#demon fic

You stared at yourself in the dirty bathroom mirror. The weight on your shoulders hung down over the outfit they’d given you. A leather corset digging into your chest, pushing your tits up until they almost spilled out of the cups. Fishnets went along your legs and up to the leather skirt draping down where you pressed your thighs together. The promise of what was coming sent a shudder through you. But it was your best option.

Quite literally, it was your only option.

Pay off a debt and walk away with $2,000.00. The wicked, sharp-toothed smile of the loan shark was burned into you while he sat on the edge of his desk and looked down at you. A job to work–that’s what he called it. One night. All night was the key. But you’d be helping him out so, naturally, he’d help you out.

When you agreed so reluctantly, he tossed a bag at you and pointed you toward the bathroom to change. A van was waiting outside for you with a few others taking the same deal. The job started the second you walked out of the bathroom; there was no going home and flaking out. Not that he wouldn’t have just tacked that onto your growing debt anyway. He knew how to track you down, after all. 

So, you changed into the skimpy outfit. He’d already alluded to what the job was without directly saying it. Serving some customers exactly how they want. Serving them with yourself, all night, until that debt was paid dirty and in full. The extra $2k…. You needed it. The icing on top of the fucked-up cake.

He’d planned it ahead of time, he must’ve. Everything fit almost perfectly, even the thigh-high black boots that matched the stiff leather skirt and corset. Underneath, a red thong was sheer lace, holding nothing back if a gust of wind came for you. But that was the point.

Leaving your dignity in the bathroom, you ventured out. The sneering have fun from the loan shark leaning in his doorway was a shiver of humiliation down your spine. What were you doing? Paying off a debt. You kept repeating it to yourself all the way down the hallway and out to the van waiting. The driver was standing by the open side door, arms crossed, smoking; he eyed you with a once over you figured he’d given everyone else who walked out that door. Another poor soul.

You approached in silence. There were about six others crammed into the benches in the van, all trying not to touch each other when they hardly had anything on. Similar skimpy leather outfits went over them, too. Fishnets and leather galore. 

“Here.”

The driver held out his hand. A single red pill sat in the dead center. A little devil was pressed into the center of it. 

“It’ll make the job…easier.” He took one last drag from his cigarette and flicked it over by the dumpster. “Will help so you don’t remember much of the depravity either, too, if you prefer that.”

So it really was going to be that kind of night, then.

A deep breath gave you a mouthful of Marlboro Lights. But you plucked up the pill and dry swallowed it. It tasted like cinnamon and ash lingering on your tongue. It burned a little in your throat. Still, you climbed in next to another woman, her leg bouncing incessantly. 

The side door shut. The van jostled when the driver climbed in and slammed his door shut.

“Ready?” he asked, glancing back in the rearview mirror.

The collective response was silence. He shrugged and drove off anyway.

The effects of the pill hit just as he pulled up to the front. The drive wasn’t long, but it felt like you were winding down twisting roads the entire time. When the side door opened and the lot of you climbed out, you were staring up at a sleek black building with neon red lights. The winter air was a little kiss to your cheeks, where a heat gradually started to rise. A blur touched the edge of your vision, but didn’t consume. Like a sheer red hue was giving you a big old hug and welcoming you into the flames of something else.

Would make it easier, huh? You swayed on your legs. Not quite tipsy, no, you were conscious as the driver pointed up to two bouncers opening up double front doors. But you felt floaty when you walked up the steps. Through the double front doors and–whoa. Into the front of a busy, blood-red club with fast music playing out of hanging speakers. Tables upon tables were full; drinks were being poured, cards were being played, and a hand at your back shoved you and the rest of you further into the club.

“Ah! The entertainment is here!” a smooth voice cooed from across the room. “We’ll start placing bets soon enough, but how about we give them a proper welcome, hm?”

They’re not human. It clicks as you stumble in another step. Horns, claws, various red skinned demons, they’re all around you. They grin and fawn, eyeing you up like you’re a piece of meat, and you are. That’s what the job was, after all. Serve them.

The flames of hellfire lick at your heels.

Those you were with are yanked to hungry fiends. A warm hand slides up between your legs and pats your cunt from behind, and you spin. The sudden invasive touch sends you staggering backward from the demon leaning against a trashcan by the doors. He waves at you as your heart starts to pound. But there’s nowhere to go; from his hand, you’re in another. Hands come around and squeeze your chest, a hard chest blocking you in. Large, clawed fingers pull at the bow tied at the front, but it doesn’t come undone. He just laughed, shoving you forward. Toward a small crowd amongst the larger.

Someone spanksed you over your skirt. Someone pulled at the bow on your corset. Another groped your chest and laughed. The blurring at the edge in that red, warm hue started to pour in more. Heat was a sudden bubble in your belly, and you tumbled as a hand on your arm yanked you down over a chair.

“Look at this one, boys!” he mused. The edge of the chair pressed into your stomach, and you kicked out at nothing while a heavy weight pinned you down. Not hands. You gasped for oxygen as he sat himself on your back, your arms pulled behind you and stuck underneath him while he straddled you. “Let’s see her now, oh…baby.”

Abruptly, the back of your skirt bunched. Warm hands hold your legs open, their fingers bruising the meat of your inner thighs as you squirm. A rush of adrenaline slammed into you right as the demon atop you laughed again. He brought his hand down onto your ass, nice and hard. Your shout erupted against the chair.

“What a fine piece of ass we’ve got ourselves. Ha. Now…let’s see your pretty holes….” 

Wait–

But all the squirming and thrashing didn’t change anything. It was the job you’d agreed to, and the job you were there to do. And pinned down like that, you’re serving them for a fully paid debt and that extra $2,000.00. The pill the driver gave you sank in all the way, and you felt it like you felt the demon ripping the fishnets open and pulling your thong to the side to expose you to the club.

He–or someone–spread you. Rough hands came with laughter and groans attached. Still, you wiggled, but you were sufficiently pinned when you felt their fingers moving in. It was degrading and dirty; they sneered when they rubbed your cunt and a glob of spit dropped onto your asshole. They spanked you again, and you yelped, trying to get your feet on the floor for support, but someone nudged at your knees, and you’re stuck on them instead.

A finger pressed against your asshole, rubbing and smearing that spit around like it was lube. The finger was big enough, and the stretch sent a flutter toward your stomach. It pressed in despite your clenching, and as you took it to its first knuckle, someone knelt behind you. A long, hot tongue dives into your cunt. It’s thick and strikingly hot–hotter than any tongue ought to be–and it writhes inside of you. Filling and invasive. It strikes a spot it shouldn’t, and you lurched, a loud moan yanked out of your throat.

“Ah, there it is! Look at you, mortal.” The demon on top of you spanked you again. Harder. The finger in your ass pushed in further; pumping in and out of you while the tongue slurped at your cunt. Lapping between your folds and toying with your clit–an interim before it slams back into your cunt to fill you disgustingly. 

Oh. But they kept hitting that spot. And…and one finger became a second already prodding at your ass. You’re not sure it’s even from the same person, let alone the same hand. But there were two fingers stretching your asshole wide; gaping. More came, and when the tongue departed, two fingers slammed into your cunt. Wet, sloppy, and loud. You screamed at the sensations; filling you up, a tongue lapping at your clit. Your thighs quivered and there was another spank. And another. And another.

It was dizzying. Another finger worked itself into your asshole, cheering all around. Shouts and screams echoed out; moans filled the space instead of music. Where the fingers left your cunt, a tongue dove in after them. Another slips under your chair, rubbing at your clit from underneath, and you can see him. His cock straining in his pants just underneath your face. He grinned at you before he touched you, and he grinned at you when he pulled the hood back from your clit and started rubbing tight, rough circles over it.

You’re there. Breaking. Another spank seared into your ass from someone in the gathering crowd. Your pussy clenched, and the demon with his face in your pussy let out a snide little laugh.

“What? Are you gonna cum?” he mused, pulling his tongue out and pistoning three fingers into you.

Yes, was the answer. You couldn’t catch your breath, then. Trapped under the demon. A fourth finger sliding into your clenching asshole, gaping you wide for someone to spit into it with a loud spat. Pleasure burned into the flicker of stretch, of pain, of degradation. The demon beneath you flicked your clit hard, and you lurched. 

Ground. You could breathe again for a moment. The demon atop you lifted up, and a hand on the back of your corset yanked you off the chair. The club spun into a blur of people as you fell onto the sticky floor. Hands pinned your legs open, two demons going back between you to lick at your holes, diving their long, spindly tongue into you with fervor. Two hands rip your corset open, spilling your tits out and leaving you without a shred of fabric to cover your chest. 

A bottle came over you quickly. Dark liquor soaking your tits and stomach. Beady red and black eyes stared down at you as they came in, drinking from you as if you were a glass. Sucking on your skin, lapping up the liquor from your belly button, and groping your chest. Rough fingers pinched your nipples and tweaked them. You started up at the collective suits and fine dresses standing over you. Pouring more drinks over you, onto you, and two fingers stuffing themselves into your mouth to pour a shot down your throat.

There was barely a chance to glimpse around you, but it’s there. The others you came with. A demon found your clit as the others kept licking at your holes, making your back arch up off the floor. There, there, there! Your eyes teared up as pleasure found itself right back at the peak you’d been ripped away from. A shot came right back to your mouth and dumped dry, bitter liquor down your throat again right as you watched one other woman paying off her debt over a table, a cock in each hole while a hand poured liquor down her throat.

“Yeah, that’s it,” a demon breathed, sucking liquor off your tits and nipping at your nipple. Another tweaked one hard enough you shrieked. “Look at these tits. Can’t wait to bet on you. You’re gonna be mine for the rest of the night.”

“Oh, god. Please,” you stammered. Someone’s pulled the hood back on your clit, and you’re there. Your back arched up hard. Hands pinned your legs back and open so more could get a good look at the demons driving their tongues into you. The circles on your clit tightened and roughened, and a hand on your jaw forced your mouth open.

“Oh, baby. God’s not here,” he whispered. “Just us.”

He poured another shot down your throat as you came. Fierce–ripping through you like hellfire. You writhed on the floor, screaming, throat burning from the shot and the pull in your moan. They bit and stuffed and licked, the circle around you beaming with excitement when you erupted. Blindingly, jerking when they kept on you. Drinking off of you. Playing with your clit. Those lapping at your asshole and cunt moving so two more could take their place; fingers drove into your holes while they still spasmed and clenched. Please, it…. It was….

Your back arched again. 

“Alright! It’s betting time!” That low voice cut through the haze of another orgasm. It was there; right at the edge. But hands pulled away from you excitedly. They grabbed at you, hoisted you up. Your cunt dripped down your legs when you got to your feet. The club swayed. The liquor they’d given you was doing its job on your empty stomach, and you felt the hands pawing at your tits–groping, pinching, spanking–while someone pulled you forward. And forward. And forward some more until you were stepping onto a small stage. Onto a chair.

Your hands were pulled behind you and cuffed together or onto something. It was hard to tell when a bright spotlight was on you. A demon cuffed your ankles out to some bolts on the stage, pulling your ass to the very edge of the chair. What…? 

“Submit your bets now for Mortal #9!” A spindly demon dressed in a white tux waved their hand toward you, a mic in the other. Another rolled a cart up next to you that was hard to focus on with everything blurring together. Everything was hot. Fuzzy. Your pussy throbbed and your asshole ached. There was something on the cart. A bowl of lots of somethings. “How many little vibrators can we fit in her pussy? Whomever wins gets to fuck her for the rest of the night! Place your bets now–we start momentarily!”

Mini…vibrators? Adrenaline sparked through you. Your next heavy blink showed those mini vibrators in clear vision. Little red things with silicone cords on the end. All attached to a remote sat next to the bowl. 

You pulled at the cuffs. They couldn’t be serious? But they were. A glint to your right that wasn’t from the spotlight said they were definitely sure. You peered over at the blinking red light on a camera zooming in on you. It skimmed over you, the demon running in coming in closer to lift your skirt up to show the audience. Were there more demons watching elsewhere or was this a keepsake? Something to sell? Your head lolled back when another wave of the liquor and pill combination made your pussy clench. Oh, god, you wanted. 

You looked down at where someone had pinned your skirt back. The announcer said something else you didn’t quite hear, you were just looking down at your wet cunt. Clit swollen yet needy for attention. The pill would make it easier. A moan cracked out of you without anyone touching you. 

“Oh, she’s excited! Let’s get started, then, shall we. We’ll start with one. Now, don’t worry about cumming.” The announcer reached into the bowl and plucked out a mini vibrator. A click on the remote had it roaring to life. Loud and unapologetically. “There’s an extra bet for how many times you cum before you’re too stuffed to take more. Now, let’s see here….”

He knelt down beside you and dragged the vibrator over your clit first. You jolted; the sudden ache for more was painful. Excitement murmured across the crowd. You couldn’t see much when the spotlight was so bright. Just the demon’s hands as he parted your cunt and slowly pushed the harshly vibrating bullet deep into you. It was hardly anything, it was so small, but you could feel the strength of it. 

“Oh. Oh, my….” you cracked out.

He reached into the loudly humming bowl of toys and plucked out a second. Your head fell back as he pushed it in. 

“There you go, that’s twoooo.” The rough pads of his fingers rubbed your clit. “Doesn’t that feel good, mortal?”

You answered with a moan. 

That earned a laugh from the crowd. 

A third vibrator was plucked up. He brushed it over your clit then brought it back, holding it there while you writhed. Thrashed. It was so much. Fuck. It felt so good. Your hips bucked, and he pulled it away before you came. As your pussy spasmed, he stuffed the third one in. The stretch was building, and he pushed his finger in with it, nudged the toys there inside of you.

“Getting full already, huh?” He turned his finger and pressed it up. Against a toy nudging against your g-spot. Stars shot through your vision, but he was already pulling his finger out. “Don’t know how much more this mortal can take. Let’s see if she can fit a fourth!”

Four.

Five.

Your hips jerked up off the chair when he pushed the sixth in, your cunt stuffed to the brim, all of them nudging each other and your clenching walls. You dripped down onto the floor as the eager crowd cheered. There. There. Again! You humped the air; there was no escaping the onslaught of the toys inside of you. You couldn’t pull away or lower the strength. And despite the lack of attention on your clit, you got there. Grinding against nothing, legs trying to close, tears streaming down your face. You cracked out a choked moan as you came around the toys. Gushing. Spraying over your thighs to cheers and shouts and whistles. The camera zoomed in on the mess, the hum of the announcer’s voice carrying over about extra bets for if you were a squirter or not. 

And then he brought a seventh vibrator to you. You thrashed in the chair, the assault of the others wreaking havoc on your sensitive g-spot. It was too much. But they weren’t stopping and he wasn’t reaching for the remote. You wanted to scream; you might’ve been. He pushed the seventh vibrator into you with a smidge of resistance, and went immediately for an eighth.

It didn’t fit.

Drool dribbled down your chin as you choked on every breath that only came halfway. Couldn’t. Your cunt spasmed. Couldn’t!! Your hip jerked into the air. There it was again, another. Rippling through you painfully toward that edge. You couldn’t, it was too much, too much–too much! The announcer pressed down on your hips and held the eighth vibrator to your clit.

Again.

The club blacked out into white-hot, searing pleasure. You came again, squirting over the chair and onto the stage. Viciously–shaking uncontrollably while he rubbed that little vibrator over your clit again and again. Drawing out every drop he could get out of you. 

“Well, there we have it, folks!” 

Click.

You dripped down onto the stage still. The vibrators turned off. Someone else came up and pulled each one out of you one by one.

“Seven total in that pretty pussy. Came twice, and is a squirter. Extra bets won will be given out at the counter, but our lucky winner tonight? The one and our, our patron!”

The crowd blurred. You were uncuffed once you were empty, and someone helped you sit up. The announcer leaned in with a pat on your shoulder that felt only condescending. Beady black eyes looked down at you with a snide smile attached.

“You’ll be with him for the rest of the night, mortal. Behave, he’s got company here.”

A slap to your cheek marked your removal from the stage. He carried on to the next task while another debt-cleared human was brought up after you. Forced on their knees to see how many bulbous vibes they could fit in their ass, and if they licked up your cum, they’d put a few in their cunt to make them cum, too.

You were brought to a VIP section up some steps off to the right. It was still out in the rest of the club, but clearly roped off. Two demons helped you up to who’d won you, and you fell with two hands resting on the table in front of him so you didn’t fall on the floor. He sat back, large in every sense of the word, red eyes looking you over. Two horns poked out of the top of his head and dark salt and pepper hair. A goblet of wine was in one hand that he’d clearly just drank from; he licked what’d spilled away from his mouth, and waved a finger for you to come to him. 

You did. Stumbling, thighs brushing against each other wet and sticky. 

“Pretty thing. Turn around and take your skirt off. Bend over for me.” 

You did. The ache in your tummy was still there despite how your pussy hummed from the lingering sensations of the vibrators. You dropped your skirt, first, wiggling out so it fell past your curves and onto the floor. Then, you slid in front of him, and bent over the table. You’d aimed for your hands, but with the alcohol and the pill and freshly climaxing twice like that on stage…. You fell to your elbows. 

“Pretty thing,” he mused again, and he gave your ass a light spank. “Spread yourself. I’m taking you full.”

Full….

You moaned even before you pressed yourself flat to the table. You reached back and kept yourself spread, staring at the group seated with and near him watching you in silence. Eagerness, but silence. And–oh. A lubed finger pushed into your ass. Bigger than those before, but nothing as full as the four that’d shoved into you at the start. Your back arched when he worked it into you. Deep, deep, and deeper, until a second joined. A third, then, quickly followed. And your hands were trembling when he pulled out and a thick, silicone head pushed past your asshole. Stretching you wide and filling you up swiftly.

The flared base locked it into you.

Oh, fuck–

Click.

It hummed to life with a vibration strong enough to ricochet your moan across the area, and he laughed quietly. 

“Come here, now. Give me your pretty pussy. I have business to finish.”

B-Business…?

You staggered back toward him. Hands found you swiftly, and you weren’t standing anymore. Thick thighs framed you for a second, the head of a fat cock brushed against your cunt, and then you’re brought down. Oh, mother of god. He was huge. Stretching you wider than the vibrators did, nudging up against the vibrator in your asshole, and you…he was going to break you. He was going to ruin you. He–

You fell onto his lap, quivering.

“There we go,” he said, giving your lower stomach a pat. “Now, Ulric, I need you to finish out the ledger before the end of day tomorrow, m’kay?” He looked over at someone at the table. They nodded. “Great. And, Rickie, would you send Gallard over? I owe him a drink.”

His hips rutted up once, and you lazily bounced on his cock. Sweet merciful god. You fell back against his chest, and he reached up, palming your tits. Rolled a nipple like it was something idle to do, and you whined. 

That was how it carried on. He kept his cock nestled inside of you while he handled his business with every other person there. Sometimes thrusting up into you, sometimes just fondling your tits. He rubbed your clit for a little bit while he waited for an answer from someone. Your thighs started to shake and he chuckled, lifting his finger and rutting up into you again. More times in quick succession that time, but you didn’t cum.

He let a few visitors fondle you, too. While he enjoyed his drink, petting your side like you were a pet. The toy in your ass humming loud and hard, wiggling against his thick girth inside your cunt. Strangers’ hands came in and groped softly at your tits. It wasn’t like before–dragging you down with who could get to you to make you scream first. They tweaked a nipple before giving it a light flick, but that was it.

It’s only when he finished his third drink does he finally fuck you. It was still languid thrusts, slowly fucking you while he rubbed your clit. It didn’t take long, though. You were there–had been there the whole fucking time. Lost in a haze of wanting to cum so badly, you didn’t want to believe it. But when that pleasure careened over you, you moaned high-pitched and wantonly, falling forward on his last few thrusts. You squirted around him in a mess quickly added to by him, his hands on your hips to keep you from falling onto the ground, pumping his cum into you in thick, full, burning ropes.

Something inside of you flipped. His cum coating your walls, his fingers working your clit. Your eyes rolled back and you felt so floaty and full; sweaty and hot. You mewled when he pulled you off his cock, and patted your wet cunt.

“Go ahead.”

You’re not sure who he’d said it to–you or the demon unbuckling his belt. But you’re already crawling over to him, your mouth watering and hands itching. The sensations sink so deep into you, you want the patron back inside of you. Fucking you again. Oh, god. You needed it. It was bad–you knew that. The fading voice of reason was only just fading–still there, still reminding you that this was only for the night. 

“Just your hands, pretty thing.” The patron sat back with his phone out. You glanced back to see him holding it up to you. Recording. “Let them paint you all pretty for me.”

It blurred together. Every cock you wound up with in your fists. Some pulled you up onto the table so you could get at them easily while the boss recorded. Everything was wrapped in the heat of hell, dancing around you and burning you with each person you touched. They grunted over you, jerking off into your fists, spilling over you. Again. And again. Over and over. Cum dripping down your tits and onto your stomach. It came over your thighs, hands, and your chin. Fingers worked their way into your cunt and fucked the dildo in your ass into you, marking you arch off the table. 

It was an endless sea of pleasure. It came wave after wave; your back sore from how you arched. Your cunt stuffed full of the boss’ cum, still, even when fingers rubbed your clit and worked into you to make you whine and moan. 

He recorded you still, smiling at you when you smiled at him. Wanting that cock of his back inside of you. Wrong. Your head lolled back as you came again. The red flag waving in the back of your mind faint and dying in wind that wasn’t blowing. Wrong…. You cooed into the camera, wanting his attention again, and he hummed. He traded his phone for you, and pulled you back onto his lap. Cock back inside of you, your hands falling onto his chest.

“The night is ending soon, pretty one,” he hummed, groping at your ass while lifting you up and down on his cock. “Don’t you want to stay?” He fucked into you harder. Oh, god, yes. Yes! “Stay with me. It just takes a little signature. Stay, pretty one. And I will treat you like this every night.” Slower–oh, he fucked you so much slower. “Stay with me.”

Yes. Yes. But your head lolled back. You didn’t need much. You were already there. Yes. Yes. Fuck! You rocked your hips and your clit found him, grinding up against him, still stretched and full…. Oh, fuck, yes.

You came around him, hard, shuddering and crying.

The tears raked down your cheeks, black spots flitting into your vision. He cupped the back of your head when it fell back. His thumb brushed over your mouth, and you moaned. It was hardly anything that pushed you over, but you spasmed, the last of your energy…done.

“Night’s over, Relgan,” echoed in a familiar voice.

You smelled Marlboro Lights. 

A quiet grumbling vibrated in the boss’ chest, and suddenly you were bounced up and into fast and deep. Your whines kicked out of you as he fucked you, pulling you down on his cock when he tensed up and came. Spilled inside of you again. Every drop given to you.

Two hands went under you.

Your skirt was draped over your shoulder.

“C’mon, let’s get you home,” was muttered next to you, and the club faded out.

Everything faded out.

You blinked at your front door. The world was all wobbly, including the key in your hand. Home. Home. You got the key in on the sixth try, and struggled with the lock that only gave when someone else reached up and got it for you. A hand was soft on your back when you staggered in, and the door shut behind you with a soft click. Oh, your couch. Your couch! You fell stomach-first onto it, face buried in a throw pillow, and then…darkness.

Swift, soothing, sweet darkness.

It’d been dark through your window when you’d closed your eyes.

When you woke, a gasping breath waking you on your back, it was bright outside. Really bright. The light of the sun too bright, and you covered your eyes. What…? You blinked. You were sprawled out on your couch in the old jeans you’d pulled on in a quick hurry so you wouldn’t be late meeting the loan shark. Loan shark.

You jolted up–

“Oh, my god.”

Sore. Sore everywhere. Sore along your back, your chest, your bottom, your asshole, your cunt. You were suddenly saying bye to the couch as you fell onto the floor, your body clenching up from all the aches and pains, and that accidental tumble just made it worse. Holy….

Your bag. You knocked into it in your fall, and it was open. A bundle of $20.00 bills fell out. A lot of $20.00 bills. There was a note attached. 

The job. Your stomach lurched. The night was a dark blur. Nothing came forward as you reached for the little note, the handwriting unfamiliar. But you swore you could smell cigarette smoke on it.

Debt’s cleared. Boss has an associate that wants to meet you. 

There was a phone number attached, but….

A tiny red flag waved in the darkness of the memories.

You tore the note to shreds. No. Whatever it was…. You had $2,000.00 to help you get your shit together. Whatever was on that note was bad news. Even if you couldn’t remember it. You weren’t going to risk it.

You forced yourself to your feet and locked the money into the safe under your bed.

Last night was a fluke. A debt paid–however it happened in that blank abyss.

You climbed into the shower to enjoy the scolding hot water that felt so familiar in ways you couldn’t understand. 

“A witch forming marks? What is the meaning of this?” He asks in awe, and his own demonic marks shimmer under the candlelight.

A soft gasp leaves you at the familiar patterns you’ve seen so many times before on your fellow witches. How had you never realized this? The connection between a demons blots and the illness taking control of these witches. Suddenly it was all making sense, the deathly power surges that they couldn’t contain on their own.

“I was hoping you could help me figure that out,” you whisper and his gaze snaps up to meet yours, the hum in your body buzzing harder by the second.

Then it’s weeks that pass in the blink of an eye. You rarely leave your home and refuse to let anyone inside. It’s clear your coven members worry for you but that’s the last thing on your mind. With your days now full of this alluring demon who you can’t get enough of leaves space for little else.

He moves around your home like he owns it, having grown more comfortable there than you ever would’ve expected. The two of you have come to work in tandem, your hand reaching and his is already there waiting as you trade old books, passing each other ingredients without a thought while making potions you’ve never even heard of, and your bodies moving as one as you work.

Every interaction between you is charged with something deeper, something you don’t dare to speak of. Yet it speaks through every brush of your hand against his, how neither of you move away whenever you bump into the other, the smiles and glances you send each other that linger a few beats too long, and that both your marks shimmer in each others vicinity.

And just like the others, as your marks move up your arms and down your body, your power grows stronger. But something about this demon helps calm the magic swelling inside you. His presence soothes the storm, his touch calms the spikes of your emotions. Ones that are starting to happen far too often for comfort.

Leaning against the table you clench your fists as another wave of anger urges you to lash out, to unleash the emotion swirling inside you. Your body shakes with the force of trying to resist but you hold on as long as you can.

Just as fear it’ll overcome you, the demon’s chest molds against your back, his arms curl around you and tug you close. That soothing sensation courses through you and you sigh in relief, melting into his arms like you’ve been doing it your entire life.

“I hate these marks,” you murmur, voice filled with pain.

The demon freezes against you and for a long moment he doesn’t respond. Neither do you. Then a moment later he leans down, nuzzling into the streaks that have bloomed on your neck. His own shimmer and yours respond immediately.

“I don’t. I adore them. You just need to learn how to control them,” he rasps.

His breath on your skin makes that constant buzz return to your body as if calling out for him. Warm arousal bubbles up in your belly and looks in your panties. You know he can sense it all yet he doesn’t rush a thing.

“Your coven’s tapped into a power it wasn’t prepared to handle but you have me now. Let me help you.”

All you can feel anymore is him as his fingers skim across your skin, tilting your chin up just in time to claim your lips in a kiss that’s been a long time coming. A soft moan leaves you, your body turning to face him before he picks up your plush frame with ease and plops you down on top of the table.

Low demonic growls vibrate from his throat as he pushes at your clothes like they’re a nuisance, his lips curl in a sneer as his mouth dances with yours like he’s trying not to just tear them to shreds.

Only when the lack of oxygen pinches at your lungs does he break from the kiss and immediately make his way down your skin. Pressing feverish kisses along every inch of bare skin he exposes.

“Your marks… they’re gorgeous. Just like the rest of you. If only you’d embrace them, embrace me,” he pants against your chest and you gasp as he takes one of your perky buds into his mouth, sucking till they’re swollen, then moving onto the next.

You writhe against the table, small whimpers leaving you as you get hotter and hotter, the mess between your thighs dripping down your legs and onto the table.

As if he can sense just how needy you are he leans back and forces your thick thighs apart, groaning at the slick that gushes out of your weeping pussy.

“You even have them here. How beautiful,” he purrs.

His long clawed fingers slide through your folds, tracing the streaks till you’re crying out and rocking your hips into the movement. You get so lost in the rhythm and the constant stimulation that you don’t notice him replacing his fingers with his cock until he’s sliding in and stretching your sensitive walls to their very limits.

You start to scream only to have them silenced by his mouth as he kisses you again. Your magic pulses in time with your throbbing cunt as he starts thrusting his cock deep inside you, slipping deeper and deeper with each rock of his hips.

Meanwhile he fucks your mouth as hard as he fucks your pussy, swirling his tongue against yours in time with every brutal thrust. You feel his tip smash against your cervix just as his tongue pushes into your throat and suddenly he’s everywhere.

Consuming you from the inside out. For a second you panic, your nails scratching down his back and he hisses, picking up pace and rutting into you even harder. You feel unsteady, body moving in time with his only to realize it’s not your body moving but the magic inside you. As you let him in the overpowering magic settles into your bones like it’s always meant to be there and it increases your pleasure to a point you’ve never known.

The demon grunts as he slams his cock along your walls, molding you to the shape of him. He’s breathless but he’s never felt more alive than he does now and he can’t stop staring at the streaks that resemble his one. Like you’re his, all his now. It makes his cock swell within you.

“Tell me you love your marks as much as I do. I want to hear you,” he growls, ducking his head to worship every inch of marked skin he can reach.

You cry out, the pressure in your belly building, so close to bursting.

“I love my marks,” you whine, trying to sound convincing.

“Louder,” he snarls and nips at your throat.

Every thrust he makes you scream those words till you shatter around his cock, your vision flashing white and your release spraying out of you in a brilliant stream of arousal. Your demon roars as he buries himself to the hilt and sends spurt after spurt of his thick cum to splash against your cervix till you’re coming again for him.

He helps work you through the intense pleasure, rocking into you steadily and holding you close. When the fog starts to clear from your mind a burst of clarity booms and you realize you’ve been going about this all wrong. Trying to be rid of the streaks is impossible. It’s only through accepting them can you manage the power that comes with.

And all along it was your demon helping you to see that. To accept it. Now you think you finally are and if you can convince your coven members to do the same you think everything may just be ok.

You wake up hot.

Your skin is sticky with sweat, your hair is sticking to your forehead. You pull back from Jake just enough to look at him. He's still asleep, but he lets out a quiet sound, and before you can stop him, he's tugging you back to him.

“Jake,” you say softly, placing your hand on his shoulder. He's still hot, too hot. Like your own personal furnace. He hums, unmoving. “You're hot,” you whisper, your hand moving to his forehead, palm lightly caressing his skin.

“Not so bad yourself,” he murmurs, eyes still shut.

You huff a laugh, “You know what I mean,” you say, your hand sliding down to his cheek. He groans, not saying anything further, and you sigh his name again.

He huffs, slow and deliberate, “It's fine.”

“I'm sweaty,” you retort.

His eyes open, blinking a few times as he wakes up completely. He’s wearing the tiniest hint of a frown, and his eyebrows are furrowed together.

“I thought it was supposed to work,” you say softly, brushing his sweat-dampened hair away from his forehead.

“It did,” he says quietly, his hand wandering from your waist, mapping out the places on your body that made your breath stutter.

His hand slides over the swell of your hip, sliding under the hem of your panties, resting there. Your heartbeat quickens, “Then why are you still so… warm?”

He's still possessive, too. That intensity from after the ritual hasn't left. It's lessened, thanks to what the two of you had done, but it's still there.

He tugs you closer to him despite the heat burning between you. His eyes fall shut again, “Waited too long.”

You grow a little frustrated, “Wake your ass up,” you say, a little harsh.

His hand slides to your backside, his fingers teasingly caressing the plush skin. Your breath hitches.

He hums, his fingers digging into the meat of your backside, before he uses his other hand to move you onto your stomach.

“What are you doing?” You ask softly when he moves down just enough to comfortably tease at you.

He grins, “Nothing.”

You cross your arms under your head, resting your cheek against your heated skin. He leans in, kissing your nose sweetly. You lift your chin, and he presses another kiss to your lips.

He slips his hand out of your panties, but before you can complain about it, he's tugging the material down your legs with one hand. His other hand grabs your face, angling your head up to look at him.

“So pretty,” he says softly, almost a whisper.

Your face flushes as his hand grabs your thigh furthest from him, pushing your legs open. You're already wet, you can feel it dripping, and you shiver as you're exposed to the chill of the morning air. It's such a contrast to the heat boiling from Jake.

His fingers slip along your skin, squeezing your inner thighs, your ass, his eyes never leaving yours.

“You're a tease, you know that?” You mutter when his fingers ghost between your thighs before retreating.

He hums, low and rough, “No baby, I'm not.”

You sigh, your hips pushing up slightly when he does it again. “Jake–”

He crudely slips one finger inside of you, a smirk gracing his lips at the heavy breath you let out.

“It worked,” he says slowly, his finger slipping out only to return with another. He doesn't move them, he just tucks them away inside of you, still. “It's just gonna take a few more times.”

“W-why?” You ask, rocking your hips just once.

“We waited,” he explains gently, his free hand pushing your hair away from your face, cradling your head in his palm. “There's a lot of energy left, sweetheart.”

You feel yourself clench around his fingers, your body heating impossibly further at the implication, “Oh,” you breathe, pushing yourself against his hand, and silent plea for more.

He curls his fingers once, before he slips them out of you. You huff a breath, your upper half melting further into the mattress.

He slides a finger up, easing over your southernmost entrance, and your eyes widen, “Jake–”

He shushes you almost immediately, his lips pressing to your forehead, “Just touching you, honey.”

“Not there,” you say, shame burning your face.

“Yes, there,” he says, gentle and soothing. “Everywhere.”

“That's–” you hide your face in your arms, “Dirty.”

His fingers gently tangle into your hair, pulling just enough to reveal your face to him again. He teases his fingers over you once again, and his eyes light up at the expression on your face. “It's okay to like it dirty,” he says, pressing his forehead to yours, “It'll be our little secret,” he whispers.

You whimper lightly when his finger teases, threatening to push through. Your fingers tighten around your arms, but you melt into him regardless.

He slides his finger down, slipping inside of your aching cunt, before he pulls back out, and presses his finger into your tightened hole. You gasp, immediately tensing, and he hums, a quiet sound of admonition, “Relax baby,” he breathes, “You're alright– Trust me, sweet girl.”

Your breathing is heavy, your face is hot from shame and want, “Jake,” it's a whine of his name, weak and pathetic.

“I’ve got you,” he says softly, “Relax for me.”

You bury your face back into your arms, letting out a petulant whine as he pushes his finger all the way in. It feels wrong. You feel dirty, filthy and depraved. And the worst part is that you ficking love it.

“Fuck,” he says. It's to himself, a curse whispered with unbridled lust.

You feel your body relaxing, easing into a puddle of yearning mush. “More,” you breathe, hoping he heard you as you hide your face from him.

He hums, “I dunno, sweetheart,” he says softly, “Not gonna give you too much. Not yet.”

You huff, but you know he's right. Still, he's unmoving and you're so worked up you could probably come from just a brush of his fingers over your clit.

“Then touch me,” you demand, bucking your hips just once. It feels different with his finger where it is, and it makes your jaw tighten.

“Stop hiding from me,” he murmurs, easing his finger out just a little, before pushing back in.

You let out a quiet sound of embarrassment, but you turn your head regardless. You can barely stand the way he's looking at you, and you lean forward, pressing your lips to his.

He quickly takes control of the kiss, firm and unyielding as his hand slips under your body. A broken moan escapes your lips when his fingers press against your clit. You grab his shoulder, hiding your face in his chest as he starts rubbing over you.

His finger eases in and out of you slowly, gently, while he expertly handles your aching bud with his other hand.

“Fuck Jake,” you whisper, your fingers grabbing his hair.

“I know,” he says, almost condescending, “It feels so good, doesn't it, baby?”

You nod rapidly, “Yes,” you say, voice broken. He hums, his fingers speeding up as they deftly work at you. You whisper your next word quietly, a plea you're almost too ashamed to say out loud, “Harder.”

He lets out a quiet sound, almost disbelieving, before he begins moving his finger inside of you quicker, harder.

You're close, you know he knows. His hand meets your skin with a subdued smacking sound, the noise of his skin hitting yours with force. It drives you crazy.

“Come on,” he encourages.

You feel your thighs shaking, your entire body tightening as you draw closer to your orgasm. You send him a wordless message, throwing it out from your mind to his, Talk to me.

He huffs a quiet laugh, “Yeah?” He nips at your earlobe, “You want me to talk to you, baby?”

You nod, breathing a quiet yes.

“Flithy little girl, aren't you?” He murmurs, “Asking me to say dirty things to you while my finger's in your ass,” he clicks his tongue, “Fucking depraved.”

“I am not,” you argue weakly, pretending it didn't bring you that much closer to your end.

“You are,” he retorts, “You're fucking squeezing around me, dripping from that pretty cunt while she's not even being touched properly.”

You tighten further, your fingers digging harder into his hair, “Jake.”

“Oh,” he breathes, “Pretty girl's about to come with a finger in her ass, isn't she?” You nod despite yourself, and he lets out an almost desperate sound. His lips attach to your skin, wherever is closest, your arm, your shoulder, “I'm gonna fuck this pretty little ass of yours one day, baby.”

You hate that that's what does it. Your orgasm crashes into you, hitting you hard as you sob out his name.

“That's it,” he says with a smug laugh. His fingers rub tight circles over your clit, and his other hand is practically slamming into you, quick and hard as he works you through it. You sink into him, into this mattress, as your eyes roll back. “Fuck, that's it,” he grits, “Good fuckin’ girl,” he praises you, his lips kissing over your skin as you come down from your high.

You can only manage a broken hum, melting completely as he slips his hands away from you. He pulls away, tugging his own underwear off, before moving to his knees behind you, settling over the top of you. You move to push yourself up on your elbows after he tugs your shirt off. He lets out a quiet hmm-mm, his hand on your back pushing you back against the mattress.

You lay your head down, pressing by your cheek against the cool sheet beneath you. His thighs are firm, holding your lower half in place as he grabs your ass with both hands. He hums, quiet, before his palm collides with your skin, hard and warm. The smack echoes through the room, muting the gasp you let out.

Your hands instinctively go to your backside, a feeble attempt to cover your skin. He gently grabs your hands, leaning over you as he places them above your head, pressing them into the mattress. “Keep ‘em here,” he warns low in your ear, his fingers slowly skating back down your arms. “Don't. Move.”

Your breathing is labored, your entire body is thrumming, aching with need. He leaves a solid smack to your other cheek, before he grabs the plush skin, kneading it in his hands.

He's… intense.

You know he's still got all of that energy inside of him, burning at him and eating him up. It's obvious in the way he's touching you, playing with you. Like you're the only thing in the world that matters, like touching and fucking you is his only priority.

You don't dislike that at all.

He uses his grip on you to spread you apart, leaving you open and exposed to his eyes. You don't dare speak, you haven't got the nerve at the moment, but you're so desperate to feel him inside of you that it almost hurts.

Before you can get up the nerve to tell him to fuck you, you feel the head of him nudging against you. Your eyes fall shut in contentment, your hands tangling into the bedsheets, still obediently where he placed them.

He leans over you, grabbing the pillow beside your head, before his other hand grabs your waist, yanking your backside up against him as he shoves the pillow under you.

It's lifted your hips, angling your lower half perfectly for him. The soft cushiony head of his cock slips along your soaked heat, dragging back and forth. He ghosts it up, pressing just barely at your lower entrance. Your eyes widen, your entire body tightening in anticipation, and you burn as you realize you want it.

He hums a soft laugh, before he moves back down to your soaked core. Your eyes fall shut the second he pushes into your aching heat, melting beneath him as he settles in to the base.

You take a deep breath through your nose, unaware you were missing this as much as you were. It'd been less than a day. The thought made you feel desperate.

He groans quietly, his hold on your hip tight enough to leave bruises. The position has him pressing against your walls just right, nudging that spungy bump inside of you that makes you shiver and see stars.

He leans over you, placing a hand beside your head, “Does it feel good for you, baby?” He asks sweetly, pressing a chaste kiss to your hair. You nod, humming a soft mm-hmm. In a move you hope he'll let you get away with, you slide your hand down, grabbing his hand in yours.

He huffs a laugh, tangling your fingers together, before he eases your hand back where he placed it, “Told you not to fucking move,” he says quietly, voice firm.

You huff, annoyed and incredibly turned on. You tangle your fingers back into the sheets, purposely clenching around him. He draws his hips back, and before you can mentally prepare for it, he slams back inside of you.

Your mouth falls open around a moan, your fingers tightening as he begins fucking into you. The sound of his skin hitting yours is loud, making your head spin and your thighs tremble.

His fingers wrap around your throat, pulling you up away from the mattress. You're suspended in the air, held up only by his hand squeezing your throat, your lower half being held down by his thighs as he fucks you.

His hand slides down as he yanks you up, until you're resting on your forearms, and he grabs at your breasts. You can't stop the noises falling out of your mouth, broken cries and despondent moans. You aren't expecting it when his hand connects with your breast, a sudden slap that sends a delicious sting racing through you. You let out a loud sob at that, pressing your hips higher up.

“Dirty fuckin’ thing,” he grits out, repeating the action, just a tad harder, on your other breast, “You like that?” His tone is teasing, edging you along.

You nod, quite frankly not caring about the shame you thought you should feel.

He hums, tweaking your nipple between his fingers. He moves his hand to your hair, his mouth at your ear, “You get so fucking tight when it hurts a little,” he whispers, tugging just enough for you know what he means. You feel yourself clench around him as he pulls your hair.

You whine and he huffs a laugh, shoving your face back into the mattress beneath you. Your hands grab into the sheets again, gripping onto them like a lifeline as he holds you in place. He straightens up as he moves both hands to your hips, sliding them down to your backside. Your face reddens when you feel him spreading you open again, feeling just a tad too exposed as he watches himself fuck into you.

You breathe his name, your eyes rolling back when his hand snakes around to your front. He slips his hand between you and the pillow, and rubs tight, unforgiving circles over your clit.

Your hand jerks down, grabbing his wrist in attempts to slow his fingers. His other hand hits your ass with a solid smack, the sound echoing throughout the room. You cry out, and he grabs your hand, holding it at the small of your back. “What'd I tell you?” He asks calmly.

“Jake–”

His hand disappears from your clit, leaving another sound impact into the burning skin of your backside, “What'd I fucking tell you, Y/n?” He repeats, his voice firmer as he grabs the heated skin mercilessly.

“To keep my hands up,” you sob, voice wrecked.

He hums a soft agreement, “You'd be a lot better off if you learned to listen.”

Fuck you.

You don't mean to send it hurling at him, your brain throwing the taunt at him before you could stop it. He slows to a teasing pace, leaning back over you as he rocks into you in an achingly torturous drag. “Fuck me, huh?” He says, lips turned up in a smile against your ear.

“You're mean,” you breathe, in defense of yourself.

“Why?” He asks teasingly, one hand snaking around to your throat again, “You can't handle it?”

“I can,” you grit out, leaning back into him when his fingers tighten around your skin.

“Then fucking take it,” he says through clenched teeth.

He's fucking into you fast and hard again, the head dragging just right against your walls. You're pressed tightly against the mattress and his body, and the pillow is rubbing teasingly against your clit.

“Touch me,” you whisper, “Please, Jake–”

“Oh now she wants it,” he says, smugly. “No.” He grabs the pillow, somehow pressing it just right against your clit, “Grind that pretty little clit right there, baby– You don't get my fingers again.”

You let out a broken sob, despondent and pathetic, but you rock your hips against the pillow regardless. His own hips slamming into your backside helps the pillow rub against you just right, and you're so close your eyes are watering.

“Jake,” your thighs shake, but it's just not enough. You need his touch, “I want you to make me come– please baby.”

You feel his hips stutter, and his hold on you tightens imperceptibly. He growls low in his throat, “You play so fucking dirty,” he murmurs, his hand shoving at the pillow to replace it with his fingertips.

“Oh, fuck–” You gasp when his fingers, relentless, rub quick firm circles over you. “I'm gonna–” It hits you before you can even finish warning him. Hard and heavy, wrecking through you so intense, you cover your mouth with your hand.

He manages to tear it away, letting your sobs and moans fall out freely. “Let me hear you, sweet girl,” he says, his hips moving to a slow, grinding pace, somehow intensifying your orgasm. “Let it out baby, come as loud and as hard as you need to– Fuck, that's a good girl.”

Your body shudders with the aftershocks, his filthy rambling heating your insides despite your exhaustion. He slows to a stop, his hands soothing over your skin as you fight to steady your breathing, “Give it to me,” you whisper, rocking your hips against him, “Inside.”

He huffs a single breath, his hips fucking into you only a few more times before stuttering. He comes with a low groan, his grip on you tighter than it's been the whole night. You reach up, a shaky hand to his face, though the angle is awkward for you, and he presses his cheek into your palm as he recovers.

He eases out of you with a quick breath sucked in between his teeth. Your body feels like jell-o, weak and shaky as he turns you over, his mouth immediately attaching to yours.

“You okay?” He asks in between kisses. You nod with a soft mm-hmm into his mouth, and he pulls back just enough to study you, “Was it too much?”

“No,” you whisper, “That was…” You take a steadying breath, “Perfect.”

He smiles at you, “Let's get you cleaned up,” he says, helping you sit up, “We've got a long day ahead of us.”

“We do?” You frown, wondering just what exactly you had to do.

He grins, “Still got a lot of energy left, baby.”

You huff a laugh, “You're killing me, Jake.”

His eyes scanned the group, eventually landing on you in the middle of your friends. Your costume wasn’t much, just a thin white nighty with some cheap Angel wings fixed on your back. The human interpretation of Angels was laughable, given the true nature of such creatures. Always decked out in all white, implying purity and piety, soft feathery wings that rivaled a dove’s. It made the Demon roll his eyes. Out of his brothers, he had had the “pleasure” of interacting with such beings the most over the years. If only humans knew that the creatures they perceived as “nurturing” and “protective” didn’t actually care about them as people but as cogs in the machine known as “The Greater Good.”

Angels were geniuses at marketing. 

However, the sight of you with your Party City set of wings was endearing to Jake. He wished he hadn’t had such a sordid history with Angels so that he could appreciate the aesthetic fully, but he couldn’t help that. But the way your hair fell over your shoulders, bare except for the thin spaghetti strap of your “dress”, and the way the candles lit your face from where you sat, had the Demon’s interest peaked. He pushed himself off the wall he had been leaning against and took a few silent steps forward, curious as to what you and your friends were huddled around on the coffee table. 

He almost let out a chuckle when he saw what had the group in such a heated debate: a ouija board. 

“If you even think about using that thing I’m going to leave,” your friend Claire hissed from her spot on the couch while she sipped whatever beverage she had concocted in your kitchen. 

“Bitch please, you are not, it’s a kids game for fucks sake,” your other friend Nora rolled her eyes from the other side of the coffee table while she examined the lid of the box. 

“They just creep me out. Haven’t you heard about them opening doors to things if you’re not careful?” 

“I highly doubt a mass produced piece of cardboard that's sold around the world is a true door to Hell, Claire,” Nora reasoned. 

Claire bristled, “Well you guys can have fun with it, I’m not participating.” 

They were both right in different ways. Inherently the “game” didn’t do much in terms of anything spiritual, but humans had a habit of knocking on doors they aren’t supposed to, and Demons never resisted fucking with them in return. Unfortunately for these girls, a Demon was already in the room with them, and the corners of his mouth were twitching at the thought of giving them a good scare during their party. 

Finally, your wine-induced opinion was heard, “I mean why not? Its October after all. What’s the worst that could happen?”

Very Angelic of you. 

Jake immediately loved the sound of your voice, and sat down in the empty spot across from you and next to Nora. 

His presence didn’t go fully unnoticed, with Nora rubbing her arms through the cheap fabric of her Witches costume, which consisted of a short black dress and a stereotypical pointed hat on her head. 

“Is anyone else cold?” 

She was met with everyone shaking their heads at her. 

“Weird.” 

Jake could feel the anxiety in the room start to build, and he knew it was only going to get better. 

You set your wine glass down on the end table and joined Nora in placing your fingertips on the planchette. The two of you took turns asking random questions, and it was clear to Jake that Nora was trying to move the planchette herself for shits and giggles. 

But now, it was Jake’s turn to start answering. 

“Is there anyone with us, right now?” Nora dramatically asked with her eyes closed. The Demon to her left took the opportunity to nudge the planchette over the “YES” portion of the board. 

“Oh we’re not alone,” you joked and laughed with the girls. 

You had no idea, Jake thought. 

“Are you a ghost, then?” You asked into the air. 

Amused, Jake guided the planchette to the “NO”. 

At that, he saw your fingertips twitch on the plastic surface, and he heard your heart quicken in your chest. 

“I fucking told you to not mess with-” Claire started to protest. 

“If you’re not a ghost, then what are you?” 

Now the fun would really begin. 

Jake slowly moved the planchette around the board, spelling out,

“N-O-T-A-G-H-O-S-T”. 

Nora looked down at the board, “we know that,” she said defiantly. 

“Nora,” you lightly scolded, “don’t be rude to the spirit!”

Nora shrugged, not phased, “Oh spirit of olde, where are you from?”

Jake smirked, 

“H-E-L-L”

Your hands paused as the second L was magnified under the planchette, and looked up at Nora. 

“Oh of course the big bad spirit is from Hell,” your friend was openly mocking whoever it was you were speaking to. 

“Is Hell fun?”

You title your head and narrowed your eyes, “it's Hell, Nora.” 

“What? Maybe it's fun for them?” 

Jake silently nudged your hands to the YES. The mounting anxiety that was oozing off of Claire and the other girls was delicious. 

“Come on, Nora you’re just moving it yourself,” one of your other friends voiced from her spot on the couch next to Claire, unimpressed.

“I am not!” she hissed. The accusation appeared to have shifted her mood and she put her hands in her lap, “whatever, I’m bored and I need a refill.”

She got up in a huff and exited into your tiny kitchen. The rest of the girls followed after her, needing refills themselves. That left you all alone with your fingers still resting on the planchette. 

Softly, you murmured, “sorry about her…she can be a lot.” You had no idea if you were even speaking to anyone, and felt a little dumb, but it was Spooky Season, and you needed some whimsy in your life. 

Jake however, was utterly entranced by you across the coffee table. He sat there, eyes traveling around your face and down your body. The flickering light from the candles lit your features in such a delicate way. He watched as you blushed in embarrassment. You shook your head at yourself, mumbling about how stupid that was to say. You reached for your wine glass and gulped down the little you still had. He studied the way your fingers held the stem of the glass, how your lips fit against the rim, how your eyes fluttered shut as the wine hit your tongue, and how your throat bobbed slightly as you swallowed. 

If you could have seen the Demon in front of you, you would have seen how his soft eyes followed your every movement. You would have seen the dark brown irises he always chose when he wanted to look more human, eyelids heavy and dark circles underneath. He couldn’t look away. 

There wasn’t any fear in the room now, only curiosity from Jake himself. 

But you couldn’t see him. You didn’t know he was truly there. In your eyes, you were tipsy and had just played a slumber party game with your friends. You weren’t talking to a Spirit of any kind, it was just Nora fucking with everyone as she always did. You rolled your eyes at yourself and got up off the floor. In silence you put the ouija board back in the box along with the planchette, ready to move on to other activities you had planned. 

In your buzzed state, you forgot one of the rules to using a Ouija board, which was to always say goodbye to whomever you were speaking to. It was a formality to close any ‘doors’. You hadn’t done that. You simply scooped up your glass and headed into the kitchen to join your friends. That left the Demon alone in your living room. 

Jake contemplated staying around, just to see how the night went, but his ears started ringing, and he could tell his talents were needed elsewhere. It was better for his best interest to head out anyway. The Demon sighed and rose off the floor, giving one last glance through the archway into your kitchen. You and your guests had moved on to tequila shots and arguing over what movie you were going to watch next. Tequila after wine? He knew your human body would be regretting that in the morning. 

He smiled at you one last time before disappearing from your apartment, off to see one of his regulars who had a penchant for Benadryl. 

~!~

In one the many gardens of Hell, the young Demon found himself wandering down a path lined with thick and tangled rose bushes. The petals ranged from bright red to deep purple, all twisting and growing together in ways they couldn’t naturally on earth. He wasn’t in the gardens much, but it was his twin’s turn to pick the meeting place, and this was one of Josh’s favorite places. 

Jake rounded the corner and caught sight of Josh, perched on a stone bench with his newly gifted wings stretched out behind him, face tilted towards the eternally sunset sky, eyes closed. 

“You’re late,” he said as he flexed his wings. 

“You’re the last person to tell anyone they’re late for anything,” Jake replied warmly before sitting down next to him. 

“Sam and Danny can’t make it. Something to do with business they each had Topside,” Josh opened his eyes and looked over at Jake. 

“You’d know all about Topside business, brother. How is she anyway?” 

A toothy grin formed on his brother’s face, “Amazing, as always.” 

Jake had to admit, the situation with Josh and the human hadn’t turned out too bad in the end. He had only met her a few times but he liked seeing how happy his brother was, and he was comforted knowing she had been a big part of that. 

“What about you? Have you been terrorizing humanity with your threatening presence? Even in that ridiculous hat?” Josh nudged Jake’s shoulder. 

Jake rolled his eyes, “you laugh but this hat and my presence are synonymous with nightmares. They blog about it on the internet.” 

“Memes. The height of Demonic achievement.” 

“Shut up,” Jake said with a soft laugh. His thoughts drifted back to you, and how he spied on your party. It had only been a few days since that night, and he couldn’t get you or your little wings out of his head. He’d close his eyes and the sight of how the candles lit your face would flood his thoughts. He had only seen you for less than an hour but he was enamored, besotted, lovestruck. It was such an unfamiliar feeling he wasn’t sure if he liked it or not. Humans had never particularly caught his eye in his unnaturally long life. But here he was, stewing over the pretty girl in the Angel wings. 

“Who is it?” Josh asked. He knew something was up with Jake. 

“Who is what?” Jake tried to hide the defensiveness in his voice. 

“Whoever has you zoning out that hard. You haven’t been listening to a thing I’ve said in the last two minutes.” 

“Yes I have.”

“What was I saying?”

Jake’s mouth twisted in a frown, “doesn’t matter. It’s nothing.” 

Josh gave him a knowing look, “Jake…” 

“Ijustfindherfascinating,” he mumbled under his breath. 

“You what? You find who fascinating?” 

“Justhisgirl,” he mumbled once more. 

“A girl?” Josh made an educated guess, “a human, girl?”

Jake refused to look up at him but his face reddened at his brother's words. 

Josh’s wings twitched behind him, “you gave me…so much shit…and here you are…” A laugh escaped him and gradually got louder and louder until he leaned over with his elbows on his knees, shoulders shaking from the force. 

“It’s not funny.” 

“Yes…it is,” Josh said after somewhat composing himself. 

“It’s whatever, I’ll probably never see her again.”

“Aww why not?” 

“Like I told you before, humans aren’t a good idea.” 

Josh gave him a look, “you said that and then I ended up having the best year of my life. So…” 

Jake looked down at his watch, “Well I have nightmares to cause, chaos to sew.”

“Yeah, ok,” Josh said with a smile and an eye roll. He couldn’t wait to see how this turned out for his brother. 

~!~

Weeks had gone by, and the Demon had tried his best to keep you out of his mind. He kept himself distracted by staying in other cities, soaking up nightmares far away from you. He was being ‘good’, as far as Demons go. Any trouble he got into had nothing to do with the pretty human in the Angel wings. He had only barely heard your name called out to you before he had left your apartment. 

That didn’t mean the temptation wasn’t there. He could be inside your place in the blink of an eye if he wanted, but he needed to keep his distance. The last thing he needed was to get caught up with a human. It might have worked out for his twin, but that was an anomaly. You would be terrified of him, and while he knew your fear would be delicious, a small part of him didn’t want it. He didn’t want to imagine you afraid, or anxious. The possibility didn’t sit right with him. 

But at the end of the day, Jake was a Demon, and Demons are imperfect creatures. After weeks of denying himself another glimpse of you, he found himself standing in your living room. The lights were still strung around on your walls, but now you had some Christmas decor mixed in. To his surprise, the ouija board was on your coffee table, already set up with the planchette resting in the center. 

You were sitting on your couch, staring at the board, trying to psych yourself up into placing your fingertips on the planchette. Against your better judgment, you had tried a few times to “communicate” with the Spirit you thought you had talked to the night of your party. But you never got an answer, not once. It made you feel a little dumb but you kept randomly trying. Something inside you was curious, and fully believed it wasn’t Nora being an asshole that night. 

Jake saw you reach for the board every so often, before returning your hands to your lap or fiddle with your phone. He raised an eyebrow, what were you doing? But then he remembered, you had left the ‘door’ open that night, never saying goodbye. This could be his chance without scaring the shit out of you by suddenly appearing. 

Instead of sitting across from you like the last time, he took his seat next to you on the couch. As a Demon, he could fully shield his presence from humans, which meant you wouldn’t feel a dip on the seat next to you. Jake could be as quiet as a ghost. 

Finally, you built up the nerve to place your fingertips on the planchette. You looked around the room, and quietly said, “Is anyone here?” 

Jake’s breath caught in his throat, and he moved his hand next to yours. The downside of his shielding meant that he couldn’t actually feel your hand, and he found himself wishing he could. He didn’t want you to give up and put the board away, so he began to move the plastic piece. With ease he slid it over to the YES corner of the board. 

You gasped, “holy shit. Umm…” Suddenly your mind had gone blank, and you stammered out, “are you a ghost?”

Jake smiled at the question, the same one you had that first night, and just like before he spelled out,

“N-O-T-A-G-H-O-S-T”

Taking some measured breaths you continued, “what are you, then?” 

Jake hesitated slightly. He could lie, and tell you he was a completely benevolent being just passing through the ether, but he didn’t want to. But he was worried you’d throw the board if he answered honestly. But fuck it. 

“D-E-M-O-N”

A chill ran up your spine as the word was completed, and your fingers trembled. You could do this. What have you got to lose?

“What kind of Demon?” 

There was only one word he could use for simplicity's sake, 

“F-E-A-R.”

“Well that makes sense, I guess,” you shrugged, “do you like being a Demon?”

Jake slid the planchette a little quicker to the YES corner. 

“Of course you do. What’s your name?”

Names. Knowing a Demon’s name had power. Humans like to say it means you can control said Demon, but that wasn’t entirely true. It meant that a Demon could hear their name being called by the person through time and space. He could be down in Hell and her even whispering his name would have the sound zinging through the ether and for him it would be as if you had said it right into his ear. Demons don’t have to answer calls, but more often than not they do. It was one of their more narcissistic qualities. 

Did he want to give you that kind of hold over him? To be able to cut through realms just to get his attention? To be able to summon him whenever you wanted? Yes. 

You were expecting some ancient, Biblical-esque name to be spelled out. And while it technically was Biblical, you certainly weren’t expecting, 

“J-A-K-E.”

This made you purse your lips and tilt your head.

“You’re a Demon…named Jake?” It wasn’t supposed to be funny, but you had to suppress a laugh. 

Jake’s eyebrows knitted together, not understanding why you found that amusing.

The Demon having such a…simple name relaxed you a bit. You didn’t know of many Demonic names, but you were glad the ones you did know weren’t this his. 

You felt a little more bold, “okay, Jake, prove to me you’re actually here.”

Oh, you wanted a show? He still didn’t want to scare you, but he couldn’t help but use one of his usual moves when nightmare hopping. 

The shadows in the room started to move. They grew larger as if they were climbing up the walls, merging together and creeping around the ceiling. The room was suddenly cloaked in darkness. He left the shadows in their altered state for a minute or two before setting them back to where they originally were. 

“Can you show yourself?”

He could, he could and he wanted to. 

“YES”

You swallowed some air, “then do it.” 

Jake stared at you, knowing that there was no going back now. He had been trying to ignore the anxiety that was coursing through your system, but hanging in front of him like bait on a hook. 

He dropped the shield, letting himself be fully visible and very much right next to you. 

The Demon’s sudden appearance started you so much you recoiled against the arm of the couch, with a few expletives rapidly escaping your mouth. He sat stock still, his large dark brown eyes were locked onto yours. He was dressed in fittingly all black, with a wide brim hat sitting atop his head. Long brown hair fell just past his shoulders. He was gorgeous. Fuck. 

“You’re…really sitting here?” 

He shrugged and rested his arm on the back of the couch, maintaining a comfortable distance from you, “I’ve been sitting here, darling.”

Your bottom lip disappeared between your teeth as you continued to take him in. 

“I just…I just can’t believe it was you at my party.”

The corners of his mouth threatened a smile, “Wasn’t even supposed to be there, honestly. I was just passing through and couldn’t resist crashing the party. I also found your…inaccurate costume amusing.” 

Your nose crinkled, “inaccurate?”

His eyes softened slightly, “Angels aren’t meant to be beautiful.” 

Your heart stuttered, and your voice wobbled to match, “th-they aren’t? What’s wrong with them?”

He leaned his side into the back of the couch, “oh, nothing if you like pompous, arrogant hall monitors who make their lack of free will everyone else’s problem.” 

Your eyebrows slowly raised at his words, “that’s easy to say, for a Demon.” 

His features hardened, “I have stories for days about those pricks that would make you understand my opinion of them, darling.” 

You don’t know why you felt emboldened to talk back to a Demon of all beings, but you were enjoying the adrenaline rush. 

“What exactly do you…do…as a Demon?”

“In general I feed off people's fears, mainly through their nightmares but I can do the same if they’re awake as well.” 

He said it so matter of fact. As if he was telling you what the weather was like outside. 

“I also run favors for any of the higher-ups if they need to get people’s…attention.”

“What do you mean?” 

“I just…make my presence known and usually that means that one,” he started counting with his fingers, “they know they’re being monitored and if they owe anything to anyone that they’re not going to get away with not fulfilling their end of the bargain. And two, it frightens them so much that I get a good meal out of it. Everyone wins.”

“How do you…feed…?”

“It’s not really ‘eating’ in the literal sense. It’s more of a one sided energy exchange. Human emotions have insane amounts of energy.”

You shifted in your seat, facing him more directly, “are you feeding off my fear right now?” 

He tilted his head a little, “but you’re not afraid, are you, darling?”

He was right. Apprehensive? Sure. Fascinated? Very. But afraid? Fearful? You couldn’t understand why, but you almost felt calm in front of him. 

“Do you want me to be afraid?” 

He leaned in closer, giving into his bold nature, “fear is the last thing I want to taste from you.” 

Heat flooded your body at his words. Did he want you? You found yourself leaning closer to him, your mind envisioning all sorts of scenarios at the implication. The air around you seemed to shift, and the Demon’s gaze darkened. 

“Why did you come back tonight?”

He stared at you, “You…fascinate me…”

Your eyebrow twitched in confusion, “fascinated?”

“I don’t have a lot of experience interacting with humans outside of when I visit them at night, but when I happened upon your party…I couldn’t take my eyes off of you. Something about you was different, and it was an unfamiliar feeling to me. I regret not staying longer that night.” 

“Oh…”

“But my question for you, darling, is why did you try to communicate again with the board?” He casted a sideways glance at your coffee table, before his dark eyes returned to yours. 

You fiddled with your fingertips, “I don’t know…I had this nagging feeling that what happened that night was actually real, and it wasn’t just typical halloween party bullshit. I tried a few more times, but never got a response until tonight.” 

Something in Jake’s chest tightened at the thought of her trying to reach out but he hadn’t been around to answer, or worse, something with truly malevolent intentions would have been on the other side of that board. 

“I guess we’re both a pair of curious creatures, then,” he said softly. 

He was right, curiosity was all your brain could focus on, besides those brown eyes and velvety-looking lips of his. Because of this, you found yourself scooting closer to the Demon, feeling that the space between you was unnecessarily far. 

  The Demon of course noticed you moving closer, and he shifted in his seat to face you more directly. He silently mapped out your face, taking in every feature, and feeling an itch in his hands to hold your soft cheeks. For once in his long infernal life, the hunger he was feeling wasn’t for fear. 

This wordless communication continued until your faces were inches apart. You fought against the urge to flutter your eyes close and lean in even closer. 

He curled a finger under your chin, “I don’t bite, I promise…” 

You swallowed at his words, shaking off any lasting nerves and leaned forward, brushing your lips with his. 

The Demon nearly froze as you made contact, but he quickly kissed you back, not wanting to risk you pulling away. His hands did as they wanted, and finally slid up your jaw to your cheeks cupping them softly as he tilted his head for a better angle. You melted into the kiss, parting your mouth slightly to allow him access. His tongue swept across your bottom lip, before venturing into your mouth and colliding with your own.

The kiss grew more heated by the second, and you found yourself leaning back on the couch, with your new companion beginning to hover over you. The cool metal from the necklaces he wore grazed your chest as he got closer to you, and you relaxed against the couch cushion, allowing him to get fully on top of you. 

Soon, he was flat on top of you and your hands were buried in his dark locks. The hat that sat upon his head was tilted back from the angle, but it was still getting in the way. You moved your hand up his scalp to fling it out of the way, when your fingers curled around something…hard. As soon as your hand came into contact with the strange texture, the Demon on top of you groaned and bit down on your lower lip. 

Curiosity won and you peeped your eyes open and fully pushed his hat off his head, not caring where it landed on the floor. Your eyes widened when you saw what your fingers were curled around. 

A horn. 

He had a pair of them, fixed parallel with each other and curling backwards slightly into sharp points. They were a deep crimson in color, bordering on oxblood. His thick dark hair parted perfectly around them, making the front pieces of his hair fall beautifully on either side of his face. Your body froze underneath him. 

“Y-you have…horns?”

Through heavy lids, he gazed down at you, “most Demons do, darling.” 

You nodded slightly, of course they did. Your fingertips grazed down the side of one, studying the texture along the way. The more your hand moved, the more his hips squirmed and grinded into yours. You became keenly aware of the growing bulge between you. 

“Does that feel good?” You asked, sliding your fingers up to see how sharp the point was. 

His brown eyes seemed to darken even more, and a low grumble came from his throat, “you have no idea.” Jake couldn’t hold back any longer and crashed his lips back onto yours. You gasped as his tongue lapped at your lips for entrance. He savored and swallowed every sound you made, wanting to memorize them all. His hands reached under the t-shirt you were wearing and you swiftly helped him take it off of you. You hadn’t been wearing a bra, and he immediately cupped both breasts, squeezing and kneading your flesh as you arched up into him. His fingers tweaked your nipples before he lowered his mouth on one, swirling his tongue around the hardened peak.

The Demon’s fingers reached down to the top of your leggings. They slid underneath the fabric slightly before he raised his head and looked to you for permission. You slipped your bottom lip between your teeth and nodded, raising your hips off the couch to help him out. 

You hadn’t bothered with underwear since you were at home,  so when Jake swiftly pulled your leggings down and off your legs, his eyes were immediately met with your core. 

His hands rested on the top of your bent knees, slowly spreading them to get a better look at you. You could feel the heat radiating off of his palms. It wasn’t your typical feeling of body heat. There was a pulse to it that crept up your thighs, and reminded you that he truly wasn’t a human being. 

You remained still, watching him look at you. Your eyes followed his one hand as it traveled along your inner thigh, slowly making its way to where you needed him most. His eyes were locked on your core. Gently, his thumb briefly toyed with some of the curls that resided there, before dipping down into your slit. He dragged it through your arousal, hyper aware of every jump and gasp you made at his touch. 

For a brief moment, you thought you had seen his eyes turn fully black before returning to the dark brown you were familiar with. He started to lower himself down, bringing his face closer and closer to your core. Those same piercing eyes flicked up to your face, silently asking for permission again. Quickly you nodded as your heart started hammering in your chest. 

He licked his lips in anticipation. What he hadn’t revealed to you, was that you were about to be the first human that he’d tasted this way. The Demon knew what fear, anxiety, dread, all of the above tasted like. But this? This was desire, your desire, and he couldn’t stop himself from spreading your swollen lips apart with his fingers lowering his mouth to your flesh. 

The taste had him immediately humming into you, tongue swirling around your folds to gather as much of your arousal onto his tongue as he could. The action had you bucking into his mouth, one hand shaking by your side while the other gripped the back of your couch. 

Jake wrapped his arm around your thigh, resting his hand on your hip bone to hold you in place. His tongue dipped into your entrance before traveling upwards to finally give your clit the attention it desperately needed. You cried out as it made contact, jerking your hips once again towards his mouth. He chuckled slightly against you before taking your clit fully into his mouth and sucking on it harshly enough to elicit a high pitched whine from your throat. 

“Jesus-fucking-Christ,” you gasped into the air. 

The Demon released your clit and gruffly whispered into your core, his lips close enough to brush against you as he spoke “Jesus isn’t the one making you feel like this, darling.” 

You hiccuped a laugh as his lips wrapped around your clit once more. 

His fingers on his unoccupied hand circled your entrance a few times before dipping a single finger inside. Feeling your warmth surround him had the Demon rutting his hips into the couch cushion. 

Your back arched as he added a second finger, and the hand at your side flew to his dark hair, desperate to get him even closer to your core. He groaned into you as your fingernails dug into his scalp.  With every curl of his fingers or swipe of his tongue, you felt your high hurtling towards you. You grinded down onto his fingers while he continued expertly swirling his tongue around your clit. His hair wasn’t enough. You needed something else to hold onto. Blindly, you loosened your grip to move your hand to the left and wrap around the dark ridged horn that grew from his head. 

The second your hand secured itself around his horn, Jake gasped around your clit, breathing out hot hair against your sensitive flesh before he made a low growl in his throat. His teeth nipped at your skin as his mouth closed around your clit, causing you to cry out once again. His fingers sped up inside you, knowing you were close and wanting to desperately know how you felt and what you sounded like when you came. 

With one more harsh curl of his finger against that spot inside you, and the way his tongue flattened out as it swiped up the left side of your clit, the tension in your body broke as your orgasm took over your body. You shouted his name towards your ceiling, not caring if your neighbors heard it through the paper thin walls of your apartment building. 

He worked you through your high, trying to prolong it as long as he could before he slowed his movements to gently guide you back down. 

Eventually, your body went slack underneath him, and your hand left his horn to rub your face as you came back to reality. Jake lightly peppered kisses up your thigh as he slowly withdrew his fingers. You quietly whimpered at the loss, hating how empty you suddenly felt. 

Jake licked his fingers clean, not wanting to waste a drop of you. He couldn’t get enough, and while he wasn’t sure if all humans tasted this good or not, he was certain that none of them could come close to how delicious you were. 

He carefully crawled up your body, admiring how you blissed out you looked with your eyes closed and a small smile on your lips. 

Slowly you opened your eyes, still in disbelief over what had just happened. The two of you stared at each other silently before Jake lowered his mouth onto yours, and you could taste yourself on his tongue. 

The kiss turned heated, and you started to grab at the shirt that he was still wearing. 

He murmured against your lips, “darling, as much fun as we’re having on your couch, if I’m going to have you,” the implication obvious in his tone, “I want to be able to take you properly, on a bed.” 

You stifled a laugh before turning your head towards the open door of your bedroom. Within seconds the Demon had gathered you in his arms as he made his way to the doorway. He crossed the threshold and gently laid you on your bed. 

“You’re wearing far too much,” you boldly observed. 

He smirked at you, “well we can’t have that, can we?” 

You smiled and sat up on your knees and quickly helped him shed the offending layers of clothing, leaving just a pile of black clothing and leather boots next to your bed. Your eyes drank him in, noting every dip and contour of his body. His skin was already glistening slightly with sweat after your activities on the couch. Your gaze lowered and followed the faint trail of hair under his belly button down to thick dark curls that surrounded the base of his cock. 

The way your eyes widened at the sight of him had the Demon fighting back a smirk, and he took his cock in his hand to give himself a few pumps just to tease you even more. Jake crawled up the bed to hover over you. 

If it weren’t for the horns, you wouldn’t have guessed a Demon was looking down at you, with how soft his gaze was. Your chest swelled unexpectedly at the silent emotions swimming behind his dark eyes. You had so many questions for him, and a need to know everything about him and his life. You didn’t want to think about the fact that he’d probably leave after tonight. 

His lips brushed yours with a feather-light softness, as if he was afraid you’d shatter underneath him like glass. The gesture had your heart stuttering in your chest. 

“I know you said you’re not a ghost,” you whispered, calling back to your first interaction, “but promise you won’t disappear like one…afterwards…”

Jake knew what you were asking, and every option weighed heavily on his mind. This was completely uncharted territory for him, and for all of his confidence he was unsure how to navigate it. 

He looked down, focusing on a lone freckle on your stomach before replying, “didn’t anyone tell you that Demons were dangerous?” 

There was a sheepishness to his tone that surprised you, but you countered, “you mean the same people who told me to not fuck with Ouija boards?”

“You never know who you’re talking to…”

“I don’t know you’re not so bad….” you mused. 

His eyes traveled up your body to meet yours, “I’m not an innocent creature, darling.”

Now it was your eyes that darkened, “show me…” 

You felt his thick cock twitch between you in response.

Jake surged forward and captured your lips with his. You wasted no time to return the kiss, cradling his jaw in your hands. Your legs went lax in his hands as he spread them apart to fit himself between them. He reached down to wrap his hand around his cock and dragged it through your slit. You gasped at the contact, and then smiled against his lips. 

“Please…,” you whispered, the need for him taking over your body. 

With a swivel of his hips, his cock plunged inside you, bottoming out as far as he could go. You threw your head back and cried out, relishing how full you felt. 

Jake didn’t even try to hold back the groan in his throat as your velvety heat enveloped him. He tried to give himself a minute to catch his breath. Moreover, he was trying to give you a minute to adjust, but your legs wrapped around his hips, sending the message to move. Happy to oblige you, he reared his hips back nearly all the way, before thrusting forward hard enough that your ankles shook slightly against the small of his back. 

Your mouth hung open and your eyes were screwed shut, and the Demon leaned down to whisper in your ear, “alright there, darling?” 

You tilted your head to reply, “if you don’t start moving…”

He chuckled and whispered something you were sure sounded like a playful, “demanding little thing…” before settling into a steady rhythm. Your nails dug into the skin of his shoulders as he moved, and the feeling of his flesh under your hands sent a sharp jolt of pleasure through your body. 

Jake buried his face in the crook of your neck, planting kisses along your neck as he gained speed. Soon he was all but slamming into you, making your bed creek to the point where the frame was getting closer and closer to hitting the wall behind it. 

There was only one light on in the room, a small desk light in the corner by your laptop, It wasn’t bright enough to fully illuminate the room, but it cast a warm glow from the side of the room it was on. Your eyes fluttered open briefly as you clung to the Demon inside you, and you noticed that the shadows on the walls and the ceilings looked…different. They were moving in ways that weren’t natural, in fact they shouldn’t have been moving at all given the source of light. But they were wobbling and morphing into different abstract shapes around you. It was then you remembered what Jake had done to prove his presence in your apartment: the trick with the shadows and how he used them to cloak all visible light in the room. 

Your attention on the shadows didn’t last however, as he hiked one of your legs higher on his side, pushing it towards you chest and giving him a new angle to work with. This let him hit even deeper, and the head of his cock was rutting against a spot inside you that had you gasping for air. 

Jake felt you squeezing him harder and more frequently as he continued his pace, and he could tell you were getting close. He smirked against the skin of your shoulder and reached down with his other hand to grab your ass cheek and knead the soft flesh as he worked you towards your second orgasm of the night. 

At this point you were a babbling mess underneath him, holding on for dear life as you hurtled towards the edge. He lifted his head up and greedily crashed his lips into yours, wanting to feel every gasp and reedy sigh coming from you. 

It was all too much, and you couldn’t hold back anymore. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head and a cry flew from your mouth as your orgasm took over, shattering beneath him. 

“Yeah…yeah that's it, darling…doing so well,” he encouraged in a low voice as he continued to piston his hips and work you through your high. 

Jake slowed as you began to come down, and your muscles felt like jello from how tense they had been leading up to your orgasm. His lips pressed sweetly into your cheek, as he felt you relax even further onto the bed. He hoped you weren’t too tired, because he wasn’t through with you. 

Before you could register which way was up, the Demon pulled out of you, hissing at the sudden rush of cold air on his cock. Your eyes opened a bit in curiosity, as you knew he hadn’t came yet. The shadows were still flickering on the walls to their own accord, resembling flames with their movements. 

He sat up on his knees, resting on his haunches and taking your hips in his hands. In one swift motion, he had you on your stomach, yanking your hips backwards before he reared back himself and slammed back into you from behind. 

You cried out into the pillow beneath you, your body still sensitive from your last orgasm. All of her nerve endings were on fire, and lightning bolts of pleasure radiated from your core as he rutted into you at a brutal pace. 

It was a struggle to keep yourself properly on your hands and knees, as every thrust had you lurching forward and nearly off balance. Curse words fell from your mouth, harmonizing with the grunts and heavy breathing from the Demon behind you. His thick hands and long finger were squeezing your hips in such a way you were sure there would be marks left behind, but you didn’t care, you loved how rough he was at that moment. A stark contrast to how he had been in the previous round. 

He slowed his pace slightly to these long and deliberate strokes, wanting to really savor how incredible you felt wrapped around him. But while this angle felt amazing not only for you and for him, he felt a little far away from you, and he didn’t like that at all. 

While maintaining his pace he gathered you up in his arms and pulled you upright, securing your back to his front, and his chin on your shoulder. The new angle had him thrusting upwards into you, and it made your head fall back onto his shoulder. Your legs were starting to shake from the excursion, and instinctively you reached up and took one of his horns in your hand to keep yourself balanced. 

This caused the Demon to growl next to your ear. His hips involuntarily swiveled and pushed his aching deeper inside you at the feeling of your hand on one of his horns. The combined sensations had his own high looming in the distance, but he didn’t want to cross the finish line alone. He slid his hand down your torso to your clit, immediately figuring out the pattern that caused the biggest reaction from you. 

“You got one more for me? Hmm? Do you, darling?” He spoke into your ear and pressed his lips on the shell of it. “I know you do; you can do it. You’re already squeezing me so tight.” 

He was whispering pure filth into your ear as he kept rutting into you and working your clit. He didn’t just want to feel you come again, he needed it. Once around his fingers and another around his cock wasn’t enough for him. He needed more. 

Your body started to tremble in his arms, and he knew you were right on the edge. He wasn’t very far behind you as his cock stiffened even more. Within seconds you were clamping down around him again, throwing your head back and crying out towards the ceiling. As your high slammed into you again, the Demon’s own orgasm course through him. He let out a low groan as his hips stuttered a few times before pushing into you one final time, emptying himself completely. In the midst of it all, the shadows closed in on you both briefly before retreating and settling back in their rightful places, looking completely normal now. 

His hand slowly circled your clit, trying to prolong your orgasm as long as he could, but when your body jolted at the sensitivity he stopped and slowly withdrew from you. Your legs started to give out and he quickly caught you and gently laid you back down on the bed, not wanting you to fall. 

The sight of his release slowly rolling down your thigh distracted him for a second, before he remembered it was the gentlemanly thing to do to clean you up. Thankfully, you had a bathroom attached to your room, so he didn’t have to go too far to get a warm washcloth to clean you both up. The whole time you watched him through heavy lidded eyes, exhausted from the whole evening. 

On his way back from throwing the rag in your hamper, he noted his pile of clothes and his hat in the other room. He turned back to your bed, your eyes were nearly shut and you were under the covers. An intrusive thought flashed through his mind, that it would be so easy for him to gather his things and leave, letting you wake up in the morning and chalk it all up to a wine-induced dream. But then your request from earlier filtered through his thoughts, and a pang shot through his chest. No…he couldn’t do that. Most surprisingly, he didn’t want to. 

He shook his head before crawling into your bed, wrapping his arms around you and letting you rest your head on his chest. 

You didn’t want to fall asleep, and you tried real hard to stay awake. But his lips rested on the crown of your head, while his fingers traced little patterns on your lower back. It wasn’t long before you both drifted off into a restful sleep. 

Hours later, when the sun had fully risen and light was streaming through your window, you were awoken by a low snore near your ear. Blinking your eyes open, you looked up to find Jake’s face inches from yours. His arms were around your waist and he was practically sharing your pillow, but you didn’t mind. Carefully you turned over to face him, trying not to wake him up. His features looked so much softer this way, and you could fully admire the slope of his nose and how his dark eyelashes fanned out on his cheeks. He was one of the most beautiful men you had ever seen. 

The Demon began to stir awake, and his eyes slowly opened to find you laying in the crook of his arm, absently fiddling with his necklaces. 

“Morning…,” he murmured, voice nearly an octave lower from sleep. 

“Morning…,” you replied, unable to hide the smile that slid across your face. 

His hand reached up and cupped your face, tilting it up wards so he could slot his mouth over yours in a languid kiss. 

As you pulled away, you whispered a question against his lips.

“Not a ghost?”

His arms tightened around you and pulled you closer to him. 

“Not a ghost, darling.” 

FIN

“So, what do you do for fun?”

Zanri had been hanging around you for the last hour. Honeyed words from behind sharp teeth. You’d let him, everyone else at this party seemed to be giving you the third degree. If he hadn't been showering you with attention you probably would've left by now.

“Oh, this and that. I'm still trying to get my bearings” Not entirely true, but not a lie either. Demons can tell when you lie to them and while there weren't any rules against it, it was still rude.

“I'd love to show you some things… Make a night of it, perhaps”

Yeah. Right. Spending hours with you. You almost left right then. Maybe he picked up on you bristling

“Really!” he took your hand “You're fascinating…” His gaze met yours. Eyes like black pearls, shimmering with the lights of stars long dead, staring into your ice-blue ones “Thousands of Damned arrive on these benighted plains every day, and you may be the first one that's held my interest in a millennium. There's something special about you”

You blushed a little, hoping the pale white foundation covering your face hid it. His eyes didn't falter, not even as a clawed finger brushed your cheek.

“Do you want another drink? Maybe to go upstairs?”

You looked around at the party, “but everyone's down here, what's upstairs?”

“Bedrooms, for one” a wry smile parted deep red lips

You looked at him, brow furrowed “but I'm not tired?”

Zanri’s laughter made you wince, it sounded like trying to run a handful of gravel through a coffee grinder. An ugly, honest laugh. “Me neither, that's not why I suggested it”

A raised eyebrow, more laughter “Come on, you. Let me show you what I mean.”

He could have splintered every bone in your hand without even trying, nonetheless he barely held on at all as he led you to the stairs, then up away from the crowd and the music.

The facility you sped through was something between a hotel and halfway house, temporary lodgings for the newest denizens of this region of Hell. A reception and function room down below, endless stairs to endless rooms above. Every so often you’d be asked to move to another room to accommodate more people checking in, but despite being fully booked the place never seemed to stop having more and more space.

“Here's our stop” Zanri let go of your hand to pull out a keycard, swiping it against the door handle. Room 22/7e42. He gently shepherded you over the threshold “come in, come in, mi casa es tu casa’

The room wasn't particularly well appointed: a bed, a television, a desk and a minifridge. Exactly the same as yours, minus a folder of pamphlets advertising jobs and apartments.

“So, why did you want me to see your room?” You looked up at him, tilting your head slightly

He didn't voice a response, simply taking off your glasses

“Hey! I need them!”

“I know, I just don't want you to damage them”

“Doing wha- Mmph”

He kissed you. His skin was hot, so hot you feel like it would burn you if you still had flesh that burns. Instead you just put your hand on his face, feeling the soft skin speckled with steel wire stubble. Your other hand found the gleaming filament hair covering his scalp.

He wasn't idle either, clawed hands shaking around your back, gripping handfuls of your soft flesh in between tracing idle patterns across your skin. His claws pressed against you, the sharp points pressing in though they wouldn't break the skin. Not unless he wanted them to.

Your lips separated. His face next to yours. Breath like cinnamon, petrol, camphor and ozone. Wide-eyed you stared at one another.

“More?”

“More.”

The next kiss sent you both reeling, staggering to his bed while you tried to see who could get more of their tongue into the others’ mouth. A mess of limbs, kissing and tonguing, stripping clothes off yourselves and one another as efficiently as you could, not caring where things landed or what tore into ribbons in your haste.

Panting into one another, sharing hot breath, you perched on the edge of the bed. One hand on your shoulder, the other positioning his flared tip against your entrance. He looked at you. Starlight in void. You nodded. He pushed.

Angling your hips, you felt him enter. His thick, blunt tip stretching you open. You kept his gaze, eyes locked as his hips meshed with yours. Even through the grunting and sighing of your exertions he still stole kisses as he went. Your hands found his slender ibex-like horns, pushing your tongue into his mouth as you felt your toes pointing and your body start to tense up around him.

Slick drooled from your stretched-open slit, worked into a froth by his rhythmic motion. His breath was hot on your cheek, getting faster and faster. The slap-slap-slapping of his balls on your ass got quieter as they ascended, pulling taut against his crotch.

He was twitching in you, the rhythm of his thrusts breaking down as he chased his peak. He got more desperate as you wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him in. You didn't think a demon could sweat, but he was.

Twitching became throbbing. The last few strokes drove him to his hilt, pressing against the back walls of your cunt. A moment, his focus slipping, droplets of your blood where the claws cut in.

He sucked on your tongue as he filled you up. Liquid demonseed painting your cunt, spurting in jet after white-hot jet. It didn't hurt, instead that heat flowed through you. Breathing fast, hips gyrating, you milked him for all you could. Your body coaxed every drop out of him, taking all you could.

I don’t question him as he steps onto a well worn trail and follows it all the way to a house. My house. The memory of it comes back into focus as if it had been lifted out of a fog, though it looks strange to me now. The runes along the foundation look like they were made by children, the wards they cast are flimsy at best. Strange, I’d always thought they were the best in the neighborhood.

“You see them as I see them,” he explains as he lifts a clawed hand and tears right through the glittering ward. “Key is in your pocket.”

Right. I slide my hand into the pocket of my jeans and find the key along with a couple crushed pieces of dried rosemary. What the hell was I doing with it? 

I slide the key into the lock and step into the dark house. It’s utterly silent, all the lights off. When I reach for the light switch, Rhys bats my hand away. “The neighbors don’t need to know we’re here.”

I somehow know my way around in the dark, even as the memory slowly returns, slipping out from the fog like a frightened prey animal. My room is the smallest, crammed into the attic, my footsteps echo on the stairs as we walk, but Rhys makes no sound. If anyone was in the house they would have assumed I was alone. Every once in a while I have to glance back over my shoulder to make sure he’s still there.

He only lets me turn the lights on in my cramped bedroom once he’s sure there are no windows to give us away. The sight of him having to duck to not slam his head against the slanted roof is amusing enough to make the risk worth it. He settles himself on my bed after a moment of knocking things around with his wings, long legs folded beneath him on my worn quilt, a frown crossing his handsome features.

“I’ve seen prison cells with more space,” he huffs.

I go to the wardrobe jammed in the corner, the old oak doors hanging on by a single, rusted hinge that squeaks when it opens. I wince as I start pushing old sweaters and jackets around, unsure of what I’m looking for. “What’s the dress code for this?”

The apex talon on his left wing scrapes against the wall, slashing through the worn wallpaper, and he huffs as he wraps the leathery membrane around himself like a cocoon. “Fucking witches. All so godsdamn small!”

Once he’s sure he’s not going to wreck anymore of the decor, he turns his attention back to me and I feel heat rush through me once more as those violet eyes roam over my body. “You’ll look good in black.”

A blush works its way up my cheeks as I start pushing pastel sweaters and multicolored t-shirts out of my way, looking for anything black. There’s a small, lacey thing tucked in the back and I have a distinct memory of someone telling me not to wear that to some function or another but the details or fuzzy. All I know is that someone, somewhere, made me feel small the last time I’d worn it. And I will never let anyone make me feel like that again.

I pull it out of the wardrobe and hold it out for Rhys to see. Something about him heightens all my worst emotions. My anger feels tenfold. My insecurities have tripled. I need him to quiet one and use the other, that much I do know.

His fangs glint in the witchlights the bob from the ceiling as he takes it in. “Certainly not the attire of a virgin sacrifice.”

A shadow from within the fog lets me see my grandmother’s threat from yesterday and I ball the dress in my hands up in my fists. “I’m no one’s sacrifice!” There’s something… different in my voice, and whatever it is makes the witchlights shutter. 

Rhys only grins triumphantly at the sight. “That’s my girl.” 

I take a shuddering breath to calm the pulsing of something I feel in my veins, something I can’t identify, something I don’t remember possessing before. Something that belongs to Rhys just as much as I do. It starts with a buzzing feeling in my spine, where his sigil sits. 

“I’m going to go change.” A tendril of shadow snakes out from underneath his wings and snags me by the wrist, pulling me towards where he sits on the bed before I can even take a step towards the door. 

“Why so shy?” He teases, wings unfolding enough for him to reach out a clawed hand and brush it against the buttons on my jeans. “What are you afraid I’ll see?”

I shiver at the contact, my legs moving on their own accord until my knees bump against the bed frame. He has such complete control over me, I don’t know if he even knows it. “I’m not afraid of anything!” I try to protest but my voice shakes when I speak.

He grins as his claws retract to let him pop the buttons open, large hands slowly pushing the loose fabric down my hips. It is an effort to stand still, to not climb into his lap and straddle him right here in my ratty bedroom. 

Once the fabric is past my thighs my jeans fall to the floor in a pool around my ankles on their own accord, his callused hands now stroking up my exposed flesh to reach for the hem of my sweater. I am no blushing virgin, but I have never been this aroused by a simple action before either. I find myself biting my lip as I watch the way his hands move over my body. I’m scared if I move too fast or make too much noise he’ll stop, just like he did earlier, leaving me empty and cold in the loss of his touch.

He leans forward on his knees, wings parting just enough to let him lean forward without batting into the walls, to brush his lips over my stomach as he removes the sweater inch by inch. Every second passes by like an hour, his kisses slow and unhurried as if we have all the time in the world. 

I squeeze my eyes shut as his lips ghost over my ribs, nose brushing up against the band of my bra. His lips are so plush and warm, I can’t help but wonder what they would feel like wrapped around my nipple. The thought makes heat pool between my legs and I instinctively clench my thighs together, looking for some form of friction to take the edge off.  

He nips teasingly at the valley between my breasts, but leaves my bra in place as he finally pushes the sweater over my head and onto the floor. “Aren’t you pretty,” he purrs.

I can’t stop myself from leaning forward, one hand braced on his muscular shoulder to keep myself from falling directly into his lap. I need to kiss him. I need to have his lips back on mine.

He chuckles wickedly as he stops me with a hand on my throat, squeezing just enough to halt my movements. “What did we talk about earlier, hm?”

“Please, Rhys,” I whimper.

“After we’re done,” he promises, unbothered by the effect he has on me, knowing I’m so totally at his mercy and desperate for any attention. I think he likes keeping me here. Likes knowing he can dangle pleasure within reach and then rip it away from me before I can truly have a taste. It might be the most effective way to keep me from looking into what we’re doing and I am a fool who keeps falling for it, but anytime I start to question why I allow it, the fog returns in my head and all the questions disappear in a rush. Just as they do now.

My eyes feel heavy and my head empty as I nod, the movements of my body foreign, like a puppet being jerked around on a string. 

He pulls the dress over my head with the same slow, teasing pace as he’d taken off my clothes, and it only makes the heat beneath my skin all the worse. The dress halts on my upper thighs, just long enough to cover all the important bits, and his hands linger on the hem, fingers tracing strange shapes on the inside of my thighs.

I might be desperate enough to try begging one more time, were it not for the sound of footsteps on the stairs. Rhys dissolves into shadow and smoke and dives underneath the bed as the door opens and my Mother strides in, broom still in hand from the flight over.

“What are you wearing?” She says in greeting.

That pulse of anger that had made the lights flicker returns and she glances at it with one, manicured brow raised in surprise. 

“I thought it looked nice-”

“You look like a whore,” she returns, hands smoothing over the green cloak dusting her shoulders. If she cares about the new display of power, she doesn’t mention it. Probably thinks it's a fluke. Or perhaps an errant flair of her own magic, she certainly has enough to spare. “Change before you head out. I’m sure your performance tonight will be embarrassing enough as it is without you being seen by everyone in that awful outfit.”

My cheeks flush with embarrassment. 

“You told me you were going on a diet,” she continues to chastise. “That dress certainly proves that a lie.”

I run a hand over my stomach self-consciously, but I can’t think through the fog to find an argument. 

“Honestly, Y/N, is all this a joke to you?”

“No!” I protest but she cuts me off.

“You certainly could have fooled me! Our family name is on the line here, you understand the reputation you have to uphold, don’t you?”

“Yes, Mother,” I try again, but she continues on like I hadn’t.

“Our family holds the front line against both the human world and the demon one. Do you know how much work that takes, to keep the demons leashed to their dimension and keep those stupid humans in the dark? Do you have any idea the sacrifices we’ve all had to make? The work we’ve all put in?”

“Yes-”

“Do you know how many Sisters I have lost? How many I had to decide to sacrifice to preserve our coven’s strength?”

“I understand-”

“To show weakness is to invite our destruction. This peace you have gotten to grow up in has come at a terrible price. It is not a game.”

“I know-”

“No, you don’t!” She hisses. “Because if you did, then you would have taken your lessons seriously. You would have studied harder. You wouldn’t be an example of weakness today.”

My hands are clenched so hard at my sides my fingernails have left indents in my palms. “I will not disappoint you tonight, Mother.”

“You only have one shot to prove yourself, because if the Salem girl beats you, you’re the sacrifice, you understand that don’t you?”

Rhys’s sigil on my back burns. “I know. She won’t beat me. I’ve been practicing.”

She frowns as she shifts her broom to her other hand. “I wish I believed you.”

She might as well have hit me. 

“I have to hunt tonight, there are too many humans on the border.”

And as powerful and proud as my Mother is, she can’t stand there and watch me make a fool of myself. As always, the Coven provides a perfect excuse for her to not be around while I “disgrace the family name”  and “make her wish I was never born”. The instances in which she said those very words flood my mind at a feverish pace, spinning round and round like a whirlwind movie performance. The burning at my back spreads all the way to my fingertips and I swear I feel the flicker of a flame between my clenched fists again.

“Do you really think so little of me?” I ask, my voice a lot smaller than I mean it to be.

“I stopped expecting big things from you a long time ago,” she retorts, straightening her cloak again. If she feels any remorse for the words or concern for my wellbeing, she doesn’t show it. I am as expendable as any other witch in the Coven, maybe more since she thinks so little of me. “Just try not to die tonight, ok?”

“I won’t be dying tonight,” I say through my teeth.

She nods, turns towards the stairs, then glances back one last time over her shoulder. “Change before you go.” Those are her parting words for my impending doom?

The door shuts behind her and I lash out and slam my fist into the wall in frustration; the first movement of my body all day that has felt distinctly mine and not so terrible intertwined with Rhys.. The wood groans under my burning knuckles, but worse still, the fading wall paper smolders, the edges burning and crinkling, the smell of melting glue filling the air. I glance down at my hands long enough to see a flicker of those blue flame disappear between my knuckles through the tears brimming my eyes. 

Rhys materializes from under the bed, looking annoyed that he can’t stretch out his wings. “That was harsh, even for a Witch.”

I stretch out my hands, palms splayed, no more flames to be seen, even if the wallpaper still smolders. “Is this from you?”

“It’s the amplification of what’s already inside you,” he says.

My Mother’s words still ring in my ears. “There’s nothing inside me.”

He reaches out a hand and tilts my head up to look at him. “We both know that’s not true, Darling.”

I wish I could remember how he came to me; remember which god I needed to thank for bringing him to me. No one understands me like he does. He makes me feel seen, like I’m not entirely a burden. The fleeting moment of control I had over my body disappears, dispelled by this new touch of his hands against my face.

He wipes the tears that slip down my cheeks with his thumbs. “Ready to show them exactly what you are, Little Witch?”

I’m not going to change the dress. And I’m not going to die today either. “Yes.”

He grins wickedly, eyes going all black again. “Then let’s give them a Solstice no one will ever forget.”

Those words are the last thing I remember before the fog takes me completely. There is only darkness and shadow, floating and swirling so intensely around me that I lose sight of everything. I am not a person, I am a thought, tossed around in the dark. Dully, I am aware of sounds. Of a flash of heat on my skin. Of the distant sound of screaming. Terror becomes a companion, but it is never an emotion that comes from me, only something that walks alongside me in the dark. Through it all, there is never a moment that I am not aware of him. His being is as intertwined in the darkness as I am, I think he might very well have been its creator as well as its caretaker. Even here, the brush of him is enough to keep me from thinking too hard about it. The darkness is good and soothing and nothing to fear, no matter what sounds come from outside it.

When he finally sets me free from the darkness, it is in a world once again on fire. What looks like a celebratory parade now lays in cinders, the charred remains of a skeletal figure clutching the melted wheel on the front. The air is heavy with ash, the wind blowing embers across the blood red sky. 

There is more screaming. Underneath what once might have been a floral arch, twisted in the burning ribbons are people… no witches, fighting for an escape that doesn’t come as the winged death god that has followed me all day stalks towards them with his claws out, chuckling at their plight.

Something in me recoils, fights against the invisible hands that hold me, just enough to let out a scream of horror as the witches meet a bloody end, the gore splattering across Rhys’s wings. He turns to look at me then, grinning wickedly, no violet in his eyes to be seen, only endless black pits.

The shadow in my skull parts just enough to remind me what he really is: Demon. Prince of Hel.

My hands shake at my sides. My back aches and burns like someone had tried to set me on fire, but I am wholly unscathed compared to the carnage and destruction around me.

“This is what you wanted, isn’t it?” 

But the fog in my head closes in tighter, sharper now, like talons digging into my skull. I scream as I fall to my knees, but the hands that hold me won’t let me reach for my head. Blue flames still dance from my fingertips, flames I don’t remember unleashing. 

“What?” Each word is a battle to get out. “What did I do?”

The blood on his hands is cold as ice as he brushes a hand over my cheek. “What you were meant to do, Little Witch. What they were always scared you could do. Don’t you see? You’re free!”

Free? Whatever the Solstice celebration was supposed to be is irrelevant now, there is only death and fire and it’s all at my hand. The moment guilt starts to creep in, the fog rips it away from me, replaces it with that same need to please him.

“You freed me?”

Invisible hands help me stand again. He braces a hand on my hip to steady me as he brushes his lips over my forehead. The fires seem irrelevant like this. “They’ll never hurt you again. They’ll never hurt us again.”

I can’t remember what he was saving me from. Before I can ask the question, a false sense of gratitude worms its way into my chest. Another gift from him. The more gifts he gives me, the more hollow and cold I feel my insides becoming. My head doesn’t know reality from the world he creates inside my mind, but my heart is another matter. There is something very, very wrong with him. With me. But I am not strong enough to fight it. The sigil at my back burns when I try.

“What now?”

Plush lips brush against mine. My body moves for me, chasing the heat of him. Chasing the blissful pleasure of emptiness that comes when he touches me. His wants are mirrored through me somehow. 

“What would you like now, My Little Witch? The rest of the Coven? A throne perhaps? There is nothing in your way. I can give you everything you’ve ever wanted.”

I don’t know that I want anything. Nothing feels real. Nothing but him.

“Want you,” I say, voice a little breathless, as if conjuring up anything of myself from within the fog is a tremendous effort. It certainly feels like it. I don’t know if that’s another gift from him or not. Everything is becoming so very muddled again. 

The demon grins as he asks, “And then?”

Images swirl around my head. Each carefully planted by those invisible hands. I am powerless to resist their influence. “No more witches.”

“I couldn’t think of anything better, Darling.”

-----

Tag List:

@girl-math-aint-mathing / @hjgdhghoe / @gloomy-hag / @barb00235 / @scxrletwitches

You had an unwelcomed guest.

It wasn't noticeable at first, the loaming shadows on your wall. But you instantly freaked out as an arm reached out, grabbing the end of your bed post. Its grip was firm as it forced the rest of its body out. Its build was that in the form of a tall man. Any other detail was too obscured from the darkness it loomed over itself.

While this was happening you, internally, was freaking the fuck out. You tried all your might to move your body, to cower from that thing. You've had your mind play tricks on you before. It was second nature to experience these things in your current state. But your instincts are going haywire right now. It was an upright force towards your flight responses now. This was not a trick of your mind, it was real and you needed to escape. But you were utterly helpless. All you could do was to stare at the entity.

It stared back.

It opened its eyes amongst the void, projecting fiery red. It was the only distinguishing thing you could make out. As like with its body, his face was still pretty unidentifiable. It beamed with such malice that it pierced your soul. If you could you would have gulped.

You prayed whatever that thing was, that it would not move any closer. You had no clue what it was nor why was it looking at you like you had done something to atrocious him....maybe in another life perhaps? You don't really believe in that shit but what you are experiencing now is tearing your sense of reality so you really don't know what to believe anymore.

The man? hovered above you as its entire body was out of the wall. He never did move after that. Or rather didn't have a chance.

Thunder once again boomed outside. Seconds only passed as lightning struck the sky, flashing your vision. And with a blink, the man before you vanished.

Your eyes roamed the rest of the room in a panic. You were still freaking out, thinking that the entity moved somewhere else within your room. But you couldn't find him in your search. On edge you didn't drop your defense that easily. You waited for a bit, a few minutes or so. And sighed. You involuntarily you held your breath from that quick scare. Still on edge, yet a relief was washing over you slowly.

You didn't get sleep that night. Too afraid that it might come back that night.....he didn't though but....

What you didn't expect is that this would be a common occurrence.

The second time he showed up was much more disturbing. He came from the floor by the end of your bed, so you didn't expect his arrival until you saw his signature flash of crimson. He stood by the back bedframe. This time you got to see how large his frame was as his body was in clear view. This didn't help either as he obscured your window, blocking out much of its natural light. The only thing that shined was red.

You were pretty much hysterical the first time you saw him. You felt small and defenceless under his malicious gaze. All you could was stare into it as he did so with you. Thank the gods, you felt, that he didn't move any closer. He remained motionless by your bed post.

What was odd was that your fear, while still prominent, was easing up. Mostly it was that 15 minutes (or what felt like it ) of direct eye contact with a grumpy being was starting to become, well, boring.

While you really couldn't read his face, he could see yours. His eyes slanted, making it look smaller then it was before. If you had to guess it was as if you offended him for not being scared. You're the one who should feel offended right now. Some random spooky man thing breaks into your home and just stares at you while you're trying to sleep. Hell no. If you were able to move right now you would have scoffed and flipped him off.

You couldn't bother to be scared now, no you were mildly irritated. You move your sight away from him in spite. You had enough of this. You were drained from work and needed to try to at least sleep for a couple of hours.

You didn't look back. Not when the corner of your eyes saw his shadows move. You didn't care if he left on not as your body slowly started to ease and drift to sleep.

__________________________________

As you succumbed to slumber the man walked up to the side of your bed and sat down on the sheet. There wasn't any imprint that was made by his weight. Was just a shadow, in this form.

He sat there puzzled by your actions. Usually it would take many nights before someone didn't fear his presence anymore. It ruined his feeding. And how you went about it pissed him off.

He was a succubus. A subclass one that feeds off fear. He often appears in nightmares, shapes one's dreamscape into dread and turmoil. But lately that hadn't been satisfying to him. No matter who or what the person was, he hadn't got his fill. It was only until his brother suggested to try terrorizing within reality with a feast similar to his current taste. To dine on the fears of the people who couldn't sleep. To be the "monster under the bed" Gabe states.

But Miguel was picky with his food. His choices were limited to him. He eventually ended up as a sleep paralysis demon. Less work for him too, all he had to do was stand there and look pretty ( well to the people, look pretty Fucken terrifying). And everything would have gone perfectly too, but he met you.