#demon!Eddie

[fairyysoup]

the devil i know

chapter one: god you've got the blackest eyes

(repost)

fic tag | fic playlist | fic masterlist

pairing(s): crossroads demon!eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: To summon a demon at a crossroads, simply cast a circle, make an offering, and recite an incantation. What happens from that point on is subject to your desire… and the demon’s.

cw: explicit, smut, dubcon elements, making a deal with a demon, inspired by american and european folklore, sacrilegious themes, horror, witch!reader, reader is 21+ in modern day, eddie is immortal, coercion (a bit), sex pact, marking, possessive behavior, animal death, trauma, reader is ostracized by her very religious hometown, dark comedy, tfw your accidental boyfriend is a demon who is obsessed with you bc he doesn’t know how to be normal about anything ever, dead dove: do not eat

please check masterlist and individual parts for content warnings before reading. this fic contains dark themes. your media consumption is your own responsibility.

a/n: Hi folks, for the month of October this year I'm going to be reuploading all the chapters of this fic onto tumblr, this time hopefully for good. I apologize for the time that it's been taken down. Genuinely, this fic has garnered so much kindness and support and I think of it as one of my biggest accomplishments. I hope you all enjoy it just as much the second time around as the first.

ALL OF MY WORKS ARE 18+ MINORS DNI

Through me you pass into the city of woe, Through me you pass into eternal pain, Through me you pass among forsaken people. Justice moved my exalted creator; I was wrought by divine power, Supreme wisdom, and primal love. Before me all things created were eternal, And eternal I endure. Abandon all hope, ye who enter here. -Dante Alighieri, The Inferno, Canto III

The book you’ve used for ages now, since late in your junior year of high school, has only one page in it that you haven’t utilized. You don’t know how much faith to put in it– you’re a little short on faith, these days– but, the spellbook lays it out simply, so you follow its directions to the letter. 

To summon a demon at a crossroads, go to a place where two paths meet on the dark moon. You find peace and quiet in the woods, deep where you know no one walks at night but two paths cross in a small clearing banked with trees. It’s your favorite place to go when you want to do a spell– ritual– and you don’t want to be bothered. The whole thing can’t be more than twenty feet across. Above the overhang of trees, there’s no moon in the sky, only stars.

Cast a circle of protection. That took more research than just the book in your hands, but years of collecting information have given you learned knowledge– there are a million ways to cast a circle, and different circles for different purposes. You do your best to create one for protection. You draw a literal circle in the dirt with a stick, fill it with salt, and walk around the circle three times clockwise to cast it. You light candles to give yourself some light, and to free up your hands of the flashlight you carried to see your way through the woods. 

Make an offering of copper. Your hand pauses on the copper dog tag in your hand. You’d thought of just offering a penny, but you remembered reading somewhere that pennies barely contain copper anymore, and you didn’t have anything else that was entirely made of the one metal. 

You run your finger over the embossed name on it. Lacey. Your pet’s old collar feels heavy in your hand as you remove the tag from the leather strap and bury it in the earth, you guess, to reach the… Underworld? Hell? You can’t honestly say, considering the text you’re referencing only calls it the Otherworld.

It’s a big sacrifice. It’s personal. But, you guess, that gives it more meaning. Making a deal is personal business, and you have your reasons.

Recite the summoning incantation. A stanza of words you don’t understand. You don’t think it’s in Latin, but you try your best, all the same. You read them from the book before you, and feel your blood rushing in your veins as you do.

State your desire out loud in a clear voice. Well, that’s a little more difficult. What is it that you want?

You take a breath, go to speak, and then stop. You don’t know how to start. You don’t know exactly how to describe your pain. You don’t know how to voice your anger well enough, you just know you need to… you need to get it out, somehow. This is a very crucial step in the ritual, you have to do it.

“I came here to make a deal,” you speak frankly, clearly. “I’m prepared to do anything. I’ve run out of options. I’ve been hurt too many times, by too many people who didn’t care what they did to me. I’ve lost everything I genuinely loved. I’m… I’m angry, and desperate, and I’m frightened. And I feel so alone. It’s eating me alive, and I just… I just want the ability to make things go my way, for once.” Good enough, you hope.

Wait for an answer.

You do. You listen intently, to the song of the leaves in the trees rustling in the slight breeze, to the crickets chirping in the grass. You wait long enough that you start to rethink your approach. 

It could be that things will turn around if you just wait another month, or another month after that. Maybe you’ll get the car back. Maybe you’ll get the promotion that was given to the newbie that you trained. Maybe your ex will stop coming around your work to intimidate you. Maybe you’ll get a new dog to take the place of the one that he killed. Maybe the evangelical town you live in will stop shunning you and calling you a witch, like something out of the middle ages.

Unlikely, that last one.

Just when you swear it’s a failure, that you should just pack up and leave, that’s when a strong gust of wind rips through the clearing out of nowhere. The candles blow out– and then, oddly enough, relight themselves. There’s a slight scent of smoke on the breeze, and you look around to make sure none of the candles fell over in the wind.

They’re all perfectly fine. There’s nothing amiss, it seems, until you hear a cough and movement across the clearing. You look forward, and see a pair of black combat boots in the stream of light from your flashlight. You follow the boots up to a pair of legs, clad in dark jeans, and then further up, to a torso, and a head, and a pair of sparkling eyes.

“Hi.”

You stare at him, probably looking like a fish out of water with the way your mouth opens and closes. You’d fully expected the traditional scary depiction of a demon– maybe horns, goat hooves, et cetera. But the man that answered your call is… just a man. A pretty one. He has long, curly hair, which falls over his broad shoulders and stirs in the wind. His plush lips curve up in a relaxed, cocky smile, as he takes in the sight of you in return. 

He quirks an eyebrow at you. “Are you just gonna stare at me all night?” 

“Sorry, hi. Hello.” You shake your head. “Can you believe I honestly thought I’ve been doing it wrong this whole time?” 

“I can believe a lot of things. You know, there’s a reason why the demon summoning ritual is first in that book.” His voice is soft and resonant. You get a mental image of heat waves radiating from tar-black and glowing magma, rolling slowly over lava beds. The image disappears just as soon as it flashes into your mind.

“Well, to be completely honest, I wasn’t sure how I felt about making a deal with a demon first thing,” you explain, looking away shyly. “But I’ve tried all the spells in this book and not a single one of them worked. Just seems like everything is getting worse all the time.”

He doesn’t look away– rather, he keeps staring at you, unblinkingly. Like you’re the most fascinating creature he’s ever seen. He leans up against the tree that he appeared beside, his leather jacket falling open to reveal a shirt with a demon’s head on it. Fitting. He takes a pack of cigarettes out of his jacket pocket. 

“So, now you wanna make a deal with little ol’ me, huh?” He grins, a gorgeous smile that flashes bright, sharp teeth at you. He lifts a cigarette to his mouth and bites it gently between his teeth. He doesn’t pull out a lighter. Instead, you watch him light up with a small flame that erupts from the tip of his thumb. 

“Depends on who you are,” you retort, eyes following the movement of his hands. They’re weighed down by large, silver rings that reflect the light of the flame before it snuffs out. “What’s your name?”

He makes a short noise in his throat, shaking his head abruptly. He doesn’t look nearly as intimidating as you feel he should– more like he’s trying to warn you against something you don’t want. He peers at you from beneath his wavy bangs as he pulls the cigarette from his mouth and uses it to point at you. “Names are really powerful things where I come from, babydoll. Best not to bite off more than you can chew yet. Once we cut a deal– that’s when you get my name.”

You make a face as you mull that over. “So what do I call you, in the meantime? Demon daddy?” 

“You could,” he chuckles. The demon rocks to the side, crossing his legs at the ankles. “If you really wanted to. I wouldn’t mind, it’s flattering.” 

You grunt. “I think I’ll pass on that, actually.” He tilts his head with a sicker, watching you with an amused smile while you shift in place. “So, do I– I mean, you need to know what I want, right? Is that how this starts?”

“No, I know what you want.” He exhales a stream of smoke from his nostrils. “You want power. To get a fair shake, find your place, change your life. Defend yourself against the assholes making that life, well. A living hell.” As he spits out the words, his voice rings sharp through the trees, like the strike of a hammer on glowing metal, shooting sparks off into the air. 

“I want to take all this pain and just… return to sender. Give it back to them, y’know? I never wanted any of it,” you justify. Your voice is too small in comparison with his. “Maybe then I’ll be able to fucking breathe.”

For how little space you allow yourself to take up, he seems to consume the rest of it. He nods slowly. “That’s a fair request, sweetheart.”

“It’s selfish, I know.”

“Making a deal for power is inherently a selfish thing,” he shrugs. “Own it. I’m certainly not judging.”

You let out a shaky breath. You’re still so nervous, being so near him– ten feet away and growing closer every second, it seems, even though neither of you have moved. You feel like, no matter how far you pull back, the flow of fiery lava he seems to embody will keep creeping towards you until you’re burned alive.

His dark eyes glow like coals in the night as he looks you up and down, and then he quickly pushes himself away from the tree. You startle at the abrupt movement, and watch as he swings around it like Gene Kelly on a lamp post. 

When he rounds the tree, he uses the momentum to throw himself toward your circle. You flinch, and he frowns, but continues moving toward you at a slower pace, holding his hands out innocently. “Wanna know a secret? About how all this,” he twirls a finger in the air, indicating the ritual you’re in the middle of, “works?”

You nod, gazing up at him shyly. If you felt at all powerful while casting the circle and starting the ritual, he’s managed to take the wind out of your sails. You can feel the power radiating off of him in waves.

He smirks at you. “You make your petition– when you say the words in that little book,” he points at the volume at your feet, “and that petition is answered by whichever demon caters most to that desire.” He points at himself emphatically, his eyebrows raised. “Me? Infernal majesty of freaks and misfits. I’m your demon daddy.”

You finally giggle, and it makes him smile fondly, like that’s what he’d been gunning for all along. He backs up a step and puffs his cigarette. 

“I’m here to help you, sweetheart.” He regards you for a second, like he’s thinking things over. “That is, as long as you agree to my terms.”

“Terms?” You echo, but you were sort of expecting that. Nothing for nothing, right? “What are the terms?”

“Ah, they’re simple. Very traditional,” he waves his hand like it’s frivolous. He holds his hand out in midair, and just like how he’d conjured the flames, he produces a weathered book. It looks like a composition book that has scribbles and doodles all over the front of it– the same demon head that adorns his shirt. “You sign your name with your blood in my little black book, you hop on one foot with your hand on your head and pledge your undying fealty to the dark lord Kthulu, and then you meet me on the sabbath to kill a child and make them into soup.” 

He smiles, fluttering his eyelashes at you innocently. 

“Are you fucking serious?” You blurt. 

“Of course I’m not fucking serious– what is this, the dark ages?” He snorts as he lowers the composition book. “Nah, we don’t do human sacrifice on the sabbath anymore, it was getting too difficult to evade the witch hunters.”

“What?”

“Nothing.” He flashes you a disarming grin. You can feel yourself halfway smirking as well, incredulous but somehow enjoying his humor. Then he shakes his head and says, seriously, “No, you do have to sign my book, though. And then meet me back here on the full moon to fuck.”

You blink at him, reeling from the whiplash of that. “You… I’m sorry?”

“I find it best not to sugarcoat it, y’know.” He shrugs, “Think of this as a marriage, of sorts. I give you the power to smite thine enemies, live deliciously, blah blah blah, and then you meet me at the crossroads every full moon to be my whore and we fuck like bunnies all night. Simple as that.”

“That’s far from simple.”

“It doesn’t have to be monogamous, if that’s what you’re worried about,” he continues frankly, “except on the full moon. I won’t compromise about that– you’ll be all mine, and I’m all yours. No takesies backsies.”

“No– that’s not–” You exhale, holding your hands over your eyes. “I’m just… not promiscuous like that…”

“Sweetheart.” He waits until you’ve lowered your hands to look at him, and he hums, with a saccharine smile that reminds you of the power you’d felt sweep through the clearing when he arrived. “You won’t be the first good girl I’ve broken, and you won’t be the last. If you’re worried about promiscuity, well… I answered your petition. I know what goes on in that pretty head, and it barely scratches the surface of what I’ve seen and done.” 

The toe of his boot barely nudges the edge of your circle, and a spark crackles in the dark from the impact. The light dances in his eyes longer than it remains in the air, like they caught the spark and ignited. 

“Trust me,” he says, drawing you in with the low register of his voice. “I can give you more than power. I can give you protection. I can give you real happiness. Karma’s a fucking bitch, so I can be, too. This is just such a little thing in return. And who knows… you may even like it.”

You shiver at that, even though his presence feels hot, like his stream of lava is surrounding you, crowding you in, boiling you where you stand. He’s right– you absolutely might like it. 

Because there’s just something magnetic between you, isn’t there? You can sense it, more than any heat and any sort of primal fear you might have instinctively at his presence. There’s a certain pull you feel toward him, emanating even through the salt barrier on the ground. 

You want to wrap yourself in him. Boil you alive, burn you to a crisp, destroy you– you don’t care.

“Or… is it that you don’t like this body?” He wonders aloud, striding backward two steps. He turns, his hand lifting his seemingly ever-burning cigarette to his lips. “Figures– y’know, I can be anything you want me to be, babydoll.”

Confused, you watch as he transforms in front of you. In the length of two steps while he paces across the clearing, his face and body stretches and contorts, until you’re not staring at the same visage anymore. He stops, and he turns to you with his palms up, like he’s waiting for your approval. 

You’re looking at Tom fucking Cruise. 

“Oh, no, absolutely not,” you shake your head vehemently, scowling. You wave your hands demandingly, “Put it back. You were so hot before– please, please go back to the way you were.”

The demon grins and turns his head, throwing the cigarette away. His hair grows back to its previous length, his face morphing as if made of clay until you meet the same pretty smile you’ve come to enjoy looking at. 

He chuckles, grabbing a lock of his hair and drawing it across his lips. “You think I’m hot?”

“Of course,” you murmur, but you know beyond a shadow of a doubt that he can hear it. His eyes are embers, blazing at you from beneath his bangs. “Is that what you normally look like? Is that your true form?”

He makes an iffy sound. “It’s what I looked like when I was human. My true form has more horns and unhinged jaws and claws and all that. You wouldn’t like it.”

“I thought you said you could read my mind. Do you know how much monster porn I’ve consumed? That’s hot as shit to me,” you argue, and he snaps his head towards you in surprise. You point at yourself. “Freak and misfit.”

He laughs, and it sounds like the roaring of an out of control fire, burning up everything in its path. He kicks his heel on the ground and steps up to your circle again. “I like you, baby. I really do. What do you say?”

“How do I know that I can trust you?” you ask, an annoying lump forming in your throat with the question. You’ve been burned before by people far less powerful than this demon, yet who still hold so much power over you. However much they have.

“You can’t,” he answers, more honestly than most would. He tilts his head with a crooked smile. “Not to get all preachy on you, but even if I wasn’t a demon… trust is built, not a given. ‘The devil you know,’ right? Better than the one that you don’t.”

“Yeah,” you agree, your voice coming out breathy and winded the longer you gaze up into his eyes.

“Trust me to be… intense, I guess,” he shrugs. “And probably impulsive. But I’ll always deliver on our deal. Be my witch, my wife, my whore– whatever you want to call it, but be mine. I think we’ll have so much fun together.”

“Yeah, I think– I think I will.” You’re nodding, and his smile grows with yours. “I want to.”

“Let me in, sweetheart.”

Your toe scuffs the boundary on the ground, breaking the circle. Immediately, your senses are assaulted by smoke, not just the tobacco he’s been smoking but the scent of a wildfire, of cities burned to ashes, of desolation and destruction and pyroclastic flow and roaring, exploding volcanoes. 

Your demon crosses the line you’d drawn on the ground with ease, producing the worn composition book in his hand again. The cover reads Hellfire Club in chicken scratch handwriting. 

“Are there others?” You ask, prompted by the word Club on the front as he flips open the book to a middle page. An agreement is already written out in red ink. “Do you have more than one, um…”

“Consort?” He whispers in your ear. Goosebumps rise on your skin, and your stomach flutters. “Not for a long time. I’m very picky about my partners. They have to be just as much of a freak as I am.”

Your heart thumps loudly in your chest, although the admission makes you feel… better, in a way. You squint in the dark, but with the exception of the candles around your circle, there’s nothing to allow you to properly read what’s written on the page. 

He sighs, shifting on his feet beside you. “Are you one of those people who’ll read the whole contract?”

“Absolutely I am,” you hum. The book feels heavier in your hands than it should. “Can you give me a light?”

“Jesus Christ.” He produces a flame from his forefinger just as you turn to give him a confused look. 

“Shouldn’t you, like… evaporate after saying that?”

In the yellow glow of the flame, he just blinks at you, looking amused. “Things aren’t as black and white as you think they are, believe me.”

You snatch his wrist and yank his arm closer to the page. His body collides with yours, and he grunts in your ear as he wraps his other arm around you, embracing you from behind. You’re engulfed in the scent of smoke and the heat of his flames, impossibly hot and comforting all the same. 

His hair brushes your shoulder as you read his contract. It’s just a few lines, but the weight they hold will seal your fate. 

The agreement made this night of the dark moon shall henceforth be enacted from the signing of this document, that hereby renders the human party’s soul bound to the infernal party. Witness that the first party must appear before the second party each full moon to lay in matrimonial fashion, and that in return the first party shall be protected and given the powers of the second from here until the human’s mortal passing. 

“Aww, that’s sweet,” you coo, tracing the red ink with your fingers. 

The demon over your shoulder rolls his eyes. “It’s a fucking pre-nup.”

“Doesn’t seem like a fair trade, though, does it?” You murmur. “I mean, I get the power to change my circumstances and you get– what– sex once a month?”

His hand tightens on your waist, and you pause. You turn your head to look at him, and his eyes flicker dangerously, so close to yours. They aren’t just glowing coals- this close, you can see the small details. You can see the swirling, the churning of lava within them.

“It’s not just sex, is it?”

“What do you think making a deal with a demon entails, sweetheart? Read the fine print.”

You look back at the page. There are no other words on it, save for the ones you’ve already read. “I don’t…?”

“It’s your soul, honey,” he mutters, pointing at the word. His mouth is muffled against your shoulder as he peers over it. “I won’t ask anything of you other than the sex, as long as you live. But right now, you’re offering up your soul. And once your life is up, you get to be just like me. Understand?”

“I… yeah. I understand.” You let go of his wrist, but pause over the pages of the book. “I don’t have anything to sign with.”

Wordlessly, the demon takes your hand. You let him caress your wrist, feeling your pulse with his thumb. Then, before you realize what’s happening, a sharp sting makes you yelp as he cuts your skin with his pointed thumbnail. 

He shushes you, letting the blood well up on your skin. “I did say you needed to sign with blood.”

Your voice shakes when you hold your dripping wrist over the page. “I thought you said you were joking.”

“Not about the book. Rules of the trade, I can’t change it.” Your blood splatters the notebook, dripping into the crease of the page. Once he’s satisfied, he lifts your wrist to his mouth and closes his lips around the small wound. It heals in a heartbeat. 

“Is that it, then?” You ask, mesmerized by the sight and feeling of his mouth on your skin. “Don’t you have to sign?”

Your demon kisses your wrist gently, his lips soft, inviting. “This is going to hurt,” he warns, and you nod. The heat of his breath makes your skin tingle, all your nerves on high alert. 

But then that tingling turns into a burn, that turns into a searing pain. You feel like your skin is on fire, an invisible hot brand held against your wrist. You cry out as he holds you close, letting you bury your face into his neck, holding you up as your knees threaten to buckle. 

“Such a good girl,” he murmurs to you as you whimper. He holds your arm as the pain fades into a throbbing ache, cradles your hand against his cheek as he coos into your hair. “You’re so strong. Not many people can handle my mark, you know. Fate works in funny ways.”

Your demon holds you until you can stand on your own, until your breathing evens out and you can compose yourself. He shushes you quietly, rocking you from side-to-side with a soothing hand stroking your head. Then he holds your face, and kisses your tear stained cheeks. The touch of his lips stokes at flames beneath your skin.

“I’ll look forward to our time together, little witch,” he whispers. And with a quick, chaste kiss to your lips, he disappears entirely. 

You stay in the circle for a while, clutching your throbbing wrist and crying frustrated tears. You wonder if you made the right decision, and yet, you don’t understand why you just want him to come back. You miss the comfort of his presence, even if you don’t know enough about him to justify it. All he did was hurt your arm and take your blood and kiss away your tears and make you a witch. 

It’s too late to go back on your decision now. There’s an all-encompassing fire you can feel burning in your veins, emitting from the pulsating wound on your wrist. His power. His fire. 

You pull your hand away from your wrist to finally inspect the mark that he branded you with, declaring you his in the same chicken scratch that had been on the cover of his book. It’s small enough that a well placed bracelet would cover it, but you don’t know that you’ll want to.

Eddie.

Your demon’s name is Eddie.

[lokis-army-77]

Soul Searching

Demon!Soulmate!Eddie Munson x fem reader

Word Count: 2.3k

Soulmates are rare, even rarer for demons, and yet here you are.

Warning: 18 +. unprotected sex, p n v, not really anything else I don't think.

Thank you to @my-malachai-stilinski for requesting more demon!eddie and @lofaewrites for beta reading💗

Masterlist

It’s closing in on nine at night. Eddie had started his reaping early, hoping there would be more souls to claim when the streets were busy instead of waiting until two or three. 

He was right. Of course, there were more wicked souls to take with him back into the depths of his home, to dump upon some imp who loved to torture and torment. 

As the night went on, he couldn’t help but feel a shift in the breeze as he crouched atop a high roof, watching and waiting for another bounty. Then, the most wonderful scent filled his nostrils. It was like heaven, if there were such a place for him.

He sniffed the air like a hound dog tracking its prey. Magically poofing into thin air only to appear three rooftops away, he searched for what could smell so delicious. 

It only took a matter of minutes until he found you. Your sweet smell permeated through the air and he felt like he could get drunk on it if only he were closer. 

Souls usually never smelled this good, this intoxicating. The ones he encountered on a daily basis, the souls of the truly evil, smelled of rot and decay. Some even smelt of sulfur, pungent, and singed the nose. But not you. Your soul was a bed of freshly picked flowers, honey drizzled on a warm pastry. He couldn’t get enough of it. 

So, he followed you into the night. Sulking through the shadows keeping a watchful eye. 

In his diligence, he sees you stumble and in a flash he's behind you, catching you before you land on your ass. 

You let out a small yelp, expecting to feel the hard ground under you. You don't. You feel two warm hands holding onto your waist, keeping you steady. 

You turn around to thank your savior only to stop suddenly in your movement. You've never felt this feeling before, this warmth spreading through your stomach and the small tingles in your limbs. Yet you know what it is. You've heard of others meeting their soulmates but never had you imagined this meeting would make the group feel like it were shaking beneath your feet.

As you look at him, you realize he isn't entirely human. The back of your mind is screaming at you to cower, to run away and hide. But you don't. The pull of your soulmate stops you from being terrified by those curving horns protruding from his mess of curly hair and the spade tail that had curled its way around your ankle.

It feels like a giant lump in your throat when you start to speak. 

"H-" you swallow. "Hi." 

He stares at you, his golden eyes slit like a cat, taking you in. "Hello."

His voice is deep and rich, almost a purr. 

Eddie thinks you smell even better up close. His nose is picking up even the faintest scents now, the blood running through your veins, the wetness forming between your thighs. 

"Are you my soulmate?" You ask, eyes wide.

Eddie thinks for a moment. He'd never heard of demons having a soulmate. At least no other demon he knew had one, they all just assumed that would no longer have one thanks to their so-called "fall from grace". 

But that would explain your smell. How it was so unique he had never smelled it before. It would also explain why you weren't running from him, screaming, trying to get away. 

Finally, he speaks. "I believe so."

He reaches out his hand, fingers long and thick, and he catches your upper arm. It's like his mind has been taken over by some primal instinct as he pulls you flush to him.

You don't try to fight it. Instead, you nuzzle into him. He smells wonderful, like the smoke from a burning cedar tree and something you can't quite place. 

Then you feel it. The arousal that's started to pool in your panties. You've just met this creature and now he's making you hornier than you've ever been, and you know he knows too with the way his fingers are gripping your skin. 

Eddie is trying to hold off, trying not to take you where you're standing. He's been so lonely for so long and now here you are smelling so sweet that he just has to have a taste. 

He slides his hands up to cup your cheeks. He surges forward while also bringing you to him. When your lips connect, he feels a strong tingle down his spine to the tip of his tail.

You feel something too. A sense of want and need but also belonging. His lips on yours feel like home, like someplace familiar, where you are meant to be. 

Lips pressing on each other's he opens his mouth and presses his tongue into yours, slipping past your teeth and into the warmth of you. He hums and how well you fit together like this and can't help but wonder how well other parts of you will fit. 

He lets out a groan when you slink your arms around his neck, pulling him into you more. 

You've both become needy. Trying to devour one another in the half-light of the street. 

You whimper, legs pressing together. "Take me." Your voice is quiet against his lips, barely above a whisper. "Take me please." You need him, badly. 

Eddie hums against you. Hands still pressing against your cheeks, still pulling you to him.

You know this is going way too fast and so does he but carnal desires can't be stopped once they've started. Not if you're a touch-starved demon and his soulmate.

A gust of wind whips your hair and your stomach drops like when you move way too fast on an amusement park ride.

You gawk when you pull away from the demon to survey your surroundings. You weren’t on the sidewalk anymore. No, you were in a bedroom. 

He watched as you walked around the enormous room. Fingers danced over the wooden posts to the bed. Your eyes were full of wonder as you took in what could only be described as a room taken straight out of an episode of Game of Thrones. 

There were red and black fabrics thrown about the room, several rugs covered the stone floor. Candelabras were lit sporadically around the room as well as torched lining the walls between tapestries depicting gruesome battles.

You turn back to him and are met with heavily lidded eyes. He disappears only to reappear directly in front of you. You gasp.

He brushes a strand of hair away from your face as he says, "You are mine now. Forever." Then he's crashing his lips onto yours once more. 

You crave him, so deep down in your core that it hurts to not have him touching you. So you claw at his clothes. The 80s metal shirt you hadn't realized he was wearing and the leather jeans. 

He follows your lead, taking each item of clothing off until all that was left was his pale skin glowing in the candlelight. He carefully begins to pull your own clothes off, only continuing when you nod your head at his questioning gaze. 

Then, when you are both naked, he mounds his mouth to your skin. Kissing and nipping up and down your neck and shoulders. He walks you backward catching you with strong hands when your knees hit the bed and give out. 

"You're so soft…" He speaks his hands roaming over your hips and backside. "Never felt something so soft in my whole existence."

You can't help but chuckle and let your own hands drift over his strong chest, nails scratching, creating long red marks down his pecs and stomach. 

Leaning up, you kiss him again. Slow and soft and all at once. You pull him down with you as you fall back on the bed. He follows, catching himself with solid arms on either side of you. 

His body covers you completely. 

You break away from the kiss. His dark, lustful, loving eyes stare into yours with an intensity you've never encountered before. 

As you look back at him, eyes exploring every inch of his face, you ask, "What's your name?" 

He looks a little shocked at the question but answers nonetheless. "Eddie."

You hum in response. "I like that name." You bring his back to you and kiss along his cheek over the bridge of his nose to the other cheek. 

"Yeah? I'll make you scream it after a while." He grins wickedly. "But for now I would like to take my time with you. Feel you. Own you."

He takes his fingers and trails them lightly over the contours of your body erecting goosebumps in their wake. Starting from your shoulder, over your collarbone, between your breasts, and past your navel. They stop just above your pussy. 

Impatiently you buck your hips. 

"Now now." He admonishes, taking his hand away. "Don't try and rush me, pet." 

You whine but concede. 

His fingers begin to touch you between your thighs. Massaging into the plush flesh. You sigh, in contentment. 

"Eddie-" His name is a whisper on the wind. 

His spine tingles when he hears you. He never thought those two syllables of his name could ever sound as good as they do when you say them. 

He wants to hear you say it again. He wants to hear you say it over and over and over until your voice gives out. 

"Say it again," He growls. 

And you gasp it out. "Eddie!" When his fingers gently push through your folds. 

The wetness he finds between your legs has him vibrating. All this just for him, your soulmate. He spreads the slick around, savoring how you shudder in his hold when he swipes over your clit. 

He doesn’t want to wait any longer, he’s hardly holding it together as it is. He wants to feel you wrapped around him. 

So, he moves. Thick fingers wrap around your ankles and pull your legs apart. He slots them on either side of himself before pulling you flush, the backs of your thighs meeting the tops of his. 

With no moment to waste, Eddie takes his cock into his hand and gives it a few pumps. He’s huge. Long and thick around. You have no idea how he’s going to fit but you desperately need him inside of you. 

“Please. Need your cock in me.” You beg and wiggle your hips ever so slightly. 

He just chuckles and guides the tip to your waiting entrance. You think it’s fine when he first pushes in, slowly. But as he keeps going, he keeps stretching you. In seconds you are turned into nothing more than a whimpering mess. 

People had talked about how the first time with their soulmates had gone. How the sex was the best they had ever had, how it was so good they couldn’t get enough. But this… This was earth-shattering. 

Maybe it was because your soulmate obviously wasn’t human but you know this isn’t the feeling that normal soulmate copulation tends to elicit. 

You can practically feel you becoming one. Your walls are molding around him the further in he goes, and his cock hits every single spot inside you that brings pleasure. It’s been less than a minute and you’re already shaking.

Eddie falls forward, caging you in below him. His head rests between your neck and shoulder where he opens his mouth and lets his tongue lave at the sweat beginning to cast over you. Even your skin tastes sickeningly sweet. 

His mind is becoming foggy, your cunt is sucking him in, forming to him. He can't help but mutter, “You were made for me… Fuck you feel so good.”  

His lips brush against your neck, sending shivers down your spine. His chest presses against yours and you can feel his heart beating against your skin. It’s all so much for the both of you. 

You’re moaning, loud, and uncaring as he ruts into you. You cry his name, “Eddie!” He just growls when he hears you. 

“Need you so bad.” He grunts. “Need you so so bad.” 

You can feel him all over you. Every place your skin touches, even the slightest bit, is lit up, tingling with a sensation akin to icy hot. 

It hasn’t been that long. He hasn’t been inside you for that long but you can feel that tightness forming. That all too familiar sensation of ecstasy banging at the door to be let out. You moan, trying to hold yourself back. Your hands cling to the demon, nails biting through his skin. 

You can feel him smiling against your neck as his hips move just a tiny bit faster. 

“Let go.” He says. “Let go and show me how good I can make you feel.”  

It’s like his words have some kind of power over you. You can feel yourself letting go. That tightness pulling ever tighter until it snaps. 

His grip tightens and he's pushing deeper, faster. Your orgasm crashes through you, washing over you in a powerful, unstoppable wave. You feel yourself trembling, your body shaking, and spasming. 

“That's it. That’s a good girl. Feel so good cumming around my cock. 

Eddie is still pumping into you, close to his own release. “Say my name.” He mewls, lips coming to slot against your own. 

“Eddie,” You moan. 

“Again,” He begs.” 

“Eddie.” 

“Louder. Scream it if you have to.”

And you do. You scream his name and as soon as you do you feel his cock twitch inside you and right after he lets go. Moaning and whimpering against your mouth. 

He doesn’t move to get off of you, even after he’s spilled everything he could inside of you. He lays there, his body weight a comfort to you.  

You wrap your arms around him and close your eyes as you savor the moment. He finally pulls away and you open your eyes to see him smiling down at you. He leans in and kisses you softly on the lips. 

“I’m so glad I found you,” he whispers. 

You pull him to you, arms wrapped tightly around his neck, and whisper in his ear. “Me too.” 

[fuctacles]

Witch Hunt

for @steddie-spooktober "witch" & @stevieweek "i don't know about this one..." prompt which i've altered quite a bit but used it twice so it kind of evens out, right???

E | 2568 | transfem!Steve (goes by Eve), witch!Steve, demon!Eddie, medieval fantasy, some arson and murder boyfriend vibes, magical srs, possible continuation, im sorry for all the lore | Ao3 more spooktober: "would you please stop trying to scare them?"

Eddie hated his job. Not only the human realm was much colder than Hell, but also, the Deal didn't always work. The success rate has been increasing each time, but it still pissed him off when nothing happened after he's been freezing his balls off for hours. He was starting to think all his fur was just decorative. 

When he had arrived at Heimdall's, the guy threw him a skimpy tunic that barely covered his privates. 

"Is this the only one you have? You can see my whole dick and balls in it," Eddie had complained, but beggars can't be choosers and all that. 

He wraps the fabric tighter around himself when the next gust of air moves clouds away from the moon, making the pile of debris in the clearing visible. Time passes and Eddie waits impatiently, tapping his hooves against the ground, and idly picking stray grass blades from his tail. It seems like the pile moves a couple of times, but it's just the wind disturbing it. 

A distant clock tower strikes midnight, and finally, the ash pile moves and keeps on moving, until a hand emerges. Eddie straightens up, his tail twitching in interest. 

The ashes start breathing, the charred remains get knocked down and a coughing fit raises a dark cloud into the air. She'll be spitting soot for hours, but at least she's up now, another success for the statistics. 

He decides to take pity on the poor girl and steps away from the fence he's been perched on, making room for his wings. With two good swats, the dirt is gone, leaving a slightly dirty, very naked woman in the middle of a charred circle. 

He raises his eyebrows. 

"These fucking perverts burnt you naked?"

She finally notices his presence, her red-rimmed eyes blinking rapidly to clear her vision, and stands up on shaky legs, still low on energy after her resurrection, barely maintaining her balance. Suddenly, Eddie doesn't seem to matter anymore, as her hands fly to her chest. 

"What...?" she murmurs to herself.

Eddie tilts his head, watching the human with curiosity. Usually, the arrival of a demon gets a bigger fanfare, he's almost insulted, but he waits patiently. He already did for so long, and now he has something pretty to lay his eyes on for once. Witches usually came with ugly meat sacks, even after their resurrection. 

"Where the fuck is my dick?!"

Ah, yes, that would explain it. The naked thing, too.

"Do you want it back?" Eddie asks because he's a demon with manners. 

"No!" she protests immediately, eyes snapping up to him from observing her crotch. "No," she adds softer. "I like it like that." Her hand reaches down to inspect her new parts, so Eddie takes it upon himself to swat it away with his tail.

"Hey!" 

He tsks, his long tongue slipping out to flick in a warning. 

"Let's not put any more dirt in your holes, okay?" he berates her. Regretfully, he shrugs off the tunic he's been wearing and throws it at the girl. "For your modesty, m'lady." 

She glowers at him but slips it over her head anyway. What was small for the demon, doesn't do much more for a human, especially not one with the curves that she has. She wrinkles her nose. 

"Is there even a point? You can see my whole—"

Eddie slaps her hand preemptively. 

"Hey! I wasn't even touching it!" 

"Your hand was too close."

"No, it wasn't!" 

Eddie rolls his eyes. 

"Let's clean you up and then you can touch it all you want. You have a river in this ditch?" he asks, nose twitching in the air. He turns at the same time the witch points her hand. 

"To the left of the village." 

Eddie's eyes stray to the cluster of houses she seems determined not to look at.

"Do you have anyone left there?" he asks curiously.

"Not anymore," she scoffs, taking off towards the river. 

Eddie has to follow her, he can't risk losing a witch, but an urge flares inside of him that he has to let loose. He claps his hands together and starts rubbing, sparks flying until a fire forms in his palm. He bounces it from one hand to another and nuzzles it with his finger, always happy to work with the little guys. When he feels the witch is watching him, he refocuses and whispers to it:

"Go, little one. Do your worst."

The flame flies off his palm, aided by a push from Eddie's phantom wings. 

She doesn't ask, only eyes him curiously, but he pushes gently on her back to prompt her into walking along his side. 

"It's gonna take a while," he says without any other explanation. 

The walk isn't long, and soon she's handing over the tunic and dipping into the lazily flowing water, dark like ink but glittering with the reflection of stars above. The night sky is probably the only thing Eddie misses in the Underworld. 

He sits on the plush grass, observing as the witch dunks under the surface and rubs her skin until it turns pink. It still contrasts with the water like it's made of the finest porcelain. 

"I guess you're clean enough to explore now," he says as her movements slow down like she's already contemplating it. She must be, he can taste her curiosity from his spot on the river bank.

"You're gonna sit there and watch?" she glowers at him.

"Of course," he answers matter-of-factly. "I'm a demon."

She huffs, but this time it sounds more amused. Her hand travels down her body.

"What's your name, witch?" Eddie asks, resting his chin on his hand. 

"Stev—" she hesitates. 

"Eve?" he picks up curiously. That would be hilarious. 

She kind of nods, kind of shakes her head. 

"I was Steven, then I went by Stevonne, but..."

"That's okay, take your time," Eddie reassures her. "This is your Rebirth, you can pick any name you like."

She hums, and he can see her hand making slow, circling movements under the water. 

"I like Eve," she admits.

"Yeah?" Eddie perks up with a smile. "You can call me Eddie. It's nice to make your acquaintance, Eve."

She smiles and opens her mouth to say something, but her attention is pulled somewhere above Eddie's shoulder. The water starts glowing orange. 

"Looks like the little guy is having fun," he hums, not looking around. The glow of fire looks better on Eve's skin anyway. 

The river carries distant cries for help, a reminder that it's not just a big, pretty bonfire. 

"Don't worry, he'll get them all," he says.

"I'm not worried," she assures quickly. 

Eve's fixated on the fire consuming her village, her eyes full of awe and the reflection of flames. She's glowing in the now orange water and she looks gorgeous reflecting Eddie's carnage like that. She'll look breathtaking among hellfire. 

"Maybe we could spare some," he wonders out loud with a lazy smile. She looks back at him. "So we can hunt them down later. The way they hunt my new favorite witch."

She smiles, mean and thrilled. He'll have to fight fang and claw to keep her.

"Maybe we could." 

They look at each other for a long while, until his eyes dip. 

"You done?" Eddie looks pointedly at her stilled hand. She sighs with frustration. 

"It's way different from this angle," she complains. 

Eddie laughs out loud, the sound echoed by the collapsing church that used to tower over the townsfolk. 

"Need a hand?" he offers, rolling his eyes when she eyes his claws with distrust. He flicks out his tongue instead. "Need a tongue?" 

Eve's totally on board for that, clambering out of the water, her hazelnut hair dripping over her curves. The wet shine on her skin reflects the dancing flames and Eddie would be in love if he knew how to.

"Weren't you appalled that I was watching you just seconds ago?" he laughs at her, a little bit mean, but he already knows she can take it. 

"Turns out I like that," she shrugs without shame, making Eddie's smile grow. The sight of his sharp teeth doesn't deter her either. In an instant, he has a lap full of a human, or at least as much of one there was left in Eve. He has her tits right in his face and he wouldn't be a demon if he didn't give them a taste, licking the river water off her skin. She sighs, fingers tangling in his unruly mane of hair, seeking purchase in his horns. He groans when she grabs them, and wraps his arms around her, pressing into her skin so he can flip them around, and lay her down in the bed of grass. 

Her yelp turns into a delighted laugh and Eddie trembles with the sound. They don't make witches like that anymore. Free and open to the joys of life, ready to frolic and mingle with the things Unknown. Christianity made it so hard for demons and fae to get laid. 

He presses hot kisses down her torso, spends extra time sucking around her navel, then nibbling around her mound, hiking her thighs higher and higher, nosing at the crease there, inhaling her scent, until he gets to his destination. It takes two, three expert licks for Eve to lock her legs around him and scream into the night. 

Eddie gently laps up around her hole, her juices too precious to let fall on the grass below. Her breath hitches and she trembles but doesn't move away. 

"Do you want more?" he asks, black eyes searching for an answer. 

Her eyes are still full of fire.

"Yes."

So he gives her one more, then three, until he loses count and his tongue is numb and Eve's but a puddle of human-shaped limbs underneath him. When he laps at her entrance, drunk himself on her smell and taste, she spreads her legs invitingly, eyes blown and impossibly wide, sparkling with flames. 

They stare into each other's dark eyes as he slithers his tongue inside. He rubs against her walls, searching for her face for a reaction, but she's too out of it for anything more than an involuntary twitch of muscles. However, when he moves away, she seems disappointed. He crawls up her body to properly look at her face, but before he can say anything, she lurches forward.

Kissing is not something he's used to in such circumstances, but he indulges anyway, letting her tongue inspect the sharp points of his teeth, and maneuver his hand on her breast. He squeezes, laps, and sucks, letting himself get lost in this new dance. 

"You know," he says when she breaks away to restore oxygen. "I don't do that outside of sealing a deal," he admits.

Eve blinks at him owlishly. 

"You don't kiss just for fun? Aren't you a demon?"

Eddie barks out a laugh. 

"I guess kissing is too tame for our tastes." 

"What's your taste?" she asks, curiosity radiating off of her in hot waves. 

He hums, caressing her side.

"Insane witches, apparently."

"What do you do with them?" she presses on, her leg moving dangerously high up his body, the coarse hair of his thighs not enough to deter her.

"Well, personally..." Eddie likes to play with his food, a habit he couldn't shake since his childhood, so he rolls away from Eve to lie on his side instead. To placate her, he starts playing with the hair that grow low on her belly. "I collect the resurrected witches and show them around. You'll get a tour of Hell and any other realms you wish to see, and then I'll help you settle wherever you feel like."

With every word, the pout on her face only grows. 

"You're not keeping me?" she asks, playing up the whine in her voice, but he knows there are genuine feelings behind it. 

"Witches aren't meant to be tied down," he explains apologetically. "They're free spirits abusing the laws of reality." He reaches for her hand to press a kiss against her fingers. "It's a power best wielded in solitude."

She pries her hand away and sits up.

"Why would I want the power if I can't share it? Don't witches have like... familiars? Or something?"

Eddie frowns.

"A witch of your power doesn't need one. They're meant to amplify and aid spells, and you're pretty much on the same level as a common demon."

"Are you a common demon?"

"Yes," he nods. 

"So we can't make a deal?" she presses on. 

His frown deepens. 

"Why would you want a deal with someone equal in power? Deals are made between a master and a servant."

"But is it not possible? Can't I have an equal by my side? A partner in crime?"

Maybe he should backtrack on her being his favorite. She's asking too many questions, ones he's not used to from a freshly reborn witch. He sighs. 

"Technically you can, but it's an exclusive deal. You're tied for eternity, you belong to each other. It's not a common practice," he says, playing off what he's been told and overheard. "Master-servant contracts have an expiration date and are easier to break. I'm not sure a deal like that could even be broken."

Eve wraps her hands around her knees, processing the information. 

"So I could tie a demon, or an equally powerful being, to myself for all eternity?" 

Somehow, Eddie doesn't like the idea of Eve making a deal like that with a random demon. He nods, though.

"Yes."

"Let's say I'd want to do that with you, right now. How would that look?" she asks curiously. 

He thinks about it, imagines it, and it pains him deep into his core. 

"A simple deal is sealed with a kiss or a blood pact. A deal between equals requires an intercourse."

"Huh."

The idea doesn't seem appalling to her, which doesn't surprise him at this point. He can feel her eyes sliding down his body.

"You're not going to find my dick like that," he says with amusement. 

She huffs but doesn't budge, searching his gaze instead. 

"Wouldn't you want to make me yours? And you mine?"

Eddie considers it. 

"I never thought about it before," he admits. "Is that something you'd want?"

She lays back on the grass with a sigh. 

"I'm just tired of being alone. Of nobody staying. You're the nicest person I've met in years, and you're not even human." He laughs at that, and she turns towards him with a smile. "You burnt a village for me." She frowns. "Unless you do that for all the witches."

Eddie quickly shakes his head. Too quickly.

"Only the most mistreated ones," he admits. 

"Is it a pity thing, then?"

"No," he protests again. "I wanted to do something nice for you."

Eve smiles. 

"Thank you."

He smiles back, and when he leans down, she meets him for a lazy kiss. 

"Would you make me yours?" she asks when they part and the offer sounds alarmingly tempting. 

"You should meet other demons before making a commitment like that," he says, and she rolls her eyes. Then, his ears twitch as he finds the perfect distraction for them both. 

"You ready to hunt?" he smiles down at her, wide and dangerous. "Someone escaped the fire."

ko-fi

[bettyfrommars]

Okay but what about something smutty about Eddie being your sleep paralysis demon?? He’s coming by to visit and terrorize you, but once he sees his delicious you are, wants to have a different kind of fun?

18+ONLY, sleep paralysis, nightmares, satire, no smut (ILY I'm sorry) just a wee blurb

Nightmare Factory Masterlist

Eddie is your sleep paralysis demon, but he's really bad at it.

He's new to the gig; he was sent there on assignment from The Nightmare Factory. It's just another job to pay the bills, one that he doesn't take too seriously. On the first day, he has this heart-in-his-throat moment when he sees you, and then he immediately feels guilty that he's slinking around in your room at night while you sleep. Life for a professional Sleep Paralysis Demon (SPD certified) is, indeed, a lonely one. It's a lot of lurking and longing, and he's starting to realize that he might not be cut out for it.

But then, one night, he's sitting on the side of your bed, telling you about his day in soft whispers that he thought you would never hear, when your eyes fly open.

He stands up to apologize, but all you see is a faceless, shadow figure standing at the end of the bed, watching you.

You try to scream, but no sound comes out. You try to wake up, but it feels like you already are, and panic sets in.

Eddie takes a few steps toward you, moving his hands, trying to explain. "Listen I know this is weird but hear me out---I'm not here to hurt you. This is just a job, that's all it is, and if they didn't send me, they would've sent some other dude. Not to sound like a creep or anything but I like you and--"

But all you hear is this loud shrieking, like a banshee wail, as the thing shuffles closer. You try to move, but your limbs feel like they are stuck in concrete.

Eddie takes a few more steps, getting right up by your head to look down at you, willing you to understand him. "I'm not trying to freak you out, okay, I promise, but I've been working up the courage to say that I like coming here to hang out with you. I just wish we knew how to communicate because I think we'd have a lot in common."

The dark figure is screaming in your face, right above you, and inside your head you are begging for it to leave you alone.

Eddie hears a whimper come out of your throat as if you are trying to scream and he realizes maybe this approach isn't working, and so he backs up. "Hey, hey, it's okay, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I'm going to wake you up now, okay? It's all good sweetheart, here we go, let me help you..."

You wake up choking on a frightened sob, and then you scramble to flick the bedside light on, gasping, on the verge of tears. You sit up in bed and pull the covers to your chin, eyes darting around the empty room, trembling.

Above you, Eddie floats on the ceiling, apologizing in a voice too low for any human ears to hear.

Later, back at the Nightmare Factory headquarters, he puts in his SPD resignation, citing emotional damage. A bummer in more ways than one, since those two months of SPD training were down the drain.

He goes to stand in front of the message board, to look at the job openings he could apply for. He can't help but wonder which one of the available nightmare positions would get him closer to you.

[spotsandsocks]

Tease Tidbit Tuesday😈

My lovelies @tizniz @jesuisici33 @wikiangela thank you for tags

Finished author!Buck so obviously the next thing for me to do is get obsessed by demon!eddie. So as a tease here are the titles of some but not all of our demon lords. I may have gone over the top but who cares…. Also some of these may not be who you might think they are…

Prince of Flame and Shadows, Deliverer of Retribution and Unholy Justice, Scurge of the Soulless, Soldier Of Hell and Keeper of the Seven Keys of Forgiveness

Her Grace, The Lady of Wisdom, Royal Sword of He who leads us, Queen of Righteous Vengeance, Bringer of Retribution and Regret and the Terror of the Fallen

Empress of Lost Souls and Sinners, Seeker of Lies and Deceit and Holder of The Chalice of Veracity.”

Barroness; Twice Born Warrior, Watcher of the night and Hope of the Betrayed

Our Imperial Judge and Lord, Prince of the Silenced, Eyes of the Blinded and Abandoned. Lance of the Forgotten and Hidden Hearts

Duke of anguish and defeat . Torment of the Betrayers, guard to the traitor gate and the King’s last Arrow

The owner of the first title is already known in some of the clips so far… not hard to guess either

No pressure tags @monsterrae1 @dr-shortsighted-owl @thelikesofus @beyourownanchor6 @bekkachaos @buffaluff @thekristen999 @daffi-990 @exhuastedpigeon @buddiediaz118 @eddiebabygirldiaz @sunflowerwemadeit @repressedqueen @caroandcats @theotherbuckley @bi-buckrights @lonelychicago @stagefoureddiediaz @inell @hippolotamus @rogerzsteven @diazsdimples and anyone else who wants to share I just tagged people I think might like a demon!au lmk if you want to be added for this one or not tagged at all 💜

[inflomora-art]

something something devil’s dance by metallica

available here x

[mrwinterr]

Eddie Munson Masterlist

* indicates 18+ content.

🚫 MINORS DO NOT INTERACT 🚫 don’t click it, plz.

mrwinterr masterlist

welcome to my eddie munson era.

Enjoy the Ride (preview)

Mayhem (Demon!Eddie Munson AU) - preview

Die Happy* (Ghost!Eddie Munson AU)

The Nerve (featuring some Steve Harrington)

[fairyysoup]

the devil i know

chapter two: look here all you want

(repost)

fic tag | fic playlist | fic masterlist

pairing(s): crossroads demon!eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: Eddie gets your car back. You're trying not to look a gift horse in the mouth.

cw: deal with a demon, inspired by american and european folklore, sacrilegious themes, horror, witch!reader, reader is 21+ in modern day, eddie is immortal, coercion (a bit), sex pact, marking, possessive behavior, animal death, trauma, reader is ostracized by her very religious hometown, depictions of abuse, dark comedy, dead dove: do not eat

please check masterlist and individual parts for content warnings before reading. this fic contains dark themes. your media consumption is your own responsibility.

ALL OF MY WORKS ARE 18+ MINORS DNI

Eddie makes sure that the man feels him before he sees him. It may be cruel, but he’s always had a flair for the dramatic– once a Dungeon Master, always a Dungeon Master– and what’s Hell without a little fun and debauchery?

The man smells Eddie’s sickly sweet, smoky aroma first. It’s the first thing anyone notices about him, of course. The shit follows him everywhere, alerting people of his presence like a fucking cat collar with a bell on it. The wind that he conjures always smells at least like a bonfire– at worst, he’s the grand eruption of Mount Vesuvius. He guesses it’s some sort of infernal practical joke (he formed the hellfire club in life, so now he has to remain in it for the rest of time, or some shit. Don’t ask him. He doesn’t know all the answers, just the dumb ones).

Then the man jolts, his eyes flying all around him as he hears Eddie. Or, at least, what Eddie allows him to hear. It begins in whispers, like leviathans in the mists, murmuring and overlapping each other. It rocks slowly toward a crescendo. And then, Eddie’s voice, soft before the man realizes what’s happening to him. 

“Found you.”

There’s a sickening crack, and then the windshield of the car explodes beneath the man’s spine. He barrel rolls to the ground to find Eddie looming over him, staring him down, his eyes dead black and unforgiving.

“Hi, Spencer.” The heel of Eddie’s boot crushes against the man’s chest, holding him down. Eddie’s voice is comically musical, like the crackling of brush just beginning to go up in flames. “Busy tonight, are we?”

The man, Spencer, trembles as he stares up at Eddie. Blood tinges his bottom lip, either from biting it when he hit the windshield, or from coughing up whatever blood exists in his fermented body. 

He gestures at the duffel bag that he’d been holding when Eddie grabbed him, now laying on the ground. “Look, man– I dunno who you are, b-but you can have all the fuckin’ money, it’s right there–”

“I don’t want your fucking money.” Eddie squints at him, trying to gauge Spencer’s thoughts. They’re malicious, yes, but not murderous. He robbed the liquor store down the street, and then he pulled into the motel around the corner to try to check in with the money. He’s dangerous and stupid, but he’s not a killer. Yet.

Eddie didn’t have to read the guy’s mind to know that, though.

“Whose car is this?”

“What?”

“Whose–” Eddie digs his boot harder into the guy’s chest– “Car?”  

“Some fuckin’ small town whore, how should I know?” Now is not the time to play coy. Spencer learns that when Eddie’s foot shoots forward, and the toe of his book connects ungraciously with his chin. Pain rockets through his jaw. “Fuck!”  

“Save it.” Eddie’s temper has grown exponentially with his immortality, he thinks. He wonders sometimes if he’d always been this way, or if Hell has just made him worse. Probably both. “Do you have any idea who you’ve stolen from?”

He’s seen the memory– Spencer, drunk off his ass and running on blind adrenaline from robbing a corner store, stole your car from the parking lot of a diner; the diner where you work. 

You had to walk home in the rain. Eddie’s heart practically aches, watching you come home to an empty apartment, dirty and wet and shivering. He never wants to see it happen to you again as long as you live. He’s promised you that it won’t. 

He also promised they’ll get as good as they gave. And demon or not, Eddie Munson never ever goes back on a promise.

“Hell, I stole from lotsa people,” Spencer chuckles, his head sliding back and forth across the pavement as he rolls his eyes, gargling on the blood in his mouth. “F’yer here to collect, y’can just take the money and go. I ain’t got nothin’ else.”

“Oh, but you do, Spence.” Eddie grins with sharp teeth when he bends down to pick Spencer up by his throat. The flames in his eyes burst to life, roaring red and demonic. A flash of recognition crosses Spencer’s face when he realizes that Eddie is far more than he seems. “See, you stole from my girl. Now you get to suffer.”

Eddie was always intimidating. He made himself appear like that to push people away, until it started to backfire on him, and then it just got worse when he became a demon. It’s a natural instinct for humans to shrink away. He emanates danger, even when he’s not putting on a show– even when his eyes are dark and he isn’t producing fire from his hands. 

That’s one of the things that sealed your fate. You didn’t shrink away from him, even when he tested you. He’s always been a show off, and he’s very egotistical, he won’t lie. He gave you a little taste of his dark side, showed you his hellfire and brimstone, and you called him hot. To his face.

Well, you’re the prettiest girl he’s ever seen. Even if he wasn’t already sold on you, there was absolutely no way he was letting you go after that.

Eddie dumps Spencer on the ground. In Spencer’s head, the haunting voices seem to crash back raucously as magma boiling at the lip of a volcano. A chill sweeps through Spencer’s body as it retreats, as he feels the creeping panic rising in him, the ringing in his ears. Then, as soon as it fades, it’s again overthrown by the chorus, the cacophony of behemoth voices. Overlapping each other, humming along with the slow heartbeat of the drums.

It’s the arc toward the end of the death metal album Eddie wanted to write during his lifetime, but never got the chance to. It has to be good for something, even if Spencer is never going to appreciate Eddie’s musical genius. 

Spencer doesn’t need to know that, though.

Spencer lays trembling, his hands clapped tight around his ears. Nothing will stop it, save time– and by then, Spencer will probably be wishing Eddie had just killed him and gotten it over with.

Eddie steps around Spencer’s body, sighing. If Hell has made him cruel, it’s also made him weirdly just. Great power, great responsibility… all that jazz. 

Yeah, the powers are pretty fucking cool, he won’t lie about that. 

The windshield of the car decompresses itself at Eddie’s touch, the glass creaking and groaning as it fits back into proper shape. From there, it glows bright orange and melts back into one solid pane of glass, back in the way that it had been before Spencer’s back played Happy New Year with it.

Eddie sits in the driver’s seat, his fingers nearly denting the steering wheel where he grips it. He just hopes that you don’t freak out when he gets your car back to you.

You freak out.

Granted, you only made the deal with Eddie yesterday, and you had a long day at work. For you, the afternoon had been painfully slow. Maybe it was a good thing that the diner doesn’t have a major rush every single lunch service, but it just means more of the shit work that your newbie manager, Colin, loves to give to you now that he has the authority to. You don’t know if it’s payback for you making him slice bread during his training, but he’s taking it a little bit too seriously. 

You’re technically a waitress, so it’s really not in your fucking job description, but tonight he made you clean the men’s bathroom. 

Did you know how many men will just ejaculate onto the wall of the men’s bathroom in a small town diner? No. But now you do, and the answer is too many.

You had to walk home, as per usual since your car was stolen a little less than a week ago. And then you got to your apartment complex, got to the last place on the last row of buildings, and your fucking car was there, in your parking space. Beautiful and gleaming and with fresh license plates.

You’re freaking out. You absolutely are– you didn’t think it was going to happen this quickly. You figured there must be some kind of wait period. Demons aren’t obligated to make shit happen right away, are they?

(They’re not. But this demon could care less.)

When you get inside, all it takes is a single whiff of smoke to deduce that he’s there. In your apartment. With all the lights turned off. You flick one on and find nothing.

“Eddie?” You say his name out loud for the first time, your voice muddled with awe. The faintest of murmurs, but to him you may as well have screamed it.

The lights flicker, and in a flash he’s standing before you. Across the room, leaning against the door to the bedroom like a vision. His eyes crackle with fire, a coy smirk on his face. “I like the way you say my name. It’s pretty.”

You startle, your body suddenly functioning apart from your mind. Your back hits the front door you’ve just stepped through, mirroring him.

“Whoa whoa whoa– hey! It’s okay.” He holds his hands out toward you, palms up, like you’re a frightened animal. In a way, you are. “We’ve been through this before, princess. You don’t have to worry about me, I’m just your friendly neighborhood demon.” 

Eddie reminds himself to stop rewatching Spider-Man every time he gets a chance.

It has to be fake, you think. You’re exhausted, he couldn’t be here. And yet the room is filled with his fragrance, suffocating and somehow intoxicating. Like you might die from it but you’ll enjoy it all the same. It’s so magnetic that it nearly pulls you to him, taking a hesitant step forward toward the bedroom and then stopping short.

“How– you’re not– how are you here?” You ask him as softly as you can manage. “I thought you could only show up at a crossroads.”

“Not everything is literal, sweetheart.” He thumps his hand against the door behind him, giving you a dazed smile. “Points of entry and departure. Two paths meeting. Crossroads.”

“Huh.”

Eddie takes in the sight of you steadily, calmly, worried that if he moves too suddenly then you might disappear. You’re wearing a black, retro-style waitress’ dress and running shoes– muddy from your walk home. You clutch your house keys to your chest almost instinctively.

That reminds him of the reason that he’s here– not just to check you out, unfortunately. He brandishes your car keys, dangling them from one crooked finger. “Brought you your car.”

“Yeah, I, uh… I noticed.” After a heavy beat, you look away. Your voice is thick with tears– you’re crying. “Sorry. Thank you. I didn’t, um– I didn’t mean to offend–”

“Hey– You didn’t.” Eddie doesn’t know what to do with your tears– he doesn’t want to see you cry, ever, but he’s spent a little too much time causing tears to know how to effectively stop them anymore. He places the keys on the counter nearest him, leading into the kitchen. “I know, it’s not what you’re used to.”

“It’s not,” you agree. “It’s nice.”

Eddie rocks back against the door, pressing into it. The wood creaks under his weight. “Nice,” he echoes. “Haven’t been called that in a while. It’s… nice.”

You snort, and it’s enough to have him grinning all over again. You turn away slightly, and when you turn back you smile at him sheepishly. Trying to suck back the tears that had sprung forth so quickly. “How did you get the car back?”

He squints. He thinks to remind you that he has magic, something that a normal person wouldn’t be able to use– except, he didn’t just poof it into your parking space. He drove it, like a dumbass.

He clicks his tongue. Be cool. “I had a talk with the guy who stole it. He won’t be bothering anyone anymore.”

“Oh my god– you killed him?” 

Not that cool. “No! No, I– I would nev–” you’re a demon– “I would seriously consider the consequences–”

“This is unbelievable.” 

“Hey, I got you the car back. Without killing! Even though it took so so so much impulse control, please clap.” He tilts his head and grins at you. He figures he probably looks insane with his glowing eyes and cheshire cat smile.

You nod and take a calculated step forward. You point at the open wine bottle on your kitchen counter. “I’m getting a drink.”

He shrugs. “You own the place.”

“No, I don’t,” you scoff, approaching him. The scent of smoke grows stronger with each step, until you’re engulfed in it. “I pay rent up the ass because I can’t afford any place else.”

Eddie watches you pour a glass of wine with the interest of a collector looking at a piece of fine art. “What would you prefer?” 

The air hangs thick with implication. What do you want me to do? Eddie holds the edge of the counter with his ringed fingers, watching your brow screw up in contemplation. He wants to reach forward and smooth it over with his thumb, get rid of any worries you might have.

He’s a sorry son of a bitch, is what he is.

“What I want–” you stop, your eyes falling to his hand. You stare at it for a long time. Hard knuckles that you’re sure have drawn blood, clunky rings like weapons. You wonder why he keeps them there indefinitely, why he chooses those accessories, keeps this form. He’s intimidating, dangerous-looking, and yet you feel a weird sort of comfort around him. 

He’s the most dangerous thing in any room, and he’s asking what you want.

You look up into the demon’s smoldering eyes, and take a breath. “What I need is to not take home pocket change, because my shithead manager won’t stop skimming my tips. Y’know I trained the fucker?” Eddie’s eyebrows shoot up. “Yeah. Piece of shit won’t stop giving me crap work just because he can, and I’m– I’m–”

Eddie wordlessly nudges the wine glass towards you with the tip of his finger. You grab it and take a long gulp. 

You sort of stutter and cough, trying to catch your breath when your tears of exhaustion keep wanting to spill. You’re furious. You’re so fucking angry that it’s vibrating in your bones, threatening to wither and crack them under its force. You start breathing in heavy, short bursts of air that don’t do much to calm you down at all.

“I’m barely making enough to cover my rent even with my tips,” you continue. “But now he’s stealing them and I’m having to skip breakfast to save food and I can’t find another job because the people in this town fucking hate me–”

A warm hand settles onto your back, heavy between your shoulder blades. A little bit of the tension in your shoulders melts and releases, but along with it comes the tears you were holding back. You shiver, leaning further into his touch as though it’ll ground you. Your sinuses are sore and your eyes sting as hot tears slide down your cheeks, but you let Eddie hold you up. 

“Want me to kill that guy for you?” Eddie smirks when you cough out a little laugh that sounds more like a hiccup, but he’ll take it. “What? I’m so fucking serious. I’m not gonna let anything hurt you anymore. What kind of a demon daddy would I be if I did?”

“Shut up.” You bat his chest with the back of your hand. He chuckles, and the sound is as warm and soothing as his hand on your back. Your lip wobbles, your brow screwing up as you try to even out your voice, but you just come out sounding like you’ve got something stuck in your throat. “What are you, a genie with three wishes? I tell you my sorrows and you snap your fingers and fix it?”

“You get a lot more than three with me, sweetheart,” Eddie promises. His eyes are unwavering, his hand stroking lightly back and forth between your shoulders in a way that has you hypnotized, leaning towards him. “And it may take more than just snapping my fingers, but yes. I’ll do it for you.”

“Why?”

“Because we’re married, baby.” He holds your gaze gently, hoping not to upset you any further. “‘Til death do we part,’ right? We’re a team now. Your needs, my needs. That’s why you signed the contract. That’s why I gave you this.” Eddie’s warm hand ghosts over your wrist, and the mark that bears his name seared into your skin. The mark tingles, itching with recognition at his touch. “Just say the word and it’s yours.”

You’re still crying. Big, glossy tears falling down your cheeks, making him falter. He’s floundering. He doesn’t know how to make them stop, and the more he tries to get you to tell him, the harder they’re falling. You aren’t hyperventilating anymore, thank fuck, but you’re still quietly sobbing, and you’re not telling him what he needs to know.

Eddie tries searching for it. Squints at you, tries reaching into your mind to find what you need– sort of the same way that he saw the memory of you and the fucker who stole your car. All he gets is one repetitive thought, spinning around in the forefront of your mind. 

Hold me. Hold me. Hold me.

“C’mere,” he tells you softly. Eddie reaches forward, turning you slowly by the shoulder until you’re facing him. He watches your face for any kind of disgust– there’s nothing, save the big tears that keep falling. 

He pulls on your shoulder, just barely, and you crumple. You face plant into his chest and take a deep, shuddering breath that rattles in your lungs and tastes like a campfire. Eddie is warm as a space heater and his arms are strong, wrapped around you tightly to keep you from falling. 

Eddie holds you until he feels you stop crying. He thinks. Maybe you’re still crying, but it isn’t shaking your entire body anymore, and he feels like that’s a move in the right direction.

“Just say the word,” he speaks into your hair, just loud enough for you to hear. A timid hand comes up to pet the back of your head. He hasn’t held someone like this in ages. “I can try to read your mind, but then I get the wrong idea, and you won’t like what I’ll do. I’m willing to do anything for you, honest. But y’gotta tell me, baby.”

You hesitate, and then you pull back, puckering your lips in a way that distracts him. He fixates on them, tilting his head as he watches the way they move. Remembering how they felt on his own when he kissed you last night. He hasn’t kissed someone in ages, either.

“No killing Colin,” you conclude, knocking him out of his reverie. He groans. “I’m serious! He’s a dick, but I don’t want that on my conscience. Please, Eddie.”

“Not even a little bit?”

“No.”

“Fine,” Eddie grumbles, pouting and stomping his feet. “But you wouldn’t feel that way if you saw the kind of torture we can whip out in ye olde Hell. Make your skin crawl right the fuck off. Ooh! That’s actually a good idea–”

“Maybe, sometime.” You shake your head. “But not now. Just�� get him to quit. Or something. Okay?” 

Your hand presses into Eddie’s chest. It feels like a blast straight into his infernal heart. His eyes fall to it, taking in the willing touch that you give him and letting it define his entire being for a second.

Oh, he’s in trouble. He’s really, really done for.

“Okay, sweetheart. Anything you want.” 

His kiss is a ghost of a touch on your cheek, just barely a whisper of skin on skin. Just enough to make you gasp and nearly turn your head, to lock his lips with yours. You practically fight the urge to do it. Your heartbeat kicks up– not for the reason you think it should, either. You aren’t scared. He doesn’t make you nervous– at least, not in an uncomfortable way. 

You want Eddie to press his lips to yours, and you want him to hold you again. You want him to stay indefinitely. Make a home on your couch and hold you in his lap all night. You think that if you asked him, he might do it. Anything you want, right?

But he pushes away from the kitchen counter, and he’s gone as quickly as he appeared, in a rush of air carrying his scent. With a sigh, you sink back on your heels, finding yourself wishing that his arms were still there around you, to catch you before you fall.

You lift your glass of wine to your lips. The imprint of his name still itches on your wrist.

[lokis-army-77]

Dinner for Three

Demon!Eddie Munson x Human!female reader x Angel!Steve Harrington

Word Count: 2208

It's date night with two supernatural beings and before reader can eat dinner, she becomes the meal.

Warning: 18+ unprotected sex, double penetration, anal fingering, and sex (female receiving), p in v, threesome

Masterlist

Everyone knows that old saying that you have an angel on one shoulder and a devil on the other. Well, some don't realize that it is a very true statement, at least for me. Either a blessing or a curse, I had somehow been granted the presence of two supernatural beings in the form of two of the hottest guys I'd ever had the pleasure of interacting with. 

At first, their presence were just whispers, helping me to make decisions. Then slowly, for unknown reasons, they began to manifest themselves in physical forms. I had met Steve at the grocery store one afternoon and soon after I met Eddie at a bar in town while I was out to drink with a couple of my friends. I kept running into them more and more until we eventually started to hang out separately. It wasn’t until I saw the both with one another in town that we started to hang out just the three of us.

Now, I had no intention of falling head over heels for these two, especially after they told me what they were, but here we were, on date night number three. We each sat at my small dining room table, Eddie was on my right, while Steve was on my left. I had barely gotten to take a sip of my wine when I felt soft and calloused fingers sipping up my legs and under the skirt of my dress. I tried pushing them away with my own hands, but they were back in an instant. 

“Can you two stop, I’m trying to enjoy this dinner?” I looked between both of them. 

Eddie just smiled his wicked grin as he massaged his fingers into the fat of my thigh. “How can I stop when you look so delicious? I may just skip straight to dessert.”

“That may be the best idea you’ve ever had Demon,” Steve answered, his own soft fingers traveling further up my leg. 

I gulped. Having the attention of both of them at the same time was overwhelming but somehow comforting at the same time. When both of them looked at me the way they were now, with sultry stares and tongues darting out to moisten their lips, it made butterflies flutter in my stomach and I struggled to deny myself the pleasure they could give me. 

I tried to ignore them, to pick up my fork and eat the pasta it had taken me so long to prepare. Yet, in the end, when Eddie leaned over and began nibbling on my earlobe, the metal utensil fell from my grasp and clattered onto the plate. Steve wasn’t that far behind and eventually, his lips kissing down the column of my neck had me whimpering. 

My legs squeezed together involuntarily. The two of them caught on quickly to the way they were starting to make me feel and quickly removed us from the table. Eddie stood up first, pulling me along with him. His hands were all over the skin of my arms which was exposed by my dress. 

“How you torment me so, little human. You could bring a god to his knees.” His lips attached themselves to mine. A moan caught in my throat as he kissed me so sinfully. 

Steve, practically crawled up my body, worshiping every curve and patch of skin. Slowly, he began to unzip the back of the dress, lips kissing my shoulder and down my back as he let the fabric fall, leaving my body bare. 

“Nothing underneath, you dirty little minx.” He smiled, hands filling up the curves of my ass. His hands travel up the length of my body and pull my face away from Eddie, pulling me in for his own kiss. 

I can hear Eddie groan as he takes both my breasts into his hands, squeezing them softly before latching onto the right one with an open mouth. I can't help but gasp out at the overwhelming feeling of both of them. 

“Want to ruin you, Pretty Girl.” Mumbles Eddie around my nipple. His fingers play with the left one for a while, pinching and pulling at it before his mouth and hand switch places. 

“Want to play with you, Darling. Give you something you’ve never experienced.” Steve whispers in my ear. 

I roll my head back onto his shoulder. “What do you want to give me?” I ask in a daze. 

Eddie takes that moment to pop off my nipple, rising to his full height and looking me dangerously in the eye. “The angel and I have talked and we would like for you to take both of us.” 

I look at each of them back and forth, “B-both? But I’ve never…” 

Eddie nods, reaching his hand up to cup my cheek, thumb rubbing over the skin soothingly. “We know. But with a slow pace and a bit of magic, I have no doubt you will be able to do it.” 

“He’s right, love. You can do it.” Steve is brushing the stray hairs away from my shoulder as he peppers kisses there. 

I gulp but ultimately I am not afraid. I have taken both of them separately before and in either entrance, the two of them should be no problem together. 

“O-okay.” I nod. “We can try.”

“Good.” They both speak at the same time. 

The next thing I know, Eddie is lifting my right leg up onto his hip. At a snap of his fingers, his clothes were gone. I could feel his hard cock poking into my thigh. 

Looking behind me, Steve too had no clothes on as his palms transverse my skin. Down, down, down he went before finally stopping and groping at the globes of my ass. 

Feeling them on me together was a new sort of high. My heart pounded in my chest as adrenaline poured through me. Each soft touch and firm grasp had my head spinning around and around. It was hard to focus on just one of them, so I closed my eyes trying to slow the spinning down. 

“You ready baby?” One of them asked. At this point, even their voices had melded together. 

I nodded my head anyway, ready for whatever they would throw at me. My body jostled a bit and then I felt the hard head of a cock being pressed along my slit. ‘Eddie,’ I thought, whimpering. He toyed his cock through my wetness, making sure to place pressure on my clit. 

Both Eddie and Steve laugh as my hips buck into him, searching for more. Eventually, he pushed his head into my entrance. He let out a loud guttural groan, filling the room, as I stretched around him. He felt amazing. 

“Fuck, yes.” I gasped, fingers gripping Eddies toned biceps, nails digging crescents into the skin. 

“Does demon cock feel good in your tight pussy, Darling?” Steve asks as he leans into my ear, licking up the shell. “Imagin how good it will be when I take your ass.” 

“Please, Stevie. Need you too.” My head lulls back onto his shoulder. 

“Patience baby, need to warm you up first. S’gonna be such a big stretch.” 

“I can take it,” I whine frantically, in need of as much pleasure as they could give me. 

Steve only hums. His hands massage my skin before a steady finger begins to circle the puckered hole. All the while, Eddie is slowly pumping into me at a torturing pace, he might as well have been standing still with how slow it was. 

“Take her other leg will you?” Steve asks over my head and Eddie obliges, taking my other leg my the thing and sliding it up. He was holding me now, cock hitting deeper as it seared into me.

My ass was spread wider and steve’s finger entered me. I arched my back, pushing against Eddie, at the intrusion. “Feels so good, Stevie.” I moan. 

And this is where magic entered. Normally it would take more than a few fluid pumps for his finger to stretch me out but as he started to push a second finger in, scissoring the two inside me, I knew something was aiding in the process. I didn’t mind though, as it felt amazing and had both my cunt and ass clenching in need. I worried my lip between my teeth and moaned breathlessly. 

“Look at you, taking my cock and his fingers. You’re such a good girl aren’t you?” Eddie coos. 

I have no words, mouth hanging open taking in sharp, quick breaths. It’s honestly a struggle to nod my head as an answer. 

Steve inserts a third finger and I cry out, clinging tightly to the demon holding me up. “More, more, more,” I mumble. There is a need bubbling up in my stomach and I can't begin to explain how much I need to be filled completely. 

“You heard her angel, she wants more.” Eddie snickers, hips snapping once, twice, into me harshly before going back to a slow pace. 

My back is pressed further into Steve’s chest and I whimper. Our combined body heat had me shaking. “You ready Darling?” He questions, fingers still working. 

I nod, biting my lip hard to keep my noises down but that failed when Steve replaced his fingers with his cock. Slowly but surely he pushed his fat length into me, stretching me around him impossibly far. 

A long drawn-out moan escaped from my lips. “Fuck, Steve.” Tears welled in my eyes as I was spread out and filled with the two biggest cocks I had ever taken. On their own, this would have felt great, but together? Together they touched every spot I needed and then some, making me feel like I had died and gone to heaven. 

Slowly, in tandem, the two men moved. I could feel every vein and ridge on them. It was quickly sending me over the edge. Sweat poured from my body, limbs staring and holes contracting as I was used between them. Eddie had my legs held over his forearms and his hands stretching my ass cheeks out to hold me up but to also clear Steve's way. Steve was holding my upper body up, as I had gone limp in their hold and would have fallen over if it wasn't for his strong arms wrapping around me, one hand cupping my breast and the other moving to lazily swipe at my clit. 

Stars began to appear in my blurry vision once they picked up the pace. They both fucked into me like it would be the last time they would ever do so. Eddie continuously pounded into my g-spot and with the added effort of Steve's fingers, and the fullness of both my ass and cunt, an orgasm was on its way. My whole body went ridged and my toes curled.

“I- I’m gonna. Ah! I’m gonna-” I cried, big blueberry tears of pleasure now falling down my face. 

“That’s it, Pretty girl. Give it all to us.” Eddie dives in pressing his lips to my open mouth, swallowing my moans and gasps. 

Steve hums in my ear, “You’re doing so well. Taking both of us so well. Fuck, you were really made to take both of us.”

I moan in response, fingers digging into the skin of Eddie's arms. Working me through my orgasm. They each began to grunt loudly. The sounds melded together perfectly, creating a musical experience in the room accompanied by the percussion of skin slapping skin. 

Their once fluid motions began to fall off when my holes continued to flutter around them, squeezing tightly. Each thrust became just a little more erratic, the rhythm no longer there. Now, they were each fucking me like they wanted, taking the last of what they needed before letting themselves fill me full. 

I cried out when Eddie’s hips came to a sudden stop deep within me. Soon something hot poured into my cunt and I know he was finished. Steve was close behind, rutting into my ass before letting out a strained gasp, cum shooting out, coating my walls. 

They stood there for a moment, breathing hard, holding me high in their arms. 

"God, you were amazing." They harmonized. I laughed, exhaustion taking over.

My body was pliant as they each pulled out, leaving my holes gapping and then clenching around nothing. An intense shudder rippled through me at the feeling. 

Eddie kept me in his arms and carefully carried me to my bedroom where Steve cleaned me up. I was so tired out that as I closed my eyes my hearing was going in and out. I could barely hear the whispers the two men were sharing. Whining, I reached out to them, and then suddenly I was hit with the warmth of each of them as they climbed in beside me and sandwiched me between them once more. 

"Did such a good job " praised Steve, fingers playing in my hair. 

"The best," Eddie confirmed, lips peppering small kisses up the side of my face. "Get some sleep, sweetheart, you've earned it."

I spoke not a word, only humming in a response to them before snuggling further into Steve's chest and falling asleep.

[hellcheerficdatabase]

Sweeter than Heaven, Hotter than Hell

Author: copperleaves

Rating/Warning: Explicit, DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT

Chapter Count: 7/7

Description: Edmodeus the demon is assigned the task of corrupting the innocent Sister Mary Elizabeth (née Chrissy Cunningham) days before she takes her final vows. He poses as an angel, she falls readily into his arms…and he learns that corruption can go both ways.

Tags: Alternate universe- no vecna, nun!Chrissy, Demon!Eddie, a lot of firsts, when I said wow to other smut, DO I MEAN WOW HERE, smut, filthy filthy smut, the smut is the PLOT, alternating POV, multiple chapters, status: Completed

[begitalarcos]

*One Shot* - Inspired by a post by dreamingoor

Steve goes back for Eddie after Dustin tells him what happend, and finds... not exactly what he’s expecting. After a brief scuffle and a few blows to the head Steve is able to finally subdue Eddie, or whatever it is he’s become, but now what? Chained and locked up tight - Eddie taunts, growls and screams at Steve all whilst attempted to free himself.

Steve comes back each day, playing tape after tape of Eddie’s favorite music from the other side of the door, trying desperately to quell whatever festers inside him.

All the while telling himself, there has to be a way to make this right... there has to be.

[bettyfrommars]

Your post about your dream about demon!eddie reminded me of a dream I also had about demon!eddie. He was basically half human half like, this tall spindly creature and he was banished to live in an old abandoned house. His memory was half gone so depending on when you went he’d either semi remember you and not kill you or you’d be 100% dead. Anyway one night I took my chances and we ended up fucking 😂

oh I'm gonna always take my chances with those odds 🤣

but why did this also make me sad? why is he out there all alone and why is he losing he mind 🥺 It's kind of giving me drifter!eddie but without waitress!reader, and now I have to make sure he has a mate.

Let's both go over and check on him.

[spotsandsocks]

😈😈😈😈

Hello there first of my prompts for make me write and I’ve started demon!eddie au second most popular and maybe I’ll get something finished for Halloween? Maybe… anyway first 12 sentences and we’re off…. (Unedited etc etc so bear with) It’s got working Prince of Flame and Shadows which was a title prompt from someone?! I’ve lost the url! Sorry, if it’s you Tanis lmk please 💜 or it could be @dr-shortsighted-owl or @daffi-990 or @madambeetroot cos I know you sent me title prompts ages ago. Or it could be anyone really!

The hands on his ridiculously ornate over the top clock hits midnight. Eddie sighs and pushes the paperwork on his desk to one side, he hates paperwork. He’s always hated it. He’d like an assistant actually, one with a clipboard and a determined personality. It’s a busy life and getting busier which is depressing if he stops to think about it.

Probably best not to think about it actually. He certainly tries not to anyway. Things are gloomy enough down here as it is.

Eddie leans back in his chair, throne technically, damn uncomfortable either way.

He looks around his office; same four walls, same desk, same terrible souls needing punishment. Round and round, round and round, over and over again. Not much changes around here.

@dangerpronebuddie @eddiebabygirldiaz @jesuisici33 @theplaceyoustillrememberdreaming

Tagging those who also chose this one, these aren’t your sentences but thought you might like to see.

Anyone wants tagging on this wip lmk 💜

[fuctacles]

demon!Eddie - almost there [5/6]

previously on | read on Ao3

It was more than just ‘Steve knows Eddie knows’. Most importantly it was ‘Steve knows and is in no denial about it’. The heavy scent of attraction settled on him like a brand. If Eddie didn’t know any better he would think he was actually manipulating his aura to taunt him. Whenever they shared a room, Eddie was distracted because Steve’s attention was all he could focus on. It was a back-and-forth of mutual awareness and what’s worse, acceptance. Steve came to terms with his attraction towards Eddie in a matter of a day and was wearing it on display for Eddie to see, knowing Eddie can sense it.

Bastard.

No more of the stale divorced-couple scent when Eddie walked on Nancy and Steve talking. No, whenever Eddie entered the room, Steve’s aura perked up like an overeager puppy.

Eddie was still the predator though and had one distinct advantage - while aware of Steve’s position at all times, he could not be sensed back. It took some patience, a lot of observation and hanging around but eventually, he managed to corner him alone. When Steve was leaving the bathroom at one of the movie nights, he pushed him back in.

The door slammed behind them but to his displeasure, Steve didn’t seem surprised. Instead, he looked at Eddie with curious eyes.

“Is it working?”

Eddie narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms, feeling himself lose the upper hand yet again.

“Is what working?”

“Thinking about you.” Steve tapped his temple a couple times. “I don’t know what exactly you can sense but I thought it’s worth… experimenting.”

That picked Eddie’s interest. His eyebrows shot up.

“What were you thinking about?” he asked, a smirk tugging on his lips. It grew wider as Steve’s cheeks flushed and he averted his gaze. “Steve,” he purred encouragingly. “I could smell your horny thoughts from across the room. Tell me.”

Steve leaned on the opposite wall, arms crossed defensively. He licked his lips.

“Your hands.”

“My hands?” repeated Eddie. “Go on,” he prompted when Steve only nodded.

The man huffed, annoyed that he was expected to elaborate. As if Eddie would let him go with such a measly answer.

“On my ass. In my hair. On my throat. In my mouth.” He licked his lips again as if salivating at the thought. A dam broke and his fingernails dug into the soft flesh of his arms. “Your dick,” and his gaze took a fleeting detour below Eddie’s belt loops. “I was wondering- how it looks.”

Eddie cocked his head in amusement.

“You don’t know how a cock looks, Stevie?” he teased, but Steve was shaking his head, face redder by the second.

“Your other dick,” he clarified as if it made any more-

Oh.

It was Eddie’s turn to flush hot. All this time, the filth and attraction coming in waves from Steve were about his demon form. His breath caught in his throat and Steve used this moment of weakness to be bold again, to drive him nuts.

“Is it big? How would it feel against me?” he swallowed, the sound wet and distracting. “How would it taste?”

The shame and exhilaration coming from him were now hitting Eddie both through his extra senses and Steve’s words, perceived tenfold by his delicious presence.

Eddie closed his eyes and let himself make a guttural sound, a purr growing in force until it was a rumble deep in his belly, straining at his bones, at his humanity. He licked his lips and he slipped, tongue swirling beyond a human one. Steve’s eyes followed, transfixed.

“Wanna check it out?”

Steve hesitated.

“Here? Right now?”

Their kids were watching a movie one floor below them.

“You had no problem fantasizing about me with our friends literally next to you,” Eddie reminded him with a teasing smile.

Steve opened and closed his mouth, red and tasting like shame and embarrassment. Delicious. Then he took a couple steps forward but to Eddie’s disappointment, stopped just within an arm’s reach.

“I don’t want any distractions when you show me.”

He could be embarrassed, curious, and horny but in the end, he was King Steve and his flirt bone apparently wasn’t gone yet. A choked sound pushed out of Eddie’s throat.

“Fine,” he spat out. “Let’s finish the movie.”

The movie was done and Steve’s aura settled into Eddie’s bones like a heavy blanket. It felt as if Steve got the attention he wanted and put it on a back burner, mercifully letting Eddie enjoy the company of their friends. It was still there though, like an itch you press on but don’t dare scratch.

Every now and then Eddie would feel a mental punch in the gut and when he looked up, Steve’s eyes would be on him.

Everything else was painfully normal. After a lengthy discussion on the movie they just watched, the younger party members were driven home and the older ones dispersed by default, muttering excuses of morning shifts the next day.

Steve for once didn’t have that excuse and it left him parked in front of Eddie’s trailer, watching Max run up the steps to hers. He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, his thoughts taking a detour as soon as she was safe inside and his cheeks grew hot because Eddie knew, Eddie could feel it, and he was sitting right next to him, not making any move to leave and Steve was suddenly regretting everything he said earlier in the bathroom but he also wasn’t because it made his guts twist unpleasantly and gods he was rewinding it all now and-

Eddie cut off his panic with a loud burst of laughter.

“I won’t bite unless you ask nicely,” he grinned, cocking his head. He turned towards Steve who resolutely didn’t mirror his position and gestured to the trailer ahead. “Wanna come in?”

Steve hesitated, his grip tightening on the wheel until his knuckles turned white.

“Yeah,” he nodded, voice weak, and Eddie chuckled.

He reached out to squeeze his elbow, running his hand up till he reached the tense fingers, caressing them.

“We can just smoke,” he reminded, offered, as an out. He was in no hurry now that he knew it was a possibility, even if Steve smelled like a snack.

The man finally relaxed his grip and looked at Eddie, his eyes roaming and that delicious spark filling the air back again.

“We could,” he agreed, a bravado in his voice pushed solely by the curious arousal, and damn if Eddie didn’t respect that.

The trailer doors shut close, and it would make Steve more at ease if after all these years something as feeble as doors still meant safety. But with Eddie on the same side as him, it was a bit easier. Strength in numbers, first and foremost, and it was hard to forget that Eddie was a 7-foot-tall half-demon. Having a friendly beast like that for protection took a significant weight off Steve’s shoulders.

A semi-familiar heaviness settled in his stomach instead as he watched Eddie’s back retreat towards the metalhead’s bedroom. They skipped the flirting and the wooing and Steve felt out of his depth. There was none of the required dance of attraction between them beforehand. But they were also two guys who faced the apocalypse with a bunch of friends. What even was normal at this point?

Steve stood in the doorframe, waiting to be led into this new ritual. He took a look around the room - small, but with so much more personality than Steve’s bedroom ever had. There were posters on the walls; cassettes and books on every surface. The guitar, dice on the desk, a dragon figure on the shelf. Everything so different and yet so normal

Eddie motioned him to the sloppily made mattress. The sheets were in a red plaid pattern.

“Make yourself cozy,” he offered, rummaging through his stuff until he emerged victorious with a joint and a lighter. He joined Steve on the bed, crowding into his space with no preamble. He snickered at Steve’s slightly panicked gaze.

“Wanna sit on my lap?”  He teased but with a little hesitance, Steve nodded.

The fallen king kept surprising him.

He made himself comfortable against the pillows as Steve hovered above him, unsure how to slot their bodies together so Eddie helped him, spreading his thighs to slide on top of his own and looping his legs loosely around himself.

“There you go,” he murmured encouragingly, lighting the joint. He offered it to Steve’s lips who obediently wrapped them around it, brushing against Eddie’s fingers as he inhaled. He watched Eddie take it back to his own lips and take a drag himself, not breaking eye contact. When his eyes dropped to Steve’s lips he parted them expecting the joint again but instead he took another drag and pulled Steve down by the chin to shotgun.

Again, there was no playing around, no teasing, or tentativeness. Their lips brushed against each other, making Steve almost choke on the smoke, startled by the sudden shift. He leaned in, sucking gently on the retracing bottom lip and he felt Eddie’s mouth stretch in a smile. He pressed back, peppering light kisses on Steve’s searing mouth before leaning out of reach and placing the joint in them instead.

“This shit is expensive Stevie, let’s finish it first,” he reprimanded light-naturedly and Steve groaned in annoyance, taking a long exaggerated drag. Eddie laughed. He made to pull away but Steve snatched the joint away, inhaling deeply before leaning down for another smoke-infused kiss. The tip of his tongue brushed Eddie’s lips and in retaliation he let loose his own, tracing his mouth.

Steve pulled away sputtering, face red. Eddie laughed, snatching the joint back.

“Thought you were into it, big boy?” he teased despite his own worries. He never openly showed off to anyone. Not unless they could blame what they saw on the drugs.

Instead of answering, Steve’s hands flew to Eddie’s hair massaging gently his scalp, rubbing at his temples where he knew the horns would protrude from. The jock thumbed at the bumps under the skin, the facade instinctively crumbling in the familiar and safe space of Eddie’s room. He let them out, the jagged edges catching on Steve’s fingers

The man watched in morbid fascination as the skin stretched and thinned out, accommodating the fleshy yet hard surface of the horns. He touched, feathery light, the rippling amalgamation of skin, muscle, and bone. His fingers circled one of the horns, his eyes watching Eddie for any sign to stop. Eddie watched him back.

“Can you feel it?”

Eddie shrugged.

“Like any other part of the body. They are itchy for like a minute after they grow out.”

“Want me to scratch it?”

“Go ahead.”

So Steve did, rubbing his palms against the ragged surface, up and down. Eddie breathed softly beneath him and Steve had a momentary picture of himself doing a similar motion but with his hand down the man’s jeans.

“It feels nice,” Eddie informed him and when Steve looked down his breath hitched because, with a blink, Eddie’s irises were gone, his blown-out pupils taking the sole residence in the eye socket.

Another blink and the eyes were back to normal.

“Sorry,” Eddie winced.

“No no no no no,” Steve protested frantically, his hands cupping Eddie’s face, thumbs pressing just below his eyes, on the soft tissue of his cheeks. “Just shift, you’re not gonna scare me. Please, Eddie,” he added at the hesitance in the other’s eyes.

The metalhead sighed, a whistling sound followed by a couple deep breaths before his skin began to ripple under Steve, stretching and changing shape to accommodate the new form.

Steve bit his lip not to make a sound as his legs spread further on now bigger thighs, as the lips under his fingers distorted, making room for canines. Black eyes blinked at him again, now from above, towering over Steve.

Eddie just looked, waiting. Expecting Steve to slide off, turn away, to leave. Scream, even. Or even worse, look at him in disgust, lose interest in Eddie.

But no, all he could sense was the thrill of arousal.

Without a word, Steve took one of his hands in his to trace the long fingers and press the pad of his thumb into the claws. He tried lacing their fingers together but the size difference was too big to do it comfortably. Eddie felt a pang of regret, but Steve only pressed his thumbs against the calloused pads of his palm, murmuring with awe a quiet:

“So big…”

before placing the hand at his waist, which Eddie obediently wrapped around. His fingers easily splayed across his back, his thumb pressing deliciously below the hip bone. Steve sighed, grabbing impatiently at his other hand. Taking the clue, Eddie grabbed his other side, encircling his waist completely.

A shudder ran down Steve’s body and he slumped forward into Eddie’s space.

“Holy shit, Harrington,” Eddie flexed his fingers, mesmerized by the reaction. Even his low, gravelly voice seemed to be doing it for Steve. He splayed his hands on Eddie’s bony chest to feel it reverberate through his body. “And I thought I was the freak,” he chuckled.

“Shut up,” Steve bristled with no heat behind it, too busy pressing his face into Eddie’s stretched t-shirt, absorbing the rumble of his voice. “You’re warm,” he observed, his cheek smashed against him as his hands roamed the vast expanse of Eddie’s demon form. “Demofreaks are cold.”

“I really hope that’s a plus.”

“I really hope you don’t think I secretly wanna bone the Demogorgon.”

There was a punched-out sound that shook Steve’s body and it took him a while to recognize it as a barked-out laugh.

“Well, now that you mention it…”

Steve, with huge restraint, pushed away to look at Eddie. At his blackened-out pupils, his shit-eating grin the same despite the sharp teeth showing through.

“Don’t be gross,” Steve scoffed, his face twisting and it reassured Eddie further that he was separated from the real monsters in Steve’s mind. Well, this and-

He nosed just below the boy’s jaw, inhaling the scent of arousal, attraction, the guilt of wanting.

“I know, baby,” he purred, his voice vibrating through their bodies. “You wanted to bone me pretty much from the start, from the day I almost stabbed you through the throat.”

“I didn’t,” Steve scoffed indignantly, not an ounce of truth in his voice. He moved his head to bare his neck for Eddie to sniff and rub against.

“Did you like being at my mercy? Pressed against a wall?” Eddie pressed on, his hot breath ghosting against Steve’s collarbone.

“Yeah,” Steve admitted after a bit of silence. Eddie hummed against his skin, content to hear the truth. He licked a stripe up the column of his throat. Steve whined.

“Does that do it for you? That I’m bigger, stronger than you? Could snap you in half if you asked nicely?”

“Yes,” Steve admitted, this time without hesitance. A thrill went down Eddie’s spine.

“Then ask.”

Steve stiffened at Eddie’s commanding tone. The half-demon leaned away so Steve could stare at him with his glazed-over eyes. He licked his lips, thinking.

“Pick me up,” he asked first, hands flying to clutch at his shoulders.

Eddie did as he was asked, effortlessly hoisting him up and off the bed. Steve wrapped his legs around him tighter, breath catching as his dick pressed against Eddie’s belly. Eddie growled, adjusting his grip to slip one hand on Steve’s ass.

“Wall,” he murmured, crawling up Eddie’s body to reach his mouth.

There wasn’t much space in the trailer for the 7 feet monster that was Eddie Munson but they made do. Eddie pressed him against the wall of his bedroom, displaying Steve Harrington, former king of high school among his metal bands posters. He leaned down, pressing wet, uncoordinated kisses to his mouth. Meanwhile, Steve’s strong legs twitched against him, pressing him closer, fingers clawing at him, demanding to cave him in, crowd him against the wall until he was smashed between it and Eddie’s huge searing body. The man moaned, his hips jerking against him in the nonexistent space.

Kissing Eddie’s stretched mouth and huge teeth was hard. It was mostly panting and licking against each other, Steve greedily exploring each corner and every sharp point of his teeth. When he started sucking on Eddie’s tongue a tremor went through his body, pressing impossibly harder into the man, until his body started to protest.

Steve emerged for a desperate breath, the pain in his muscles making him lucid for a second. Eddie leaned back sensing his discomfort but Steve kept him close, fingernails digging into his shoulders.

“Put me on the desk?”

Eddie would be ashamed of himself for following orders, from Steve Harrington no less, if only the man in his arms didn’t look so pretty and lustful.

“Undress me,” Steve ordered when his ass was sat on Eddie’s desk and he raised his arms obediently, looking up at him with a level of submissive trust that should be illegal. Eddie must have died that day with the demobats and was now in the place in hell where succubi resided. There was no other way this was real.

He pulled Steve’s t-shirt up over his head and arms. Then to Steve’s absolute delight manhandled his hips off the desk to get him out of his pants as well. Now only in his underwear, Steve raised his arms in a silent plea to be lifted up again.

His naked skin rubbed deliciously against Eddie, like a cooling ointment for his burning body.

“What now, princess?”

“Drop me.”

“Huh?”

“Drop me on the bed,” Steve clarified, going limp in his hold to make his point.

[apomaro-mellow]

In case you were wondering they're STILL bringing up cereal mascots

[fairyysoup]

the devil i know

chapter five: so is it your place or mine?

(repost)

fic tag | fic playlist | fic masterlist

pairing(s): crossroads demon!eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: Your abusive ex-boyfriend's car being blown up in front of your face does wonders for your inhibitions.

cw: explicit, smut, monsterfucking!!, forked tongue action, oral (f receiving), heavy petting, like one singular pussy spank, things get cut a little short :((, making a deal with a demon, inspired by american and european folklore, sacrilegious themes, horror, witch!reader, reader is 21+ in modern day, eddie is immortal, sex pact, marking, possessive behavior, animal death, trauma, reader is ostracized by her very religious hometown, dark comedy, dead dove: do not eat

please check masterlist and individual parts for content warnings before reading. this fic contains dark themes. your media consumption is your own responsibility.

ALL OF MY WORKS ARE 18+ MINORS DNI

The diner closes early. Turns out that a car exploding outside, followed by every kind of law enforcement and crisis management team imaginable swarming the premises is kind of bad for business– who knew?

Andy, apparently, somehow survived. You watch from the dining room of the building as his battered and torched body is loaded into the back of an ambulance. You hear something about third degree burns, how it’s going to be a miracle if he pulls through– you can only imagine what it would have been like to be standing so close to that explosion of heat. Hellfire.

You spend the few remaining hours of your shift giving statements, which only mildly cover the truth. “Andy was my ex. He was abusive. For about a year and a half. He liked to come here for coffee. I don’t know anyone who would have tampered with his car. No, I don’t know anything about cars. I have been working all day. He tried to cut my arm. No, he didn’t succeed, I pushed him away. Eddie is the name of my high school sweetheart. We were a little bit crazy about each other, we decided to get each other’s names branded onto our skin. He got his on his chest. No, I don’t think that’s strange for an eighteen year old to do, we were fucking idiots. I don’t know where he is now. Eddie–” 

Munson.

“–Munson. Sure, I can make some coffee.”

Before you leave, you hear a few whispers about a free pie special on Friday, but you just hang up your apron and bounce before anyone can ask your opinion.

You come home to find a dog on your doorstep.

You see it there before you turn off the car and step out to get a closer look. It raises its head when it sees you, almost as if it’s been waiting here for you. Expecting you. 

It’s a big dog– not as delicate as Lacey, as it feels like all things point back towards your grief these days– but it’s beautiful, regardless. It looks like a Rottweiler, with the most beautiful brown and black colors you’ve ever seen. 

“What are you doing here, baby?” You ask quietly when the dog bounds toward you, jumping up excitedly to scratch at your legs. It barks happily, looking so pleased that you’re home, like it’s known you for ages. 

Still reeling from the events of the afternoon, your limbs are jerky and stiff with nerves. You crouch down to inspect its neck, reaching for its leather collar, ducking around its attempts to lick your face. It’s fruitless; the dog is gonna kiss you no matter what, even if it has to climb over your shaky legs to do it. 

It’s comforting, even though you’re a little too frazzled to admit it.

Your heart plummets into your gut when your fingers latch onto the copper dog tag that hangs from the strap around its neck. The same triangular copper piece that you’d buried as an offering in the woods, a week ago.

“What the fuck,” you whisper. “No, that can’t be– what the fuck–”

But it can be. You know it, like you know that Eddie had been talking to you today, even though none of it makes sense. Things stopped making sense when he showed up in that clearing and lit a cigarette with his thumb.

You turn the dog tag over, but there’s no contact information. You get the feeling that this dog will never get lost, because it will always instinctively know how to find its way back to you. 

Lacey’s name, your beautiful Dachshund that was taken from you too soon, has been completely erased and the beveled copper smoothed over. Now, the same chicken scratch that adorns your wrist has also been inscribed here. 

Dante. 

You give the Rottweiler a bemused side eye. “Dante, huh? Whoever named you sounds like a fucking nerd.”

“I heard that.”

You raise your head to find Eddie standing in your doorway, looking as beautiful as ever. He glows around the edges, a suggestion of an aura about him that tells you his body isn’t merely made of flesh and blood, but still, he’s a little more… human. His eyes aren’t glowing like before– rather, they’re as dark as your apartment behind him, and they twinkle in the sunlight. He’s shed his usual leather jacket, his arms bare for you to see his tattoos. Bats and spiders and a skeleton puppeteer, inked across his skin. 

You hadn’t seen them before. They hadn’t been featured in that fucking dream , or you would have absolutely done something about it. Something involving a lot more tongue and less thought. He smiles wide and deadly and gorgeous, and you feel as though he’s completely aware of your line of thought.

“Dante, you were supposed to bring her inside,” Eddie chastises the dog as he trots through your door, “not stand out there giving her kisses. That’s my job. Chrissake.”

You step into the apartment after the dog, letting the door creak shut. The drive home had been brutal, to say the least. Your memories of the afternoon’s events are so whole and so fresh, as if they’re still alive within you. Your mind returns to the images over and over again; the vision of the car going up in flames, the sharp press of Andy’s blade to your skin. 

Everything within you aches. Magic courses through your veins– you feel it, simmering just below the surface like it’s going to bubble out of your skin. You might burst into flames. You might explode.

“If it helps, I can’t say I saw that coming,” Eddie begins, like he’s still hearing your thoughts. You have a good mind to ask him if he’s constantly hearing them, or if he’s just listening right now.He takes your keys gently from your hand and sets them on the counter, looking you over hesitantly. “At least, not until he drove into the parking lot.”

“So, that was you telling me what to do?” You ask, staring at his shoes. You swallow against an uncomfortably dry feeling in your mouth. “You were talking to me?”

“You called.” He chews on his lip, leaning back against the counter to face you. 

You feel yourself nod. So, he felt everything. He heard everything you were thinking, all the fear and rage and anxiety. You didn’t just make up his voice to calm your own mind.

“I can understand why. Fucking guy– I can only imagine how hard it must have been for you, to deal with that for so long. Nothing– no one should make you feel like that. Not while I’m around.”

You lift your eyes. Eddie’s words seem to pound a nail directly into your beating heart; you feel yourself on the cusp of doing something stupid, something you might regret later. You watch his lips as they move, as you tell yourself, No. Don’t do it.

“You did so well, though,” Eddie reassures you after a moment. “You were fucking amazing, baby, I was so proud. Burned the fuck out of him. Look at you, little witch.”

“Was that–” You take a stuttering breath, searching for the words you want to say. “Did I do that? Did I… did I try to kill him? Did I blow up the car?”

“No, I did.” 

You feel like the air has been sucked from your lungs. You give a few short breaths, as though you’re trying to hide from someone and don’t want the sound of your breathing to give you away.

“I did,” Eddie repeats. “I know you told me not to kill anyone unless you asked, and I’ll be completely fucking honest, I figure it would be better to just finish him off. Maybe– maybe I’ll have some fun torturing him for a lifetime, without killing him. There are a lot of ways to make someone suffer. But sweetheart...” He tuts and shakes his head slowly, “He defaced my mark. He hurt you. There was no way I was gonna let him just walk away after that. Not after hurting my girl.”

Tears stick in your throat, but they aren’t for Andy. You tried to curse him once, and you’d certainly try to do it again. Fuck him.

“Eddie.” You look up into his face, and it holds a level of severity and anger that should scare you, but it doesn’t. Tears pool on your waterline and threaten to spill over, urged by a wave of infatuation and gratitude toward him that you can’t seem to put a cap on. Your logical brain is trying to beat your own animal impulses back with a stick, while the rabid beast in your chest bites it and tries to yank it away. It’s frustrating how easily this demon can make you lose your morals.

“Trust me, he’s not going to get off easy,” Eddie continues, without even noticing the mushy look you’re giving him. “Even after he finally kicks it. Even if I make the rest of his fucking life miserable. Hell is eternal, and I have quite a few dogs who haven’t been fed in a while. They’ll be happy to rip apart Andy’s soul for lunch. It’s only fitting, after what he did to yours–”

“Eddie.”  

You take a running start at him. His eyes go wide and then crinkle at the edges with laughter when you slam directly into his chest, clawing at his shirt to drag him down to your height. 

With one quick move you wrap your arms around his neck and press your lips to his. 

Eddie grunts, his hands fumbling to catch you before you manage to topple the both of you. He reciprocates with frenzy, all clashing teeth and grabbing hands. His mouth is hot as sin and his tongue tastes like smoke and honey, although you weren’t expecting anything else. Maybe you were expecting it to burn you alive, but it wouldn’t matter to you either way.

He pulls back for breath, and chuckles. “Don’t you wanna wine and dine me first–?”

“Hush.”

Maybe it’s a bad idea. Maybe you’re just running on adrenaline and you’re not thinking clearly– the wires in your brain are misfiring, placing desire where it shouldn’t be in order to make up for the grief you should be feeling instead. 

Or… should you? Rather, you feel relieved. And you’d be remiss if you didn’t show Eddie just how much you appreciate his effort.

You manage to land two kisses onto his jaw before he dips his head and catches your lips with his. Something tells you that you’re going to be addicted to him by the end of this. Eddie’s hands find your face and hold you still so that he can kiss you deeply, letting his tongue glide softly over yours in a way that sends chills through your body.

“Demanding little minx, aren’t you?” His thumb traces the line of your throat, lingering there when you curl your fingers into the hair at the back of his neck. 

“You told me to tell you what I want. This is me telling you.” Wavy hair tangles in your grip, and you yank him closer by it. 

You have to quickly reconsider the consequences of your actions, though, when Eddie picks you up and effectively throws you across the counter, toppling a bunch of random clutter onto the floor. 

Eddie’s hand comes up to grab your jaw, holding your head where he wants it as he sucks hard, his teeth grazing your throat in a way that makes you dizzy. You whimper when his lips find a sensitive spot on the side of your neck, sending a shock wave through your body, throwing your legs around his hips to pull him in toward you. Following his lead, letting him bite you until you’re bruised, until the capillaries under your skin burst and spread in the shape of his lips.

“I think you’re an angel,” he whispers, as his hands slip up your skirt and his fingers brush the sensitive skin of your inner thighs. He sounds breathless as he kisses your jaw, just below your ear. “My angel.”

There’s relief in Eddie’s kiss that soothes the rabid thing in your chest trying to figure out what direction to go in. His lips glide over yours soft and then hard, the ebb and flow of waves on the shore. 

This is what you wanted. Contact. His tongue in your mouth, his hands on your body. You’ve been wanting to get your grubby hands on him ever since that fucking dream, and now that you do, you’re losing your mind. 

His fingers press into the skin of your hips, tracing the waistline of your panties. A damp spot grows on the crotch of them, and on any normal day you would be embarrassed. Now you simply grind against the touch, beyond the point of refusing it. 

You bite his bottom lip and suck on it, causing him to moan against you. In your haste, you miss the shudder that rolls down his spine, the way his eyes roll back in his skull a bit.

“I– mmmkay,” Eddie groans deep within his chest when you palm him over his jeans, feeling out his erection against the denim. Big is all the confirmation your clouded mind gets before Eddie's hands circle your wrists and pin them over your head. His eyebrows shoot up sternly as he talks down his nose at you. “Behave.”

“You don’t want me to behave,” you point out, your breath hitching in your chest when he dips down to press a kiss just beside your mouth. You gasp, “You want me to fuck you. That’s what this is, right? That’s… that’s what I want–”

“Oh, sweetheart.” A fire ignites deep within his eyes. It’s beautiful– so close, you can see the embers burning there, flickering with the heat of his gaze. “Took you long enough.”

“Bullshit. Took me– mm…” A soft noise of gratitude escapes you when his hand dips to stroke over the crotch of your panties, “three days.” 

You can’t help the way you cling to him, all but grinding down onto his hand for relief. He hisses through his teeth when his fingers press into the soaked cloth over your core. 

“Yeah, n’ it was too fuckin’ long. You poor thing, having to wait for me like this. M’so sorry…”

Eddie drops to his knees, kisses your knee once before dragging your panties down your thighs. Your hands are covetous, grabbing fistfuls of his hair and gripping onto his shoulder at the feeling of his lips on your skin. You shiver as he parts your legs, his face so close to your sex that he can smell you, sweet and earthy in the air.

He takes a long, deep inhale that makes your face burn, and he grins up at you. “Mmm, actually… no, I’m not.” 

“Fuck–” you hiccup when he hooks your leg over his shoulder. His breath hits you before his tongue parts the swollen lips of your pussy, and the touch is blindingly sweet. “You’re– hhuh– evil.”

He grunts, and takes to you with gentle licks that make your toes curl. Soft flicks and tender strokes that gradually become firmer, deeper. Warmth seeps into your limbs, spreads through your body like the sweetest poison on earth. 

Your breath catches in your throat when the feeling changes– his tongue seems too fucking long, reaching way too much of you all at once. And then there’s a split, a feeling of two appendages separating and tracing around the bead of your clit, moving individually. 

“Hoooly shit– wait wwwait, hang on– fuck!”  

Your breath is coming in hot, short pants that don’t quite reach your lungs as you lurch against him. You peer down to meet his eyes and they’re fucking smoldering, burnt orange and siena glowing as Eddie’s forked tongue flicks softly around your clit, easing up while you collect yourself.

You squirm against him, rolling your hips urgently toward his mouth even while you try to wrap your head around it. “I didn’t– hnnng– I didn’t know you had– had–” 

“Demon,” Eddie hums. He raises his head to give you a sharp, fanged smile. 

The sight makes you freeze, your eyes going wide. “That’s really, really…”

You trail off as his impossibly long, split tongue glides through your folds and teases at your hole. He fucks you slowly with it, eyeing you for your reaction. 

You moan, “Mmm, that’s… so fucking hot, oh my god.”

Eddie chuckles and squeezes fistfuls of your ass, lifting your hips and kneading soft flesh beneath his fingers. His touch is indulgent and selfish, nails digging into your skin and tongue seeking you out deeply enough that it makes your cheeks burn.

A forked tongue. That’s a new one on you, even if it isn’t quite so surprising. You’d never considered that it might be an exciting prospect until you could feel it. 

Your hands slip back through his hair, a soft moan escaping you. So many points of contact at once wreak havoc on your nerves. You can’t think straight, and it’s becoming something of a problem because you feel way too close to your orgasm already. 

But if you fall apart, what’s the harm? He’ll be here to put you back together. Even if it means he’ll just tear you apart again, he can spend eternity doing it. You think you’d let him.

You’ve never been one for the conventional. You like a little kink, a little sharpness and grittiness to go with your pleasure. And no one has gone down on you quite like this– all in, not submissive but simply servicing, like he’s reaching for a piece of your soul with it. 

So, you’re not surprised when the feeling of his fangs scraping your pussy is what sends you hurtling into your orgasm. It's an instant relief to the roaring heat in your body, but it only sort of quells the flame.

He laps at you slowly until he pulls off, leaving you spent, thrown across your kitchen counter. Eddie chuckles while you continue to twitch through the aftershocks. “Oh, you liked that, didn’t you? That’s fucked up, baby.”

He sounds so fucking cheeky. You bonk him on the head with your palm while he snickers. “Don’t act so goddamn proud.”

He smacks your pussy once, a sharp crack that makes you yelp. His fingers come back wet, and he licks them while your cunt throbs and stings. Still desperate for him.

Eddie pulls back to stand, and he watches you for a second, sucking on his teeth a bit. He looks contemplative, a little bit disarming once the fangs and forked tongue disappear. 

He bends over you to kiss your forehead, and gives you an apologetic look. “I have to go.”

“You’re fucking kidding.” Your cunt aches between your legs, pressing together to stave off the feeling. They just hit Eddie’s hips. “Fuck, Eddie, I don’t think I can– don’t leave me like this. Please.”

“It won’t always be like this,” he murmurs soothingly. His eyes are dark now as they peer into yours, round and seemingly innocent. “But I gotta. ‘Devil’s work is never finished,’ and all.”

You scrunch up your expression, attempting to glare but only coming off cutely perturbed, from his perspective. “I hate you.”

“Aww.” He sticks his tongue out at you– it’s a normal, human tongue. You want to bite it. “You’re so convincing at it. I’ll get you, my pretty. And your little dog, too.”

“My… dog?” You blink as he pecks your lips and steps away from you, walking toward your bedroom door.

“Dante,” Eddie tells you, looking around the room. The dog in question is nowhere to be found. “Ah… technically he’s my best one. When he behaves. DANTE?”  

There’s a bark from the direction of the bathroom, and a horrifying splash. Eddie motions at it, shrugging emphatically, as if to say what’re you gonna do? “He’s yours now. He’s got orders to take good care of you.”

You stare incredulously after Eddie as he goes to disappear through your bedroom door. Before he does, he spins back around with a finger extended. 

“He likes wet food, by the way.”