#demon!reader

[nykie-love-anime]

Old Friends

Y/N: Aaaah Giyu Tomioka, my old friend Giyu: You tried to kill me just yesterday, are we really friends? Giyu: - looking at y/n his oldest friend that got turned into a demon - Y/N: That was obviously just my way of getting to know you again my dear old friend

Masterlist

[invincibledc]

۶ৎ 𝐈𝐍𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐈𝐁𝐋𝐄 𝐗 𝐍𝐄𝐙𝐔𝐊𝐎!𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑 ۶ৎ

♡！reader is gender neutral, that’s why there is female and male tags so this can be suited for any gender. There is no description of male or female anatomy. Reader is some random child Oliver found in a park and became friends over rocks.

literally being a demon who can’t come out into the sun sucks. Especially when they don’t know what they are. They’ve thrown rocks at before by some teenagers. They’ve gotten use to the pain, but what’s shocking is that one night when they can roam around, some purple boy that looks like their age had pants the same teenagers that threw rocks at them.

Their eyes sparkled seeing this, not even thinking. The pink eyed demon with hair that has flame-orange color at the tips. Humming loudly, the three kids jolted shock to see another kid out here. Oliver relaxed first as waved at them, they just stared at the purple hand before doing an eye closed smile and highfive him.

Oliver giggles, and that’s how you became his friend.

Sure he promised Debbie he wouldn’t sneak out no more… but his friend is out there in the cold! Who can’t even be in the sun. When Oliver seen their skin burned in the sun when he met them in day time. He panicked hearing their pained yelp, pulling them from the sun and into the shadows.

Never again is he letting you in the sun. But hey, he can always get you cloaks and steel his brother’s hoodies! They showed him that they can change their size. Oliver wouldn’t mind picking them up around in just a cloak looking like a blob as he flys around the city to show them things.

mark found out about the demon child when his mother informed him that his little brother snuck out again. Sighing as he flew around, he only hoped his little brother wasn’t causing much trouble.

There, he finally sees his brother.. but with some random kid with dyed hair and … pink eyes? Flying down, he had crossed arms staring at Oliver who looked shocked to see his brother. Oliver steps infront of his new friend.

“Mark!” He exclaimed, trying to keep his friend out of his sight. “What are you doing here?” Mark narrowed his eyes, “I should be asking you that. Oliver, you can’t just keep sneaking out. You’re worrying mom and myself.” He then leans to see the child staring at him. “Who’s that?” His stern demeanor disappeared to see those pink eyes stare at him gently. Oliver stepped aside, letting them walk forward.

“What’s your name kid?” Mark says, looking into their eyes before turning towards Oliver. “They can’t talk.” Oliver says, holding the mute’s hand. “So mute. Got it.. do they have a family?” Oliver shakes his head. “No family, can’t talk, can’t go out in Sun. But they’re cool! Watch this!” Oliver turned to you as mark raised a brow at the “can’t go out in the sun” part.

The child’s body started to shrink, looking like a toddler as Oliver picked them up and showed them off to mark whose jaw was dropped. That’s something… you don’t see unless it’s rae herself. “I..” “Can we keep them?!” Oliver said with excitement, the child gave off an eye closed smile. Their natural adorable face beaming at mark who stayed quiet.

“They’re not a pet Oliver, we can’t just keep a child.” “Not that like! Y/n isn’t a pet, they’re my friend.” Oliver glares at mark who held his hands up. “Okay then, what did you mean.” He places a hand into the purple boy’s shoulder. “Can we adopt them into our family… they can’t stay out in the sun. It… it hurts them!” His eyes held concern. “It could kill them. So, I thought that maybe mom and you can let them stay with us.. maybe forever?”

Mark looked at his half brother, and at the child demon who had puppy eyes that was definitely learnt from Oliver. Sighing and covering his face with one hand, he nodded. “We can try. But do you even know what they are?” Mark questions staring at you. Oliver groaned annoyed, “Does that even matter! Let’s go tell mom about them!” Oliver started to fly off with excitement. Mark could only sigh and follow his brother.

Welp, welcome to the family.

When meeting Debbie, it went kinda crazy with how mark finally persuaded her to let them stay. But Debbie soon felt calm with how you helped around. But when meeting the GDA, Cecil stared at the child weirdly. Pink eyes and natural orange flames tips hair? Sounds like trouble cause no one knows what they are.

Eve didn’t know how to express her feelings about the child. But she couldn’t help but coo at how affectionate they are. Always running to her when meeting the GDA and Guardians. Hugging around her waist, Eve smiled softly. They’re just a child that can’t handle their own problems.

If a ReAnimen were to try and beat onto mark, who the child immediately started being affectionate as well to. They’re getting their head kicked off. Rocking everyone in the room as they covered mark’s body. Imagine being saved by some demon. Crazy.

Mark gives them the reward of headpats, like keeping Oliver in check, helping him with patrols since they can clearly take care of themself.

If something were to ever try to harm Oliver, like you could try to be in disguise with Oliver when he would sneak out to help others.

Oliver and them always going out at night to specifically hang out. He even lets them meet those cool skating kids. He holds their hands when teaching them how to skate. Seeing their eyes sparkle up makes him feel proud to show them human things like this.

But oh boy, if it ever came to the point of where this small child or at least the same height as Oliver, were to smell blood. Then mark can understand why Cecil was suspicious of them. Seeing their body grow to look adultish or mature, body broad, pupils vertical. Mark didn’t expect to hold down a crazy blood thirsty demon. He talked the child he knew was inside them down, making them cry with apologies as their body shrank.

Next time, if the mission could possibly get bloody. He’s not letting them around the mission no more..

Them and Oliver playing footies, oh lord. Either they both are harming each other, or they simply can’t feel it. Mark has to stop that as the table was shaking.

Oliver always holding a small y/n around. Y/n doesn’t care, only for the fact that they like the body heat. Always sleeping. Oliver hates how y/n sleeps a lot, but at least it’s better than eating humans all day.

When they conquered the sun, oh boy Oliver was ecstatic! Immediately bringing them outside and playing tag, green light red light, maybe even catch! Oh boy he’s writing this all down as he kicks his feet happily. Finally, he can play games out but the day with them instead of night.

Don’t let the other marks see them. They never had a demon adopted sibling before, and they’re a man eating demon that can finally come out of the sun? Oh boy, this is a treat.

Oliver and y/n just always watching mark like Ducks. Like they follow mark like baby ducks and it’s so adorable to see baby vigilante/heroes following a known hero such as mark aka invincible.

Either less, Cecil doesn’t know if he can trust some man eating child demon that’s somehow “passive”. He’s seen how them can just grow and want to maul someone. They’re dangerous.

[iydiamartinx]

HIS SOUL TO GIVE

Reader x Jason Todd

divider by: @cafekitsune & @thecutestgrotto word count: 1.3k synopsis: Death wasn’t the end Jason Todd expected. In a frozen purgatory where pain and sorrow taint the very air, he meets a demon. She offers him a choice: rise… or shatter. All she wants is one thing—his soul. a/n: I enjoyed this idea so much more than I expected. warnings: talk of death, demons

When Jason Todd died, he had expected pain. Or maybe fire. Something to match the way he’d gone out.

Yet, that wasn’t what the afterlife was, it wasn’t fire and brimstone like the stories said. It was worse. It was cold. Bleak. A wasteland stitched together from sorrow and regret, where the air hung heavy with the taste of eternal torment. The horizon bled endlessly into a cracked sky that neither brightened nor darkened. There was no sun. No stars. Just the dullness of a world that had no end.

Time was meaningless in such a place.

The condemned wandered endlessly, locked in loops of their own guilt—some weeping, some silent, some laughing as they tore themselves apart, over and over, because they thought they deserved to. And worse, some who didn’t think they did, who clawed at invisible cages until their hands were nothing but bone and denial.

Jason moved through this realm like smoke through cracks. He wasn’t bound like the others. Not yet. But the place pulled at him. 

The land shifted with mood, bent to memory. One moment he walked through the hollow wreckage of Wayne Manor, its grand halls scrawled over with Joker’s laughter, family portraits slashed and bleeding—and the next, the concrete wreckage of Crime Alley stretching on endlessly, a tunnel of echoing gunshots and broken laughter, a cathedral of his failure. The ground was littered with rose petals. Or blood. It was hard to tell.

His final breath still echoed through the concrete. He could hear it—if he stood still long enough.

And that’s when she came.

The shadows peeled back like burnt paper, curling at the edges, revealing something that should not have been. A figure stepped forward—not a woman. Not really. But shaped like one. 

Her hair fell in waves like onyx fire and rom her temples curled a pair of horns—like a ram’s, black and ridged, adorned with dangling chains and strange, delicate jewels that chimed softly with her steps. Her skin was the colour of polished midnight, gleaming with a purple sheen that shimmered between starlight and shadow, as if she were carved from obsidian itself.

And her eyes—God, her eyes. Jason couldn’t look away. They shifted between gold and blood-red, as if lit from within by coals that had burned for centuries and had yet to cool. 

She walked barefoot, and the hem of her gown—dark as dried blood, light as smoke—dragged through the ash that coated the earth. If he listened closely, he could hear the whispers of it as it moved.

Jason was frozen at the sight of such a dark ethereal creature. He would’ve thought she was an angel if it weren’t for the large, bat-like wings looming upon her back, with sharpened points along the points. She was a creature from hell, fallen from the heavens he didn’t know.

Jason stood frozen.

The sight of her rooted him where he stood, breath caught somewhere between awe and instinct. A dark, ethereal thing—too terrible to be divine, too divine to be anything else. For a heartbeat, he might have mistaken her for an angel. But then he saw them.

The wings upon her back. Massive and bat-like, they loomed behind her. The thin membrane shimmered like oil slick, while the edges of bone curved into jagged, sharpened points at the tips.

No. She wasn’t an angel.

She was something fallen. Something cast down from a heaven he didn’t believe in, or perhaps risen from a hell he hadn’t yet learned to fear.

Every soul in this place was assigned a tormentor—and she was meant to be his. But the moment she laid eyes on him, she knew something was wrong. He wasn’t what she expected. The boy was young—no longer a child, but not yet a man fully grown, yet that wasn’t what made her hesitate.

His soul glowed too bright for a realm built on rot and ruin. It didn’t carry the weight of malice or cruelty. It wasn’t blackened by betrayal or blood. His was a soul marked by pain, yes—but not corruption. There was purity still lingering in him, one that had no place among dark and tainted. 

It shone like a beacon to the damned—calling to every dark creature that skulked through this realm, ones who would tear him apart just to taste the light in his bones.

“You shouldn’t be here,” She purred. Her voice was like velvet. 

The scent of his fear swirled through the air. But still, he lifted his chin, defiance smouldering behind such fierce eyes.

Her lips twitched with amusement.

He balled his fists. “Who the hell are you?”

She tilted her head, and the delicate chains laced through her horns gave a soft, musical clink.

“Names are meaningless things for mortals,” she said—voice light, almost bored. “But among the creatures of the dark, they hold value.” The edge of warning threaded through her words. A flicker of sharp white canines flashed behind her smile. “Still, if you need something to call me to soothe your pride, you may call me whatever suits your fear.”

She watched his throat bob with a swallow he tried to hide. Brave. But not foolish. He seemed to take the warning she gave to heart.

Her gaze dipped, and she stepped closer, leaning in just enough that her breath brushed the shell of his ear.

“You shine, little bird,” she murmured. “So bright, I’m amazed you haven’t been devoured yet.”

He tensed.

“You’re not like the others,” she continued, circling him with slow, deliberate steps. “The condemned cling to this place because they earned their suffering. But you…” Her voice trailed off as she came to stand before him again, head tilted slightly, gaze sharp and gleaming. “You’re barely tethered. You shouldn’t be here—which begs the question… why are you?”

She studied him in silence, eyes glinting with a hunger that wasn’t quite cruelty… but not quite benevolence, either. She wasn’t the worst of her kind. But she was still a creature of the hells.

Her question was answered as an unnatural green began to bleed into the blue of his eyes.

“Ah,” she breathed, a slow smile curving her lips. “That’s why.”

He gasped sharply, one hand flying to his chest as he collapsed to his knees. “What’s… happening to me?”

“Someone’s clawing at your grave,” she drawled, voice laced with dark delight, almost sing-song. “How lucky for you.”

Another cry tore from him as his hands flew to his head, fingers fisting in his dark hair. It felt like fire in his veins, like his mind was being ripped apart thread by thread.

Her smile faltered.

“How long have you been dead?” she asked, brows lowering just slightly.

“I—I don’t—” He choked on the words, barely able to speak.

With a sigh that rang with the weight of ancient boredom, she sank into a crouch. Chains and jewels clinked softly as she moved. With one sharp, lacquered nail, she delicately tipped his chin upward, forcing him to meet her gaze.

“It’s been too long. Hasn’t it,” She murmured more to herself, as she continued studying him. “The body may rise, but the mind will shatter. All that rage, all that passion and determination, all of it soon to be lost to insanity.”

“Please,” he whispered. He didn’t even know what he was asking for—relief, release, salvation—maybe all of it at once.

Her smouldering gaze narrowed, considering.

Then, she sighed. “You’re lucky I like broken things.”

She leaned closer, her voice smooth as sin.

“I’ll offer you a deal, little bird. I’ll give you strength—enough to rise again, without your fragile little mind devoured by madness. In return…” Her eyes gleamed. “I want one simple thing.”

She paused, savouring the moment.

“Your soul.”

A fresh wave of fire tore through him, stealing breath, breaking thought. He convulsed, the scream catching behind clenched teeth.

“Yes!” he gasped, eyes wild and unfocused. “Deal!”

A slow, dark smile curled across her lips.

“A kiss,” she purred, “to seal the deal.”

She leaned in. Her lips brushed his brow—warm and deceptively gentle.

For a moment there was nothing, and then suddenly Jason screamed as his body was consumed in flames of green.

[blossompencil]

Imagine this..

You're a demon working with an angel to watch over a human. You've been with this human since it's first breath, the angel as well.

Of course.. you're trying to get this human to do all the bad things. The angel, for years now, has kept them on the right path.

It was hard to tell, which was more annoying.. that the angel was good at their job or that you found it endearing how much the angel carried for this human.

One day.. your human gets sick. Really sick.. you can't help but worry. Your spade tail hasn't unfurled from between your legs as you and the angel watch over them from the human's bed side.

Human children get sick all the time.. this is normal.. but you.. you worry..

Your hand is clutching against your mouth as you watch your little human take slow breaths. You didn't even realize the tears filling your eyes until the angel wrapped their wing around you.

"They're going to be ok.." the angel promised with that soft voice of theirs, "It's a hard cold. All humans go through it."

"Mhm.." You find yourself leaning into their shoulder as your tail hesitantly wrapped around their calf. The angel rested their hand on your lower back.

The both of you watched over the small human. Though, the angel was clearly caring for you and the human..

You could suppose you were starting to care about the angel, too..

"The Dutchess of Darkness" by Artuš Scheiner

[scarlethexelove]

Little Devil

Pairing: Angel!Wanda Maximoff x Demon!Reader

Word Count: 2835

Warnings: A little bit of angry Wanda, Blood, Split eyebrow, Start of a bar fight, Cute date, Unexpected cumming, Not really much.

Pt 1, Pt 2

A/n: I need to give the biggest thanks and a whole like of credit to @wandamaximoffsbadgirl She was a major collaborator on this fic. Pretty much writing half of it with me. This is the prequal to Roles Reversed. I have for so long wanted to write more in this AU and with Ley's help I was able to fill in the parts I was struggling with. I definitely have many more thoughts to this AU and hope so share more soon. This is how the two cuties met.

NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN

The night is like any other, the bar is bustling with regulars and a ton of new faces. You own the best bar in town so it's nothing new, but you love it. The interaction with people and getting to do something you love. Wanda walks past the bustling bar but stops in her tracks when she senses that tell tale sign of a demon. What could they be getting up to in such a busy place? She has a bad feeling about this. Rage takes over as she makes haste into the bar.

You're laughing behind the bar with some of the regulars, leaning forward as you laugh at some stupid joke one of them told. You see the door open, rather than hear it, as a beautiful woman walks through. “Hey! Welcome to my bar! What can I start you with?” You call out over the voice and music. Wanda studies you, you seem too nice to be such a wretched demon. She doesn't answer which has you raising your eyebrow. “Whenever you figure out what you want just give me a holler.” You sling your bar rag over your shoulder and get back to some other patrons. Wanda takes a seat at the end of the bar and studies you. Her senses only point you out, but how is she supposed to confront you in front of all these people?

You feel Wanda’s eyes on you and try to ignore it as you get back into your rhythm. Moving around the bar and eventually when she doesn't order anything you set a water in front of her, leaning on the bar. “So what's brought you into my little hole in the wall?” You question the beautiful woman in front of you. She eyes the drink with skepticism and looks back up at you. “Seemed like a busy place.” Was all she said. You feel the hostility and anger pouring off of her. So you just give her a smile and a nod. 

As you notice you're running low on ice you let the other bartender know you're heading to the back to get more. Wanda takes this opportunity to follow you. You didn't notice her following you until you've been pushed into a supply closet. Her arm is pressed against your neck as she pins you against a wall. Her foot kicked the door closed behind her. “What do you think you're doing?” She seethes. You're confused until you catch out of the corner of your eye your tail nervously flicking back and forth. That is when it clicks, she's an angel.

You try to get out of her hold. Are all angels this strong or have you just grown weak? You finally decide it's no use and instead put a hand over hers. “Please calm down and I can explain.” You use your power of taking anger to calm her down. As she became calmer her grip loosened on you until you were able to lower her arm. “Listen, I came here to have a good time. I just want to run my bar and keep out of trouble.” You tried to explain and though her hand didn't come back up again you saw it in her eyes, untrustworthy. “Why should I believe in a demon like you?” She seethes. You raise your hands in surrender.  “Look, you can stick around and watch me if you like, but I have work to do.” You gently squeeze by her to not anger her more. You get the ice and head back to what you were doing. You feel her eyes following you all night. 

“Dude what the fuck!” You hear screaming as a fight breaks out. You quickly jump over the bar and make your way to the fight before it escalates to an all out brawl. You take a punch to the face, splitting your eyebrow, but you get your hands on them and take their anger and de-escalating the situation. “Break it up boys. If you wanna fight, it won't be in my bar.” Wanda almost jumps up as she watches the blood run down and into your eye, forcing you to close it. She grips tightly onto the bar as she fights her body on running to you. Once the two guys apologize and everything settles you head to your office with the rag over the wound, holding it. 

Wanda once again slips past and follows behind you. As you sit down in your chair she stands in the doorway. You look up at her from your seat. “Yes?” She rolls her eyes at how you fail to even help yourself. “Let me.” She takes the rag and forces your face up so that she can clean you up.

It's silent as she patches you up. “That was stupid of you.” You look at her bewildered. “Was I supposed to let an all out brawl happen?” Wanda huffs a little knowing you're right. “No, but you didn't have to take the punch…” She holds onto your face after patching you up. Looking over your features for a moment longer before you ask. “Do you wanna go out sometime?” It spills out of your mouth before you can stop it. 

Fear crosses your face as you realize what you said. You had never been so close to an angel. You had heard of their beauty but she was far more beautiful than you had ever expected. “You don't even know my name sweetheart.” Wanda pats your cheek and walks away with a wink. She takes her place back at the bar as you sit there dumbfounded. “Shit.” You mumble as you scramble back out to the bar.

You spend a good chunk of the evening stumbling over your words in front of her. As the night progresses and she talks with you she wonders why she was ever worried in the first place. As you stumble over yourself once more Wanda interrupts you. “Wanda.” Your brow furrows. “Huh?” You question. She chuckles at you. “Wanda. My name. You still haven't asked it.” Your face goes completely red as a smirk appears on her face. “O-oh...I'm y/n.” A chuckle rolls out of her mouth and you get butterflies at how beautiful it sounds. “I figured that out since this is ‘Y/N's bar’.” She reminds you and somehow your face turns more red.

As the night draws to a close and most people have left Wanda watches as you clean up. Her chin is  propped on her hand. “I'll pick you up at 7.” You look up from where you are cleaning. “W-what?” She chuckles. “For our date. I'll pick you up at 7.” Wanda leans over the bar and kisses your cheek before she walks out the bar. Her hips sway as your cheeks turn red and your mouth hangs open. But you recover running after her. “You don't know where I live.” You call after her. She turns around with a raised brow waiting for you to tell her. You ramble off your address for her before she walks away into the night leaving you shocked and excited.

You wake up excited and ready the moment your eyes open. As the day progresses you worry slightly which turns bigger and bigger as the time gets closer. You're all dressed up and ready as you pace back and forth. What if she was just fucking with you? What if she didn't actually want to go out with you? Wasn't she supposed to hate you? Angels and demons aren't meant to be together but what if you can. You have never been like the others, your brothers were some of the best out there but you loved humans, so maybe this would be okay.

7 rolls around and you are anxiously waiting outside for Wanda. To your surprise she pulls up in a red car. You don't know how she could look more beautiful but she does. “Wo-wow.” Was all you could stutter out.She smiles at you. “Come on get in I made reservations.” You do as told and get in. “Reservations?” You ask on the way. “Oh yeah I know the owner of this place. A really nice place and told him I needed a table tonight for a date. He happily found me a spot.” You blush realizing she had planned things out and your worries started to melt away.

When you get there your jaw drops in shock at the place. You have heard about it and how amazing the food is. You have tried to get a reservation for months and couldn't get in. Wanda sees your surprise and grabs your hand. “Come on pretty girl.” You can't help but blush as she pulls you forward. “Wanda you didn't have to.” You breathe out as she opens the door for you to head inside. “I wanted a sweetheart.” She walks to the hostess and whispers in her ear. You feel shy and awkward as you wait to be seated.

Wanda just met you yesterday and she was willing to do all this and all the nicknames and compliments had your head swimming already. Wanda is already loving how easy it is to fluster you. You aren't like any other demon she has met. So intriguing, soft, and she can tell so submissive. 

Wanda takes your hand again and leads you to your seat which is one of the best in the restaurant. She pulls out the chair for you which surprises you but you sit. She rounds the table and sits across from you. At first you're so nervous and shy but as time passes you start to loosen up. A very stark contrast to the person behind the bar last night. The conversations are easy and two hours doesn't feel like two hours as you finish a shared piece of cake. It's a huge serving and so sweet you almost feel it rot your teeth, but you loved it. The way her face lit up at every bite she was taking of it was worth it. You let her have the last bite as the waitress comes back with her card.

“Thank you Wanda.” Your voice is low and soft. You look down as another blush covers your face. Wanda hooks her finger under your chin to make you look at her. She has a soft smile on her face as she speaks. “You are so welcome detka. Now let's get you home.” You smile and nod. The both of you make your way out of the restaurant and Wanda drives you home. This has been one of the best nights of your life and you desperately don't want it to end.

When you get to the door of your house you chew on your lip a moment before asking. “Do you want to come in?” Wanda smiles sweetly at you. “I'd love to continue this date.” You can't help but get giddy and a little bit of a happy jump as you open the door. Wanda finds your excitement adorable as she follows you inside. Your home is very cozy, not something you would expect from a demon but it's so very you.  “This is very cute sweetheart.” You smile. “Thank you Wands.” You test the nick name a bit hesitant but when she smiles at you in approval it makes you that much more giddy.

You both get comfortable on the couch and start talking. Eventually the topic of your features comes up. “I'll show you mine if you show me yours.” Wanda says making you blush as your tail comes out, flicking back and forth slowly and your horns come out. Wanda does this, almost shake as her wings come out. Bright beautiful white looking so soft to the touch. You don't know how she keeps doing it but the more you see the more beautiful she becomes. You're hesitant to ask and you can feel your fingers twitch in a need to just feel them. She notices and smiles. “You can touch them if you like, but if you do I want to feel your horns.” Like most of the night your blush intensifies. “Deal, but uh my horns can be a bit sensitive.” You tell her.

Wanda raises an eyebrow at you. “Sensitive, hm?” She asks not giving you time to answer as her fingers brush lightly over them. You feel your body heat up, leaning into her touch as your mouth falls open, a small moan leaving your lips. Wanda bites her lip at the sound, a demon had never sounded more angelic.

Wanda is surprised by the softness of your horns. She expected them to be rough but the smoothness to them is nice as she runs her fingers up and down the ridges. As her fingers dance across them you feel your breath quicken as your chest turns the same color as your cheeks. It all feels too much but oh so good at the same time. Your mind is growing fuzzy at how good it feels. 

It had been so long since the last time you felt like this, but you knew this fuzzy headspace you were being put in. “W-Wands…” You manage out, your pleas going unheard as she carries on stroking your horns, your hot breath filling the space between you two and then it slips out. “Mommy please…” 

“Yes little devil.” Wanda hums her response but she is still so entranced by how beautiful your horns really are that she doesn't fully register the situation. And by the time she does it's too late. You let out a whimper and moan as you cum unexpectedly. Your eyes shut as your thighs tremble slightly. Wanda instinctively wraps her wings around you in a protective manner. It isn't until you feel her wings around you as you come down that it sinks in exactly what just happened. “O-oh my god.” You pull back from her. “I-I'm so sorry. Fuck.” You can't help but feel tears filling your eyes at the thought of ruining everything.

Wanda pulls you closer, her wings wrapping around you. “Shhh dorogaya you've done nothing wrong.” She soothes you by rubbing your back. You feel so warm and safe in her arms. You wonder for a moment if she could take your worries away because it certainly feels like she has. 

“I-I didn't know that would happen. It's never happened before.” You mumble against her. Wanda gently pulls you back so she can look at you, her wings still around you in a protective embrace. She cups your cheek and uses her thumb to brush away a stray tear that had fallen. “If I'm honest, I found that super hot.” You should be over her boldness by now but it still shocks you as your whole face heats up now. She can't help but chuckle at your current state. “How about we get you cleaned up and we can maybe continue this date with a movie? How does that sound?” You nod with excitement. “That sounds amazing Wands.” 

As you're about to break apart Wanda speaks up. “I loved it when you called me Mommy.” Everytime you think you're done blushing she's turning you a new shade of red. You can't even look at her as you ask. “Y-you did?” She pulls your chin back up to look at her. “Yes detka. I did.” A smile spreads across your face. Your tail flicking and hitting against her wings. 

Wanda leans in kissing you. You melt into her instantly. This must be what people mean when they say they felt fireworks. Your kiss with Wanda ignites something new within you. It's like nothing you have ever felt before. When you finally pull apart Wanda smirks at you. “Don't think I've ever made someone cum before I kissed them before.” You whine and hide your face in her neck as she chuckles, getting the two of you up and putting her wings away so as to not knock anything over as you two go to the bathroom to clean you up. Wanda is so good about it and helps get you out of the clothes you had picked out for dinner and into some comfy pajamas. You offer her some which she happily takes. 

The two of you decide to stay in your room and watch a movie on your bed. Wanda's wings coming back out and wrapping around you like a blanket. Wanda insists that your horns stay out even though you're worried about hurting her with them. She wants you to be you in your own home. No need to hide away or worry with her.  She has already made up her mind that she will protect you no matter what.

She never expected walking into that bar last night would lead to you but here you are. A demon like no other, the perfect missing piece to her puzzle.

[orellazalonia]

Misfire

Summary: Bucky Barnes accidentally botches a summoning ritual, leaving you, a laidback, powerful demon, permanently tethered to him and stranded in the mortal world. Despite his repeated (and often ridiculous) attempts to send you back, he slowly realizes he doesn’t actually want you gone. (Bucky Barnes x demon!reader)

Word Count: 2.8k+

A/N: Not going to lie, I like this, have been wanting to post this and turn it into something similar to Earth’s Mightiest Headache, exploring different one-shots/scenarios. So, hope you like it too. Happy reading!

Main Masterlist

You weren’t always tied to a former assassin with a vibranium arm and a perpetual scowl, but the universe or more specifically, a botched ritual in a Siberian bunker years ago, had other plans.

It started with a flicker of blood, a page torn from a corrupted HYDRA book, and a young soldier being pumped full of something more arcane than serum. One moment you were lounging in your plane of brimstone and blissful laziness, the next you were being yanked from your hammock by a summoning circle that was mostly duct tape and desperation.

You expected pain, fire, maybe war. What you got was James Buchanan Barnes blinking up at you through a haze of brainwashing and cold, his hand twitching as your eyes met. You didn’t know what he was. He didn’t know what you were. But something latched between you two that day, something binding and unshakeable. You were tethered. Not controlled, not enslaved. Just… summoned. A willing contract. He needed, you delivered. No price beyond your amusement and his begrudging tolerance.

Decades passed and the world changed, but you didn’t. You remained ageless, hellfire-forged and perpetually unimpressed, only appearing when the man muttered your name with that low, gravelly voice that always sounded like he didn’t actually believe you’d show up again.

Which is how you found yourself this evening materializing in a Brooklyn alleyway. Head-first, upside down because the summoning marks were crooked and Bucky had apparently done the entire circle while nursing a bullet wound and an attitude.

You blink slowly, lips parted with a lollipop hanging from the corner of your mouth. “Seriously?”

Bucky, crouched behind a dumpster with a gun in one hand and a half-burned spellbook in the other, gives you the driest look known to mankind. “You’re here, aren’t you?”

You land gracefully if a little exaggerated with a dramatic roll of your shoulders, licking your lollipop with purpose. “I swear, if I get stuck in this dimension for another twelve hours because you couldn’t align your candles properly…”

“I didn’t have candles. I used a car headlight.”

“Of course you did.” You pause, sniff the air. “And you're bleeding again.”

A hail of gunfire cuts off your commentary. Bucky’s head ducks down, jaw tense. “There’s twelve of them. Maybe more. And at least one has something enhanced, might be gamma-based. I need backup.”

You hum, amused. “You didn’t summon a demon for backup. You summoned me because you’re bored, stubborn, and refuse to ask Sam for help.”

He doesn’t deny it.

Rolling your eyes, you flick your wrist, and shadows creep up your spine like living smoke. Horns begin to shimmer at your temples, and a faint glow pulses beneath your skin, ember-like and ancient. You’re not even trying yet. You never do.

“One of these days, Buckaroo,” You tease, conjuring your flaming whip with a snap, “You’re going to learn that sloppy summoning has consequences.”

He huffs, shaking his head as he reloads. “Like what? And, don’t call me that.”

You grin. “Like me deciding to stick around longer than you want me to.”

He freezes for a beat. Then, finally, that half-exasperated smile slips onto his face, the one he only gives you.

“You already do.”

The air crackled as you stepped forward, boots barely making contact with the ground. Smoke curled around your ankles, licking the pavement with a life of its own. The alley reeked of gasoline, gunpowder, and bad decisions. Bucky was crouched beside you, gun steady, his vibranium arm flexed and ready. You, on the other hand, looked like you were headed to brunch.

“Right,” You drawled, stretching your neck with a soft crack. “Let’s ruin some asshole’s night.”

A bullet zipped through the air. You caught it lazily between two fingers and held it up for Bucky to see.

“See? Rude.”

Then, you flicked the bullet back but not with force or aim. Just casual indifference. It whistled through the alley and embedded itself in a tire, exploding the getaway car and sending two mercenaries flying.

Bucky didn’t even blink. “Still a show off, huh?”

“I live to impress you,” You said flatly. “Truly. It’s the fire in my hellish heart.”

Another wave of attackers moved in, and you rolled your shoulders, flames licking your fingertips now. You raised your hand and murmured something ancient and absolutely unnecessary, but damn if it didn’t sound good. The shadows rose behind you, a twisted mirror of your silhouette with horns like daggers and a grin too wide.

You let it lunge forward.

The screams started almost immediately.

You didn’t watch. You leaned against the nearest wall, arms crossed, licking your lollipop again. “So… who were these guys? Discount HYDRA?”

“Black-market bio-enhancers. Trying to harvest my blood for the serum or something again,” Bucky muttered as he aimed and fired cleanly into a crate of stolen weapons, blowing it apart with a boom. “Same old.”

“Wow. You get all the fun gigs.”

The shadow beast tore through three more men before slithering back into your chest like smoke curling into a bottle. You burped, loud and unapologetic.

“Charming,” Bucky said without looking at you.

“I try.”

As the last guy standing, a hulking brute with glowing green veins and a face like a blender accident, charged, Bucky stepped forward to intercept. But you held out a hand.

“I’ve got this one. You’ll break a hip.”

“I’m over a hundred years old.”

“And I’m over nine hundred. Sit down, whippersnapper.”

Before he could reply, you flicked your wrist. A sigil flared under the brute’s feet, and suddenly he was screaming about worms crawling through his brain and snakes in his shoes. You made a mental note to clean up the hallucination spell later… or not. Bucky stepped over him when he dropped like a sack of terror.

“Done?”

You dusted off your sleeves. “Darling, I was barely awake for that.”

Then you clapped once, then twice. The air didn’t shift. The circle beneath your feet didn’t flare back to life. Your tether didn’t pull you back to your plane.

“Huh,” You said.

Bucky turned slowly toward you. “What?”

You turned a slow, deliberate circle in place. “You really did smudge the runes, didn’t you?”

“I was bleeding on the floor!”

“Well now I’m stuck here.”

“How long?”

“Dunno. Could be twelve hours. Could be… forever.”

Bucky’s face did a slow twitch, that tick in his jaw flexing just a bit. “You’re telling me I summoned you wrong and now you’re just… living here?”

You grinned, wide and wicked. “Looks like it.”

A long, painful silence passed between you.

“So,” You said cheerfully, “what’s for dinner?”

-

Bucky had begrudgingly brought you back to his apartment, not wanting some creature from hell roaming the streets. Still, his place was quiet. Too quiet.

You stepped inside like you owned the place because, technically, at the moment, you did. The summoning mishap hadn’t just anchored you to the mortal realm; it had linked you to him. Wherever he was, you were. Until the tether corrected itself or until someone, somewhere, realigned the ritual’s symbols with fresh blood and an offering from a creature rarer than a virgin in Brooklyn.

In the meantime… he had a couch. And a mini-fridge. You could make it work.

You flicked on the lights, grinning when the bulbs sparked and then dimmed to a soft red hue. Much better. Cozy. Sultry. Slightly ominous. Honestly, you were proud.

Behind you, Bucky entered like a man walking into a trap. His boots hit the floor heavy, like he was bracing for chaos.

“I’m not sleeping in the same bed as you,” He said flatly, dropping his gear by the door.

You gave him a long, unimpressed look over your shoulder. “Darling, if I wanted your bed, I’d already be in it, probably upside down and lighting candles shaped like your face.”

He made a sound, part snort, part groan and walked past you toward the kitchen.

You helped yourself to his couch, dramatically collapsing backward with your boots still on and your arm draped over your eyes. “You should really invest in a fainting chaise. Or a coffin. Just something with character.”

“I live here, not haunt it.”

“That explains the IKEA furniture.”

He returned with a glass of water and eyed you carefully before tossing you a throw blanket. You caught it with a lazy flick of your tail, yes, your tail, which had recently reappeared now that you were in his domain long enough to let your guard down. It swayed lazily behind you like a bored cat’s.

“Are you always like this?” He asked, finally sitting in the armchair across from you.

You cracked open one eye. “Amazing? Gorgeous? Irresistible?”

“I was going to say annoying.”

You flashed your teeth. “Only to people who don’t drink enough coffee.”

He gave you a long, lingering look. Not distrustful. Just… weighing. Measuring. Then he leaned back, rested his head on the cushion, and finally allowed himself to exhale.

Silence settled between you in a comfortable, yet strange way.

Until the next morning.

Bucky awoke to the smell of eggs, cinnamon, and… sulfur?

He sat up, blinking. For one blessed moment, he thought it was a dream. That he’d hallucinated the summoning gone wrong. That he hadn’t found you were floating two inches off the floor in his kitchen wearing one of his hoodies and frying eggs over a small, hovering fireball.

“Morning, soldier,” You said without looking, tail flicking while you flipped an omelet midair.

He groaned, running a hand over his face. “You can’t just- what are you wearing?”

“You left me unsupervised. This hoodie is now mine. I’ve bonded with it.”

You passed him a plate like this was normal. Like you hadn’t just turned his microwave into a portal that whined every time it ticked down a second.

He took the food. Sat down. Stared at it.

“…You poisoned this, didn’t you?”

You sipped from a coffee mug that said WORLD’S #1 PROBLEM. “No, but I did enchant it. Every bite improves your sarcasm by 5%.”

He hesitated, then ate it anyway.

“…This is actually good.”

“Food by a demon. Duh.”

-

From there, it had only been three days since your magical mishap of a summoning, but for Bucky, it felt like three months. You were still there, living in his apartment like it was your damn vacation home in the mortal realm. You’d rearranged the knives ("for feng shui"), filled his bathtub with lava for “ritual skincare,” and replaced every mirror with ones that whispered compliments. (He only noticed that last one when he looked into the bathroom mirror and it said, “Nice ass, soldier.”)

This morning, Bucky woke up to the scent of coffee and a Latin chant being sung by a chorus of crows outside his window.

He sat up fast. “No.”

You were at the kitchen counter again, spinning a pen with your fingers, your legs up on the table. You were humming something eerie. The pen was levitating. The mug next to you floated lazily midair, steam curling from it in the shape of little hearts. You grinned when you saw him.

“Morning, sunshine. Did you know your neighbor is part-witch? She’s been feeding the crows again.”

He walked past you and downed half the coffee straight from the pot. “I’m sending you back today.”

You didn’t even flinch. “Sure you are.”

“No, I’m serious this time.”

“You said that yesterday. And the day before.”

He gave you a flat look. “You possessed my Roomba.”

“It was lonely.”

“You made it sing.”

“It needed a purpose.”

“I caught it offering tribute to you with screws it pulled out of my wall.”

You shrugged. “Devotion. I’m an icon.”

He ran a hand down his face and dropped into his chair. “Okay. New plan. We’re doing this my way now.”

You perked up. “Ooh. A ritual? Incantations? Should I get the chalk?”

He didn’t answer. An hour later, you were sitting cross-legged in the middle of his living room while Bucky flipped through an old HYDRA spellbook like it was a malfunctioning IKEA manual.

“You have no idea what you’re doing,” You said cheerfully, inspecting your claws.

“I’m improvising.”

“Your last improvisation got me trapped here.”

“Exactly.”

You raised a brow. “Are you trying to undo a summoning… with a reversal spell written in blood, translated through Soviet tech runes, and halfway burned through at the edges?”

“Yes.”

You blinked. “Hot.”

He glared.

With an annoyed grunt, Bucky began drawing the circle again. You watched, amused, as he did his best to align the runes correctly this time. He even lit some candles, actual candles, not headlamps or car headlights, and managed to keep from bleeding on the floor this time.

You were genuinely impressed.

That is, until he finished the final line and shouted, “Begone!”

You didn’t even twitch. You sipped your coffee. “Wow. Harsh.”

The circle flared once… then fizzled out with a sad little pop.

A single puff of smoke rose. A goat sneezed into existence in the corner.

“…Did you summon a goat?” You asked mildly amused.

Bucky stared at it, face blank. “That wasn’t supposed to happen.”

The goat stared back.

You sipped again. “You need help.”

“I’m not asking you.”

“Good, I wasn’t offering.”

He stood and pointed a firm, accusatory finger. “I will get this right.”

“I believe in you,” You said sweetly. “But if you mess up again, there’s a 50% chance I become permanently anchored to your soul and start aging with you.”

Bucky froze.

You grinned.

“Better hurry, soldier.”

-

The next time Bucky tried to banish you, he didn’t do it alone.

He stood in the middle of the Sanctum Sanctorum’s foyer, arms crossed, jaw tight, watching you twirl on the edge of the ancient rug like it was a dance floor. You were humming a tune that definitely hadn’t been heard in this realm since the fall of Babylon, and your tail was flicking in time with the beat. The Sorcerer Supreme was not impressed.

Stephen Strange raised a brow. “You’re sure you want me to banish them?”

“Yes,” Bucky said through clenched teeth.

You pouted from across the room, holding a glowing snow globe filled with miniature screaming souls you’d found on a shelf. “Banishing sounds so cold. Why not just ask me to leave?”

“Because you won’t.”

You gave a little shrug. “I go where I’m wanted.”

“You’re not.”

You smiled. “Yet here I am.”

Strange sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “You know this won’t be easy, Barnes. Whatever summoned them tied them to you. It wasn’t just a summoning spell, it was a binding. Old magic. Pre-human, even. You’d need a cleansing ritual, a blood sacrifice, and someone with actual consent from the demon to undo it.”

Bucky looked at you.

You smiled wider and sipped your milkshake you materialized from God knows where. “Nope.”

He blinked. “What do you mean ‘nope’?”

“No consent.” You grinned. “I like Earth. I like your couch. I like your goat. And, let’s be honest, deep down? You like me too.”

“I do not.”

“You made me pancakes.”

“I accidentally made too much batter.”

“You poured mine in the shape of a heart.”

Strange looked between the two of you, clearly rethinking his entire career. “I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that. Barnes, you have two options: perform the blood-cleansing ceremony yourself, or just… learn to live with it.”

Bucky was already grabbing the grimoire off the table, eyes narrowed. “Fine. I’ll do it myself.”

-

Back at the apartment, you were lounging upside down on the couch again, feet hanging over the back, reading a magazine you’d conjured yourself.

Bucky stomped in with purpose. “I need your blood.”

You flipped a page. “Buy me dinner first.”

“I’m serious.”

“So am I.”

You set the magazine down, tail curling lazily across the armrest. “You think getting rid of me will fix something? What, you afraid I’ll see too much? Get under your skin?”

“I don’t need a demon watching me shower and judging my coffee choices.”

You smirked. “I’ve seen worse. I was summoned to Nero’s bathhouse once. And honestly, your coffee isn’t bad. You could add nutmeg, though.”

He groaned and turned away, but he didn’t say anything else. He just stood there for a long moment, looking at the rune-drenched book in his hands, watching the way your fire didn’t burn his carpet and your presence didn’t wreck his walls.

You were a storm, yes. But a strangely gentle one.

Finally, he muttered, “…You really don’t want to go back?”

You rolled onto your stomach and looked at him properly. The grin dropped, just a little. Your voice was quieter. “Back there, I’m a tool, weapons. Some monster to be bartered and used. Here, I’m… just me.”

He met your eyes, and for once, he didn’t look away.

“Then maybe,” He said slowly with a sigh, like the words weighed more than his metal arm, “You don’t have to go.”

[vrtvyg]

Graves × Demon! reader

You know when Graves pops up, revealing he's not actually dead, that he wasn't in the tank.

Imagine he WAS in the tank, and he WAS killed. But due to the pact he made with Demon! reader years back, it's impossible to kill him.

Demon! reader, who kind of just spawns when he's about to die, taking a few hours to days to weeks to nurse him back to health before sending him on his way.

Demon! reader doesn't even want his soul in return for his protection, simply wants his body, his love. his... physical assets.

Anyways, that just came to my mind and I had to spit it out <3

[blackypanther9]

Gossip between Father and Daughter – Father!Alastor x Daughter!Reader

A/N: I decided to do this Oneshot/Headcanon for both, alive!Alastor x daughter!Reader and Demon!Alastor x Daughter!Reader. Enjoy ! (Picture belongs to rightful owner !)

TAGLIST!: @meg-giry1  @wen01203

WARNING!: mentions of the S word, name calling, insults, mentions of cheating, Vox and the other Vees get bullied in public AND MORE ! YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED !!!

Human!Dad!Alastor x Human!Daughter!Reader:

When you start to talk about new Gossip:

Alastor was cooking Dinner as suddenly you bashed open the door, scaring the living daylights out of your Father. He quickly looked at you and made a face to scold you.

“Mon ange (My Angel), are you planning to give your dear ol’ Father a heart attack ?”

You ignored his scolding and gave him a big grin with a twinkle in your eyes. Alastor got intrigued.

“You will NEVER believe what I’ve heard, Papa ! That is some interesting tea indeed !”, you announced happily.

Your Father cocked his head to the side in curiosity, his smile not leaving, but it shrunk in curiosity and confusion.

“Oh ? What happened, Cher ?”

You entered the kitchen fully, pulled out a chair, sat down and looked at him.

“You do know Felicia Monrue, right ? You reported about her last week in your Broadcast, because she got caught drunk, even though there was no giggle water (Alcohol) allowed and she had to pay a hefty debt as punishment.”

“Ah...yes, I do remember her indeed. Hoho ! Such a gal getting caught.”, Alastor laughed out in humor, “Couldn’t even hold her own liquor, hahaha !”

You nodded eagerly.

“Well guess what !”

“What is it, mon petit (Little one) ?”

You looked around the house, as if anyone was listening in, then bounced and gave him a big mischievous smirk.

“Rumors have it, that she was spotted a few times with different men on her arm. She brought them home and someone heard lewd noises, while one of her neighbors swore they saw her and the different men in her bedroom, doing the forbidden act ! Can you believe it ?!”

Alastor took a sip of water, which he promptly spat out in shock, as you said that. He stared at you, then looked at his glass of water, then at the food he was cooking, then back to you and back at his drink.

“Am I sure that I am drinking water right now ?”, he muttered in shock.

“You are, Papa ! Stop being so silly !”, you replied laughing.

He looked at you again.

“You aren’t talking nonsense, right, Dear ? That poor Lady surely could never do such a scandalous thing.”

You shook your head.

“I really heard it, from more than one person too ! It already goes around like wildfire, Papa ! One even said that they have a picture of it ! If this gets out into the newspaper, her clothes store will shut down forever !”

Your Father shook his head and looked at his food, sighing in disappointment.

“Such a fine Dame and no class... Didn’t her parents teach her any manners ? How scandalous !”

You shrugged your shoulders and gave him a grin.

“Maybe it is just a faux, Papa, but it would be entertaining if it was true ! Don’t you agree ?”

“It sure would be, Cher. Anything else you heard rumors about, hmm ?”, your Father asked you amused.

“Oh ! There are new rumors about the Bayou Killer too.”

“Oh, do let me know ! I’d LOVE to hear their theories !”, your Father said enthusiastically.

“Some speculate now that it is a butcher and others that it is a doctor ! How ridiculous is that ?!”, you said laughing.

For a second the kitchen was silent and then Alastor broke out into laughter and he shook his head.

“A-a WHAT now ?! Hahahaha !”

Alastor laughed so hard that he wiped a tear away from his right eye. You looked at your Father in amusement.

“Stupid, isn’t it ? They really think you are a Doctor or even a Butcher ! I mean...you kind of are a Butcher, but at the same time, you are not !”

Alastor snorted in amusement and continued to cook Dinner, while you told him all the Gossip you heard and he discussed it all with you, happy to listen to anything you heard.

When Alastor starts to talk about new Gossip:

You were just returning from a quick shopping spree with some groceries as you saw your Father with a huge mischievous grin on his face. He took a few bags from you and you both started to fill the kitchen cabinets and fridge with your catches that you got from the stores.

You knew that glint in your Father’s eyes. He heard something scandalous and amusing. You couldn’t wait.

As soon as you both finished, you entered the Living room and sat down on the couch, your Father sat down in the armchair.

“Alright, Dad, spill the tea. What rumors have you heard, hmm ?”, you pressed.

Alastor looked at you with one of his hugest smiles and started to chuckle.

“Do you remember Gwen Kosiak from my workplace, who quit his job not long ago ?”, your Father asked you.

“Yes. Why ?”

“Well my dear child, he was married and they seemed happy. Suddenly they divorced out of nowhere. Rumors have it that he cheated on his wife with the housemaid !”

You covered your mouth in shock.

“No way !”, you gasped out.

“Yes indeedy !”

You started to let out a chuckle.

“I would have never expected that from Gwen.”

“Me neither, Cher ! Me neither !”

You both chuckled and as it calmed down, your Father smirked.

“There has also been the rumor going around that the dress shop, you love to visit so frequently, is going bankrupt, because the owner of the store refuses to pay the rent !”

You stared at your Father gob smacked.

“Seriously ?”

All your Father did was nod.

“Indeedy !”

You leaned back in shock, then your face saddened.

“A real shame, guess I should look for a new favorite dress store then.”, you muttered.

“You definitely should, Cher !”, Alastor encouraged.

You could see that he wasn’t finished yet, so you waited for him to start the next section of discussion to gossip about.

“Also, Mrs. Tiana gave birth to her and her husband’s offspring ! The spawn looks nothing like them ! Hahaha !”

“You don’t think that she was going behind her husband’s back, do you ?”

“I think she was, Cher !”

“My, how scandalous ! Was it truly that bad ?”

“The child didn’t have their skin color, nor their hair color ! The child’s skin color was almost like mine and the hair was ginger ! Both of them were white and one had blond hair while the other had black hair. They both said that none in their Family tree had a different skin color, nor ginger hair ! So it just can’t be his offspring.”

You covered your mouth in shock.

“I never would have thought of Mrs. Tiana as a harlot.”, you muttered.

“None of us did, mon Cher ! Yet, here we are !”

The two of you continued to gossip and talk about rumors for a while. Alastor was always happy to listen, theorize with you and to talk about everything. He was almost like a woman, chattering about all the scoundrels that were talked about and you LOVED your Dad for that. He was practically both to you. A Mother and a Father. You never lacked anything.

In Hell:

When you start gossip:

Your Father was just about to wrap up his Broadcast in Hell, as you stormed inside. He looked at you startled, his Deer ears standing on high alert. As soon as he saw you, he rolled his eyes gently, scolding himself in his thoughts, that he got scared of you.

“Father, guess what !”, you announced happily.

Oh, he knew by that voice that you heard some gossip. He turned to you, leaving his broadcast on for now.

“What is it, Cher ?”, he asked.

“I heard some interesting tea about the Vees ! Wanna hear it ?!”

He perked up and looked at you highly interested. He snapped another chair into existence next to him and gestured for you to sit down. You did so eagerly.

“Now, what was that, Cher ?”, he asked, interested.

You were bouncing up and down on your chair.

“So, apparently Valentino and Vox are in a on and off relationship, just to screw each other, when Valentino’s harlots are too busy ! How desperate is that, Papa ?! Hahaha !”

Alastor, who sipped his black coffee, spat it back out and coughed into his sleeve from shock. Then he chuckled.

“That sounds pathetically desperate ! Hahaha ! I never thought that Vox would sink even lower than he already did !”, your Father laughed out.

“I didn’t know that Valentino was so depraved and pathetically desperate that he even fucks his own harlots ! Hahaha ! That just shows how unwanted he is !”, you laughed out.

“True, true, my Dear !”

“Oh, oh ! And have you heard that the Demon, Velvet dated, broke up with her ?!”

“Applesauce, mon petit !”, he yelled in fake shock.

“It’s true, Papa ! They apparently were dining in a restaurant and suddenly the man said that he is dumping her ass, then left the restaurant without paying too ! She left it, looking like a mess ! I bet the other two Vees had to coddle her to make it better ! HA ! How fucking pathetic for an Overlord !”

Alastor laughed loudly at that and petted your head, affectionately.

“Also, Vox tried to copy your Radio Station to make Radio Broadcasts himself, to grow bigger ! Can you believe how desperate that flat faced idiot is ?! Hahaha !”

“Is that so, Cher ?”, Alastor said partly amused, partly triggered.

“He tried to hide it from you too ! Sadly someone from his team snitched ! Hahahaha !”, you confirmed with laughter.

“Hmmm. Interesting indeed, Cher !”

“Also, some guests in Valentino’s porn clubs said that the hygiene in the bathrooms, of all the clubs, are so nasty that no one even wants to take a dump there ! Hahaha ! That insect is destroying his own image !”, you cackled out.

Alastor laughed at that.

“Well, what did you expect from a moth, Cher ? That they are clean ?”

“You would think his business and his employees means something to him, but it seems it wants to go broke soon enough !”

Alastor just chuckled and already planned how to teach Vox a lesson, for trying to take over Radio, HIS specialty.

The Broadcast went 30 minutes longer, discussing and gossiping about the Vees mostly.

After they finished their Broadcast, they saw that all of Pentagram City had a blackout. Welp, they fried Vox then with the other two Vees.

When Alastor starts gossip:

You both visited Rosie, just to catch up a bit and that was where everything went down. From a small pleasant exchange of how you all three have been, it turned into gossiping.

“My Dear, you have to be pulling our legs.”, Alastor accused Rosie in disbelief.

“I am not, Al ! I promise ya ! He really tried to eat her !”, Rosie insisted.

You just laughed and ate another finger that Rosie offered. You rarely did eat her treats that she offered, but today you were fine with it. Rosie knew about your picky diet swings, so she never felt insulted.

“What about you, Dear ? Any interesting gossip ?”, Rosie asked you.

“Oh quite some interesting ones, indeed !”, you replied.

“Oh do spill the tea, Dearie !”, Rosie said in excitement.

“Well, I heard that Zestial had three Sons and they are all down here. They say that Zestial hid them from everyone, because they are not very strong and he is ashamed of them.”

“Oh my...”, Rosie said in shock and intrigue.

Alastor was in slight shock and very interested in it.

“I will ask Zest about it tomorrow. After all we are supposed to meet up at Carmilla’s tomorrow. He is always there.”, you told her.

“Oh please do ask him ! I would love to know if these rumors are true !”

Then she turned to Alastor.

“And you, my friend ? What did you catch ?”

Alastor chuckled.

“A lot of people are starting to question Queen Lilith’s absence. Many say that she made a Deal with the Holy Gates. Others say that she got exterminated.”

“Hah ! As if anyone could kill our Queen ! She would NEVER agree to make a Deal with the Angels either ! How silly !”

Alastor chuckled and nodded, agreeing with Rosie, while you just shook your head in amusement.

“Also, it was rumored that Overlord Missi Zilla was seen with a lowlife Sinner, getting a bit steamy in an alley way.”

“No way !”, Rosie and you yelled.

“Yes, yes, indeedy !”, Alastor insisted.

Rosie leaned back.

“Oh my stars...”, she muttered.

“Who do you think it was ?”, you asked the two other Overlords.

“All I have heard was that the Demon Sinner was a bull. There was nothing else.”, Alastor chimed in.

“As if Missi would stoop that low.”, you scoffed.

“You never know, my Dear !”

And the gossip with Rosie and Alastor would continue for a long while, while you chimed in and shared your own gossip. You saw Rosie like a Mother figure and your Father didn’t mind it a bit. He was glad you liked Rosie.

You three Overlords would gossip for hours.

Alastor is a HUGE fan of gossip. You never know what interesting information you will hear, after all.

He would gossip with you, his beloved Daughter, like women would gossip amongst each other.

He would try and see if you were pulling his leg or not, but most of the times you were serious.

As soon as he got interesting gossip, he would immediately sit down with you and share, loving to bond with you over simple gossip.

He would always share a few laughs with you here and there.

He loves it when you have gossip/information about his enemies/victims. Somehow you just KNEW where and how to get the interesting tea ! He couldn’t be prouder !

He would never shut you down if you wanted to gossip with him. He would always listen and throw in his input/opinion on the matters discussed.

He is the perfect person to gossip with and so are you and Rosie.

I hope I hit the mark with this ! ^^'

(Words: 2 605)

Masterlist HERE !

[anonymousewrites]

One Hell of a Love Christmas Special

Sebastian Michaelis x Demon! Reader

Christmas Special

            “Ah, the Christmas decorations have returned,” said (Y/N), looking at the mess of bows and wreaths on the floor.

            Sebastian sighed. “Lady Elizabeth insists, and the Young Master cannot say no to her.”

            “And the mess on the floor?” remarked (Y/N).

            “Need I say the name?” said Sebastian.

            (Y/N) smirked. “No.” They already knew Mey-Rin had dropped the boxes, but the desire to tease never left them. “But shall we get to work? The sooner these are up, the sooner we’re free of this ‘holiest of holidays.’ ”

            “I wonder if demons decorating cause it to lose the ‘Christian spirit,’ ” said Sebastian.

            “We live in a world where humans focus on profit more than living and are willing to sell their souls for selfish desires,” said (Y/N). “I’d say they lost that a long time ago.”

            Sebastian smirked. “Indeed.”

            “But at least they’re enjoying themselves,” said (Y/N). “It’s so amusing to watch them entertain themselves.” They picked up a wreath. “And I would prefer to ‘celebrate’ this day in my own manner.”

            “May I join?” said Sebastian.

            “You would appear without an invitation,” said (Y/N).

            “Merely because I crave your presence,” said Sebastian.

            “I am quite captivating,” said (Y/N), smirking at him and winking. “So I’ll let you come along.”

            “I look forward to our evening, then,” said Sebastian, giving them a playful and flirtatious bow.

l

            Soon enough, the decorations were up, the food was cooked, the table was laid, and Lady Elizabeth was happily enjoying her Christmas with her family and Ciel. The servants were all kept busy, especially (Y/N) and Sebastian because they had to make up for any mishaps on Finny, Mey-Rin, or Baldroy’s parts and fit Francis Midford’s exacting standards. However, the end of the night arrived, and they were able to slip away for a moment on their own—their favorite time.

            “Good evening, Felis,” said Sebastian, drawing them in to kiss their cheek the moment the door of their room closed.

            (Y/N) smiled and leaned into his touch. “Good evening, Corvus. I’d say today was a success.”

            “Indeed,” said Sebastian. “You were elegant and poised as ever.”

            “I was taught by the best,” said (Y/N), trailing a hand down his neck and collarbone.

            “Were you? You must give me their name,” said Sebastian.

            “Jealous?” said (Y/N), turning away but looking coyly over their shoulder.

            “Perhaps,” teased Sebastian.

            “I have a remedy for that,” said (Y/N), turning back around with a bottle of wine and two glasses. “A drink.”

            “Food is rarely something I engage in,” said Sebastian.

            “Let me tempt you,” said (Y/N). “Did you know I can make wine myself?”

            Sebastian hovered behind them and wound his arms around their middle as they pouted. “You’re incredibly talented, Felis.” He kissed their neck.

            “I cannot remember properly,” said (Y/N). “But I believe I did so to celebrate Dionysus during the time of the winter solstice. It would go along with witch celebrations.” They lifted a glass, and he plucked it from their hand. “Witches drink to the gods that serve their purposes rather than obeying a single god in all things…”

            “And now you must only obey your desires,” said Sebastian, taking (Y/N)’s hand and turning them around. He took a sip of his glass of wine and lifted it towards their lips.

            (Y/N) had their own glass, but they indulged him and let him tip the wine into their mouth. They licked their lips afterward. “Precisely. I wouldn’t trade that for anything.”

            “However, I did learn of one tradition from the pagan practice that the Christians took that I am quite fond of,” said Sebastian. “Well, now that you’re here.”

            “Enlighten me,” said (Y/N), tilting their head.

            Sebastian pulled a small sprig of mistletoe from his pocket. “You kiss under the mistletoe, correct?”

            “I don’t remember that from my human life, but it’s possible,” said (Y/N).

            “Indulge me either way,” said Sebastian, leaning in.

            “You just want to kiss me,” said (Y/N).

            “Perhaps,” purred Sebastian, taking their glass of wine and setting it to the side with his. “But while the wine is delicious, I’d rather taste your lips.”

            “You flirt,” said (Y/N).

            “For you,” said Sebastian, closing the distance and kissing them. His hands tangled into their hair before one dipped to begin unbuttoning their uniform.

            “Merry Christmas to me, then,” said (Y/N), pulling him in by the lapels. “I get you all to myself~.”

            “For eternity,” said Sebastian, kissing them more fiercely than ever.

Taglist:

@technikerin23

@im-making-an-effort

@izzieg3987

@jinxxangel13

@alexpangender

@otomyoli

@neenieweenie

@nex-crowley

@anxious-chick

@bellacastiel

@v1l-ismissing

@agentdedf1sh

@iamsexytrash

@oceansfloor

@sarkzjam

@temporarilyablog

@elaemae

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@roo024

@ittomain1

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@alythewolf

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@cloberrii

@kniselle

@ray-rook

@yappydoo

@kitkatlover015

@snowy-violet

[sleeplessdreamer14]

[musicaljuice and demon! reader were separated for a long long time until Lydia found a way to get them back]

(Name): Stop being so stoic, Lawrence, go on. Shout, scream, say something!

Beetlejuice: (walks up to them, his hair purple with streaks of pink sprouting at the roots) … You’re as beautiful as the day I lost you.

[vampcubus]

Oh boy so this is what we’re doing now.

Demon!Reader biting Giyu when they fuck, and he likes it, but you’re usually just so careful with him that he wonders what he did so wrong to deserve it.

“You’re just so cute, it’s hard for me to not just eat you right up.”

-someone who most definitely does not have a name as silly as ‘lune.’ Imagine that.

i dunnooo you sound like my lune-y bear 🤨

:ఌ¨ ♱ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 : nsfw, sub!giyu, dom!demon!reader, biting, blood kink.

Just imagining riding him into oblivion. Pinning him down and taking what you need from him without mercy. Leaving him reeling beneath you. He's making a mess of himself, tears bubbling at the corners of his pretty sapphire eyes, a creamy white ring forming around the base of his even prettier dick from a previous release as you bounce on him.

The action that spells his doom is when he throws his head back, baring his pale throat to you as if you aren’t by all intents and purposes, a predator. Your mouth waters, saliva filling your mouth and before you can think to stop yourself, You’re lurching forward to claim your quarry.

Giyu shouts hoarsely at the feeling of your fangs piercing the flesh between his neck and shoulder, wine-colored blood dribbling down to pool at his collarbone. His cock throbs, his legs kicking uselessly as the harsh pang of pain mixes with the pleasure of your hole swallowing him. His first thought is that he’s done something to make you angry, and his heart sinks. But you haven’t slowed your hips in the slightest, and you’re lapping at his blood quite happily, caressing the length of his throat as you suckled at the wound.

When you finally pull away from his neck and see his dazed and confused expression, you can’t help but grin. You drag the tip of your long tongue over your blood-stained lips, catching any stray droplets. “Sorry, I just couldn’t help myself when you look so delectable beneath me, Gi.”

That’s all it takes for him to throw his head back again with a whine and blow his load, back arching off the bed all prettily as he pumps you full of cum <3

[klausysworld]

Sinful

Klaus had become, to an extent, addicted to sex.

The amount of time he had spent indulging in his deepest fantasies over the course of a thousand years was unbelievable.

He had learned how to please himself and others.

He was able to tell what people liked or wanted just by their body language. He was able to tell what their darkest desires were.

Some girls were shyer with what they wanted, they would make him work for it and tease him. Klaus learned to enjoy the chase, the game of catching the girl and finally unraveling all those dirty little thoughts and playing with his new toy until she was all tired out and used.

Klaus often could't help himself but ruin women whenever they let him. The knowledge that they were his to break and claim turned him on enough and it was so easy for a man like him to push their limits and get whatever he wanted from them.

Girls would fall to their knees for him. The image of legs spreading was permanently engraved into his mind and the sweet scent of sex always span through his head.

As the centuries past by, woman had gotten a lot friskier. Much more forward and confident which made Klaus's desires much easier achieved. Especially in recent years, it meant he had been partaking in many more types of play.

From being in sex dungeons where he was able to literally use woman as personal fuck dolls to having someone restrain him and use him in return. There was very little Klaus would ever not do. There was also very little Klaus had not done aalready.

It was because of this, all this experience that he knew a girl like Y/n when he saw one.

She had been eyeing him as though he were nothing more than a piece of meat for her to sink her teeth into and as he trailed his eyes over her, he found himself doing the same back.

Y/n was what Klaus would call 'sex on a stick'.

She was gorgeous, flawless actually.

Legs long and toned, ass firm and round, waist tight and slender, breasts ample and tender, neck utterly delicious and biteable attached to a borderline angelic face.

But Klaus knew that she was no angel. No this girl was surely hand carved by the devil himself, utterly sinful.

Her eyes were dark under the dimly lit club lights. Admittedly Klaus had come there hoping to find someone to satisfy his needs but he hadn’t expected to be graced with a seductresses presence.

He looked right at her, soaking up the feeling of her attention. There was something daring about her gaze as though she were taunting him, testing to see if he would come over to her. Klaus didn’t bite the bait very often, he preferred for his women to come to him however he also knew how quickly someone like her could be snatched up.

Especially when he glanced around the club and noticed the other eyes she had on her.

He wouldn’t risk the opportunity to taste a treasure like her.

However when he moved to sit beside her, she pulled herself up and walked away from him. Klaus’s eyes narrowed in both annoyance and intrigue at the challenge as he followed her.

His hands slid up her hips and abdomen as she began to move along with the crowd in the centre of the room, the dance floor. Her body moved so smoothly that he could only imagine how well she could ride a man, how good her thrusts were. As her skin began to shine with heat, he pulled her closer to his body so that her squeezable ass could grind against his hard cock through his jeans.

Her head leant backwards until the back of it rest against her shoulder and he was presented with the site of such a delicious looking neck. Her hot breath tickled his ear in a way that sent shivers along his spine and made his hips press forward again.

His lips began to latch onto her skin, sucking and nipping up her throat slowly. A little giggle vibrated through her body as she kissed his ear teasingly and pulled her neck away from his mouth. A low growl left his chest and his hands gripped her body in need and possession.

She shifted round in his hold to face him. He pulled her right up close, squishing her breasts against him and sliding his hands down to her ass.

Klaus leaned forward so his face hovered just over hers. The music made it difficult for her to hear him but she watched as his lips moved. Eventually he spoke up, “I want you” he told her firmly and she laughed.

“You and everybody else” she answered, a taunting smile on her lips as she moved backwards but he wouldn’t let her get away from him. She was far too good to lose.

Klaus rolled his eyes and tugged her back to him, “Come on sweetheart” he hissed into her ear, his hands squeezing the firm flesh of her ass before kneading it. Y/n took slight amusement in her ability to have men all over her in the matter of seconds. Especially a man like him.

Someone like Klaus would get what he wanted, Y/n wasn’t a fool to that and she saw no bother in dragging it out too long but still, it was fun to watch the desperation set in.

She could feel how hard he was, how badly his body wanted her. Naturally she rubbed herself against him, allowing him that slight satisfaction to make his grip tighten further.

Y/n let out a little moan as the pain of how aggressively he held onto her ass, the mere idea of the things this man would do to her was enough to make her want him too.

Klaus responded to her display of pleasure and smacked her ass harshly to hear her breathy moan beside his ear. He breathed in the rich scent of her blood that pumped just below her silk-like skin.

The music vibrated through both their bodies as Y/n continued to move against him and welcome his eager hands as they groped and grabbed at everything she had to offer. Klaus slid his hand up to her throat and squeezed until he heard a sound of approval making his lips pull into a cruel smirk. He knew she was going to be something special.

Y/n could feel the delightful buzz of alcohol fuel her confidence as she brought her hand to cup his cock through his trousers. She caressed him firmly, enjoying how his hips ground back against her touch and his head tilted back in pleasure. Slight amusement made her lips twitch to a smirk as she squeezed his erection.

It took every ounce of control left in Klaus not to fuck her in front of all those people. Not to push her down onto her knees and fuck that perfect face until her vocal cords stopped working.

Fortunately for him Y/n could read his thoughts very well and slid her hands back up his body. She cupped his neck in her hands and smiled at him, her red lips curling enticingly.

"I hear there's a nice hotel a few streets over" she whispered, eyes shining with desire. Klaus nodded faintly, holding onto her hips as she lead them out of the club.

The cool air soothed his boiling body for a moment and he was able to think a little clearer. He pulled her flush against him making her squeal and stop walking, placing her hand on his chest and giving him a questioning look. Klaus, however, didn't have anything to say. He just desperately wanted to see her face in the moonlight, to feel her right there and then. Her hand felt like pure sin as he leant into it. Everything about her was sinful. And he loved it.

Y/n could see everything flashing through his eyes and slowly continued to guide him towards the block of hotels. Klaus was barely aware that his feet were moving as he felt all along her curves, stroking and squeezing as much as he could. Eventually they got into the building and after almost losing it and nearly taking her against the elevator wall, they got into a room.

Klaus finally let the animal in him out to play when they got inside. Her body was handled roughly as he threw her onto the bed and pinned her down with him on top of her.

Y/n laughed softly and ran her fingers through his hair as his lips and teeth attacked her jaw and neck. She laid back willingly and pet the beast that was so desperate to ravish her.

Her feet shifted to kick her heels off before she lifted one to press against her crotch, offering something for his throbbing cock to grind against. The contrast between his roughness and her softness stirred so much within him. Klaus couldn't help but tear the dress right off her body.

Y/n rolled her eyes to herself, wondering what she'd wear when she left in the morning but pushing the thought away when his big warm hands cupped her tits. His palms rolled over her nipples, before the heat of his mouth tugged at them.

"Fuck" she whispered breathily, her hand pushing his head encouragingly. Klaus had his eyes closed so she wouldn't see the wolf behind him as his tongue flicked over the hardened bud before switching to the other. His find could only imagine how gorgeous she would look with his cum splatted all over her tits. His hands squeezed them painfully as he pulled off her nipple with a loud 'pop'.

"I want to fuck these" He murmured, a growl to his voice that send a wave of warmth between her legs. Her hand lifted his chin, nails denting his skin as she pulled him up to kiss her lips at last.

They both moaned in unison as their tongues danced and played tauntingly at the other. Her fingers worked his clothes off his body, wanting him bare for her to touch and admire.

He pulled away from their passion as her hand tugged at his cock, he hadn't known himself to get quite so hard before. To the point where it pained him, he had to restrain himself from jerking himself off right then just to soothe himself. He knew if she tried to tease him that he wouldn't be able to help but cum. She knew it too.

Her hand stroked him firmly, once, twice, three times before he came with a loud guttural moan. Her humour filled laugh made his gut twist with humiliation but he couldn't overthink it. All he could think about was her.

"I hope you have more left in you" she teased and his skin blushed red as his wolf raged under the surface. He could see that she expected him to get embarrassed and defensive so he tried especially hard not to. Instead he simply rolled his eyes and pulled her against him again. His lips moulded back against hers and his hands caressed down to her hips.

"Don't mock me yet sweetheart, you won't last much longer than I" he muttered, brushing his fingertips over the soaked lips of her pussy. Her moans were like heaven and hell twisted together and he lusted for more of them.

The pad of his thumb caressed her clit slowly to begin with, teasing and spreading her wetness before a finger sunk into her. Y/n's eyes went back into her head and her teeth bit into her lip as she rolled her hips to feet his touch. The tightness of her cunt made his cock twitch again while his fingers worked her up.

"You like this sweetheart?" He murmured as his knuckles bent inside her and he stretched her with a second finger. Y/n nodded with a moan, bucking her hips to feel the delightful friction against her clit. "Your pussy feels so soft" He mumbled, more to himself than her but she still her heard him.

A breathless laugh left her as he pumped three fingers inside her, his eyes locked onto the way her cunt wept for him and the way her clit pulses with need. His thoughts blurred together as his hand sped him, effectively fucking her until her nails clawed at the sheets as her walls spasmed around his fingers. His breathing was as heavy as hers as he lifted his fingers to his lips and licked her fresh orgasm off of his skin.

Y/n was looking up at the ceiling, panting as she calmed down only for his hot tongue to press against her cunt. She cried out in pleasure, legs spreading for him to fully indulge himself between them.

He lapped at her like a man starved, his tongue curling passionately until the familiar taste of her cum filled his mouth again.

Y/n pushed him onto his back, kissing his lips deeply and forcing a groan out of him. Her hands caressed up his body to his chest. He grunted and his back arched when she sat on his cock, her pussy swallowing it whole.

"Fuck- angel!" he moaned and Y/n let out a soft laugh as she slowly rocked her hips, getting familiar with the feel of his dick inside her.

"Don't call me that" she whispered and he grunted, bucking his hips up in time with hers so that smack of their skin could be heard.

"Why not, angel?" he muttered, a little amused until his eyes locked onto hers.

Y/n's eyes were entirely black when he looked into them, in response his went gold against his will and a choked groan left him as she bounced faster on top his cock.

"Because I'm not an angel" she told him, her voice much lower and almost smoky as her words sunk in.

Klaus had no time to react before her teeth were in his throat.

An ironic turn of events for the hybrid as the demon fed on his soul.

Klaus's mind was a haze for the following hours though he was vaguely aware of what he was doing and the pleasure she was giving him.

The feel of her wicked tongue wrapped around the head of his cock was burned into his memory. Her pussy took him time after time again until they were both trembling with overstimulation.

Eventually they both passed out.

He woke a while later, when the sun was high in the sky.

He was laid beneath the covers with Y/n tucked to his chest. Visions of her true form flashed through his head and a slight feeling of fear mixed with the prominent intrigue he felt.

His body was heavy, too heavy for him to get up and he truly had to wonder what she had done to him and what she planned to do.

When she woke, she behaved as though it were a normal one-night stand. She smirked at him as he watched her get changed from the bed. Before she left she came to his side and stroked the side of his face, her touch so hot that it sizzled his skin,

"Don't worry Niklaus, your strength will restore" she whispered and his brows pulled together when she uttered his name though his heart sped up at her following sentence; "When I feel that you're ready, I'll find you again." She warned him as she kissed his lips and left.

[angelackless]

MESS ME UP

Dean Winchester x demon!reader

DEAN KNEW HE SHOULDN'T HAVE DONE IT, HE SHOULDN'T HAVE KISSED YOU YESTERDAY, YOU WERE A DEMON FOR GOD'S SAKE. He doesn't do relationships anyway, he is not that kind of guy,right?

Everyone around them was aware of how the two of you just avoided the other like a plague, but it was Sam who had enough of it, mainly because the two of you now wouldn't even wanted to work together on the hunts, so he did what everyone would in those stupid romcoms that you watched and enjoyed for some reason, trick you to into the same room and lock the door, and that's what is happening now.

"Sam, if you won't open the door, i'll break it down and then I break your neck and your stupid face and God won't even recognize you!" You hit the door with your fist, Dean just leaned against the wall and watched you with a smirk on his face.

"Sweetheart, that won't do anything" Dean stepped closer to you "is it that bad to be in a room with me?"

"after you've told me that our kiss was a mistake?Yeah,I don't want to be this close to you,Dean!" you snapped at him, Dean's smirk fell and he bit down hard enough on his bottom lip to almost make it bleed

"look I..I didn't meant it like that, (y/n)" he stepped closer and his hand found it's way to rest on your waist "I am just scared shitless of commitment, of how I would feel more vulnerable if I have something to lose,other than Sam of course" he looked into your eyes for the first time since he started talking "because I know if anyone, you could mess me up"

"Dean-'' you opened your mouth but he cut you off

"I rarely feel like this toward anyone,but whenever i'm with you I feel like I'm whole,and I feel the need to protect you,to let you know that I love you" his voice cracked "because I do, and it scares the hell out of me be-" he didn't get to finish his sentence because you pulled him down for a deep, loving kiss. His hand gripped onto your waist like he was afraid you could disappear any given minute when he is not touching you.

When you pulled away from him, he was staring at you with puppy eyes,lips parted and out of breath.

"I love you too" you spoke up "it scares me too,but..I want to try this with you, I want to be with you,Dean" your fingers caressed his cheek, his eyes closed as he leaned into your touch

"then let's try it" he said "let me show you that I want this,that I love you more than anything"

"more than you love pie?"

"maybe, you're at the top three for sure" he chuckled and pulled you closer to him, wrapping his arms around your waist in a tight grip "you're my favorite, you little devil"

[invincibledc]

THE DEMON’S MONSTER

Summary: a monster from hell arose from the ground. Roaming the city and streets of Gotham became an adventure when an assassin get intrigued by its special appearance.

DAMIAN AL GHUL WAYNE X DEMON!READER

Warning: slight yandere behavior, violence mentions and behaviors, blood mentions.

A small demon child, an imp, a monster. Whatever you can call its being as it had a stolen hoodie from a homeless person they killed. Blood stained the blue shirt, but not their skin as it was already red enough. Wherever or whatever the demon was summoned into, they smelt sin around this place. And it lingered as the demon scoffed.

“What a sinful place to be reckon with.” Is what the demon thought.

But oh they just had to run into trouble when an assassin caught a glimpse at what was walking around Gotham city.

Running. Running. Running. Running. Running. That’s all it did until it fell to the ground. Heaving and its head spinning rapidly as their golden eyes sees a shadow moving quickly. They got up quick again, running for what seemed forever. Making it feel like purgatory. It felt like they never escaped hell as they went around the corner to see the small figure there.

They turned around quick, hoping to lose sight of whatever was chasing them. That was before they felt ninja stars slash the red skin of theirs. They let out loud roar or pain before trying to find a way to hid.

That was before they felt they got tackled to the ground, feeling a sharp object get pressed against their back. “No! No! I’ll obey, leave me alone mortal human. I have no source for you to take of me.” The demon pleaded with a demonic voice mixed of a man and woman.

“So, you’re practically a pet without its humble owner���” he says with dark emerald eyes. The demon gulps, sensing the young child’s aura. The aura contained, anger, vengeance, pride, and obsession. The boy takes his katana out, putting the flat part under the demon’s neck with a cruel smile.

“Let me be the humble one to take you in as my own. My demon.” The smile showing his toothy grin that reminded the demon of Satan itself. The demon shook in fear as its eyes looked down to the ground.

What has it gotten itself into…

[scarlethexelove]

To Hell And Back

Pairing: Angel!Wanda x Demon!Reader

Word Count: 1485

Warnings: Kidnapping (Wanda), Demon!Ex, Stabbing (Non descriptive), Torture (Non descriptive), Reader beating the shit out of Demon!Ex, Angst, Comfort, Uhhh idk

Pt 1, Prequal

A/n: More Angel!Wanda and Demon!Reader say what. This is what would happen if Wanda is kidnapped and taken to Hell. Reader goes a bit crazy. Thank you again to @wandamaximoffsbadgirl indulging in my love for these 2. Honestly I got a little lazy and used a gif.

NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN

You knew something was wrong when you hadn't heard from Wanda all day. Then, it came through an unknown number. A picture of Wanda, tied up, beaten, and in hell. All of the air in your lungs escapes when you see her. What was once beautifully white and soft, her wings dirtied with blood and dirt. You can feel the rage building within you. You had to go find her. Your tail and horns coming out. Your tail flicks back and forth as your eyes shift to a cold blue. You don't think as you march out of your home. 

You know a hidden portal is situated just a few miles from your home. You take off running as fast as you can in the direction of the portal. Leafs crunch under your feet as you make your way through the woods until you reach a cave. The cave is damp and musty and mostly dark until you see the flickering light of the portal. You take no time jumping through.

As you come out the other side, you look around, getting your bearings. You know this place. It may have been hundreds of years since you've seen it, but it's familiar. You pull your phone out and examine the photo again. Hoping a second look gives you a clue on where in hell Wanda could be. You look but it looks the same as any other part of hell, bleak and dreary. You give up on looking at the photo and instead start searching. You felt your blood boiling over and it wasn't from the heat.

Anger that you suppressed for hundreds of years hidden underneath the surface. You stalk through the area looking for any sign of Wanda. The underworld is vast with many twists and turns. It soon feels like you have been searching for hours. Hope is dwindling. What if you never find Wanda? What if you're too late? 

You feel like you'll never find her when you feel it, feel her. You spin in the direction you're being pulled and run, faster than you thought possible. The feeling gets stronger the closer you get. The anger that had been growing slowly morphs into relief. You can feel her. You can still feel her. Your body collides with the door where the pull is the strongest. The door shatters as you stumble through.

When you see her, you can feel the rage bubbling over. You shift your focus to the demon in the room. Eyes narrowing and head tilting to the side. Of course it was your ex. She always hated you for leaving all this behind, and getting together with Wanda must have been her final straw. Without so much as a thought, you lunge at her. She's able to dodge you. You turn on your heels. Your eyes flash that cold blue. “Delphine.” You growl. This time, you're quicker as you're able to tap into all the rage you've consumed. Your body collides with hers, sending her flying into the far wall. 

Delphine seems to be knocked out, giving you the chance to run to Wanda. “Wands.” Your voice cracks. Her eyes shift to yours. She looks up at you, battered and bruised. “You must have put up one hell of a fight, angel.” You gently stroke your thumb of a bruise on her cheek. 

“Wasn't gonna let some shitty demon just take me.” Wanda smirks at you, another wince coming out.

“Let's get you down, baby.” You can still feel the rage just below the surface, but your Wanda is more important. You're able to release Wanda, catching her in your arms before she collapses. 

“Y/n watch out!” Wanda yells. You catch a glimpse of Delphine out of the corner of your eye. You're able to push Wanda out of the way before feeling a sharp pain in your back. 

You cough up blood. The rage fueling you once again, your voice deepening. “You never did know when to quit.” You turn quickly, getting into it with Delphine. Blows exchanged as you manage to get on top. Keeping her down. Your hand wraps around her throat as you start to use your grip on her throat to slam her head into the ground. But her hand is able to snake around, digging her finger into the wound. You cry out in pain, giving her a chance to gain control again. 

“You're mine.” Delphine seethes.

“You're fucking insane if you think I'm yours. I wasn't even yours when we were together!” You spit back at her. The white hot pain from your wound screaming at you. Your fist connects with her face. A bloody sinister grin spreads across her face. Which sends you into a rage. You continue to land blow after blow. She isn't able to stop you. Your eyes flicker from blue to red. Wanda watches as the tips of your horns and tails start to stain black. 

Wanda doesn't think about it as she runs forward. “Y/n!” She practically crashes into you. “Stop, please...this isn't you...you aren't like these demons. Don't let them take that from you.” You looked back at her over your shoulder. You see the tears run down her face, voice cracking. “Please Y/n…”

The sight of your tail passes in your vision. The blackened tip paired with Delphine coughing up blood terrifies you.  You crawl back getting as far away from Wanda and Delphine. Tears spring to your eyes as you look down. Your hands stained red start to shake. “No! No! No! No!” Panic fills your voice, the tears that threatened to fall now cascading down your cheeks. This isn't you. This is everything you didn't want to be. You worked so hard to not be This. To be like them. You wanted to help people not hurt...you certainly didn't want to kill anyone.

“Detka?” Wanda moves closer to you, you shake your head. 

“N-No, get away from me. I-I don't want to hurt you.” Your voice breaks as you pull your knees to your chest. You wrap your arms around yourself as you continuously mutter, I'm sorry. Wanda's heart absolutely breaks seeing you like this. Even though you've told her to get away, that's the last thing she's about to do. Instead she pulls you into a hug, her wings coming out to wrap around you just like your first date. 

You sob into Wanda's chest as she holds you. You should be the one comforting her, but here you are. She shushes you as she holds you tight. She watches as the black slowly fades back to white. “I'm sorry Wands.” You choked out, and she shushes you. 

“No detka it's okay. What just happened is different. You were protecting me. If it meant protecting you I'd do the same thing.” Wanda tells you. You sniffle as you look up at her. Though beaten and bruised, she is still the most beautiful woman you have ever seen. She sees how your eyes shift back to blue before they go back to your normal color. 

Before the words come out of your mouth, Wanda blasts Delphine back in a white light. She hits the wall hard, knocking her unconscious or at least that is what you think. Wanda lifts you in her arms, letting her wings spread out. “Let's go home detka.”

“I'm the one who should be carrying you.” You whine a little. 

Wanda chuckles and then winces slightly. “Sweetheart, you've been stabbed. Also, I don't see you with any wings.” You pout, thinking about it, and grumble a bit. “That's what I thought.” Wanda flapped her wings. “You're gonna have to guide me back, though.” Wanda says with a smirk. You giggle a bit before getting both of you out of hell. 

By the time you're home both of you are exhausted. Wanda obviously fusses over getting you patched up first, having seen the blood stain on her wings. When she is done she finally lets you help her before you both get cleaned up. Crawling into bed and curling up together. 

You end up falling asleep first. Wanda lets her wing stay around you, propped up on her side. She gently strokes your face, moving some hair out of the way. She kisses your forehead, letting her lips linger there. “I love you so much, my little devil.” She pulls back to look at the peaceful look on your face. "I'd kill anyone who dared stand between us. God or Satan couldn't stop me. If it meant keeping you with me, I'd do it without a second thought.” She strokes your cheek. 

Wanda uses her wings to pull you closer, wrapping her arms around you tightly. Her wings provide a safe cocoon as she settles in. Soon she follows you into the land of dreams. Peacefully drifting off holding you tight.

[orellazalonia]

Sinful Devotion

Summary: You slip into Father Bucky Barnes’ church with a smile too sweet to be safe, hiding horns behind charm as you volunteer, help the children, and slowly worm your way into the hearts of everyone but him. While the others see you as a blessing, Bucky watches warily; because no matter how good you act, he can feel what you are... and he's starting to wonder why he doesn't want to stop you. (Priest!Bucky Barnes x reader)

Word Count: 3.5k+

A/N: I feel like I could remove demon!reader from the tag since ya don’t even get to see them 😭 but HEY! It’s finally outttt, woo! Hope y’all enjoy and happy reading!!!

Main Masterlist

You arrived just as the rain started to fall.

It wasn’t dramatic by any means, not in some crashing thunderstorm that signaled doom. No, it was soft and lazy, like it had forgotten to start earlier. The sky was gray, and the little chapel in the heart of Brooklyn felt like a quiet haven as you slipped through the doors, shaking droplets from your hair and stepping lightly across the threshold.

Bucky saw you before you spoke. He always noticed the new ones.

You didn’t look like the regulars, no stiff shoulders or necklaces clutched like lifelines. You walked down the center aisle like it was a catwalk, fingers grazing the old wood of the pews as your eyes flicked across the stained glass like you were critiquing the color palette.

“Are you here for confession?” He asked, stepping forward. Voice calm. Warm, but cautious.

You blinked up at him and smiled.

It was a beautiful smile. Too beautiful. It reached your eyes, but something in it didn’t settle right like the look a cat gives before it pounces.

“Maybe,” You replied sweetly. “I haven’t decided yet.”

His brows furrowed, just a flicker. You looked harmless, pretty and well-dressed. But something buzzed beneath the surface, not danger exactly, but a kind of wrongness. It was like a note out of tune in a song he couldn’t stop hearing.

“I don’t bite,” You added playfully, tilting your head. “Unless you ask.”

That pulled a reaction. His mouth pressed into a line, and you could practically taste the tension simmering beneath his collar.

You held out your hand. “I’m new to the neighborhood. Thought I’d check out the local church. I heard the priest here’s handsome and broody.”

He didn’t take your hand, but he didn’t ignore it either. His eyes dropped to it, then back to your face.

“Father James Barnes,” He said after a moment. “Some call me Father Bucky.”

You let your hand drop, undeterred. “Bucky? That’s charming.”

“You live close by?”

“Mmm. Around, not far,” You answered vaguely. “Still settling in. I’m not really the Sunday morning type, but I thought…” You paused, looking around. “There’s something nice about churches when they’re empty. Peaceful.”

“Most people find peace here,” He said slowly, watching you with that soldier’s stare; the kind that picked apart body language and micro-expressions like puzzle pieces. “Some people come looking for something else.”

You smirked. “Maybe I’m just looking for you, Father.”

The silence that followed was thick.

Then you laughed, a soft, musical thing that echoed under the high ceiling. “Kidding, sort of. You’re very serious, you know that?”

He crossed his arms, still studying you. “What’s your name?”

You gave it, casual and smooth, the one you used when you played human. You didn’t offer a last name though and he noticed.

“Well,” He said, finally glancing toward the front pew. “You’re welcome to sit, if you want quiet.”

You beamed like he’d handed you a crown. “Thank you, Father.”

And you slipped into the pew like you belonged there, crossing one leg over the other, your skirt riding up just a little too high to be polite, but you didn’t adjust it. You didn’t need to. You felt his gaze twitch away.

He turned and walked back to the altar, but he didn’t stop glancing your way. Not once. And you simple smiled, leaning back.

So this was the one. The one they all whispered about. Ex-HYDRA assassin turned holy man. Redeemed. Revered. Repressed.

God had a sense of humor and so did you.

The next day, you returned just after morning service, dressed in a pale yellow sweater and a soft plaid skirt, hair pulled back like you were trying to pass for something delicate. The sky was clear this time. No rain to announce your arrival, only the quiet squeak of the chapel door opening and the suspicious twist of Bucky Barnes’ head as he spotted you again.

“You’re early,” He said, wiping his hands on a towel, sleeves rolled up as he finished stacking hymnals.

You shrugged, giving him that same slow, innocent smile that never quite reached your core. “I was up and figured I'd stop by.”

He waited. You just looked at him.

“I thought maybe I could help,” You added, eyes wide and honey-sweet. “You know, volunteer. Clean things, light candles, hand out bread. That kind of thing.”

Bucky stared at you like you’d offered to baptize someone in lava. “You want to volunteer… here?”

“Mmhmm.”

A pause. “Why?”

You tilted your head like he’d asked why grass was green. “Because I like it here. It’s peaceful and you’re here.”

He exhaled slowly and muttered something that sounded like a prayer.

You wandered closer, hands behind your back. “I was good yesterday, wasn’t I?” You asked, rocking on your heels. “Didn’t cause a fire or any trouble.”

“That I know of,” He muttered under his breath.

“I can take that as a yes, then.”

“You flirted with a priest.”

“I teased a priest. Flirting implies I meant it.”

His jaw ticked.

You smiled wider.

“Sister Louise said you’re short on hands lately,” You continued, now trailing your fingers over the polished wood of the altar rail. “I could be useful. I’m very good with my hands and I don’t mind getting dirty.”

He turned away with a shake of his head, grabbing a stack of donation envelopes just to give himself something to do. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“Why not?”

“You’re…” He stopped. He didn't finish the sentence.

Because what would he say? You’re too casual with sacred ground? You walk like you own the place? You look at him like you see through him?

“I’m what?” You pressed, stepping closer. “Too distracting?”

“Yes,” He said, sharper than he meant to. Then softer, like it would make it better: “It’s not a good idea.”

You leaned in just slightly. Close enough to feel the heat rolling off him beneath his dark attire. “What if I told you I really just want to help, Father? That I’m looking for… redemption?”

“You don’t believe in redemption.”

“How do you know?”

“Because your eyes don’t match your words.”

You blinked. Then you laughed, low and breathy, tilting your head up to meet his gaze fully.

“Careful,” You whispered. “That almost sounded like flirting.”

He stepped back.

You let him.

“Fine,” You said, cheerful again. “If you change your mind, I’ll be in the back pew. Studying, being good.” You smiled up at him again, too sweet to be safe. “Unless you want to give me something to clean?”

His fingers curled around the donation envelopes like they were his rosary.

You turned and walked away: slow, swaying, and silent.

He didn’t stop you. He didn’t tell you no. And that, you thought with a wicked grin, was the best beginning of all.

It was nearing dusk when Bucky found you again but not in the pews where he’d expected, but in the sacristy.

The door had been left ajar.

You were alone, back to him, hands clasped neatly behind you as you stared up at the rows of candleholders and polished silver chalices lining the cabinet shelves. A hymn drifted from your lips, quiet and soft, almost haunting. He paused in the doorway, frowning. It took him a second to realize the melody was familiar, but something was wrong.

You were humming it backwards. Note for note, perfectly. Like someone had peeled the song inside out.

His voice cut through the haze, low and wary. “You’re not supposed to be in here.”

You didn’t flinch. Just turned slowly, still smiling, like you’d been waiting.

“I was exploring,” You explained sweetly. “Curiosity is a sin, right? But it’s only a little one.”

He stepped inside, slow and deliberate, eyes sweeping the room. Everything was in its place but it didn’t feel untouched.

“You know Latin?”

“A bit,” You said, rocking back on your heels. “I pick up languages quickly.”

He studied you.

“Can I ask something?” You continued, tone light and easy. “Why are you a priest?”

He blinked. “What?”

You moved closer, steps graceful and near-silent. “You don’t really look like one. You have that reformed-bad-boy energ and clench your jaw too much. But you look like someone who’s still fighting something.”

“And you look like someone who doesn’t belong here,” He retorted quietly.

You smiled wider. “That’s what makes it fun.”

Your hand brushed over the rim of the baptismal font as you passed it. His breath caught, waiting to see if you'd react. If the water would hiss, boil, or bubble.

Nothing.

You glanced down and dipped your fingers in without a flicker of discomfort. Then you looked up, eyes glowing with smug amusement. “Disappointed?”

He said nothing.

You stepped closer again. “Tell me something, Father.” Your voice was lower now, silken. “Do you believe in demons? That they all burn?”

He swallowed. “I believe holy things reveal the truth.”

You reached up and gently touched his collar, adjusting it with delicate precision. “Then maybe I’m just not as unholy as you think.”

He didn’t move.

You leaned in closer; not enough to touch, but enough to invade. Enough to leave your presence lingering in the air between you like perfume and smoke.

Then you whispered, “Or maybe I’m just really, really good at hiding.”

The air felt heavy.

You turned again and walked out before he could speak. You didn’t rush. You never did. But your laughter, soft and humming, echoed behind you like a bell that didn’t belong in a church.

Bucky stayed rooted in place, staring at the water, the candles, then the door. The hymn you had hummed played itself again in his mind. Backwards. Perfect.

And he finally admitted silently and deeply, that something was very, very wrong with you.

He just didn’t know if it was damnation…

…or temptation.

However, to the rest of the church, you were an angel.

Metaphorically, of course.

You showed up every day with a warm smile, sleeves rolled up, and a willingness to do anything that needed doing whethe4 it be sweeping the floors, folding programs, or pouring lemonade for the kids during after-school Bible study. You even laughed at Father Sam’s painfully dad-tier jokes without flinching, which immediately made him like you.

And that, somehow, made things harder for Bucky.

He watched from a distance as you folded yourself into the fabric of the church like you’d always been there. Sister Louise swore you were a “godsend,” muttering praises about how “young people just don’t care like this anymore.” You even helped Mr. Harrington, a Vietnam vet with a temper and arthritis, fix a broken pew without grimacing when he barked at you.

“Father Bucky,” Sam said one afternoon, stepping into the kitchen with a smirk and a sweat-slicked collar, “You sure you didn’t pray for extra hands and get one hell of an answer?”

Bucky looked up from where he was drying dishes. “That’s not funny.”

“Come on, she’s great,” Sam said, grabbing a towel and nudging Bucky’s elbow. “The teens love her, the older folks love her more, and even Natasha said she’s got ‘good instincts,’ and you know Tasha’s allergic to optimism.”

That made Bucky pause. “Natasha met her?”

“She came to the shelter Tuesday for the soup run. They talked for a bit. Said she’s quick on her feet and doesn't flinch at anything.”

Bucky’s stomach twisted. “Of course she doesn’t.”

“She even helped Mrs. Ramirez find her son a job. Kid was slipping toward bad company, but now he’s in landscaping.”

Bucky didn’t respond. He couldn’t. Because every good deed you performed just made you harder to touch. Harder to accuse. Harder to prove.

Harder to look away from.

And the worst part was watching you with the children.

The chapel smelled like glue sticks and juice boxes in the morning. The sunlight poured in through the stained glass windows, scattering red and gold light across the marble floor. The children’s laughter echoed through the side room where Sunday School was wrapping up, their voices bright, chaotic, and pure.

Bucky stood just outside the open doorway, leaning on the frame. Watching.

You were sitting on the floor, surrounded by a half-circle of eager little faces. One child tugged on your sleeve to show off her artwork, a wonky blue-and-green “stained glass” made from tissue paper and tape, and you gasped like she’d handed you the Mona Lisa.

“That’s beautiful, sweetie,” You said, your voice all sugar and sunshine, eyes wide and sincere. “You’re going to be famous one day. I’ll need your autograph before you leave.”

The girl giggled, positively glowing.

Next to you, a boy was getting increasingly bold with glitter glue, and you didn’t stop him. You laughed instead, catching his wrist just before he turned the nozzle onto his friend’s hair. “Ah-ah-ah,” You warned gently, “Glitter is a gift and a curse. Use it wisely.”

Even that made the kids laugh. And Bucky just watched.

Your sweater sleeves were pushed up to your elbows. Your hair had slipped loose from whatever had once tried to hold it up. There was a smudge of purple marker near your temple, and a sticker of a gold star stuck to the hem of your skirt. You didn’t seem to notice or care. You were too busy passing out juice boxes and complimenting another crooked craft with an over-the-top gasp.

Every word you said was perfect. Every movement was practiced: natural, warm, and human. But still…

Still he felt it.

Something just beneath the surface.

You were too good with children. Not performative or fake, just effortless. Comfortable. Like you’d done it for centuries. Like you remembered what it was like to be one of them… but had forgotten what came after.

“Father Barnes,” One of the boys chirped when he finally noticed him standing there.

The whole group turned, eyes bright and hands sticky with glue.

“Come see what we made!” Another called.

You looked over your shoulder at him, smiling with a sparkle in your eye that said “be careful” more than it said “welcome.”

He stepped inside reluctantly, crouching to examine the artwork, murmuring praise where it was due, and correcting a few glue disasters before they dried to the floor.

When he finally looked up at you again, you were already watching him.

“You missed the puppet show,” You said under your breath, teasing.

“I’m not sure I was invited.”

You handed him a sheet of paper with a bright, scribbled angel on it. “One of the girls said this looked like you.”

He blinked. “The beard?”

You grinned. “The wings.”

His stomach twisted.

The kids started packing up as Sister Louise arrived to escort them back to their parents, herding them with the kind of no-nonsense warmth only a retired nurse could manage. You stayed kneeling on the floor, gathering up markers and caps, humming softly.

Bucky knelt beside you, reaching for a scattered pile of construction paper. He didn’t speak at first. Just listened.

You were humming again. Not backwards this time. It was soft and gentle, the same melody from earlier but right-side up this time.

“You’re good with them,” He said finally.

“Children aren’t hard,” You replied lightly. “They’re honest, unfiltered. If they’re scared, they cry. If they love something, they say it. If they think your shirt is ugly, you hear about it.”

He huffed. “They don’t sense anything strange around you?”

You looked up, eyes gleaming with something unreadable. “Do you?”

He held your gaze but didn’t answer.

You leaned closer, lowering your voice to a whisper. “Maybe I’m just… growing on you.”

He opened his mouth to speak, but you were already standing.

“Careful, Father,” You said over your shoulder, that same smile tugging at your lips as you headed for the door. “You’re starting to almost like me.”

And that was the problem. Almost.

From then on, he tried to ask around about you in a subtle, but not too subtle way. Just enough to stir a little curiosity.

“Hey, have you noticed anything… strange about her?” He asked Sister Louise one afternoon while pretending to sort communion wafers.

Louise looked up with her usual frown. “Strange how?”

“I don’t know. Odd… off.”

She snorted. “She’s a young woman, Barnes. Not every twenty-something who wears lipstick to Sunday mass is possessed. Besides, she’s been nothing but helpful. The seniors adore her. If anything, she’s been a blessing. You’re just not used to someone that charming volunteering.”

He tried Sam next, after Bible study.

“Sam. What’s your honest read on her?”

Sam raised an eyebrow. “You got somethin’ you wanna confess, Father?”

“Sam–”

“I’m serious,” Sam said, crossing his arms. “I’ve seen you tense around her. You think she’s dangerous?”

“I think…” Bucky hesitated. “I think she’s not who she pretends to be.”

“Well,” Sam shrugged, “if she’s pretending, she’s the best liar I’ve seen in a long time. She even brought snacks to the Veterans meeting last night. Homemade gluten-free granola bars. Half the group cried.”

Bucky stared.

“And they were delicious, by the way,” Sam added, totally unhelpful.

You didn’t just win them over. You bewitched them.

And worst of all, Bucky couldn’t prove a thing. Not the backwards hymns, not the too-quick reflexes, not the way you stepped over the threshold without flinching and yet still looked at the crucifix like it dared to judge you.

You were charming, smart, and careful. You never said anything that could damn you in front of others. You never really touched him, but you always looked like you wanted to.

And that was its own kind of sin.

Then, it started with a spilled box of candles. That’s what kept you late one night alone with him.

You’d been restocking the altar supplies trying to be helpful, innocent, when a wooden box gave out on one side and sent dozens of thick white taper candles rolling across the stone floor like holy bowling pins. And Bucky had been locking up for the night.

Of course.

The others had already left. Natasha had slipped out after choir rehearsal. Sam had given you a wink and a “Don’t give Father Bucky a heart attack” before heading home. That left the two of you in the darkening chapel, lit only by low lights and what few candles you had already managed to place back in their boxes.

He knelt beside you without speaking, gathering the scattered candles and brushing dust from their edges. You didn’t say anything at first either; just watched him from the corner of your eye, enjoying how the candlelight softened the lines of his face, turned the steel in his jaw to something warmer.

“You’re good at that,” You murmured, rolling one candle between your palms.

“At what?”

“Quiet brooding.”

Bucky didn’t look at you. “Not brooding, just… thinking.”

“Oh, I see. Priest thoughts.”

He shot you a sideways look. “You always do that?”

“Do what?”

“Twist everything.”

You smiled. “Only around you.”

You reached for another candle, your hands bumping his. He stilled but you didn’t pull away.

His fingers were rough, calloused and real. The kind of hands that didn’t quite match the cross he wore. You liked that about him. You liked how much he fought against himself.

“You don’t like me,” You said softly, still not letting go of the candle between you.

“I don’t trust you,” He corrected.

You tilted your head. “Fair.”

“I think you want something.”

“Also fair.”

His voice dropped. “But I don’t know what.”

You finally looked up and met his eyes. The candlelight flickered between you, a golden holy thing caught between two liars. “Does it scare you?” You asked. “Not knowing?”

“What scares me,” He said, “Is how good you are at pretending.”

That surprised you.

Not the suspicion that had always been there, but the way he said it. It wasn’t angry or condemning. It was… tired, heavy. Like he wanted to believe in something again and hated himself for noticing you might be it.

You shifted, leaned forward slightly. “Maybe I’m not pretending anymore.”

His gaze dropped to your mouth.

Then to your hands.

Then back to your mouth.

“You’re not subtle,” He murmured.

“Neither are you,” You whispered. “You’ve been watching me since the day I walked in.”

“I was protecting my church.”

“And now?”

He didn’t answer.

The silence stretched thin and aching. You could feel his resolve fraying at the edges, his self-control pulled like a violin string about to snap.

So you broke it for him.

You stood slowly and stepped back, just far enough to be unreachable again. “I should go,” You said lightly, brushing invisible dust from your skirt. “Unless you want to walk me home, Father.”

His jaw tightened, he stayed silent for a moment before he answered, “I’ll stay and lock up.”

You nodded. “Suit yourself. But if you change your mind, you can try again tomorrow.”

That made him look up again, sharply. You winked.

Then you turned and walked down the aisle, your steps echoing against stone, leaving him alone in flickering shadows and silence thick with everything unspoken.

He didn’t move until the door clicked shut. And even then, his hand stayed clenched around the last candle you touched.

Taglist: @yasmin12312 @herejustforbuckybarnes @eeveedream @wingstoyourdreams @figtreesandmoonlight @happygalaxymilkshake