene would call anyone posers, not if they truly loved the music.”

“We would have,” Eddie says with a finality that brings Jeff up short.

“The fuck we would have, man,” Jeff snaps. “There’s no way.”

“We would have it was Steve Harrington’s band.”

Jeff’s eyes go wide. “There is no way that’s Steve Harrington.”

Eddie pulls out his phone and zooms in on Abbadon’s neck. He hands his phone to Jeff.

“Okay so the dude has moles on his neck,” he says handing the phone back, “lots of people have them.”

Eddie goes through his phone and pulls up a picture of Steve. He’s not in the exact same pose but it’s close enough. He hands the phone to Jeff again.

Jeff squints and then zooms in.

“Holy fucking shit!”

Eddie drapes his hand over his mouth and purses his lips.

“Steve Harrington in a metal band,” Jeff says in awe. “All be damned.”

“When The Fallen came on the scene,” Eddie says dropping his hand so his talk, “we were outselling Metallica in records and ticket sales. If the rest of the band are preps like Steve we would have mocked them relentlessly.”

Jeff sits down hard on the sofa next to Eddie. “Shit.”

Eddie buries his head in his hands.

“We got to tell someone, man,” Jeff says. “This is huge!”

Eddie in his haste to look at Jeff accidentally hits the remote.

“Do you think you’ll ever do a reveal?” the interviewer asks.

Asmodeus leans over to speak in the microphone. “Ask us again in ten years if we’re still selling out crowds.”

Eddie fumbles it again, but manages to turn off the TV.

Jeff and he looks at each other.

“We can’t say shit, man,” Eddie hisses. “It would be like outing someone as gay or trans before they want to.”

Jeff slumps in his seat. “Fuck. Yeah. You’re right. Shit.”

They’re silent for a moment.

Eddie cocks his head to the side. “What I don’t get is how the kids don’t know.”

Jeff opens his mouth and then closes it. He shakes his head slowly. “Sorry but if I was Steve I wouldn’t tell them shit either.”

Eddie frowns. “What do you mean?”

“Look,” Jeff says turning to face him, “they’re great kids. Brilliant D&D players, nerds, geeks, and dorks the lot of them. But I would not trust them with a secret that big.”

Eddie thought about all the time that they accidentally blurted out something that didn’t make sense out of context, but once you knew, holy shit was it a miracle these kids didn’t get into more trouble.

“Yeah okay.”

After a moment of silence Eddie looks over and frowns at Jeff. “What are you doing my hotel room anyway?”

Jeff holds up his beer. “Your beer was cold, I forgot to put mine in the fridge when we got in.”

“Asshole,” Eddie grouses, bumping Jeff’s shoulder.

Jeff kisses his cheek. “You love me though.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.”

*

Steve is in his dressing room after their last concert of the tour for their second album scrubbing the hell out of his face because that mask is prone to giving him the worst breakouts, when he notices the blue roses.

He gets a lot of flowers but never blue roses. He rinses off his face and walks over to the them.

There’s a note and he thinks he recognizes the handwriting. It’s short and sweet and absolutely terrifying.

“I know your secret, sweetheart. But don’t worry, I’ll never tell.”

It’s not signed, but the ‘sweetheart’ gives it away.

He messages Robin.

“Get Eddie Munson in here right now!”

She protests that she doesn’t know where he is. But Steve knows he has to still be in the building and sure enough she finds Eddie waiting in the wings, looking smug as hell.

Her eyes go wide and cursing up a storm drags him into the dressing room.

She presses her back to the door.

“Who told?” she squeaks.

Eddie laughs. “No one, I swear.”

“Then how did you know?” Steve asks.

He hands Steve his phone with the picture he took at the concert. Robin wanders over to peak over Steve’s shoulder.

“So it’s a picture of his neck,” she murmurs.

But suddenly Steve gets it. “It’s my moles!”

Eddie nods, pressing his lips together so he doesn’t giggle.

“Shit!” Robin hisses. “Do you think anyone else figured it out?”

“I doubt it,” Eddie says with a shrug. “I’m just obsessive that way.”

“About moles?” Robin says with a frown.

“With Steve.”

Robin blinks. “Right I’m out of here.”

She closes the door behind her and they are left alone.

The night ends with Eddie in Steve’s bed asking him for The Fallen to join Corroded Coffin on their next tour next year and there is no way Steve could say no to that. His bandmates would kill him.

They go on tour and the hardest part is dodging rumors that Eddie is two timing Steve with Abbadon because when The Fallen and Corroded Coffin perform together they make out on stage.

Then for The Fallen’s ten anniversary they do a reveal and Dustin is livid.

Robin and Steve had been telling him for years that they were just low level PAs and not a famous rockstar and his equally mysterious manager.

They’re forgiven when Steve tells him that half the songs on the first album are about him and the rest of the kids.

***

This is just a rough draft. I might expand on it in full later.

Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @artiststarme @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @pyrohonk ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @danili666 @carlyv @rozzieroos @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @emly03 @bookworm0690 @itsall-taken @vecnuthy @bookbinderbitch @redfreckledwolf @littlewildflowerkitten @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @scheodingers-muppet @mira-jadeamethyst @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @genderless-spoon @anne-bennett-cosplayer @irregular-child

[bettyfrommars]

Season of the Witch

by @allthingsjoeq & @bettyfrommars

steddie x reader

Blair Witch Project au

Warnings: 18+ONLY, found footage horror, hurt/no comfort, fem!reader who is just a friend, no Vecna, angst, lost in the woods, mentions of witchcraft, paranormal happenings, things that go bump in the night, fear of being stalked, allusions to gore and MCD.  Dead dove do not eat. wc: 13k

If you are familiar with the film The Blair Witch Project, you know some of what to expect. This is a horror fic; it will be scary and unsettling at times, so please take caution if the genre makes you uncomfortable. 

Summary: Three friends find themselves in a small town in Maryland, the home of the Blair Witch, in order for Steve Harrington to film a documentary for his semester project.  In tow are his boyfriend, Eddie Munson, and you, a friend he invited along to be his trusty cameraperson.  Once you are too deep in the woods to find your way back, the myths surrounding the lore of the land begin to take shape, and you realize you might never make it out of there alive.

Much love to @allthingsjoeq for all of the blood, sweat, and tears that went into this, and also for calling it "a Marmite fic". We hope you enjoy this contribution to the October festivities! Much love.

Burkittsville Cemetery, Maryland

“Here we are,” Steve Harrington can’t contain the glimmer of wonder in his eyes, behind wire-rimmed spectacles, as he parks near the overgrown site of the cemetery.  

You look up from fiddling with the camera in the back seat as the tires crunch to a halt, already thinking of where the best spot to get a shot of Steve would be for the documentary he’s working on.  You aren’t as familiar with filming as you should be for being his main cameraperson, but you and Steve had become close friends very quickly, and he practically insisted you be a part of it. 

He was especially fascinated with the town you grew up in called Burkittsville in Maryland.  You knew about Steve’s obsession with the paranormal, and the legends that surrounded certain locations, so you told him about your hometown legend—the Blair Witch. You hadn’t been back since you were a kid, but you watched his face light up when you talked about the lore, and all of the possibilities for filming. 

Although Steve had his camera crew of one sorted, he would and could never travel without his partner in crime and in love, Eddie Munson. The metalhead stands now looking out over the cemetery with his black and white flannel over a Bark at the Moon Ozzy Osbourne concert tee, and his hair tied back in a bandana, being the supportive boyfriend. He clamps a hand on Steve’s shoulder to give it a squeeze. “You got this, big boy. Let’s rock ‘n roll.”

Tall grass yields underfoot as you all make your way around the space, bending down to try and read the crumbling grave markers.  

There is a staggering amount of tiny, decaying gravestones, each dedicated to a child who lost their life to unknown, yet presumably horrifying circumstances.

“Shit,” Steve mutters under his breath.  “There’s a lot of kids here.” You film his profile as he says it, shifting the focus back to get Eddie in the frame, and he shoots his tongue out, putting his forefinger and pinky up to make devil horns. 

Steve does a monologue for the camera.  He’s standing on the hill near one of the taller headstones, and the wind makes his hair unruly.  “Here we are in the town of Burkittsville, formerly Blair. As legend has it, around 1785, a Blair resident named Elly Kedward was accused of practicing witchcraft by several children. The children said that she had dragged them from their homes with the intention of drinking their blood. As you can see, there is an unusually large number of children buried on this hill.”

You film different headstones, making sure to capture the stone angel, and a few of the other statues, to splice into the film while Steve is talking for the final cut.  

Interviews with some of the long-time residents in town are next, and in the car ride down the hill, Eddie holds the camera and turns it on you in the back seat.  You cover your face at first, not wanting to be recorded, but he eases you out of it with some of his playful banter.  “Since we’re interviewing people who grew up here, we should start with you, right? What is your experience with the Blair Witch?”

You’d talked about the stories you’d heard so often with Steve, but being in the spotlight made you nervous, and it took a second to find your words.  “No personal experiences, really, but I’ve heard a lot of lore.  Ghost stories, mostly. Stuff to scare us kids so we’d go to bed early.” You shift in your seat and look out the window, but Eddie is waiting for more.  “I, um, well…”

“Leave her alone, Eddie,” Steve responds absently, flipping the blinker to turn into town. The song Season of the Witch by Donovan is on the radio and Steve’s mumbling the lyrics.

“No, it’s okay,” you flex a quick smile.  “If it helps, I mean, I was 8 years old when we left, I don’t know a lot other than what I’ve researched.”

“Your audience is waiting,” Eddie zooms the focus in way too much so that your eyes take up the whole frame.  

“Okay,” you start. “So I guess there were these two guys who were hunting once, up by the cabin Blair Witch is supposed to haunt, and they just disappeared off the face of the earth. Search parties combed the woods for weeks and couldn’t find a trace of them.”

“Maybe they realized they were in love and ran away together,” Eddie chuckles, pushing the heel of his hand into Steve’s shoulder.  

You smile down at your lap. “Could be.”

“One more thing,” Eddie looks at you over the top of the camera and then puts his eye back down to focus.  “Is there a chance we could all end up victims of the Blair Witch?”

You can’t tell if it’s a serious question, but it gives you chills.  Your eyes flick from the camera to the back of Steve’s head and his messy flop of hair.  

“I personally don’t believe in ghosts or witches,” you smile as you say it, and catch Steve’s quick glance at you in the rearview mirror.  “But don’t tell Steve.”

Eddie snorts and puts the camera in his lap but forgets to turn it off. 

“I’m really looking forward to proving you wrong,” Steve’s muffled voice says to you as Eddie rustles the camera down between his legs.  “There’s some spooky shit going on in those woods, and I’m going to get it on film.”

First night, The Motel 

The map of the forest is spread out across the thin, floral spread of the motel bed. Eddie and you stare down at it, identically flicking your eyes across the inked locations, each mirroring the same dazed look of cluelessness. 

“I think, if we start here and then make our way north we’ll get to here,” Steve then circles the center vigorously before saying, “by midday.” 

On the map it's easy to believe the forest only stretches a few miles and Steve’s plan so far seems simple enough, promising this hike to be quick. With the action plan sorted, a large pizza shared, and your survival packs spilling out with textbook necessities, it gives the three of you the rest of the evening to chill. This downtime allows you to mess about a bit and accidentally fill some of the tape space with personal footage. 

You’ve decided to sprawl out on one of the two double beds, propping yourself up on your elbow to film Steve and Eddie’s tiny little tickle fight that started over Steve being adamant that he wasn’t and would never be ticklish. Eddie knows just the right areas on his ribs to challenge with his deft fingers, making Steve squirm and beg for him to stop, while Eddie chuckles and pounces on top of him, making the cheap bed springs squeak.

“Hey, put the camera away,” Steve spots you, and then attempts to lunge off the bed and grab the camera. But you lift it out of his reach with a mischievous giggle.  

Eddie smiles along with you, his gaze falling with admiration on the way Steve’s cheeks turn a rosy pink at the exhilaration.  He throws a wink your way and pokes his tongue at Steve’s back, grabbing his ankle to keep him from leaving the bed. 

“Stevie, have you seen my lighter?” A few minutes later, you start filming again as Eddie is wandering the room in nothing but a pair of boxers and an unzipped hoodie.

“Are you going to smoke now?” Steve asks, checking the batteries in his flashlight.

“What’s wrong with now?”

“Well, you know,” Steve unsubtly tips his head in your direction, worried that you may not be comfortable.

“Oh, no I don’t mind”, you say, not wanting your inexperience to ruin the mood. It makes Eddie raise an eyebrow, your choice of words being music to his ears. 

“See Steve, if anything she’s probably curious,” he extends both hands to you as if you were a prize at the fair.

Eddie bounces on the balls of his feet and begins to dig through his pack's front pocket before retrieving a baggy of rolled joints. He pats around in his vest and produces a green plastic lighter with a triumphant, “a-ha!”

It’s been a while since you’d smoked weed, and you weren’t even sure you liked it, but Eddie’s contagious energy made you want to be a part of whatever he was doing.  He squints as he inhales, holds it, and then passes the joint to you between pinched fingers before releasing a generous plume of smoke. 

You took what you thought was a tiny drag, but it tickles the back of your throat and sends you into a coughing spasm, making you bat your chest with the palm of your hand after handing the joint back. 

“Can’t handle it sweetheart?” Eddie snickers, but then he wiggles his eyebrows at you and takes another drag for himself, passing you a bottle of water from the bedside table. The cap is off and some of it sloshes onto his hand.

“Oh, wait, I have something better,” Eddie says, jumping off the bed to snatch a fifth of whiskey out of his bag.  “Shots?”

“That’s not a bad idea, actually,” Steve adjusts his glasses and pulls back the comforter on his side of the bed to get cozy.  “Just one. We have a long day tomorrow.”

You shrug and nod, eyes bloodshot and watering, while Eddie puts the bottle to his lips and chugs a shot first before handing it to you.  You swallow a big gulp, and Eddie howls at the way your face screws up like you’d just sucked on a lemon.

“Here’s to the Blair Witch,” Steve holds the bottle up before he takes his drink.  “May she grace us with her presence tomorrow.”

Black Hills Forest, Day one, 9am

“Are we filming?” Eddie chimes in, practically vibrating with excitement.  

“The green light is on,” you mumble to yourself, frowning down at the screen on the camera that shows nothing but black.  

“Hey, Indiana Jones,” you call over to Steve who is checking the direction of the wind with a licked finger as he squints into the sun filtering through the dead leaves.  “What am I doing wrong?”

Steve adjusts the strap of his hiking pack and strolls over to you with a tight clench between his eyebrows.  “Give it here,” he sighs, taking it from you. “I just tested it this morning, I know it’s—”

He finally sees the problem and halts.  He makes somber eye contact with you, takes the cover off the lens and holds it up.

“Oh,” you bite the inside of your cheek, stifling a self-conscious laugh. 

“Steve Angelica Harrington,” Eddie grins, throwing his arm around Steve aggressively, almost knocking him over.  “Our hero.”

You lift the camera up to your eye and get both of them in the frame, leaning back to smile at the pair.  Steve shrugs away from Eddie’s attention as if he doesn’t like it, but then there is a moment when he turns and the two almost kiss.  Eddie gives a few exaggerated, puckered smooches and leans in. 

Steve realizes you’re filming and pushes his boyfriend off for real this time, running a hand through his hair to fix himself.  Restless as ever, Eddie comes around to take the camera from you, asks you where certain buttons are, and then points it in your direction.  You shrug him away playfully and shield your face from the nose down with the crook of your arm as if you are Dracula holding your cape.

Steve pops his knee out and tilts his head. “Would you two dorks stop messing around and take this witch hunt seriously? I want this documentary to be a success.”

“So remind me, King Steve,” Eddie turns the camera on his boyfriend, and he does not look amused.  “We’re trying to find the ghost of some child murdering witch from the 1700’s? Should I be trying to spot a gingerbread house too?”

Off camera, you snort and say, “idiot,” under your breath.  

“Eddie,” Steve keeps his profile to the camera, refusing to make eye contact. “Let’s get some footage first and then I’ll let you mess around with the camera.”  He doesn’t want a bunch of adolescent jibber jabber on film. .  

“What, I’m just trying to be helpful,” Eddie shrugs with puppy dog eyes, lowering the device.

He forgets to turn off video again, and as it angles at the ground. Audio catches a distinct sound, like a soft moan, from somewhere in the woods.

Steve holds his hand up for everyone to halt, freezing in place, and a small twig snaps under his foot.  

You open your mouth to speak, something about how it would be better to get a shot of Steve in the clearing, but you are swiftly shushed.

You motion to take the camera from Eddie, and then you point it at Steve, and he turns to you, right in the camera’s eye. His tone is dire:  “Can you hear that humming?” 

“I can’t—” Eddie blurts, but then Steve puts the palm of his hand tight over Eddie’s mouth, wrapping his fingers over his chin, knowing that it was impossible for him to stay quiet under pressure.

Your heart is racing as you concentrate, ears straining.  There is the dry shuffle of the breeze rustling the branches, but otherwise, the silence is eerie and vast. 

“Cut it out, Steve, it’s not funny,” you bristle, locking one arm protectively over your chest while the other attempts to hold the camera in place. Steve is darting his attention around the woods, trying to locate the origin of the sound.

Eddie steps back, moving his mouth away from Steve’s muzzle. “It’s just the wind, baby, it’s making you paranoid,” he offers, noticing the way Steve’s face is drained of its color. Bending down to retrieve the map that fell when Steve got manhandled, one of Eddie’s legs flew out behind him dramatically.  A part of you wonders if Eddie and the map are a good combination, however you keep your thoughts to yourself. 

You’re almost positive you heard a voice in the woods as well, but you decide to keep that close to your chest.

The lingering tension finally subsides, and Eddie reaches back for Steve’s hand to keep him moving in the same direction; to coax him out of his racing thoughts.  Not wanting to waste battery life, you turn the camera off and stumble behind them, actively fighting off the urge to glance over your shoulder at whatever might be following in your wake. 

The next few hours consist of hiking through unused paths and trampling muddy footprints, waiting for Steve to find his perfect backdrop to open his documentary. With the car far behind you and your full 360 view being nothing but trees, Steve finally breaks from his determined stroll.  

“Can we do this now?” You lightly prod. For the last half hour, Steve has been trying to find the right spot to stand, and you felt like his perfectionism will be the death of you.  

Steve has that look, the professional one, when he means business. However, for Steve to enter his little documentary presenter zone he wants to stand alone, the trees being his only sidekick. 

“You can go over there now,” Steve gives Eddie a playful nudge. 

His boyfriend has been on his heels this entire time, but now the metalhead jogs over to grab the camera off of you to keep himself busy, while Steve concentrates, pushing his glasses up on his nose, finding his performance space before he begins.

“The town of Blair has been cursed since the 1700’s,” he starts.

Eddie and you share an encouraging nod, adding a dash of support for Steve to continue.  

“They all warn of the Blair witch, the one known to lure children to her home and sacrifice their souls and use their blood as an offering.” Steve starts to find his rhythm, naturally taking small steps backwards, like a guide, forcing the camera to follow.

“Elly Kedward was eventually found and blamed for the towns disappearances and without trial was banished into these woods in the depth of winter to freeze and perish a worser fate than her victims.” 

There’s a climatic wind gust that passes through the trees, almost like the ghost of a victim's warning, sent to bring the hairs on your arms to rise. It makes Eddie grin, Steve’s eyes widen with interest, and you try to contain a violent shiver; the theatrics of nature perfecting the shot. 

Steve pauses to take in his surroundings for dramatic effect before continuing.

“Her twisted end didn’t sit right, the town of Blair began to notice odd occurrences, noises and symbols from the forest. Locals believe she left a curse. They say she is still roaming in these woods to this day, seaking her revenge and enticing lost souls into her portal to show the devil her true power.” 

Steve takes a breath, pausing before opening his mouth to speak again, but Eddie’s attention span has other ideas. 

“Oh wait,  Steve can you do that again, I didn’t press record,” Eddie says as cool as he can muster, biting the inside of his cheek. 

Steve shoves his hand roughly through his hair and holds it there, tempted to rip the hair from his scalp. “For fuck sake Munson.” 

Quickly breaking into a wild grin Eddie says a quick, “joking babe,” fully accepting the harsh shove Steve jabs to his shoulder, but then Eddie decides to up the antics.  He falls to the ground dramatically and starts to wiggle like a worm.

“Help, Help, it’s got me, the witch,” faking a struggle, to which Steve tuts, lodging a twig in his direction and adding a casual, “get over yourself, Munson.”  You dive down to take the camera from Eddie’s extended arms as he rolls to his side, and bite back a grin before giving Steve the signal that he’s on again.

Steve advises Eddie to roam around while he delivers the next part of the story. 

“This legend sits on the border of fiction and fact. It’s chilling, yes, but the stories and facts just don’t add up. A truth needs to be found and today, the legend of the witch will either remain its legendary hoax or a fatal truth may be… Wait, cut.”

“What, why?” You frown, enjoying Steve’s witch hunter mode, but clearly his self doubt has arrived.

“Was it a bit much? I felt like I was entering Eddie’s DND campaign.”

“Hey,” Eddie protests, opening his mouth and eyes wide at the camera and prompting you to snort a laugh at his theatrics. 

The day wages on, the forest becoming your only view for miles as Steve drags his feet, unsatisfied at his findings so far. The consistent checking of his watch is a hint alone that it’s time to set up camp soon.  

By nightfall, the strange noises from earlier were all but forgotten, and you sit with a full belly in front of the crackling fire opposite Eddie.  You film him as he tells one of his wild stories, complete with active hand gestures and cartoonish sounds.  Eddie gets a detail wrong in the tale he is retelling, and so Steve corrects him with a bit of a bored look on his face, as if he’s heard the story told wrong a million times.  You focus the zoom in on Steve’s face as he turns to rest his chin on his shoulder and regard his partner.  There was a deep fondness there in his eyes, even though it is masked for the moment with irritability.  

Eddie decides to get in close, his mouth inches from Steve’s. You watch as he murmurs something that makes Steve crack a smile, and then the two share a kiss, noses rubbing, and you feel like you were intruding on a private moment.  You then decided it was time to give the juice in the camera a rest for the night while you all slept.  Much like the camera you follow in its footsteps and shut off, exaggerating a yawn to catch the pair’s attention. 

Your little hint is not lost on Steve, and it prompts him to pass you a flashlight so you can avoid tripping over the tent's zip on your way to bed. 

Nestled undercover in your downy sleeping bag, you drift in and out of sleep, only faintly hearing the footsteps of the boys before they go into their tent. In the middle of the night, you swear you hear voices, like a distant conversation, but you assume it must be the boys. There’s an ominous but faint cackling that follows it, but by then, you’re already too deep to notice. 

And then suddenly, there’s nothing, just stillness and the dark of the woodland air. 

Day Two, No sight of the road. 

The next day brings more of the same.  Hopeful banter in the morning, which then easily leads into some playful teasing throughout the afternoon. The on and off tones of professionalism to mockery becomes apparent. At one point while filming, Steve in one of his monologues, tense and suspenseful, until the scene was hijacked by Eddie flying through the air to tackle him.  

The light mood progressively gets shadowed, though, as the day wears on and there seems to be little to no chance of getting back to the car before dark.  Steve halts to check the map several times, flustered and angry with himself, while Eddie has a smoke break and you film around, even catching sight of a doll made of sticks hanging from a tree.  

“Steve?” You hum his name over your shoulder, wanting him to see what you see.  

He ignores you at first, biting the side of his thumbnail, and spinning on his heel as he stares down at the compass. When he finally lifts his head, he frowns, confused, but then the doll made of sticks comes into focus and his eyes narrow behind the smudged lenses of his glasses.

“What the hell is that?” Eddie is already on his way over.  He decides to smoke the other joint in his pack instead of one of his Camels, and it is doing wonders for his anxiety.  

Eddie reaches up to touch the doll, but Steve stops him. “Wait!” He notices that his voice is a bit harsh, so he starts again in a calmer tone.  “Listen, we don’t know what it is or who put it there.  I think we should respect the woods and leave it be.”

“Respect the woods?” Eddie barks a laugh, continuing to touch the legs of the doll and turn it around to see how it was made and you watched through the camera lens. 

“I bet some kid made it when their family was out here camping,” Eddie mused, exhaling smoke. “It’s creepy, I like it.”

Steve decides to interfere with his high boyfriends fascination, batting his hand away and in the process accidentally knocking the wooden doll to the floor.

 “Hey, Steve you’ve killed him!” Eddie taunts; mouth agape, eyes accusatory.

Steve really didn’t want to do that and you sense the growing paranoia that he’s experiencing from the way he’s frozen, staring at the little figure now laying twisted on the floor. Eddie pouts and goes to retrieve it once again. 

“Eddie, leave it.” Steve can’t hide his increasing stress, his words strained in between his clenched teeth. He grabs onto Eddie’s pack using it to encourage Eddie to walk in the other direction.

Steve prays this is the right way. He sends you a weak smile, and you know him well enough to deduce that he is feeling embarrassed that he doesn’t have you out of the woods yet.  

 As the sunlight dwindles, a bitter sense of reality begins to creep up on you. The branches above lose their subtle shadows and the once benign tree clusters begin to morph into something otherworldly. 

When it is finally time to make camp again, it is all any of you could do not to think about the stories you’d recorded from the townspeople the other day.  In particular the one about the killer who would take kids down into his basement two at a time, and make one wait in the corner while he killed one, and then would kill the one in the corner.  He didn’t like their eyes on him, apparently, that’s why he made them stare at the wall.

The darkness is crowding in, giving tiny nudges to everyone's paranoia that you are not alone in that forest.  There was a presence that tickled in barely audible whispers as the night claimed its position and every howl of the wind was a possible threat.  

Not a lot of filming took place during the down time by the fire. It was as if the courage to speak the stories had vanished and the myths began to seep into their reality. Less words exchanged and a few uncertain glances shared with Steve, but Eddie remained stoic and chilled, maintaining his energy. 

The plan of action is the last conversation you share, Steve taking control and promising that you’ll all be back in town by tomorrow afternoon. 

The sound of the boys getting situated in their tent was comforting, and you giggled when Eddie farted and tried to blame it on a passing wildebeest.  But, things got quiet quickly—too quiet—and soon you could hear the faint hiss of Steve’s snore and you realized that having your own tent was not all it was cracked up to be.

An owl hooted, but along with its natural call there was something else out there making sounds.  Was that the humming Steve had mentioned the day before?  Straining to listen, the noise was followed by an unmistakable cackle that made you grab the flashlight and a pillow and scurry out of  your tent like it was on fire.  

“Um-guys,” you were pulling open the flap to their tent before either of them could answer. “Is there any possibility i could squeeze in your tent tonight, i was a-a bit cold on my own.” 

Eddie sits up, groggily, from where he had his head on Steve’s chest, as if he’d fallen asleep the second he closed his eyes, and scoots away to make room for you in the middle.

Feeling safer nestled between your two friends, you are finally able to let yourself drift off into a dreamless sleep that offers no reprieve from the shadows in your mind.

Later that night, scattered and confused, another bizarre noise caught your attention, jarring you awake. 

A blanket of dark coats the inside of the tent, but after a few fuzzy blinks you easily make out that  Steve is sitting up with the flap of the tent open. He’s crouched over, the faint shake of his hands holding the camera a dead giveaway to his unease.

Sensing that you are awake, he tilts his head to the side to acknowledge you, and then signals for you to listen. 

“Did you hear that?” You whisper, not wanting to wake Eddie who is offering soft snores next to you.  

Steve puts a finger to his lips, and then turns back around with the camera pointed out into the night.

Somehow he manages to convince himself that the noise is from a deer or squirrel. Due to your delirious state, this information settles your tired worry and allows you to snuggle down, eager for the morning light. 

Day Three, Walking in Circles

With no idea how long Steve remained awake last night, there’s a part of you that feels he’s hiding something to protect you. The next morning his raw, uplifting nature dwindled, his inner doubts coming to the surface to pinch the skin between his eyebrows. 

“I’m sorry I dragged you all out here,” Steve announces with a heavy sigh, staring down at the remnants from the fire. Eddie angles the camera up at him while you zip a few things into your knapsack. “We’ll be having lunch back in town in a few hours, but let’s keep adding to the footage as we go.”

Steve shows you on the map where you were all headed, tapping his finger in the spot where you’d parked the car.  “Two hours, tops,” he promises.  

Eddie gets to his feet and adjusts the focus so that Steve goes from blurry to clear to blurry again. “Battery life on this thing is low and I can’t find the portable charger.”

Steve turned on him, jaw muscles tensing, ready to let an angry word slip.

“The charger is right here,” you corrected, lifting it out of the bag it was in to show Steve and calm his nerves. Once Steve steps away to check the compass again, Eddie makes a face at you, tongue darting out from the side of his mouth, letting you know that he knew it was there, he just wanted to give Steve a hard time.  

“I have a question for you, sir,” Eddie rushes up behind Steve and taps his shoulder, making him turn away from the lens, bringing a hand up to block his face. “How do you feel about this Blair Witch hunt so far?”

Steve smooths the sides of his hair back and squares his shoulders, determined to look unbothered.  “I feel good,” he lied. “I feel like I know exactly where we are and we just need to head east for another couple miles.  Everything's going as planned, we’re just a little behind schedule, that’s all.”

You open the canteen around your neck and gulp down a few swigs of water, musing that there wasn’t much left, and you needed to find a fresh stream somewhere soon, just in case.

But, it was only a passing worry, because Steve’s confidence that you’d be back at the car in a few hours gave you an unhealthy helping of blind hope. 

When you finally find the water line, there is a fallen tree across the creek, and it happens to be the only way across.  You have the worst balance, and being suspended over moving water makes you nervous in a way that has your hands trembling.  Eddie carries the camera for you, strapping around his neck as he makes his way across like an acrobat, and then Steve follows behind you, whispering words of encouragement.  

Hours later, it’s high noon when Steve makes you all stop for a rest to take your packs off so that he can check the map again.  You happen to be filming him as a flex of panic flashes across his face.  

“Why does this spot feel so familiar?” He asks it under his breath, but the audio catches it.  

It was the same spot you’d started from earlier in the day; same stump, same bundle of dead branches next to a large boulder. Steve turns on his heel and you can see in his face the way his heart stops when he sees the impressions from the previous night’s tent pegs.

“How is this possible?” He whispers. “We’ve been going straight all day, following the compass.”

“Give me that,” Eddie storms by, yanking the map from Steve to sit down on the big stump to look at it while he has a smoke.  “This shit is Greek to me,” he admits, hollowing out his cheeks to take in all of the nicotine his lungs would allow. “Are you telling me we’ve been going in circles?”

You squat next to Eddie, filming him while he glowers at the lines on the paper, hair tied back in a messy ponytail.  This was the crankiest you’d ever seen him, and you’d known him for at least a year at that point. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that there were only 3 cigarettes left, and his pack a day habit was at risk of being tested without nicotine patches or comfort.  

He realizes you are recording and flinches away, blowing smoke out his nostrils.  “Put that thing away please.  I’m not in the mood.”

Steve split the last half of a squished peanut butter sandwich into 3 parts and passed one to each of you, but Eddie refuses his.  You stare up at Steve, waiting for his word that you should stop, but he shakes his head.  “She’s doing exactly what I told her to do, Eddie. We’re filming a documentary.”

“Oh, we’re filming a documentary about being lost now? Is that what this is? Because we are, we’re fucking lost.”

 Eddie grumbles, exhaling an agitated breath.

“We’re not.” Steve’s voice is gruff as he pushes the food into his cheek with his tongue.  “I know exactly where we are.  The car is right over that way, through the trees, I’m positive.”

“Yeah, well, you said that yesterday morning and last night and four fucking hours ago,” Eddie shot to his feet with a huff, keeping the butt of his smoke clenched between his lips to button up the front of his black and red flannel. 

“Shouldn’t you know where we are?” Eddie’s penetrating gaze falls on you, and for some reason, it makes you nervous.  “I know you said you were just a kid, but you grew up here right? So, you must have some idea?”

You glance nervously over at Steve, as if to ask for support, and then focus the camera back on Eddie as you stammer.  “I–I don’t ever remember coming out here. Once maybe, but—”

“Really Eddie?” Steve turns to his boyfriend. “You expect her to have a Magellan sense of direction in these woods because she lived nearby when she was a child? You get lost in Hawkins and you’ve lived there your whole life.”

Eddie mumbles something as he straps the last part of his pack on and starts walking, without a word, heading in the direction Steve suggested, kicking at the dirt as he goes.  

“I’m sorry about this,” Steve mutters to you as he offers his hand and helps you stand. “I should’ve had you home safe by now.”

“It’s okay, I trust you. I promise I really don’t know these woods that well,” your voice is small.  Your eyes are softly pleading when they find his, as if to beg for absolute reassurances.

But, Steve has nothing verbal to give.  His throat is dry, he hates fighting with Eddie, and his pride was taking quite a catastrophic blow—on film, no less. He squeezes your arm, and continues at a fast trot to catch up with his salty partner, pulling you along with him.  

A few hours later, the sky opened up and it started to rain, and as you ducked to follow the boys into the clearing to reluctantly set up camp, you trip over a pile of rocks and almost drop the camera.

“What the hell is this?” You mused aloud, adjusting the focus, establishing that it was, indeed, just a pile of rocks, but there was something…odd about them.  They’d been stacked up by hand in the shape of a mound. 

Steve and Eddie were up ahead, standing in close proximity, having a conversation in tense whispers while Eddie found the driest patch of ground under the canopy of trees to shake the tent out.  It was only drizzling now, and he was eager to set up some type of shelter in case the downpour started again.

Steve moves the hood of his yellow rain slicker back to check where you were, and then comes over to see what you’d found.  

“There’s a couple of them,” you point out, stepping back so he could view the others, “What was it that one woman in town said about stacks of rocks? Something to do with a signal, or warning maybe.” 

Turning, you see Steve frantically dig through his bag, only letting out a satisfied hum when he retrieves his notebook. Its spiral-bound pages hold all of the key points from interviews of people back in town. You can tell he’s proud of you for having the intuition to know that these stacks might be important.  

“Remember that woman we spoke to at the trailer park?” Steve asks, biting his lip in thought.

“The weird one? Mary?” You wonder aloud. 

Steve snaps his fingers in excitement, flicking to the right page in his notes. 

“Yes! Crazy Mary.  I wasn’t paying much attention to her because I thought she was insane, but I’m sure she mentioned something to do with rock piles?”

“What’s your notes say?” You lean in to see what the camera can catch on the paper.

“Not a lot. I’ve just written ‘Bible Story about rocks’”.

You try your hardest to remember, whispering to yourself and attempting to remember what the eccentric woman had said. 

“Correct me if I’m wrong,” you begin. “But, didn't she say something like, they symbolize a promise, like if you promise not to cross the rocks nothing can harm you and vice versa from the one who put them there. Ancient truce type agreement?”

“I mean it sounds right, but why are there three?”

“I'm not sure?”

Steve waves Eddie over, but he isn’t interested.  He’d gone into full-on “if I don’t keep busy I’m going to lose my shit” mode, dropping to his knees in the mud to hammer in the tent pegs.

Steve sighs, feeling like Eddie probably needs a bit of attention and comfort before his mood swing completely erupts. In his process of turning away from the rocks his booted foot catches a pebble, sending the pile toppling over, but he doesn’t think to give it any attention.

Panicking in his wake, you shield the camera from the rain and re-pile the pebbles back in a formation that you hope they resembled. 

You eat the last of the canned vienna sausages by the fire and no one is in the mood for jokes, but Steve does reassure everyone, especially with an arm around his boyfriend’s stiff shoulders, that you all would be out of the forest by the next afternoon.  You film it, catching the way Eddie pulls away at first but then leans in to rest his head on top of Steve’s and they both stare into the fire with glossy eyes.  

You didn’t even bother setting your tent up that evening, and you snuggle on the outside of the boys this time, curling up next to Steve while he spoons Eddie.  

For the first hour or two, everything is peaceful, and the three of you sink into shallow sleep, only to be jared awake by Steve stumbling out of his sleeping bag, stepping on both of his companions in the process.  

“Holy fuck, did you hear that?” He hisses, moving to unzip the tent.  “I need to get out there, hand me the camera.”

“Steve!” You bark a harsh whisper.

“Goddamn it,” Eddie starts putting his boots on, half asleep, not wanting Steve to go out alone. “It’s just a bunch of fucking deer or something, baby, will you just—”

But then, you all hear it.

As loud and as clear as if there were people standing right outside your tent: a cackle of laughter, heavy steps crunching in the leaves, snapping twigs, echoing from the forest floor.  And then there is the distinct cry of a little kid—maybe two, three different little kids. It all echoed back into the woods as if it’s in your ears and far away all at once. 

With the tent flap half open and one foot out, Steve shoots a look back at the two of you, nostrils flaring as he stills for more noise.  “Did you hear those kids?” He huffs, snatching the camera and ducking down to bolt out of the tent. 

“Baby, there are no kids in these woods!” Eddie lunges after him, catching Steve’s calf to pull him back in.  He stumbles back under cover into a crouch, only to “shush” everyone again, certain that he heard something else.

It’s then that the tent begins to shake and jostle, and the cackling continues, but it’s right on top of you now, circling the enclosure.

“Holy shit, holy fuck,” Eddie wails, pushing Steve out of the tent this time, and reaching back for your hand as he exits.

“Go go go!” You demand, encouraging them both to run as far and fast as they could from the campsite. 

Everyone is stumbling and cursing, running in the dark, with the light of the camera Steve’s holding being the only illumination.  He trips over something with a curse, and Eddie helps him up while you take the camera, not caring where the lens points as you run along with the boys, as fast as your feet can carry you.  

Not a sound follows you, not a single footstep or snicker.  Eventually, you all collapse breathless in a huddle, hunkering down near a tree.

Eddie looks into the camera you hold. “Turn that light off,” he’s panting, pupils pinned. “Shut it all off, stay the fuck down.”

“Keep the audio on,” Steve whispers, to which he gets a shove in the shoulder from Eddie.

“I can’t believe you’re still trying to film your movie, dude,” Eddie hushes curtly.

“Shutup!” You scold them both, turning the camera off.

You all sit frozen in place, holding onto each other in a football huddle for—god knows how long? Two hours maybe.  Daylight finally begins to break, prompting Steve to motion you to get the camera rolling again. 

Day Four, No Way Home

The three of you stay close, too frightened to be even a meter apart as you make your way back in the direction of camp. You’re cold, wet and done; so over this witch hunt and ready to put it behind you. 

After a while of weary steps and nervous glances around, Eddie’s tongue clicks, breaking the silence. “There are some hillbillies in these woods trying to fuck with us, and I don’t want to fuck with that.”

Steve looks up at him.  “But what if it’s something…not human?”

“Well, I don’t want to fuck with that either,” Eddie runs both hands through his hair, intertwining his fingers on top of his head as he walks.

You decide to chime in. “Something definitely does not want us here.”

“No kidding, Sherlock.” Eddie blows a raspberry and turns his back on the two of you.

“Something?” Steve cocks his head at you. “But I thought you didn’t believe in ghosts or witches?”

“I don’t,” you swallow hard, averting your eyes.  “But that doesn’t mean they don’t exist.”

“Okay, we’re going,” Steve answers, meeting Eddie’s hard stare over your shoulder with defiance.  “We got what we came for, let’s get our shit and keep heading north.”

“Are you sure north is the direction we need to go in?” You ask, cringing through the beginning stages of a headache.  “Because we were headed north all day yesterday and it didn’t get us anywhere.”

When the campsite finally comes into view again, everyone stops short, each jaw going slack in disbelief.

“uhhh, what the fuck is this?” Eddie mumbles, stomping over to look at the way the tent has been squashed, and how everyone’s things have been thrown around.  Whoever or whatever had been taunting you all a few hours ago had made a mess of all of your things; there was clothing and gear tossed in every direction.

You ran across the campsite, eyes searching. “Where is my pack?” The question caught in your throat, as if you might cry.  

“Your pack is right there,” Eddie points.  “More importantly, Where is my pack?”

Everyone starts collecting what they can find of their personal items while Eddie lifts up his open canteen from the ground.  “They dumped all the fucking water out.”

He realizes that the canteen is also coated in something and he drops it with a curse. “Is that fucking slime? It is, there is some kind of slime all over it,” he raises his hand up to look at the viscous liquid and then rubs it off on his pant leg as best as he could.

“Im not fucking about anymore Steve, okay I believe it all, you happy? This shit, whatever it is, whoever it is, doesn’t want us here.”

Eddie’s right, this is a clear warning, an intentional attack, and for once Steve’s not looking excited at the product of evidence before you all. Steve turns towards you, your kneeling figure scooping up your pack—it had been thrown to the other side of the campsite, but nothing seemed to be missing.

Before he could question it, the whining sound of Eddie pricks his ears. Swiftly turning to face whatever tantrum the curly haired boy is throwing now, Steve is faced with Eddie frantically picking up scattered pieces of clothing. 

“Woah, babe, is that all your clothes?” Steve asks in a rush, moving closer.

“Yep”. Eddie doesn’t even want to converse. 

“Just yours though Eddie? No one else's?”

“This is bullshit!” Eddie throws the canteen down and it bounces further away.

Steve moves to reach out and touch Eddie’s arm, but his hand gets slapped away.  “Leave me alone, dude. I need a second.”

You turn the camera off while everyone collects their things and tries to catch their breath.  You were all officially out of food now, with the exception of some peanuts, and a detour needed to be made to get water from the creek.  Eddie refused to use his after it was slimed, but thankfully Steve had an extra one.

When the camera comes back on, it is a couple hours later, and Steve is holding it this time to film Eddie enjoying his last smoke, while you sit with your head against a tree and your eyes closed.  No one is in the mood for talking, and it is wise to conserve energy with very few resources at your disposal.

“A hamburger and fries sounds nice,” you said to break the silence with your eyes still closed.

“Mmmhmm,” Eddie concurred. “A big can of Spaghetti-O’s would hit the spot right now.”

Steve points the camera at his hiking boots as he steps closer, indulging in the fantasy. “I’ve been craving one of those clam chowder bread bowls like we had on the wharf in San Francisco.” 

“That was some good shit,” Eddie mumbles, sucking his smoke all the way down to the filter. 

The camera turns off again, and when it comes back on, you have it.  Eddie is charging ahead, waving his arms, shouting something about how you all need to follow the creek and you’ll end up somewhere eventually.

“Hey,” Steve is walking in front of you, but he turns around.  “Can you pass me the map? I want to check something.”

“Yeah, hold on,” you say, but then you reach back and realize you can’t feel the well-worn edges, and sudden, prickling dread takes over. Panicked, you reach around to check the other pocket, coming to realize the map is gone. 

“Are you sure you gave it to me Steve?” you lighty question, knowing that right now is no time for jokes. 

Steve gives you an exasperated look, as if you are goofing with him like Eddie might.  “Yes, you have the map, you always have the map.  I gave it to you after a map-check before we made camp yesterday.”

You kneel on the ground and put the camera down to do a proper search, your heart racing.  “Eddie,” you shout, making him stop abruptly in his tracks.  “Do you have the map?”

“Me?” Eddie turns around but stays yelling from a distance.  “Why the hell would I have it? It was fucking useless anyway.”

“Okay, okay,” Steve pats the air with his hands, trying to calm the meltdown he can feel building. His attention returns to you as you stand without a map in your hand and a worried look on your face.  “I know I gave it to you,” Steve reiterates. “It has to be somewhere in your stuff.”

You don't want to say what you are thinking, as you stand, pointing the camera at Steve again, but it comes out anyway.  “What if whoever attacked the tent took it?”

Steve grimaces.  “What would they want with…our map?”

“To make sure we have no chance of finding our way out of here,” you say it under your breath, and through the lens, you watch Steve’s jaw go slack as he takes on that possibility.  

When realization dawns that you were about to lose light and need to make camp again, a thick blanket of anxiety and agitation falls over all of you.  You are dragging your feet, camera angle pointed at the ground while the boys get the tent out.

“I can’t believe we’re doing this again,” Eddie mumbles curtly, brow furrowing, and back teeth grinding as the nicotine withdrawal nips at him.  

You mention that you’ll go and gather some branches to make a fire, but Steve puts his hand out to stop you.  “Let’s not make a fire tonight.  We don’t need to draw any unnecessary attention to ourselves.”

“Good idea,” Eddie grunts. “I’d rather freeze to death in a few hours than spend one more day fumbling around this hellscape.” He is digging through his things in Steve’s pack to see if there happens to be a stray cigarette or joint anywhere.  The frustrated anger rising in him is palpable.

“It’ll be a while before I ever go camping again, that’s for sure,” you muse to the group, and both the boys respond with enthusiastic nods of agreement. 

“I’m gonna burn this tent when we get home,” Eddie bites out.

When you turn to Steve, he is rubbing his forehead and staring down at the ground, pensively, and you ask if you should stop filming for a bit.  

Steve glosses over your question and asks another: “You promise you don’t have the map? Because if you have it, and you were just saying you lost it to be funny, I won’t be mad.”

You lower the camera so that it’s focused on his chest and the army green utility jacket he’s wearing.  “I’ve checked my pack three times,” you offer, earnestly. “I promise, I don’t have it.  I wish I did, Steve.”

In the background, Eddie curses at the top of his lungs and one of the tent pegs he’d been fumbling with goes flying through the air. “I’m so fucking done with this! Holy shit, what the hell are we still doing out here? This is fucking insane.” 

Steve motions for you to keep filming.  He’d tease Eddie about all of this later, he knew he would.  He’d also use it as fodder for the argument of why he should quit smoking altogether.

Steve turns toward his boyfriend with his hands on his hips. “I know you blame me for all of this, and I’m sorry. What do you want me to say? We’re all tired and hungry and miserable.”

Eddie snaps around, eyes dark and his body rigid.  “You bet your fucking ass I blame you! You’re the reason we’re about to get flayed by a bunch of inbred mountain people or die of starvation out here in this shitty-ass excuse for a forest.”

“You begged me to let you come on this trip, Eddie,” Steve is doing his best to keep his voice low, because matching Eddie’s tone when he gets upset never helps the situation. “Like you said, if we follow the creek, we’re bound to end up somewhere. It’s impossible to get lost for too long in America these days.”

Eddie’s nostrils flare.  “I begged you? I practically agreed under false pretenses one night when you had my dick in your mouth, I didn’t beg for shit.  I wanted to spend time with my boyfriend and watch him work, but that was back when I thought you were talented.  Now I realize you’re just a hack who can’t even read a fucking map.”

He regrets it the second it leaves his lips, and you can see it in the way the corners of his mouth turn down. “I didn’t mean that,” Eddie whispers.

You step back from the two, not sure what type of conflict is about to ensue.

You can tell it hurts Steve by the way his eyes water, and he pushes his glasses up to rub his face.  “No, you’re right,” Steve sighs, “It is my fault.  But maybe if you weren’t such a big, needy baby all the fucking time, I might have been able to think clearly on this trip.”

“I’m the needy baby? Seriously?  So what, little miss perfect over there gets let off the hook because she’s your perfect little puppet?”

“Hey, no need to bring her into this.”

“Guys!” You shout, waiting until they both look at you.  “This isn’t helping, okay? I for one am scared shitless about what else might be out here in these woods, and if we don’t stick together, we don’t have a chance.”

There is a minute long silence while everyone tries  to shake the anxiety out of their shoulders. Steve comes over to let you know you can turn the camera off, but then the sound of Eddie’s laughter makes you both turn.  

He’s bent over, hands on his knees, laughing so hard he is sucking in dry air.

You and Steve share an amused look, 

“What’s so funny, baby?” Steve asks, cracking a bit of a smile.

Eddie stands, face red from exertion. “You and that fucking map. I got rid of it yesterday! What do you think about that?” Eddie then convulses into giggles again, walking off into the other direction.

“You did what?” Both you and Steve say in unison.

Surely, you’d both misheard him.

“Yeah,” Eddie continues. “I kicked that fucker into the creek, it was useless!”

“You son of a bitch,” Steve spat, lunging at him. “How could you do that to me? To us?”

You catch Steve’s arm, trying to hold the camera and him all at once. The last thing you need is for these two to get into a physical fight.

Eddie starts to walk further away, but then he stops to turn on his heel and face the two of you, deciding to fight his case a little more. “We just kept going in circles, it wasn’t helping us!”

“You knew I was going crazy looking for it! Why didn’t you say anything?” Steve yells after him. 

In the distance, you see Eddie shrug, before matter of factly stating, “I need to go for a walk.”

“But it will be dark in a half hour,” panic bubbling in your chest. “Eddie…wait!” 

Eddie waves his arm in the air and keeps going.  

“Let him go,” Steve touches your shoulder, “he gets like this sometimes. Let him walk it off, we’ll finish setting up.”

Steve has an overwhelming desire to run after his partner, to say, “hey, stop, I love you,” but none of that ever happened.  He knew when it was best to let Eddie cool off.

He knows Eddie won’t go far, he’ll be back in a few minutes.

When you turn the camera back on, an hour later, Eddie is still not back.

There is a soft, orange glow from the sunset through the trees, but other than that, it’s pitch black out. Locking arms with Steve, he dances the beam of his flashlight around the forest while you film with the camera light on, trying to remain within visual distance from camp.

Steve had already screamed Eddie’s name so many times, his voice was becoming hoarse.

 “If you’re fucking with us, Eddie, I swear to Christ I will never ever forgive you!” He starts to imagine Eddie is crouched down by a tree somewhere, covering his mouth to hold back the hilarity of watching his boyfriend almost shit his pants looking for him.

Steve tries to break free from your linked arms, attempting to charge deeper into the woods.

“Steve, no!” You squeak, desperation present in your tone. You shift the camera to the crook of your arm, so it angles up at his horrified face. You really don't want anything bad to happen to Eddie, but you also can’t let anything bad happen to Steve. 

Steve suddenly turns to face you, eyes wild.  “But what if he’s hurt somewhere, what if he’s…damn it Eddie!...what if…”

He doesn’t have to finish the sentence, you already know what he is thinking. What if the myths of the forest were true? What if there was an entity in the woods that fed on fear and needed a sacrifice every so often? What if there were hillbillies in pig masks carrying chainsaws and they often resorted to cannibalism? You’d watched too many horror movies in your life and so had Steve, and it wasn’t helping either one of you at that moment.

But, to be fair, it wasn’t all just in your head.  There is definitely something or someone else out there with all of you, and maybe it was just biding its time until all of you are broken.   

Eddie’s missing.  An hour later, it’s official.  

He wasn’t hiding or playing a game; he had somehow vanished into thin air. The guilt begins to creep and crawl, festering inside Steve’s chest, the buzzing of night insects heightening his sense of dread. 

You’d manage to coax Steve back to the tent. “We’ll go back and build a fire, so that he can see the light of it if he’s lost.”

“I’m not going to stop looking for him,” Steve mutters, screaming Eddie’s name again as he walks, his voice echoing off the emptiness as the cold air burns his lungs. He was too pumped full of fear and adrenaline to cry, but the tears were building behind his eyes. “It’s freezing out here and he’s only got that flannel on.”

“Listen to me,” you yank Steve around to look at you, being rougher than you ever have with him, but your eyes are kept soft.  “It would be very easy for us to get lost in these woods ourselves.  What if Eddie makes it back to camp and we’re gone?”

You let that sink in, hoping you can reason with him.  You notice that his shoulders relax.

“I bet he went a little too far and he can’t find his way back in the dark,” you continue.

  “He probably found some shelter to wait it out for the night.  He’ll be cold, but it’s not going to freeze, he’ll survive. We can go out and look for him at first light.”

Steve starts nodding to himself as he pans the flashlight beam over the forest again.  “A fire is a good idea, so he knows where we are.”

The active denial grips the both of becoming a makeshift coping mechanism, a way to hold onto hope when there seems to be none left.  You have a bad feeling that you may never see Eddie alive again, but you plan on keeping up pretenses for Steve for as long as you could.

 “We’ll find him, Steve,” you don’t want to lie to him, but you felt like it was something he needed to hear.

Steve struggles to meet your eyes, but you can make out a stray tear that’s making tracks across his stubbled cheek and it breaks your heart for him. 

“I didn’t go after him, didn’t even try to convince him to stay. How fucking stupid could I be?”

“No, Steve, you can’t blame yourself, okay, it was an in the moment thing, it’s going to be okay.”

“What part of this whole thing has EVER been okay?”

He turns his back on you and it sends a stinging pang through your chest.  A part of you can’t help but wonder if he’s wishing it were you that went missing. Maybe he’s wishing he never brought you along at all.

With a heavy heart and a signature rake through his hair, Steve shuts his eyes, takes a shaken breath and turns around, inviting you to step into his arms and you hook an arm around his waist. This embrace is welcomed, as you soak up the heavy warmth wrapped around you, making it hard to let go. Seemingly feeling the same, Steve leans in further, soaking up what he presumes is the last moments of peace, a crumb of tranquility. Feeding on the sliver of hope you’ve provided him.

A stuttered sigh slips from Steve’s dry lips.  His next words are nothing but a whisper, but it’s meaningful, and becomes tattooed amongst the trees.

“I can’t lose him,” his voice cracks.

Then, as if on cue, there’s a cry—a whimper of agony erupts from deep in the nothingness.

Steve snaps a look at you and a fist tightens over your heart.  You hold very still, making sure you heard what you thought you did, both wondering if you’d imagined it.

But then another scream follows, this one more drawn out than the first, and it sounds just like Eddie.

Steve braces himself, senses sharp, trying to find the direction the scream is coming from.  “Holy shit, that was him!”

There’s a scuffle as Steve bumps into you in his haste to move.  You almost drop the camera as he bounces off of you, losing his mind over the sound of Eddie's voice, you then scramble to catch the device before it falls to the ground. There’s only muffled noises for a bit as your arm is blocking the microphone and the lens catches the back of Steve’s legs, bolting into the pitch black forest.

“Whatever you do, don’t stop filming!” He shouts over his shoulder.

And then your heart is pounding, jackhammering in your chest as you take after him. Steve’s running, pumping his arms, and then there’s another scream and he catches himself for a full stop, freezing in place.  

The video takes in the side of his face, tears wetting his cheek under his glasses, his head turning in the direction of the scream.  “It’s this way…Eddie!...it’s coming from over there!” He points in that direction, and then his feet follow to a place where the trees get denser.

You glance over your shoulder in the direction of the campsite, wondering if the two of you will be able to find your way back, but then keeping up with Steve becomes a priority.  Breathlessly, you struggle to keep up the pace, you trip and try to avoid falling over tree stumps that are dotted along the path.

“Steve”, you manage to stutter in between sharp breaths, “How do we know, what if- what if it’s a trick. What if it’s not Eddie?” 

“Don’t be ridiculous, of course it's…”

Another scream. 

Steve’s words die on his tongue, as all he can manage is a wide eyed frantic glare into the trees, before attempting once again to scream his boyfriend’s name in vain, begging to catch a glimpse of his frizzed up hair between the branches. 

You both speed up, using all the remaining energy left inside your weak bodies, ignoring the burning in your lungs and metallic taste coating your tongues. 

The woodland flooring begins to create almost a disheveled looking path, a trail appearing out of nowhere. Horrifying possibilities begin to bleed into Steve’s imagination, the memories of the past few days twisting in his mind as he tries to predict what state his boyfriend could be in. 

Steve stops to get his bearings, gulping in breaths.  His stomach clenches like he might puke, but he swallows down bile, hoping for another scream to pierce the night and guide his way.

You catch a glint of something silver nestled in the leaves of the forest floor, and you shine the light down there to get a look.  You swear it’s Eddie’s wallet chain, the one he had on the last time you saw him, but then Steve starts moving again, on the trail of a sound only he could hear.

Running full boar, dodging through the trees, something smacks Steve in the face, and he swats it away, thinking it’s a branch.  But then he takes a step back and looks up. You almost smash straight into the back of him, not realizing he’d stopped so abruptly.  Your camera light brings attention to what Steve is seeing.

Unsettling deja vu is shared between you both as you realize that a cluster of handcrafted stick dolls, like the one you found the other day, are dangling before you. 

Steve’s hand trembles, reaching out to touch the frayed twine from which they hang. 

"Steve, stop," you hiss, your voice is a harsh whisper, eyes darting over the dolls as they sway in the breeze. You can't shake the feeling that you are being watched; that something sinister is lurking just beyond your peripheral vision.

Ignoring you, Steve begins to count the dolls, pointing with his finger, his movements manic, his words a rapid, breathless murmur.

"One, two, three... they're leading somewhere!”

"Steve!" you call out to him desperately, your voice echoing through the forest, falling on blind ears. He starts to follow the primitive stick dolls, and you know you have no choice but to go with him into the unknown, the dread of what lies ahead producing blooms of sweat on your scalp. 

Finally, you emerge into a small clearing. There stands an old, weathered cabin.

 It appears abandoned and worn, its wooden walls covered in moss and ivy, and its windows cracked and shattered. The cabin looms like a forgotten relic of the past, isolated in the dense forest.

“Steve, I-I don’t think this is a good idea”. The air is heavy, and your teeth are chattering.

“Whatever happens,” Steve clicks his tongue and swallows hard, wetting his dry mouth. “Promise me you won’t stop filming.”

“Steve, are you insane?”

He turns to you with wide, earnest eyes, his voice dead calm under the circumstances, “Promise me?” 

You feel like you’ve officially lost him, whatever you attempt to say to change his mind would be useless. “I-I promise.”

Another blood-curdling yelp of agony pierces through the air.

“Eddie, I’m coming!” Steve huffs, motioning for you with a swing of his arm.

You both scramble cautiously onto the cabin’s creaking porch. You decide to zoom the lens in on Steve’s hand, reaching for the rusted doorknob, trying your hardest to focus. 

Dread seizes you, and you attempt to get through to him. “Steve, please, I think I do remember a way out of these woods, actually. What if we go back to the tent, wait till morning and try again?”

You manage to worm your way in between Steve and the door, blocking him now. Steve remains unyielding, shrugging you out of his way, twisting the door knob, and then pushing in the unlocked door. 

“Steve—” Your voice cracks. You want to find Eddie too but there’s something…wrong with this cabin, and you can’t find the words to tell Steve in a way that would make him give up the search.

But then he’s already through the open door, and you stay on his heels. The light from your camera dances over his flashlight beam into the broken floorboards and chipped paint of the interior of the cabin.  

The screaming has stopped, but now the dead silence invades your senses.  There’s no furniture, and the walls are bare. There is a smell lingering that hints to wood rot and black mold and rodent feces. You scan the camera around to show there’s a wide, empty room, and a hallway to the right.

“I-I can’t lose him,” Steve whispers, and your eyes are wet, heart hurting for what this trip has become. You can't let him go in there alone, no matter how much your instincts are telling you to grab him and run in the other direction. 

With each step you take, the cabin seems to expand into a labyrinth of winding corridors, narrow staircases, and hidden rooms. The walls are lined with faded, peeling wallpaper, and the air grows colder and more oppressive with each passing moment. 

But then Steve darts down the dark hallway and up a stairway and you try to follow, tripping on the first step in your hurry.

“He’s in here, I know it,” Steve gasps, and you can only catch his boots before he is already on the next floor.

Eddie’s cry sounds again, and this time there is no mistake— it’s coming from inside the house. 

Two floors up, there are empty rooms, but still no sign of Eddie.  Steve makes a point to direct your attention to the same type of child handprints you’d seen earlier.  “Did you catch these?” He asks pointing to make sure you got the shot.  

It looks like a dozen tiny children had dipped their hands in black paint and made palm impressions all over the wall over the ripped and stained wallpaper.

And then another scream, muffled this time, breaks the silence of your twin haggard breaths, but it is coming from somewhere deep in the cabin now—somewhere below.  You can almost feel the screams vibrate inside the soles of your feet.

The shout is followed by a heavy bang that shakes the walls. It makes you both jump, locking eyes with mirrored expressions of fear.

Without a word, Steve disappears back down the stairs and into the shadows of the second floor. There are no sounds picked up by audio other than Steve calling for Eddie, and you follow, taking two reluctant steps at a time. The weight of uncertainty makes your feet feel like lead, while the lightheadedness of your hunger makes your skull feel like a balloon, and you have to catch yourself on the wall to find your balance, stars crossing in your vision.  

The only sounds now are the heavy thuds of footfalls on the old stairs, and the drumbeat of your heart in your ears. There appear to be looming shapes all around you as you run after Steve, and the camera catches glimpses of things that are unidentifiable sliding along the walls.  

You hear Steve shout, “down here!” and then he is throwing another door open and it sounds like he’s bolting further down in the house, down into what must be a basement.

You think you catch a glimpse of a figure standing in the corner, but when you stumble back and point the camera light there, you realize it’s nothing.

“Steve?” You can’t get a visual on where he is now, but then you finally catch the open door and the glow from his flashlight beam. 

“I don’t feel good about this, Steve! Don’t go down there!”

But it’s too late.

You reach the top of the stairs.  “Steve, wait!”

“He’s down here somewhere, I know it!” Steve persists.

You take another look at him through the lens; he’s dropping down to the dirt floor and darting to the left, disappearing into the inky blackness.  The sound of Eddie’s voice has not been heard for a while, but Steve continues to call out for him, the tremor in his voice now catching with a sob. 

 Abruptly, you see Steve halt. 

He shouts up over his shoulder to you, “Did you hear that?”

The air is suddenly ice cold; freezing even.  You shrink against the doorframe and pan the camera to capture the front door behind you, noting that it is closed, and then quickly back to Steve.

Something in the basement startles him, and Steve drops his flashlight to the ground, smashing the light's glass in the process, making him curse before rushing back up to you, banking on the illumination from the camera light to help him find his way. 

Sprinting up the rickety steps, Steve is relieved to find that you are still intact, dutifully holding his camera and waiting for him. 

Your presence serves as his motivation to attempt to sprint up the stairs a little faster. However, something stops him in his tracks a few steps up.

Your heart is in your throat as you wait, but Steve pauses to look over his shoulder.  “I feel like there is something else down here.”

Your teeth are chattering, your words come out stuttered. “Hurry, Steve.  Let’s go!”

“Not without Eddie,” he says with a vigorous shake of his head, taking one more searching look into the seemingly empty basement.

The chill you feel is much more than skin deep as you pan the camera around the main room again to find it empty, all but for the shadows that appear to be crowding in. 

You can hear Steve make his way up two more steps, but before you can shine the light back down on him, there’s a loud THUD from somewhere below. The noise manages to sliver into the walls, sending an unnatural quake throughout the entire house.

 “Holy shit, what the fuck was that?” Steve jumps.

 His feet are moving before his brain can fully register what is happening. 

Steve never looks back again. 

He takes the next few steps and trips over himself in his haste, his glasses falling in the process.  He doesn’t even bother to bend over to retrieve them, he hears the glass crunch under his boot but can’t bring himself to care as the high volume of fear unravels him.

Adrenaline ignites his flight mode, and he’s practically crawling up the stairs with his hands now, scampering to get away from whatever or whoever did not want him down in the basement.

You stayed where you were, watching—filming. 

The sound of footsteps pricked your ears from the empty room behind you, prompting you to turn around to pan the camera again, shakily, but you were met with nothing but the decaying cabin walls. 

Your mind chooses not to register that the front door to the cabin is wide open now, the forest having its own personal view into the cabin, the branches silently watching.   

Steve has climbed closer now, stilling halfway up, with his face drained of color, bracing his hand on the wall for balance.  He meets your eyes for some much-needed reassurance. The documentarian in him wants to look back, to see what might be glaring up at him from the bottom of the stairs, but his fear won’t let him.

Four steps, one hand holds the camera, your other one on the doorknob. 

Three steps, you begin to shift to the side, ready. He’s so close, he’s ready to leave, make it out, you can see the relief in his eyes to be free of that hole. 

You’re both quaking like brittle autumn leaves now, it feels like the blood in your veins might turn solid and crack, and the air from your lungs is coming out like smoke.  

You feel the need to pan the camera once more just in case, but Steve is so, so close, you decide to wait. 

Two steps and he is about to reach out for your hand. 

One step. 

You slam and seal the door shut, holding your weight against it, twisting it a certain way so that it locks. 

Steve’s breathless, you can hear it, he’s panting. 

However, he’s not standing beside you. 

The camera catches the ornate, brass doorknob as it twists and turns, capturing the sound of his heavy fist banging against the wood, and it’s vibrating into your palm as you press it there, feeding on your guilt. 

“Hey, open the door,” he tries the knob again, with more force this time. “What the fuck are you doing? I’m fucking locked in here!” He pounds his fist, desperation mounting.

“I’m begging you, open the door.” He tries to ram his shoulder through the frame, and it's a pointless move, but it does make the regret bloom fresh within your chest. 

"Let me out! Get me the fuck out of here! Don’t leave without me, please!” He sobs, his voice turning shrill.

You press your forehead against the door, angling the camera down so that it's filming the floor. The camera angle exposes a flicker of something, just a tiny glimpse of some type of black markings.

Steve stops his banging, he goes silent.

Summoning the last of your courage, you say once more, "Sorry, I'm—I..."

Another forceful kick lands on the wood, he’s had enough, the forceful boot punctuating Steve’s plea. "Open the goddamn door!"

You start to back up then, camera almost forgotten as it records the floor.  Through labored breaths, you are issuing your apologies so softly, but loud enough for the audio to capture.  

There’s another loud thud, and the camera vibrates from the impact.

It’s followed shortly by the sound of a sickening crack from beyond the basement door.  Steve’s cry is cut short by another blunt thud, and you wince away, squeezing your eyes shut.  

You flipped the light from the camera off, thinking you’d shut down the entire device. Out of the darkness, the audio picks up what sounds like a hundred hissing whispers, speaking of unintelligible things, muddled amongst feet shuffling all around you.  

In the background, the next set of ears to listen to the tape will be able to make out the hollow thuds of a body being dragged down the stairs.  

To you, in the present, the sound prompts you to turn away from the closed door, your cheeks wet with tears. Your heart is heavy, lips dry and cracked, but you know that there must be sacrifices.

It’s all in order to maintain the balance. 

You really did the best you could for Steve: you got it all on film, you kept your promise.

“I’m sorry,” you say, one last time, and you mean it.

 There’s a rustling, another thud, and then the camera spins around as if it were thrown.

And then, nothing but static.  

Epilogue 

The bodies of Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington, and their companion were never recovered from the forest near Burkittsville.  Most of the things from their campsite were recovered, along with a video camera and film that was handed over to authorities.  Contrary to what was found on the tape, there was no physical evidence of foul play anywhere on the property.  

Some experts speculate that you had something to do with their disappearances, others believe you met the same fate as your two companions.  When authorities went to question your friends and family, they found out that your life was a blank slate before you met Steve on the college campus, and your only living relative was a grandmother who lived in a nursing home not far from Burkittsville.

The police went to question her, but unfortunately, she was in the grips of late-stage Alzheimer's. There were two photos of you in your grandmother’s room: one was from when you were a toddler.  In the other, you were maybe 7 or 8 years old, surrounded by trees in a forest, holding up some sort of stick doll made of twigs. If one were to have a closer look, they would spot an odd, isolated cabin amongst the woodland background.   

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thank you for reading!

reblogs are deeply cherished, and so are your thoughtful words, but please, please try not to share any spoilers in the comments or the Blair Witch will get cha🧡

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[mimimunson]

couples costumes / steddie / headcanon

cw- mention of devil? implied kissing

Steve and Eddie do couples costumes for Halloween btw. Steve was the angel, and Robin made him white wings and even a little halo that kept flopping down onto his face for most of the evening. Eddie was more than happy to partake if it meant he could dress up as the devil. Stealing Nancy’s makeup bag to coat his face in what he later found out was red eyeshadow. Made little horns out of paper and stuck them to her hair grips before slotting them between his curls either side of his head, even stuck a fancy dress devil tail to his jeans for the evening. They swore they didn’t make out but Steve had a mysterious red stain over his lips and cheeks for half the evening. <3

[cherryc1nnam0n]

Cherry's Favorites Part 2

Contains NSFW, blood, dark themes and more, just my personal favorites, many characters and topics

Start me up | Mechanic!Eddie x Fem!Reader

Wet dreams | Eddie Munson x Cheerleader!Reader

Possessive Techno

Sugar daddy!Techno

Brahms with a Nymphomaniac

Crit Hit | Virgin!Eddie x Reader

A helping hand | Steddie x Reader

Show me | Older!Eddie x Reader

Eddie ‘The Munch’ Munson

Take it | Eddie Munson

Bunny

Eddie's balls

Someone else | Fwb!Steve Harrington

Look in the mirror

Scotty Doesn’t Know | Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Use me | Conrad x Reader

Somebody else | Eddie’s girl x reader and stepbro!eddie x reader

Steddie threesome

Daddy Steve

Fem!Reader x Older!Tattooartist!Eddie Munson

Joseph Quinn horny blurb

Moans for a song

Consent is sexy

Final essay | Jim Hopper

Broken bed

Horndog Eddie

What you want

Eddie's glasses

Cum | Steddie

Cum fly with me | Pilot!Loki

Nasty Kurt

Eddie's boobies

Possessive Eddie

Definitely Eddie

Eddie loves teasing

Above and below

Eddie making love to you

Penthouse Eddie

Squirting for Steve

Strong boi Eddie again

Sweet cheeks

Speak up

Steve watching you get off

Girl on the moon | Corroded Coffin x Reader

This dark!Eddie ask is everything

Crush me daddy Steve

Poor Eddie

Undeniable | Older!Eddie

Cockwarming Eddie

More dark!Eddie because I love it

You and abouncer!Eddie fucking in the walk-in during a closing shift

More dark!Eddie because this anon is the best at writing this

Mhm more dark!Eddie

You guessed it, more dark!Eddie

Yes this is more dark!Eddie

Roommate rules

Angel & Devil!Steddie AU masterlist

Eddie's dirty talk

Second Chances at First Times

The kissing monster

Teasing Eddie

A visit to the Healer | Loki

Eddie dry humping reader

Withdrawal | Eddie Munson

Touch me and you lose | Eddie Munson

Thighs | Eddie Munson x Reader

Eddie is a menace

Possible fic material

Fucking Eddie

Eddie slapping you

No more shying away | Brahms Heelshire

Joseph impregnates you

Two perverts in my room | Steddie

Eddie fell asleep while eating you out, again

Don't tease Spencer

Milk | Joseph Quinn

More milk

Rendezvous | Spencer Reid

Subby Reid

Riding virging Eddie

Just a taste

His favorite girl

Gamer Eddie

Red lipstick kisses | Eddie Munson

Mama

[rwprincess]

Teenage Dirtbag (Robin Buckley x Reader)

Masterlist

Word Count: 3.3K

Synopsis: Reader is hopelessly pining for Robin, even though she knows the girl is out of her league and hardly knows who she is…and that she’s already dating King Harrington…right?

 Honestly, this song originally struck me as being for EddiexReader. But I love PostModern Jukebox (ft Jax)’s take on it and was like “what if it was wlw for ROBIN?!” and here we are. Happy Pride, mfers.

CW: Self-doubt and loathing; reader being a useless-sapphic ™;  homophobia common of the 80s; unfair stereotypes to ‘freaks’; Minor Steddie if you squint; song lyrics mention a gun and ass-kicking; swears; jealousy of Steve (we’re pretty mean to him here)/mistaken identity; also, we’re tweaking canon because Eddie lives. Fight me.

She radiated beauty and light, and while you hadn’t had more than a minute-long conversation with her, you could tell that she was intelligent and that her soul was deep. Robin Buckley was the coolest girl you’d ever laid eyes on. Even in that dorky band uniform with the oversized hat and bobbing feather, chin-strap snugly tucked underneath her beautiful face. Luckily for you, she was out of uniform today and you drank in her long, thin frame, adorned with a striped t-shirt, and a skirt…but most importantly her legs were being caressed by knee-high tube socks. The stark yellow stripe drawing attention to her taut calf muscle as she walked down the hallway, carefree and angelic. Somehow, the buzzing fluorescence of the lights in this shitty hallway took on a heavenly light when they met her skin. You sighed in both admiration and frustration. There she was treading so perfectly and she hardly knew you existed.

Her name is Noelle

I have a dream about her

She rings my bell

I got gym class in half an hour

Oh, how she rocks

In Keds and tube socks

You leaned against your locker, biting your lip in silent longing. You weren’t in her league; you weren’t sure you were even in the same species. She was somewhere between a nerd and a prep, and you were a certifiable freak. Besides the homosexual tendencies you were harboring that would make you a pariah in this town if you were found out, you generally were clad in black and heavy makeup, looking like a walking The Cure album, a poster-child for loneliness and therapy,  surrounding yourself with other freaks, most notably your best friend, Eddie Munson. You were no stranger to being called a ‘demon’ or having wild accusations thrown your way. No wonder Robin’s gaze never turned to you. While you loved your friends and relished your lowkey lifestyle, particularly because it made you feel comfortable with who you really were, you still lamented that that meant you were invisible to the most beautiful, captivating eyes you had ever seen.

“C’mon, band geeks aren’t that far from D&D dorks,” Eddie tried to cheer you up, putting an optimistic spin on it, like he always did. You wondered how someone with so much pain and darkness in their life could be so light. He was always smiling and had a way about him that made everyone want to bare their souls to him. He put out beams of trustworthiness and others gravitated toward it. You yourself had been sucked into that unrelenting positivity. He was one of the limited few who really knew you, and one that you had confided in about your sexuality, and eventually your ridiculous crush on Robin.

“It’s very different, Eddie,” you admonished him. How could he not know how the rest of the school saw you? “They all think we’re devil worshipers and shit and she just like, plays the trumpet,” you shrugged. “It’s totally not the same. Even if they get made fun of, we are not on the same level.”

“Maybe they just don’t know how dumb and nerdy our club is. Maybe she doesn’t know and you should introduce her to the fine world of Dungeons and Dragons,” he smirked and you rolled your eyes at him, black lids almost sticking to your brows at the effort.

“Yeah, sure, whatever you say, Ed,” you replied in a dismissive tone. 

“Ya know, I heard she got a job at Scoops Ahoy…” his grin grew larger at his implication. 

You acted unfazed by this information, but soon you went there consistently and not-so-innocently to indulge your sweet tooth, but the only sweet you were really gorging yourself on was Robin. You teetered between feeling guilty for going to sneak looks at her in her adorable, short uniform…and wholly enjoying it. 

You never really struck up a conversation. You’d just place your order and sit in a booth, nursing the dairy dessert as slowly as possible to get your fill of Robin in a sailor hat, eyeliner thickly applied and pink lips parted in a rehearsed sales monologue or talking to herself. Good thing you had the ice cream to tamp down the burning you felt in your stomach and your cheeks whenever you looked up at her, averting your gaze if she so much as twitched in your direction.

But she doesn't know who I am

And she doesn't give a damn about me

'Cause I'm just a teenage dirtbag, baby

Yeah, I'm just a teenage dirtbag, baby

Listen to Iron Maiden maybe with me

And then one day, Steve fuckin’ Harrington had to ruin your reverent ritual. It startled you the first time he was behind the counter instead of Robin, as if you’d walked into the wrong store. It felt so…unnatural. Steve lived down the street from you and had been an entitled dickweed ever since you were young. You were always more of an introvert and liked reading or drawing on your driveway with chalk when you were little, whereas Steve was a stereotypical rough-and-tumble boy, throwing his football into your lawn to disrupt you, or climbing trees and yelling loudly. He always reeked of desperation for attention, while you opposed having the spotlight on you. High school had only widened the gap between you two, as he fell in with the popular crowd and ruled the school. On a good day, you were invisible to him and his cohorts. On a bad day, you were a target of their slurs and slander and Steve dove right in to join them. You’d hear him mutter about how unfortunate it was to live near you, like he’d catch your cooties…or you’d put a witchy hex on him.

Her boyfriend's a dick

And he brings a gun to school

And he'd simply kick

My ass if he knew the truth

He lives on my block

And he drives an IROC

You couldn’t walk into your house without being reminded of his existence, and your one respite of Scoops Ahoy was now tainted with his god awful Farrah Fawcet hair spray and cocky demeanor. Even worse, he now created a barrier between you and Robin. You were no longer guaranteed to talk to her. Especially when Steve tried to butt-in to take your order. 

It was obvious he liked her, too. He would be a fool not to, sure. You couldn’t imagine anyone not being drawn into Robin and her dark, reflective eyes or her goofy smile. But you caught Steve blatantly checking her out, and more than once. You knew you had no claim to her, and were probably hoping against all hope to be with her one day, but it still irked you. Particularly because he didn’t have eyes just for her. He seemed to hit on every girl who breezed through the ice cream parlor, even though he struck out time and time again, looking like the biggest dork in that uniform, showing everybody that he truly peaked in high school now that he had graduated and was not having a glamorous jet-setting summer like his ilk. He didn’t deserve Robin as it was, but especially when he couldn’t put her first. She was your only crush and had been for some time. 

“What can I do for you?” He had the nerve to ask and grin blankly at you, nothing going on behind his eyes. ‘You could back off of Robin and take your douchey self out of here--’ you began to think snidely, biting the inside of your cheek so as not to let the words slip out. Luckily, it created a clever disguise, looking as though you were just debating what you wanted. 

“Uh, I guess strawberry today.”

“Would you like some sprinkles? They’re on the house.” He winked and you tried to hide your gagging revulsion. Customer-service Steve was totally fake and he acted as if he didn’t have a distaste for you his entire life. ‘What could Robin ever see in someone like him?’ you thought. But truth-be-told, most girls your age tended to fawn over Steve and he could give her something you never could: a normal life.

But he doesn't know who I am

And he doesn't give a damn about me

The mall fire marked a sort of beginning-of-the-end in Hawkins. Starcourt was the one hip thing about the town, the one thing to do. And now that had all been scrapped. Rightfully so, as it seemed macabre to just go on with it as if nothing ever happened there. People died, the town had to even elect a new chief of police because he had perished as well. But it left you in a lurch regarding activities you could do, especially on your own…and particularly to have access to Robin. Now, you didn’t know where she worked and you certainly couldn’t ask her. It would give off stalker vibes in waves if you approached and said, “hey, I miss watching you at your work all the time, mind telling me where I can find you now?” 

Even worse, she seemed to be closer with Steve. The rumor mill didn’t explicitly say they were dating, but you assumed they were. It was a small town and you’d see them together frequently. Steve even dropped her off at school most mornings, which seemed to you like something couples would do. It completely dashed your hopes that this would be like a Hollywood fairy tale and you’d get the girl in the final act. Time was running out, as it was your last year at Hawkins High, and quite possibly the last stretch of time you’d ever see Robin Buckley. Then, the unthinkable happened when Eddie betrayed you and became cozy with Steve after Spring Break in your Senior year. "I can't believe you're actually hanging out with--no, that you're friends with that douchebag, now." It was a charming little development that Eddie had been spending time with Steve. 

“He’s not really that bad. I know, I know,” he responded immediately to your huff and look of disgusted disbelief, “A month ago I would have dropped dead before I would have said something like that, but it’s the truth, Y/N. He’s changed a lot since he was in school. He’s actually a pretty cool dude.” You may have been a little over-dramatic with your resulting retching, as Eddie asked, “What’s your deal with him, anyway?”

“What do you mean, ‘what’s my deal?’ Like you said, a month ago, you would have been calling him a douchebag right along with me! What’s your deal?” You didn’t give him time to respond and jumped right into your tirade instead, “First of all, in case you’ve forgotten, he hates us. Or at least, hates me still, since you’re all chummy now, apparently. He has made fun of me his whole life and uses it as fodder to yuck it up with his friends.

“‘Fodder,’ nice word choice,” Eddie smirked, eyes gleaming. He was clearly amused watching you get riled up over this, but you didn’t let that stop you.

“He’s so vapid and shallow. I’m pretty sure all of those hairspray fumes fried his few functioning brain cells. He pants after every girl he lays eyes on, like a dopey dog but without the loyalty. The most frustrating and asinine part of that aspect of him is that he does it with Robin! I’ve seen him drool over her and then turn around to immediately follow some other girl, but he--he still gets to drive her to school every day and talk to her and…I can’t,” you squeaked out the last two words, the realization crashing down on you: you hated Steve most because you were jealous.

'Cause I'm just a teenage dirtbag, baby

Yeah, I'm just a teenage dirtbag, baby

Listen to Iron Maiden maybe with me

Oh, yeah, dirtbag, no, she doesn't know what she's missin'

Oh, yeah, dirtbag, no, she doesn't know what she's missin'

"Oh, trust me, she and little Stevie are just friends." He waggled his eyebrows and you stared at him in confusion.

“Wh-what? How? They’re like, always together, and--and. Did he tell you this because you’re best buddies now, or what?” You were flustered and were sure you weren’t making any sense, but Eddie just smiled in a smug way. He was hiding a secret, but you didn’t dig further right now. You had no idea what he meant, how he knew, but this revelation was a breath of fresh air: your spirit renewed.

Spring and the school year were quickly coming to a close. While you wouldn’t consider yourself one for tradition, nor attending events with people, Eddie convinced you to partake some of the normal teenage activities. “You’re only going to be a senior once, Y/N,” he goaded you.

“This is your third senior year,” you reminded him with a deadpan expression and tone.

“I know. I said you’re only going to be a senior once. You.” He gave you a playful smile in return, “And hey, life is short and not always guaranteed.” The smile faltered a bit, and you could tell he was remembering Chrissy’s death, all of the deaths that occurred over Spring Break. You couldn’t really argue with Eddie when he was being serious for once in his life. He blinked the memory away and put on a cheerful facade again, “Hopefully, this will be my last senior year, too, so we have to make it a momentous occasion. You should go to prom with me.”

“Oh Eddie, I thought you’d never ask,” you put your hand over your heart sarcastically as you replied to him in a monotone voice, “how romantic.”

“Oh God, stop. That’s embarrassing for the both of us,” he joked. “What I mean is, we should both go to prom. Make the memory, all that jazz. I think you’ll be…pleasantly surprised.” You were used to his theatrical pauses by now, but it sounded like he was up to something. Eddie wouldn’t be Eddie without hatching a plan or scheme, but you agreed anyway.

“This is the most conformist thing I have ever done,” you greeted Eddie at your door, “I hate it.”

“It’s just a dress, Y/N. It isn’t the end of the world,” he cleared his throat to hide his laugh, but you caught it anyway and shoved him out of your doorway.

“This was all your idea, Munson. I will never let you forget that.”

At first, it wasn’t all that bad. Some of the music wasn’t totally abhorrent and Eddie was making your group laugh, dancing and miming his way through various activities. But the fun was cut short when Eddie’s other group of friends came in. You felt betrayed as Eddie brought Steve back to the gym that he once owned. Amongst this new group was of course, Robin. Your cheeks flared and your heart raced at the sight of her. She was always beautiful, but tonight she had a touch of glamor, wearing a knee-length green dress. However, that happiness was also fleeting. Eddie took off with their group and had them laughing and dancing, and you even saw him twirl Robin around. You sat and sulked in the bleachers, meaning you missed Eddie pointing you out to her.

Man, I feel like mold

It's prom night and I am lonely

Your elbows were propped against your knees and your hands cradled your face as you stared down at the floor. This could have been a great night, a fun night. But you just weren’t cut out for that typical teenage fun. Perhaps it wouldn’t sting so much if you had chosen to stay home rather than put yourself out there; if you weren’t dragged here only to be ditched by Eddie. But him choosing Steve and his group only solidified the feeling that burned deep within you: you didn’t fit in. Anywhere.

You glanced up, hoping that maybe Eddie had noticed your absence from the dance floor and would take pity on you. However, you saw Robin walking unsteadily in your direction instead. It wasn’t a too-much-spiked-punch walk. It was more hesitant, methodical. The changing lights cascaded across her hair and skin, making her seem even more unreal. As she drew nearer, you gained more of an appreciation for her dressed-up look. The makeup highlighted her cheekbones and lips; the way the dress hugged her waist and the length of it emphasized her legs. You smiled softly when you noticed that she was still wearing sneakers, though. That was much more like the Robin you knew. 

“Is this seat taken?” She was standing directly in front of you, but you weren’t completely sure she was talking to you. You looked to your left, then to your right, confirming that you were alone. You nodded, automatically, but were still in disbelief. You’d hardly exchanged words that weren’t related to ice cream before.

Lo and behold

She's walking over to me

This must be fake

My lip starts to shake

How does she know who I am?

And why does she give a damn about me

“Eddie’s told me all about you. Well, everything I didn’t already know,” she said, effortlessly flashing you that radiant smile. You were glad to be sitting down already as your knees began to quake.

“Is that right?” You asked nervously, throat suddenly becoming dry. Your eyes flicked across the room towards Eddie. You discovered him watching you intently and when you made eye contact, he gave you an enthusiastic thumbs-up. 

“Mm-hmm. He said you were the coolest girl he’s ever met. But I already guessed that. I mean, I thought that. I mean---well, and he said you’re his best friend.” She quickly tacked on the change in subject, but your heart hammered in your chest. Robin thinks you’re cool? Wait, Robin knows who you are and thinks about you? Your mind was racing.

“He, he is. I mean, I am. His best friend. And he’s mine. He’s a good guy.” 

“Oh yeah, he’s totally great!” She rushed out, flustered. “He uh…he said that you were maybe, like…like me, too?” She looked at you with meaningful implication. Oh, shit. Did she just--is she saying she’s gay, too? It was a hopeful thought, but you were sure you were misreading it, and it’s not like you could just ask her for clarification. Not on this topic. 

When you didn’t give a definitive answer (truthfully, you probably looked more deer-in-the-headlights confused instead), Robin continued, “Anyway, uh, I’d like to get to know you better and Eddie said you liked Iron Maiden?” You nodded numbly in response to this and she reached into her small purse, “Well, I’ve got two tickets, would you maybe like to go? With me?”

“I--yeah, of course! I’d love to go with you, Robin!” You blurted out, not wanting the opportunity to pass you by. Like Eddie said, life is short and you only get this one go-around. “I’d like to get to know you better, too. I think maybe we are a lot alike,” you replied, giving her a similar knowing look before you both broke out in smiles, grinning like lunatics.

I've got two tickets to Iron Maiden, baby

Come with me Friday, don't say "maybe"

I'm just a teenage dirtbag, baby, like you

[griefabyss69]

For the Drabble request- rockstar eddie based loosely on the song city of angels by Demi Lovato ;))

There was no way this was going to fit in under 1K!!! Based on the song and on the whole ass universe we've cooked up <3

[Drabble request series on ao3]

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2.8K words - Steddie - Rated: E

Contains: Exhibitionism, humiliation (he's into it), public sex, sex on stage, audience participation (verbal)

I'd say this requires a general suspension of disbelief LMAO, just have fun!

Eddie fucking loves to perform, whether it was back during his humble beginnings at shitty dive bars or on a big stage with Lights, Cameras, and recently, plenty of Action.

He didn't think he'd ever be performing like this in particular, but the life he's lived has never ever gone the way he used to imagine it, each year bringing something newer and wilder and usually a hell of a lot scarier than he planned.

So when he and Steve finally get their shit together, when Steve starts to get more and more daring as he uses his puppy dog eyes and his beautiful mouth to sweet talk him into doing crazy shit like wear a plug onstage, or to get him rock hard through his tight pants before kissing his cheek and shoving him out on stage, he just rolls with it.

It's fine, he can deal with the embarrassment of some people knowing, putting two and two together – tabloids and paparazzi photos turning into interviews where he and Steve get to tell the truth and control their narrative a little – that when Eddie starts off the night already red faced and sweaty and oh, hard enough to cut glass, it's Steve's fault.

The reception they've been getting has been warm enough that Steve gets bolder with every show this tour, and finally one day all of their previous discussions of him coming out to say hi to the audience come to fruition – Steve not only kisses him in front of the cheering crowd, but grabs his ass too, fingers pressing against the seam of his jeans to see if he can push on the plug inside of him.

Eddie has to pull the mic away from their faces so he can moan into Steve's mouth without thousands of people hearing it.

After that, the audience reception is, well, hot.

Steve loves to take the mic, rile them up, get them chanting for him to touch Eddie or tell them an edited but super dirty story about what they've been up to, and despite how legitimately embarrassing this all can get, it has Eddie more horny and in love than ever.

One night during the LA leg of their tour, Steve's not actually around that much as Eddie and the guys prepare for their set. He sees him whisper in the guy's ears and sees everyone exchange nods before he runs off again, making a phone call or talking to security or to the cameramen.

He can't lie, it has him on edge, considering every other time Steve's been up to something it's always been an escalation of their little game.

And you know what, call him paranoid, but he was right! He usually loves being right, but when Steve cups a hand to his ear to signal the audience during the band's intermission, Grant tooling around on his guitar to give the crowd something to listen besides Steve asking "What was that?" into the mic, he gets a feeling that this is going to be one of those nights that changes his life forever.

The audience yells a lot of things. Steve hadn't actually prompted them with a chant yet, but he just laughs into the microphone, slotting his eyes over to Eddie who's still panting from the screaming backup vocals of their last song, the beaming smirk on his face filling him with dread and the kind of lust that would have the devil on his knees -

He says, his eye contact sharper than his teeth -

"You want me to fuck him?"

The audience explodes into a wall of sound and Eddie feels just a little dizzy, his ribs crushing his lungs even as his ass clenches around the plug Steve asked him to put in earlier.

"Hmm…" He says, drawing it out in a tease. "I mean, I did ask the staff if I could, do you know what they said?"

The incoherent answer from the audience is drowned out by the pounding of Eddie's heart in his ears, as he's stuck there, frozen, hands getting clammy against his guitar.

"That's right, they said as long as you all behave – you know, follow the rules, tip your bartenders handsomely, and take lots of pictures – then I'm allowed to!"

Eddie knows he should start breathing or running or begging or something, but the part of him that loves to stew in his own humiliation has his feet bolted down to the floor, desperate to find out if this will be anything like the fantasies he'd seduced Steve with back in the day.

"You motherfucker," he croaks out, the sound lost before it even gets past his lips.

Steve laughs, throwing his head back in something like pure joy before he stalks over to him, raising his eyebrows, the twitch of them so familiar that Eddie can tell that he's serious about the whole thing, realizes that this is why he was whispering to his band mates earlier.

After that, things happen fast.

Steve drags Eddie to the center of the stage, a few feet away from the edge, stage lights bright and focused on them as he takes Eddie's guitar and hands it to one of the guys. Eddie knows he's got a stupid look on his face right now, not able to play off this off as the usual slutty shit he does for the performance, wondering if it's worse that he's in front of all of these people, or in front of cameras that are going to capture this on fucking tape.

His dick is throbbing.

Fingers move his hair out of the way so Steve can whisper in his ear, his teeth grazing the shell just to pull a shiver out of him, and he can barely hear him telling him that if he wants to stop he just has to say the magic words.

Eddie reaches back and grabs Steve's thigh, squeezing it once. He understands, and despite how the feels exactly like a cold-sweat nightmare, he's into it. Of course he's fucking into it.

It's like he blinks and his pants are down to his thighs, his dick springing up to slap his stomach and he can feel the cheering from the audience, buzzing through his skin. He has to swallow a moan already, finally finding enough air to make noise, unable to ignore the fact that he's exposed even as Steve's easing the plug out of his ass. He goes to cover himself with his hands but Steve's there already, pulling his arms behind his back to tie his wrists together.

It was never really like this, when he imagined it.

Maybe he'd thought Steve would just tug the back of his pants down and slide in, let him grind into his own hand or maybe even his guitar, but that was fucking stupid, he knows Steve doesn't do things halfway. Hell, he's surprised he didn't strip him off completely, the thought making him shudder and tilt his head back against Steve's shoulder.

Steve grabs the mic stand beside them to tip it in close, voice rough and deep and Eddie can tell that this is also one of his wildest fantasies.

"Should I turn him around for you?"

Eddie lifts his head to gape at him, shaking his head. Steve winks at the audience and presses a kiss to Eddie's cheek, smacking his ass lightly.

The audience starts chanting "Show us!" and Steve loves to give them what they want, and so Eddie finds himself facing the back of the stage while Steve gets an elbow over his spine and makes him bend, fingers digging into his ass cheeks as he spreads him open for everyone.

He could cum just from this, he thinks, face burning. Sweat drips off of the end of his nose and he watches it hit the floor. Despite the heat of the lights, the air in the venue is cool against his ass, making it hard to focus on anything else.

Steve's fingers tease at him and sink in, making sure he's all nice and lubed up and stretched out for him. The moan that it pushes out of him is loud enough the microphone picks it up, just audible over all of the cheering.

His dick is leaking on the floor by now, joining the sweat drops, and Steve's pulling him back upright and turning him back around before he can really feel sorry about the mess they're making.

"Alright, I hope you enjoyed that," Steve's saying. "The guys are gonna play a nice song for us, right Jeff?"

Eddie hears Jeff laugh into his mic and he squeezes his eyes shut, wondering how much of this they all planned behind his back.

"Of course we are! Though, gotta say," Jeff says, and Eddie can hear his smirk. "We've never done music for gay porn before. Eddie, you good to sing on backup for this?"

What?

Eddie looks up at him, about to shake his head but Steve plants the mic stand in front of him and he wants to melt like ice cream down into the floor.

"Of course he is," Steve murmurs into the microphone over Eddie's shoulder. "You all should hear it, he moans in key."

There's a hand on his hip, Steve's dick at his ass, his teeth on his neck, and then -

Steve bites as he sinks into him, already pulling a rough sound out of his chest as the band starts to play a song that Eddie usually has a sick solo in, and he misses his guitar for a moment before he kind of forgets about it. Steve's hand is firm around the base of his dick and he doesn't bother easing him into things, just starts thrusting hard and fast like Eddie's the instrument, matching the explosive intro of the song.

Any plan he had to control what comes out of his mouth has flown off like a paper airplane on the wind at this point, Steve's mouth and his hands and his dick taking him apart so seamlessly that he wonders if his moans are drowning out the lead vocals or not. Surely the sound guy is in on all of this, will figure out how to mix them so it doesn't sound bad.

"Stop thinking," Steve murmurs in his ear before biting it.

Yeah, thinking. He's thinking.

"Open your eyes, look how many people are watching," he says, and Eddie wishes he had something to bite on just to help the tension that's got him feeling like he's going to burst right out of his skin.

He does what he's told though, cracking his eyes open against the bright lights to try to look past them, seeing the glint of the professional cameras and a vague sea of people, including a pit full of people dedicated to moshing even though Eddie's getting fucked like ten feet away from them.

"Alright Eddie, use your manners," Steve's saying into the mic, voice breathy as he keeps thrusting, lighting him up hotter and hotter each time his hips slap into him.

Eddie bites his lip, shaking his head. He's almost there, but until then he's not about to beg in front of everyone. This is humiliating enough, something he's going to be thinking about like a brand directly in the back of his mind for maybe forever.

"No, you don't want to? Everyone's being so well behaved and you want to be rude to them?"

"No, fuck," Eddie moans, squeezing his eyes shut. A little more.

"Then be nice, babe," Steve says, huffing a laugh against the side of his face.

He kisses his cheek again as he tightens the hand on Eddie's dick.

"Fuck, sorry," Eddie gasps, tugging at whatever's tying his wrists together. "Please, Steve."

"Please what? And I'm not who you have to beg…"

Eddie can feel his grin against his skin, teeth pressing into him.

"Please, let me," he swallows, tries to catch his breath, skin flashing hotter than ever. "Let me cum."

Steve groans, pounding into him faster. The drag of his dick inside of him has lightning curling up his spine, his lower back starting to feel more like a pool of endorphins rather than an amalgamation of tissue and bone.

"Should we let him cum?" He asks into the microphone, and the wall shaking noise from the audience seems like a yes to Eddie. He laughs. "I don't know, I'm just not sure? What do you think Eddie?"

"Fuck," he gasps, arms shaking where he's fighting to get them loose. "Please, c'mon, I'm going to-"

He cuts himself off but the audience gets the idea, starts up another chant.

"Let him cum!" Is going to ring in Eddie's ears for eternity.

He thinks that's a clear enough answer as he tries to grind into Steve's hand.

Must be to Steve too, because he loosens his grip enough to start stroking him, fist getting soaked as soon as it reaches the tip, the wet slide of it enough to send him over the edge before he can even make a sound.

Hot cum splatters over his chest as his spine arches back against Steve, feeling his fingers press hard into his hip and then more hot cum is shooting into him, pulling a reedy sound out of his throat as he pants for air. It's so good that he forgets about the humiliation for a moment, nothing but him and Steve and the band and thousands of people all frozen in the half minute it takes Steve to make him shatter apart against him.

Between the stars in his eyes and the lights and the way he's struggling to keep his eyes open, he has to give up on finding which way gravity goes so he can stand up and start dealing with… everything they just did. He buries his face in Steve's neck as best as he can and finds a good spot to bite him, hard, before backing off a little.

Steve gasps, still sounding rough and slutty, his dick twitching in Eddie's ass before he starts gently pulling out.

"Yeah, you loved that, didn't you?" He asks, and Eddie isn't sure if that's for him or the audience.

He just mumbles a "yes" into his shoulder while Steve works the plug back into him, trapping his cum in there. It feels good, despite the pounding he just took, despite how Steve gets him to brace himself on his shoulder while he pulls his pants back up, despite the beaming of the stage lights and how everyone's learned what he looks like when he cums.

Steve doesn't tuck his dick back in, just lets it hang out of his open fly, and Eddie bites his lip against a whimper, looking for the knots on his wrists. He's still not fully soft, the cool air and the cameras pointed at him keeping him worked up enough that he's still twitching.

"Be patient, babe. It's not like you're showing them anything new," Steve says, laughing as he brings his fingers to Eddie's mouth.

He sighs, shooting him a glare before opening up, letting Steve play with his tongue before he cleans them off.

Steve gives him a few minutes, gets a bottle of water from somewhere – one of the guys probably – and presses it to his bottom lip, letting him drink until he's finished with it and then dumps it over him, cooling him down.

He can't help but laugh, even as the cold water feels like a shock through his shirt and on his poor dick, making him finally start to get soft.

"Alright Eddie, what do we say to the rest of the band?" Steve asks, bringing the mic to his mouth.

Jesus Christ. Is he not satisfied yet?

"Um, thanks guys. Sorry my boyfriend is power hungry. Hope my uh, singing? Was good," he says, trying to sound like he doesn't want to shrivel up in embarrassment.

Steve laughs, hugging him from behind.

"And what do we say to the audience?"

Eddie tries to glare back at him, and then glares at the audience.

"You're welcome," he says, and Steve smacks his ass.

"That's what they should be saying," he says, holding the mic in front of Eddie's mouth until he gives in.

"Fine," he sighs, unable to keep the smile from creeping onto his face. "Thanks for putting up with all of this. Hope you liked it?"

The audience roars and Steve unties him, finally satisfied. He uses clumsy fingers to put himself back together, his dick safely back in his pants as he heads on shaky legs over to where his Sweetheart rests in it's stand, picking her up and slinging her strap over his shoulder.

"Alright, see you at the next show!" Steve yells before putting the mic stand back where it belongs, waving to the crowd as they cheer him off stage, blowing a kiss to everyone in the band as they start in on the second half of their set.

Yeah, Eddie doesn't think he could've imagined his life going in this direction.

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

angel and evil steddie au where, for whatever reason, reader has put them on a sex ban/something of the sort, but one of them end up convincing her about ‘just the tip’. I think this could be both of them, but they slowly inch further and further in, swearing it’s just the top, but then u feel their balls fully pressed to u, and their only excuse is that ‘doesn’t it just feel so good/right though??’

A/N: i kinda went a bit crazy with this one, couldn’t just write a little blurb… the “just the tip” thing is just so nomnomnom yummy and i need it like i need oxygen. 

word count: 2022

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

masterlist | join my taglist | devil & angel AU masterlist 

“Come on Y/n,” with yielding hands, Eddie carefully sat down next to you, “look, I know I fucked up, I am well aware of that,” he emphasized, “but it’s not fair for Steve,” he motioned to the creature sulking in the corner, staring out the cracked bedroom window, “he doesn’t deserve to undergo the same punishment, my punishment, I should take the full of it, not him,” he gesticulated, “fuck, I mean, just look at him. I think if you don’t do something now, relieve him even a little bit, he will just snap and trust me, you don’t wanna see that,” even from here you could see his ivory knuckles as the angel dug his fingernails into his palms hard enough to draw blood, “please, at least just kiss him a little bit.”

“Fine,” you huffed, snapping the angel out of his daze. Pointing a threatening finger towards him as he turned in your direction, “but you’re still not getting any, you got that?” you warned.

His stoic frown instantly melting away, he breathed out a soft smile, “got it,” slowly moving towards you as felt the devil crawl away. 

“I will just give you one kiss, alright?” your finger was still raised as he sat down beside you, his presents causing your arm to retract as he moved in closer. 

“Yep,” like coming up for air, his hands slid up to each side of your face, “one kiss,” and the next thing you knew, the angel dove in, and desperately pressed his lips against your own. 

Like a man starved, Steve didn’t let his touch falter for even a second, not even parting to catch his breath as his fevered kiss quickly grew out of control. His hands soon wandered all over your form, making you dizzy and causing you not to notice fully when he desperately tilted your body down, pressing you into the mattress with his own weight, just barely hovering above you as he attacked you with his ravenous lips. 

“O-okay,” you uttered weakly, his touch succeeding as usual in being extremely persuasive, “I think that counts as way more than one kiss,” your breath ragged as you turned your head for your kiss to be out of his reach.

Your legs naturally rested on either side of him, curled up and hugging his hips as he brashly melted further into you, letting you feel the previously only suspected tent in his pants press against your hot panties, your short dress haven ridden up completely. Ignoring your comment completely, he simply moved on to your neck as he began to grind down against you, needily scratching his itch and making your breath grow more wild. 

“Just a little bit more, please,” he croaked, smearing his plea all over where your pulse hammered on the side of your neck, “just give me a little bit more, sweetheart,” his fingers digging into your soft thigh for support as he rocked against the growing wet spot on your exposed underwear.

“Steve,” you tried to fight how your eyes fluttered closed, still determined to keep the disappointment alive, that you had taken out on the both of them, though your arms still reluctantly slid up around his neck and fervently grabbed onto his broad shoulders. 

Roaming a hand up to squeeze your tit, your nipples standing proud and visible through your thin dress, he purred, “come on, honey,” catching one of the pebbles between his fingers and tugging on it teasingly, causing your thighs to clench around his form, “I know you need this as much as I do.”

“Steve…” the rest of your words fell short as he raised himself up, hovering above you with his forearms strong on either side of your head, letting you stare into his breathtaking eyes. 

Looking down at you as if you were turning into his favourite meal, he continued, “and maybe this could be a way to up his punishment…” with a finger on your jaw, he tilted your head over for you to gaze at the devil, silently watching from the corner of the room, “just let him sit there and watch you get off, while he knows he can’t have you. Wouldn’t that make it much worse for him? Don’t you want him to learn his lesson? Don’t you want him to suffer?”

“I-… fuck, fine,” you gave up in a huff, him haven driven your mind so fuzzy that you couldn’t comprehend saying anything else, “but you are not fucking me,” you said firmly, “not with your tentacles, not with your cock, not even with your finger. You stay out of my pussy, okay?”

Victory seeping across his face in the form of a sly grin, he chuckled, “okay,” agreeing hazily as he dipped back down to catch your lips. 

Sneaking a hand down between your close bodies, you felt him tug your sodden panties to the side and rapidly after that heard him impatiently freeing his hard cock, a low sigh leaving his lungs as he felt the intimate contact of his throbbing length rest directly against your weeping folds, leaning his torso far enough back for him to get a good view. 

“Oh my god, what did I just say?” you groaned as he, with a grip firm at the base, swiped his leaking tip through your petals, pursing your pretty pussy lips apart for him.

“Don’t worry, honey,” he laughed, holding the soaked cotton to the side, hooked in his thumb, as he rubbed his length all over your cunt, relishing in your juices, “I’m not gonna put it in you. I just wanna feel you, please. It’s been so long.”

“Alright,” you rolled your eyes, “it’s been like a few days, a week max.”

“I don’t care, that’s still too long,” you sucked in a sharp breath as he suddenly tapped his heavy cock against your buzzing clit, making your whole body jolt in need. 

“Yeah, I bet if it was up to you, I would just stay like this,” you joked, “never go to school or work again, just let you two play with me for the rest of my days.”

“Is that a proposition?” he smirked, cocking his eyebrows and pinching your plump folds on either side of his girth, letting him fuck it and glide the bulbous head over your swollen clit. 

“Urgh,” you sighed, lifting your hands up and hiding your flushed face from him, “just shut up and cum so I can go back to studying.”

“Oh, yeah, you want me to be quiet all of a sudden?” you peeked down through your fingers and glanced at the sloppy mess he was making of you, “I thought you liked listening to me, listening to what you do to me…” he fucked his fist, angling his thrusts so he slid through your slick folds every time, ending each movement with a persistent nudge at your clit, “don’t lie, I know how much it pushes you over the edge.”

Maybe it was your abundant wetness causing his thrusts to go sloppy or perhaps it was just him being greedy and angling further down, accidentally catching your weeping hole on his way through your folds. 

“Oh my god,” you whimpered, just the sensation of him rubbing himself over your entrance made your legs quiver, “don’t do that,” you warned as it barely breached one too many times for it to have been accidental. 

“Oh, come on,” he flicked against your opening, purposefully getting caught every time, “what if it’s just the tip, huh? Would that be alright? I just wanna feel you squeeze me, even if it’s just the tip.”

Biting down on your lip, his teasing becoming simply too much, you let out a whimper and nodded your head meekly at him. 

The thing was, Steve was huge. There wasn’t any other way to put it. He was a powerful creature from beyond this realm and his assents made that painfully obvious. The tip of him didn’t just feel like the tip. The fat head was so big and staggering that it had your whole body just quit on you, the severe stretch being too much for it not to give out. It was always like that. It was so overwhelming that even just a whisper of him felt like he was rearranging your guts. If you didn’t look down, you never truly knew how much of him he had given you till you felt his pelvis rut against your clit and his tip bully your cervix. 

Pressing his lips against your own, he muffled your pathetic whimpers as he slowly fucked you with the tip of him, rudely yanking it out just to slap the heavy length against your puffy petals, filling the bedroom with the sloppy music of your need. 

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he groaned as you melted into the mattress, losing yourself completely to the moment, “missed your little holes so much.” 

“Don’t push in any more, promise me you won’t,” you panted, wiggling under his weight.

“I won’t, don’t worry.” he hazily shook his head, capturing your lips once more. 

“Promise me,” you turned your cheek to demand.

“I promise, I promise,” his empty answer rushed out as he continued to prod your needy little hole. 

Keeping his lips pressed against yours, lapping up your whimpering moans, he crushed you with his body in a way that made the rest of the world just fall away from under you, making your whole universe be just him, the agonising feeling of him bullying your opening, and his warm eyes staring back into your own as you melted into a puddle beneath him. 

“Fuck,” you suddenly exclaimed as all the air in your lungs was forced out, “you asshole!” the all too familiar overwhelming sensation of him reaching the end of what you had to offer, making you doubt if you were on the verge of cumming or about to punch him, “I knew you were gonna do that!”

Grinding his pelvis against your own, burying himself so deep that it hurt, he taunted, “if you were really so smart, then why did you let me?” relishing in the feeling of your cunt clambering down around him.

Trying not to give him the satisfaction, you muttered, “god, I hate you,” though your conviction was lost completely as his sudden and powerful thrust made you moan out in enchanted ecstasy. 

“Aw, I love you too, honey,” he chuckled, kissing your fuzzy features as he found his greedy rhythm, “doesn’t this feel so much better, though?”

“I can feel you in my fucking throat,” you gasped, a statement true of every time he had filled you up. 

Adoring eyes soaking in your every reaction, he growled in response, “exactly.” 

His hands then swiftly grabbed yours as they began to claw at his back, hauling them up above your head and locking them in his tight grip. 

“This pretty little pussy just needed to be stuffed,” he cooed against your lips, “it’s what she deserves,” his balls, dripping with your juices, slapped against your heat with every needy slam, “deserves to be treated like this,” he empathized with his hips, “deserves to be used,” he shifted his grip on your wrists, gliding up to weave his fingers with yours, “to be loved,” his nose rhythmically bumped against yours as he pushed you over the edge, “to be worshipped,” he fervently captured your lips, silencing the guttural cry that escaped as you trembled violently beneath him, soaking the bedsheets and gushing all over his cock.

Letting your eyes flutter shut, his gruff moans washed over you as your clenching cunt milked him of all of his worth. 

“Fuck,” he panted, forehead resting against your own as he insatiably continued to roll into you, sloppily fucking his cum even deeper and forcing it to spill out as your pussy clambered around him, “I love you so much…”

“You are so terrible,” you said light-heartedly as a dazed smile bloomed upon your blissed-out face, your brows swiftly knitting together at his excessive and relentless desire.

© 2023 thyme-in-a-bubble

[infinite-orangepeel]

Dirty Paws Fic

@littleashleylynn drew 🦅 steve & eddie in all their glory and i’m seriously never getting over it 💌 she’s absolutely phenomenal and has created some of my favorite steddie pieces. she also does commissions and has a patreon with even more beautiful content to love and support !! go give her forehead kisses and hugs !!!!

This boy is lethal.

‘Because, I’m sick like you,’ he swallows softly like the dulcet angel he is, but Eddie’s learning–finally starting to understand–there are layers, ‘Like Chrissy.’

‘You’re nothing like me.’

Unconvincingly, Eddie attempts to be the antichrist, the nemesis, the frontman of the devil’s hegemony. Bares his teeth, rattles the cage, tries to instill a fear wretched enough that Steve will run and hide and decide this isn’t at all what he thought it was.

But, Eddie Munson has always been a penumbra of his own creation.

A lunar eclipse—the edge of the Earth’s shadow; light and dark at the same time.

For what Steve lacks in worldly experience, he makes up for in persuasion.

‘That’s not true.’

Steve can’t use his hands, but he has teeth.

Pearly white like the gates to Heaven and when he bites down on the hinge of Eddie’s jaw; Eddie knows he’s wild too.

Wild like the three of them used to be.

Dancing, frolicking, sharing loot, protecting, mending wounds.

Licking sweat and blood and tears and nightmares.

Seeking shade beside the bramble bushes and flicking thorns at those who dared try to tear them apart. Sticky fingers looped together to forge unrealized promises.

‘Do you believe me, now?’

Steve illustrates a bloody line across Eddie’s cheek to the corner of his lip with the tip of his pinky. Face tucked into his shoulder.

It’s a mean bite. Ivory pinpricks subduing doubt the moment they break skin. The kind a mother wolf enacts on her worst enemies. Meant to kill and mark and defend territory. Protect the pack at all costs.

[fandom]

Ships

Week Ending January 23rd, 2023

Huntlow +16 Hunter & Willow Park, The Owl House

Steddie -1 Steve Harrington & Eddie Munson, Stranger Things

Byler -1 Will Byers & Mike Wheeler, Stranger Things

Wenclair -1 Wednesday Addams & Enid Sinclair, Wednesday

Chenford -1 Lucy Chen & Tim Bradford, The Rookie

Destiel +5 Dean Winchester & Castiel, Supernatural

Lumity Luz Noceda & Amity Blight, The Owl House

Wolfstar Remus Lupin & Sirius Black, the Harry Potter universe

Kavetham Kaveh & Alhaitham, Genshin Impact

Ghostsoap -3 Simon “Ghost” Riley & John “Soap” MacTavish, the Call of Duty franchise

Jegulus +1 James Potter & Regulus Black, the Harry Potter universe

Bakudeku +3 Bakugou Katsuki & Midoriya Izuku, Boku no Hero Academia

Avatrice -4 Ava Silva & Beatrice, Warrior Nun

AsaDen Asa Mitaka & Denji, Chainsaw Man

Hannigram +5 Hannibal Lecter & Will Graham, Hannibal

Raeda Raine Whispers & Eda Clawthorne, The Owl House

AkiAngel +1 Aki Hayakawa & the Angel Devil, Chainsaw Man

Dreamling +1 Dream of the Endless & Hob Gadling, The Sandman

Merthur Merlin & Arthur Pendragon, Merlin

Bowuigi -10 Bowser & Luigi, the Super Mario Bros. franchise

The number in italics indicates how many spots a ship moved up or down from the previous week. Bolded ships weren’t on the list last week.

[trensu]

WAIT, WHAT ABOUT A STEDDIE GOOD OMENS AU? Eddie is hell's most terrible demon. As in, he completely fails at being sufficiently evil all the time. He is, at most, a nuisance. Then we have heaven's best angel, Steve, who was charged with being a guardian and love humanity, and threw himself headfirst into it to the point that when Heaven decided it was time to end the world he was like, 'uh that's where all the humans live? So, hard pass on Armageddon, thanks!' I don't think they have an Arrangement like Aziraphale and Crowley do, though, and probably they actively avoid each other until the whole antichrist situation pops up.

Then we can have them agree to attempting to raise Dustin to prevent Armageddon because they think he's the antichrist except, surprise! It's actually El who's devil-spawn, and she grew up to be kind and loving despite the misery that was her life. And actually, Eddie and Steve decide this worked out well because if Dustin had had antichrist powers, he probably would've taken over the world in a heartbeat because Eddie and Steve both kinda suck at their jobs.

Nancy and Jonathan are obviously Anathema and Pulsifer. I think we'll have Robin be an angel sent down to Earth and "apprenticed" to Steve as punishment because she annoyed Gabriel one too many times. Chrissy is there too as Eddie's liaison to hell. She likes him and definitely encourages his shenanigans while reporting to hell that Eddie is doing fantastic evil on Earth so they both can keep their jobs.

Eddie cheerleads Chrissy into going after Robin because 1) he wants his bestie to be happily together with her crush and 2) she'd definitely get a promotion in hell for seducing an angel. Meanwhile Steve actually gets very protective of Robin and is mega suspicious of Chrissy's intentions. He makes sure they're never alone together and will go so far as to physically put himself between them if he thinks Chrissy is getting to close to Robin.

Eddie decides to be the best wingman which obviously means it is his duty to distract Steve so Chrissy can shoot her shot. What better way to distract him than by flirting outrageously? Sure he's teased Steve consistently throughout the millennia but it was mostly just to get Steve all huffy and irritated rather than to, like, seduce him. Steve gets incredibly flustered annoyed under Eddie's new type of attention and is very thoroughly distracted by it.

(ofc it turns out that even though Steve is an angel who should be above such things as carnal sin, he's actually VERY experienced in the sack. Eddie, by contrast, might be the most virginal demon to have ever existed and really has no idea what to do when Steve starts giving Eddie as good as he gets; they're essentially playing gay chicken except for how they're both ethereal/occult beings without any human sex or gender, but they do have wings so the chicken bit still applies)

Then other stuff happens and they all fall in love and live happily on Earth with the occasional confrontation with Heaven and/or Hell whenever one of their sides tries to start some apocalypse or other again!

[corujalesbica]

Masterlist for my fanfiction on tumblr

Tododeku

Secrets to keep and mouths to kiss - one shot

Star shaped freckles and the constellations of you

Dabihawks

One last kiss, I love you like an alcoholic

Angel with a shotgun

I fell in love with the devil, and now I'm in trouble

Momojirou

You're a rock and roll girl, love, you listen to Rebel Girl

Shinkami

Why, why, why am I me - one shot for the nb shinsou hc

What if I fell for death

Wenclair

Why would you wear black to a wedding - chapter 1

Why would you wear black to a wedding - chapter 2

The strawberry scent of you- one shot

Sword battles and kisses - one shot ( I actually hate this one)

Ronance

Love that falls from the sky

Steddie

After the nightmare - a one shot made as a birthday present for @tragedy-at-its-peak

Rock and Roll bugs - one shot (Spiderman au + t4t steddie )

I'll keep updating this as I write fanfiction, which is not at all a copying mechanism so I don't have to deal with reality :)

[redpooch]

little angel over my shoulder: music in stranger things is important and must be period appropriate

little devil on the other side: cooler than me by mike posner is peak steddie

[aphrogeneias]

we'll be doing a sexy steddie x reader halloween special to wrap up kinktober tonight <3 featuring devil and angel costumes, a blackout and forced proximity