oh my oh my oh my... I'm here to break the rules...
S3 and E1, &, 🖤💙
:3
I'm awaiting your wrath
oh Somna you sneaky little gremlin you! absolutely anything for you
your People are nightmare!Steve and gargoyle!Eddie
your Place is Dealer's Choice, so I'm giving you Thrift Store
your Things are a Photograph and a Mixtape
word count: 800
18+ONLY, no major warnings just nightmares, Steddie-ish, mention of migraines, monsters, taxidermy. I write these fast and post them without much fuss in an effort to not get too precious about things and just have fun, I love you for reading. Also, I have at least 30 of these asks sitting in my drafts, but this might be my last one for a while.
pick your poison
You'd walked down that same street a million times when the glass storefront with the sign Lost & Found on the door appeared out of nowhere one day. You were certain there'd been nothing but an alleyway in that space the day before.
A bell above the door dinged when you went in, heralding your arrival with an exceptionally shrill clanging that reverberated off your skull. For a second you feared it might trigger another migraine.
"Can I help you find anything?" Steve said from behind the desk, peeking around a tall stack of books, adjusting his thick, tortoiseshell glasses. Behind him was an old Zenith box television showcasing nothing but static.
"Um," you felt suddenly overwhelmed by the shelves of oddities stuffed into the small space, not sure where to look when your eyes landed on what appeared to be a taxidermied squirrel with tiny fangs.
"No, I think I'll just look around if that's alright," you pivoted to avoid a mound of used shoes that were piled up to your hip. At a glance, none of them came in pairs.
"I moved the mixtapes over by the radios," he shuffled around to come out from behind the desk, a familiar glint in his eye. "Found a few new ones since last time."
You assumed maybe he thought you were someone else, so you didn't try to correct him. Must've been a coincidence that he knew about your affection for music relics from another age.
"Where did you find all these?" You asked a few minutes later, pawing through the bins of personalized tapes in in awe. There were handwritten lists of songs and notes inside the hard plastic covers, along with drawings and names on the spines. "For Terry, Love Emily" and "Favorite Metal Mix" along with different bands and titles to the collections.
You picked up a bright neon Memorex tape to inspect the songs on it penned in blue ink with a curious smile on your face. Steve came up behind you and stood with his hands in his pockets. He smelled good, like honeysuckle, sawdust, and freshly mowed grass.
"People lose things and I find them," he said with a shrug. "Have you lost anything? I might have it."
You turned to him then, and really took the time to appreciate the details of his face. The square of his jaw, the curve of his mouth, and the moles dotting down his flesh.
"We've met before, haven't we?"
He shifted his weight forward, leaning into your personal space with the ease of someone who had been there many times before.
"Are you lost? Do you need to be found?"
Something flashed in his eyes, something dark. Sinister, even. But it didn't make you afraid, it gave you comfort, like the thrill of entering a haunted house when you've paid to be scared.
You went back to rifling through the tapes before moving on to turn the knobs on the radios, and then check out the cameras. Some still had film in then, some were broken, and one was a folding Polaroid Land Camera with a processed photo next to it.
The image edged in white was of a magnificent gargoyle in a red rose garden with its head down and wings pinned to its sides. Chiseled muscles and clawed hands. The statue had long dark hair and wore what looked like a guitar pick on a chain around its neck.
"He's beautiful," you whispered, turning the photo over to see if there was any description on the back.
"He's a pain in my ass," Steve mumbled, slamming a few books into their respective slots on the nearby bookshelf.
"Why is that?" His annoyed tone made you chuckle, craning your neck to see where he went.
"Look at the photo again," he said with his back to you.
You did as you were told, struck with confusion to find that there was no longer a statue in the garden. You blinked a few times, thinking it might've been a trick of the light.
"Well, that doesn't make any sense. Where did it---"
"Now look behind you," Steve crossed his arms to lean against the bookshelf, waiting.
You turned, expecting to find another photo or something else besides...
Your blood ran cold at the gargoyle man standing an arm's length away.
He was naked, with lips the same slate gray as his skin, and his black eyes sought yours for reassurance.
"Eddie will you please cut it out?" Steve put his hands on his hips. "You're going to scare all of my customers away."
"Eddie," you cocked your head. "Is that your name?"
He offered one long nod, bowing his head to you, wings twitching.
"He won't hurt you," Steve assured softly. "He loves you as much as I do.
18+ONLY, smut, monsterfucking, unprotected piv, reader wears a dress, creampie, f! receiving oral, slightly public sex
word count: 1k
There were only a handful of public places you could be with your gargoyle boyfriend during the daylight hours, and one just happened to be a cemetery. You took walks and had little picnics at the one in town, holding hands along the rows like any normal couple would if they had graves to visit. It was rare for people to cross your path, but when they did, he'd literally make like a statue and freeze, wings pinned to his sides or expanded wide.
One day, a woman thought he was so breathtaking that she stopped to snap a photo of him, long dark hair flowing over his slate gray flesh and shoulders, face upturned to expose his throat, hands positioned to shield what was between his legs. Meanwhile, you were on the lawn a few yards away nibbling on some cheese, casually sipping your beverage.
You wondered what she thought his hair was made of. Plants or ivy, perhaps?
Come to find out, Eddie was familiar with quite a few instruments. He'd been a huge lover of music back in the day, back in his world. Picking up notes by ear on the guitar came second nature to him, and he'd brought the acoustic, obsidian Fender that was a gift from you on the trip that day. He offered you a few of the songs he'd been working on while you sat reading against a sugar maple tree near a few ornate headstones, yet far enough away not to disrespect the dead.
He had his new wire rimmed spectacles perched on his nose (pair number 22 since he kept breaking them) which worked in curious contrast with the pair of slightly curved, menacing horns coming out of the top of his head. He went through a phase when he wanted to file them down, to make them more palatable for polite society, but in the end, you were glad he changed his mind.
Near the spot you frequented was a collection of graves that no one seemed to visit anymore, and you talked with their headstones every so often, while Eddie loomed behind you mumbling about the fragility of mortals.
It was dusk by then, and the burial ground was empty of the living as far as you could tell. The early June air was crisp, smelling bright, a gentle breeze sweeping a few strands of hair across his full lips.
You'd transitioned to your back on a blanket in the grass, staring up at the gathering night through the tree boughs, when you happened to glance over and catch how beautiful he was. Propping up on an elbow, you inched your way over on hands and knees to plant kisses up the muscles of his smooth bicep as he held notes on the fret board, removing his glasses to kiss his eyelid.
"Hmm, do you not like this song?" Even at a whisper, his voice bellowed deep. Over the last couple years, his English had improved by leaps and bounds, and verbal communication between the two of you was coming easier. Learning his language, on the other hand, was still a challenge. It forced your throat and tongue to produce sounds that were utterly foreign in every way.
"No, I love it," you found his mouth with yours, stroking the leathery ridge of one of his wings as you went. "I was just missing you."
Eddie moved the guitar aside for you, and it wasn't long before his length bobbed like a bludgeoning tool between his thighs.
There were clothes in his wardrobe that you had made for him by sending measurements to a tailor in the city, but his outfit of choice was usually nothing at all.
Looking around before straddling his lap, you also scooped the top of your dress down so that your chest was bare against his, eliciting a low growl from him.
"Should we go home?" You asked as his strong hands palmed the meat of your ass. You prepared to secure your arm around his neck so that he could fly you up and out of there.
In answer, he sank the throbbing tip inside of you, making you curse into his mouth, shifting your hips to take more of him.
With foreheads locked together, he whispered vows of devotion edged with lustful, filthy promises that made your arousal drip down his shaft.
The way he took you was always animalistic but soft, pinning your hands above your head while he dove in again and again, making you whine, bucking up against him for more.
He was always insatiable, but never selfish. He'd pull out before he was finished to move between your legs and taste you, touching you, bringing you close with his forked tongue before entering you again, dragging out the inevitable burst of pleasure that would make you explode around him, white hot and blinding.
The breathless words of love seemed to accompany every thrust, but somehow it was never enough. You needed more of him, you needed to rip him open and bury yourself inside.
The first orgasm shattered you with a cry, watching his wingspan spread wide above you, blocking out any view of the sky.
"Look at me," he said in his language, just before locking his chiseled, stone pelvis to pour himself inside with a groan, staring into your soul, his seed dripping out with each additional pulse.
He moved down to lap you up, and you held tight to his horns, rolling through the aftershock with gasping whimpers.
In the distance, one of the caretakers paused with a shovel in his hand, wondering if his eyes were playing tricks on him. Was that a gigantic pair of wings he'd just watched expand in the darkness? The wind picked up, so forceful that he had to plant a palm on top of his head to keep his plaid newsboy cap on, training his pointed stare over the long stretch of headstones.
An owl hooted, more night creatures gathering in the shadows.
He blinked a few times, mumbling to himself. He'd go home and tell his wife later that after twenty some years in the business, he's sure he finally saw a ghost.
Betty my loveeee! First of all how are you! Hope you are doing well! i adore youuuu babe💗🥹
question, how is gargoyle!eddie
I miss him🥹💋
Mary 🥹 Gargoyle Eddie thinks about you a lot, and he misses you.
I've been scribbling bits into this next chapter for months, who knows if I will ever post it, but here is a little something for you my love:
18+MDNI
gargoyle!Eddie, a dollop of reader receiving oral
“Besides, I could never leave you forever,” you smirked. “I know you would find me.”
At that, he growled low in agreement.
“Tell me you’ll miss me,” you got up close and ran your hands up the smooth, defined expanse of his chest as he maintained eye contact down the end of his nose.
“You gone, I cannot protect," he snarled in broken English.
You opened your mouth, but before any words could come out, he shifted out of your grasp and took a few long strides, tail swishing behind him before landing with a thud on the ground.
“Do you want to come with?” You asked, watching the actively flexing muscles of his stone-grey back. “I’m sure you could perch up high on the building of the hotel I’m staying in, and no one would notice.”
He shook his head, and mumbled a few things in his language that meant he had “stuff” he wanted to do.
“Ok well,” you came up behind him and used two hands to hold the girth of his bicep, and then proceeded to pepper the smooth skin of his arm with kisses, but he still wouldn’t look at you. “Just remember that the maids come this afternoon. I don’t want you to get startled and kill one of them by accident.”
He covertly rolled his eyes at the way you reminded him of stuff as if he were a little kid, but he didn't want to let his pride get in the way of giving you a proper kiss goodbye. Before you could say another word, he took hold of your face to part your lips with his forked tongue.
The depth of his kiss pulled a moan out of you. “I can’t,” you whined. “I’ll miss my flight.”
“You can,” he said.
And then your pants were around your ankles and his face was between your legs. You clung to his horns so that you would not fall back off the edge of the couch while he devoured you.
What would a gargoyle human child look like…if one were to be born? Would it turn the human into one too? Or kill them…twilight style?
What a good question!
As a complication from his "curse", gargoyle Eddie cannot procreate, BUT if we are just spit balling, let me think....
There would be so many sharp edges and claws on that baby, I'd be afraidddd to have it inside of me, but I think it would be a gorgeous "hybrid" baby. The structure of a demon/gargoyle, with eyes that go black, but maybe no wings, or smaller wings, and no tail. But yes wait, maybe definitely wings because daddy would need to teach them how to fly 😭
But yes so, I'm going with hybrid. And down the line, eventually the descendants think they are fully human, but maybe there is this latent gene that expresses itself every other generation and that person can sprout wings and turn into a gargoyle at will. Like a Teen Wolf thing, but the grandpa notices the changes are happening and has to have "the talk" with them.
Gargoyle Eddie started out as a demon confined to a statue in a garden for centuries, but his journey with reader is just beginning when they break the curse with a kiss.
I woke up to a google doc I didn't remember starting that says: reader introduces her friends to Gargoyle Eddie when they come over for a Halloween party at the mansion.
Interesting.
Why is this giving me images of Agador Spartacus from The Birdcage?
BETTY LOOK!!!!!! i was looking for a bat squishmellow to keep me company while i drive (idk lol) and look what i found!!!! Gargoyle squish!!!! omg look at my battery life. 🤣
😫😫😫 I love him
and why am I having this headcanon now about how gargoyle!eddie loves squishmallows?
