Demon x Witch!reader— praise, body worship, nipple play, fingering, penetrative sex, scratching, biting, squirting, creampie, multiple orgasms
When your coven members started getting sick, dark horrifying jagged marks blooming on their skin, they all looked to you for answers. You weren’t coven leader, not by far, you were only their humble head healer. This was the kind of stuff you specialized in yet even you had no idea what was going on.
But witch after witch was appearing on your doorstep, their faces scared, desperately begging you for help. Of course you did what you could but the illness was such a peculiar thing, you could barely make sense of it.
With each new blot that formed the witch’s magic grew more powerful but also more unstable. The marks consumed them until they could no longer control their magic and it became a liability to allow them to continue their practice. Which was another issue as the illness also raised their aggression levels tenfold. Even the slightest uptick in their heartbeat could unleash a raging current of magic.
Most cases, no matter how much you tried to stop it, ended in the death of a witch and fewer answers than you started with.
For some it came on quicker and for others it was like a slow crawl. Yet it always reached its end and you could never catch up with it. That is until it finally caught up with you.
Haunting tendrils that began to form on your hands as if the illness was mocking you. You had failed to heal your coven members and now you’d fail to save yourself before it was too late and it’d claim another witch.
You only allow yourself a few minutes to panic. There isn’t time to linger on it any longer. Not when you’re unsure how much you have left. But even as you move, scouring through countless old texts and forbidden spells, that frenzied fear is what drives you forward.
Days go by running through the same cycle. Reading the books, testing incantations and potions, refusing to collapse as another fails, and forcing yourself to start all over again. Each failed attempt threatens to destroy what little hope you have left. There has to be something— anything— you haven’t thought of.
That’s when it hits you. As much as the rationale side of you immediately rejects the idea, the other tells you it’s your last chance. For your coven, summoning a demon is quite possibly the greatest offense a witch can commit. You remind yourself of this over and over as you draw the circle in the dead of night.
Bright purple flames shoot straight to the ceiling as the Demon appears before you, in clothes from a time long ago and a piercing gaze that acts like he already knows what you’re about to ask. Yet when you show him the marks making their way up your arms a flicker of surprises passes over his expression.
He breaks through your summoning circle with ease, clawed hands grasp at your arms with a surprising tenderness. It still manages to send a fierce shiver down your spine. Under his inspection you try and remain normal, ignoring the way your body warms and hums under his touch. A growing throb echoing straight to your core.
“A witch forming marks? What is the meaning of this?” He asks in awe, and his own demonic marks shimmer under the candlelight.
A soft gasp leaves you at the familiar patterns you’ve seen so many times before on your fellow witches. How had you never realized this? The connection between a demons blots and the illness taking control of these witches. Suddenly it was all making sense, the deathly power surges that they couldn’t contain on their own.
“I was hoping you could help me figure that out,” you whisper and his gaze snaps up to meet yours, the hum in your body buzzing harder by the second.
Then it’s weeks that pass in the blink of an eye. You rarely leave your home and refuse to let anyone inside. It’s clear your coven members worry for you but that’s the last thing on your mind. With your days now full of this alluring demon who you can’t get enough of leaves space for little else.
He moves around your home like he owns it, having grown more comfortable there than you ever would’ve expected. The two of you have come to work in tandem, your hand reaching and his is already there waiting as you trade old books, passing each other ingredients without a thought while making potions you’ve never even heard of, and your bodies moving as one as you work.
Every interaction between you is charged with something deeper, something you don’t dare to speak of. Yet it speaks through every brush of your hand against his, how neither of you move away whenever you bump into the other, the smiles and glances you send each other that linger a few beats too long, and that both your marks shimmer in each others vicinity.
And just like the others, as your marks move up your arms and down your body, your power grows stronger. But something about this demon helps calm the magic swelling inside you. His presence soothes the storm, his touch calms the spikes of your emotions. Ones that are starting to happen far too often for comfort.
Leaning against the table you clench your fists as another wave of anger urges you to lash out, to unleash the emotion swirling inside you. Your body shakes with the force of trying to resist but you hold on as long as you can.
Just as fear it’ll overcome you, the demon’s chest molds against your back, his arms curl around you and tug you close. That soothing sensation courses through you and you sigh in relief, melting into his arms like you’ve been doing it your entire life.
“I hate these marks,” you murmur, voice filled with pain.
The demon freezes against you and for a long moment he doesn’t respond. Neither do you. Then a moment later he leans down, nuzzling into the streaks that have bloomed on your neck. His own shimmer and yours respond immediately.
“I don’t. I adore them. You just need to learn how to control them,” he rasps.
His breath on your skin makes that constant buzz return to your body as if calling out for him. Warm arousal bubbles up in your belly and looks in your panties. You know he can sense it all yet he doesn’t rush a thing.
“Your coven’s tapped into a power it wasn’t prepared to handle but you have me now. Let me help you.”
All you can feel anymore is him as his fingers skim across your skin, tilting your chin up just in time to claim your lips in a kiss that’s been a long time coming. A soft moan leaves you, your body turning to face him before he picks up your plush frame with ease and plops you down on top of the table.
Low demonic growls vibrate from his throat as he pushes at your clothes like they’re a nuisance, his lips curl in a sneer as his mouth dances with yours like he’s trying not to just tear them to shreds.
Only when the lack of oxygen pinches at your lungs does he break from the kiss and immediately make his way down your skin. Pressing feverish kisses along every inch of bare skin he exposes.
“Your marks… they’re gorgeous. Just like the rest of you. If only you’d embrace them, embrace me,” he pants against your chest and you gasp as he takes one of your perky buds into his mouth, sucking till they’re swollen, then moving onto the next.
You writhe against the table, small whimpers leaving you as you get hotter and hotter, the mess between your thighs dripping down your legs and onto the table.
As if he can sense just how needy you are he leans back and forces your thick thighs apart, groaning at the slick that gushes out of your weeping pussy.
“You even have them here. How beautiful,” he purrs.
His long clawed fingers slide through your folds, tracing the streaks till you’re crying out and rocking your hips into the movement. You get so lost in the rhythm and the constant stimulation that you don’t notice him replacing his fingers with his cock until he’s sliding in and stretching your sensitive walls to their very limits.
You start to scream only to have them silenced by his mouth as he kisses you again. Your magic pulses in time with your throbbing cunt as he starts thrusting his cock deep inside you, slipping deeper and deeper with each rock of his hips.
Meanwhile he fucks your mouth as hard as he fucks your pussy, swirling his tongue against yours in time with every brutal thrust. You feel his tip smash against your cervix just as his tongue pushes into your throat and suddenly he’s everywhere.
Consuming you from the inside out. For a second you panic, your nails scratching down his back and he hisses, picking up pace and rutting into you even harder. You feel unsteady, body moving in time with his only to realize it’s not your body moving but the magic inside you. As you let him in the overpowering magic settles into your bones like it’s always meant to be there and it increases your pleasure to a point you’ve never known.
The demon grunts as he slams his cock along your walls, molding you to the shape of him. He’s breathless but he’s never felt more alive than he does now and he can’t stop staring at the streaks that resemble his one. Like you’re his, all his now. It makes his cock swell within you.
“Tell me you love your marks as much as I do. I want to hear you,” he growls, ducking his head to worship every inch of marked skin he can reach.
You cry out, the pressure in your belly building, so close to bursting.
“I love my marks,” you whine, trying to sound convincing.
“Louder,” he snarls and nips at your throat.
Every thrust he makes you scream those words till you shatter around his cock, your vision flashing white and your release spraying out of you in a brilliant stream of arousal. Your demon roars as he buries himself to the hilt and sends spurt after spurt of his thick cum to splash against your cervix till you’re coming again for him.
He helps work you through the intense pleasure, rocking into you steadily and holding you close. When the fog starts to clear from your mind a burst of clarity booms and you realize you’ve been going about this all wrong. Trying to be rid of the streaks is impossible. It’s only through accepting them can you manage the power that comes with.
And all along it was your demon helping you to see that. To accept it. Now you think you finally are and if you can convince your coven members to do the same you think everything may just be ok.
Your marks glow in a silent heartfelt thank you. Warmth flows through you as his own shine in return. Both your body and souls now connected as one.
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Never come close to a demon in heat. Especially an Incubus. Just the smell of his sweat and hormones, the pure feral lust in the air is palpable. His dick struggles to remain in sizes that could be easily taken by a mortal, (by you). He’s shamelessly rutting up and against anything that has your scent on it. Your furniture, your bed, your clothes, which are all torn to shreds now as he fucks and fucks and fucks, eventually just rutting his monstrous cock into some fabric scraps in his hand, lube and precum flowing to the floor as his feral pants, trying to find the release he seeks.
He can’t control his body now, it stretches to the ceiling, his horns scratching holes in the tiles, his body so overgrown, the four arms barely able to grab his cock before it splits into two equally thick 18” long poles, filled and overflowing with his seed. His tail lashes around, trying to find anything that will ease his suffering. Anything that reminds him of your tight holes, your sinfully sweet voice, your adorably lewd behaviours. He needs you, but in his feral animalistic state, you both know that he'd ruin you far worse than anything before. And so he ruts, and ruts alone. He gets creative using his own insanely long tongue, wrapping around his cocks like a snake. And with one demonic groan he cums, rope after rope of thick, sticky seed. All wasted in his mind. Whimpering your name like a broken prayer. But it’s okay, he's not done. He still needs you, to fuck
Your demon husband knew you were a very needy person when he married you. You constantly craved his attention and physical contact; it was just part of your personality. Your constant desire to be close to him was something he enjoyed greatly. He loves having you so needy and desperate for him; it just shows how much you love him.
While he wished he could have you on his cock at all times, bouncing your wet pussy up until you both were moaning in pleasure, he did have times he had to concentrate on his tasks. He had tried in the beginning to focus as he let you have your way with his large body, but your tight cunt proved to be entirely too distracting for him to get any real work done.
Having you stay away from him was not an option; you both craved the other too much for that. However, he came up with a solution that you both enjoyed immensely in the form of his tail. You could spend hours sitting on his tail, alternating between riding it and being cockwarmed by it.
Your demon husband could sit at his massive desk getting his work done as you writhed and moaned in his lap, your hips bouncing, grinding, and shaking as you cum repeatedly. The pointed tip of his tail moves so deep within you as he strokes your cunt, rubbing against your sensitive g-spot repeatedly until you are crying out his name. He alternates between letting you ride him however you please, and fucking you hard and fast with his tail, drawing orgasm after orgasm from you. Once you finally tire out, he keeps you tight to his chest, letting you nap as his tail stays buried in your dripping cunt.
When he finally finishes his work, he’ll bring you back to your bed, waking you by kissing your body and stroking your sensitive folds. He’s spent all day with his cock hard and ready to fuck you, your naked body pressed to his own. It’s a good thing you napped because the next several hours are going to be spent being filled by his cock over and over. By the end of the night, each thrust of his fat cock is going to push more and more of his cum from your stretched hole, only to be replaced by more cum, and he fills you again.
Sometimes I think about that time my freshman year of high school when I drew a life size picture of a monster lady with a giant chest, and I watched three of my classmates have a monsterfucker awakening in real time, I’m still proud of that
Select an inhuman and powerful being to go on a date with.
Slightly depressed fallen angel
1980s computer granted sentience by a trickster god
Cyborg from another timeline who feels constantly broken
Glowing sun and moon spirit of dubious origin
Werewolf who used to be someone who studied werewolves
Fae prinex expelled from their realm for crimes agaisnt reality
Insectiod alien who finds humans small and cute
Corpse stealing goblin
Vampire bard whose been traveling the world for a thousand years
Demon lord who mesmerizes people through cooking
Ghost who can summon storms of shattered glass at will
Several mile long dragon who lives in the deep sea
Voting ended onMar 5, 2025
Reblog to meet your date! Like to give them a little gift! Tag your freinds to make sure that every monster has somebody to love them! Look under the cut to see what meeting them for the first time is like!
The fallen angel: You see them for the first time, a sexless humanoid with a muscular physique with eyes that reflect broken stars, and wings permanently stained with blood. They wear all black, clothing that looks like they could barely manage to place upon themself. They seem shy at first, like they're worried they'll hurt you just by being there, slowly you extend a hand for them to hold, and cautiously they gently take it, for what's probably the first time in a long time their face shows a smile.
Computer: Slowly the creature is wheeled out by an attendant in a gas mask, an ancient looking monitor surrounded by wires, placed in a wheelchair to make up for the fact that such a creature lacks any limbs. For a few momments you wonder if the stories are true, and if such a being could truly be alive. Then the screen lights up and displays a single red eye, and you understand...
Cyborg: You see them sitting there, nothing to eat, nothing to drink, they didn't even bother wearing clothing. You can see their old flesh and hair on their upper face but everything else looks so very skeletal, even the lower part of their face is like a gas mask, with no mouth or nose. You sit next to them, looking at the parts that hold together their silver body, looking almost like restraints more then they do body parts. You're about to ask them something but a noise reminds them of something and they start to break down, you hold them and tell them they're safe, and you can feel their oddly warm body start to become calm.
Sun and Moon: Two glowing shapes stand before you, each floating and ethereal. One is in the shape of a crescent moon, while the other is in the shape of a sun with rays. You're not sure if it's alive or not or one being or two. Slowly both of them start saying things, wondering what you are and what they're supposed to do to you, sounding more like someone talking tho themself then two beings arguing. Eventually they decide that you're theirs.
Werewolf: for a moment they look entirely human, a slightly chubby grad student with glasses and messy hair looking at you with eyes that aren't a color that human eyes ever are. They looked for a moment to see if you're safe to let their form shift in front of. You can see them change for a moment, cycling through forms, first a humanoid with a few lupine features on their body, then a creature that could pass entirely for an actual wolf, then a mess of fur and claws and jaws and sharp teeth, then a bipedal creature with a wolflike head and fur all over their body. The final form seems to be the one they're most comfortable with, at least around you, at least for this moment.
Fae: They look over you, sitting on the back of their chair instead of sitting on its seat. Their body looks almost human but there is something off about it, like they possess a beauty so perfect its entirely inhuman, almost creepy. They flash you a quick smile, the molecules in the air around their body seemingly terrified by their presence. For a few moments they shift your body, changing your age, your sex, your species, and then putting you back as they were before. They magically remove the worn denims and leathers they were wearing, for a split second showing their naked salmacian body, then they drape themself in a costume of opulent gold and blood red rubies, as they prepare to hold court with you.
Alien: They're massive, like a mantis, with an exoskeleton that shimmers with a thousand colors like bismuth or like starling's feathers. Their crested head looks down at your big golden eyes, that seem weirdly happy. They extend a scythe like arm to touch you with, and you think they're going to attack you, but all they do is gently pet your head. You're very aware of how easily they could hurt you, but they don't, and with them next to you, you feel so safe.
Goblin: The creature walks around you in circles, a blood-stained hoodie on their body, they're far shorter than you but you're very sure that they're stronger, their body skinny not slender but still looking like it could pounce so quickly, like a serpent stalking its prey. Their eyes are so red, like a mouse's, their fangs so sharp, their skin pale white but with thick black veins throughout it. They sniff you for a moment, and then identify you as something safe, and hug you, holding you very tight, as something that's theirs.
Vampire: They're just sitting there, looking at you with their big golden eyes, their inhumanly pale skin contrasted with their long black hair, their completely sexless body wrapped in fancy clothing from hundreds of years prior. Their most inhuman feature is their mouth, massive, snake like, with exposed fangs, and mandibles to help them latch on to prey. You'd expect the sounds they'd make to be like screeches, but they're singing the most beautiful song that you've ever heard, like the sirens of the Odessey. You let them gently pet your head for a few moments, as you do the same for them, then you take out a knife to draw blood from the palm of your hand, and they lap it up so very gently, like a creature eating treats out of your naked hand.
Demon lord: they stand before you, tall and proud, their head many horned and covered in shimmering red scales, their arms muscular and their belly fat, their bottom half quadrupled and reptilian. They look down at you and places something into your hand, it's a food of some sort but it doesn't match the profile of anything you've ever eaten or even seen before in your life, each ingredient entirely alien to your senses. When you take a bite of it they smile and ask if you like it. It tastes better then anything that you've ever eaten before, your tongue filling with eldirch and unknowable things, as your ambitions begin to completely melt away.
Ghost: slowly you walk closer to the spirt, ignoring the others warnings, knowing that you're walking into danger. Eventually you can see them, contrasted with the night, their bloodied form ethereal yet very very present. You can see the broken windows around you, you know that it would be very easy for them to take your life if they wanted to. But they don't, at least not for now, and slowly you extend a hand, and watch them slowly come down twords you to take it.
Dragon: You watch as the sea slowly boils with your spell. You wonder if they can really be summoned like this, you worry that you did something wrong, or that you're not far enough out at sea. Then you see the start of their head rise up from the water, larger then any natural beast, they rush up, rearing their head and neck alone as high up as a skyscraper, their body covered in black-green scales as solid as steel but as light as a feather, their neck serpentine but their massive jaws like that of a crocodile, bright red eyes shining agaisnt the sky as bioluminescent patches glow across their body. They look down at you and smile...
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Cute little virgin making a deal with a Demon to get out of her arranged marriage. Demon agrees but he doesn't want her soul, he wants her first born. She doesn't know when it'll happen, she isn't sure she'll ever get married. Demon just laughs and throws her to the ground, raping away her virginity with his long, inhuman cock. She screams at first, begging him to stop, this isn't what she wants but the deal is already struck, she's forced to follow through on it. He fucks her deep and hard, relishing her screams as he breeds her repeatedly, fucking her harder and deeper when she starts coming on his cock and begging for more.
Cute little bred slut becomes addicted to Demon cock, summoning them over and over to fuck her full of cum as the first Demon's baby grows in her belly.
Cute little slut for Demon cock ending up nothing more than a cock addicted breeding slut for a group of Demons who love fucking human sluts.
When the whore finally dies she ends up spending eternity strapped down and fucked by any Demon and Hellhound that wants to use her cunt. If a few of those fucking her moan "mommy" in her ear as she comes on their cocks well, this is what she wanted, even if she didn't know it.
Imagine being religious and fcked in a church by a demon.
Like daily prayers, church going. Pretty much all out christian (or whatever u do), ending up in with a demon.
•Religious you who devoted their life to christ getting railed by a demon
•Religious you who was saving themself for marriage can no longer do so after her nights with her demon
•Religious you who wore a cross necklace clutching it around their neck as they get railed from behind.
•Religious you who prays for forgiveness after begging for more the night before.
You're speaking directly to my former Catholic guilt and I love it.
Religious you who is confused at first, not knowing your priest has been replaced by a demon. Even when his response to "Forgive me father for I have sinned, it's been a week since my last confession" is "Tell me my lamb what sins do you offer me"
Religious you who spouts off a list of menial things before you get to the lustful thoughts you've had recently about your new coworker, the 'priest' prompting you for more about this sin.
Religious you faltering as you try to stutter out your confession, face turning scarlet and body heating at the memory of what you did to yourself last night and the way the sensation of the maybe too large dildo lingers between your legs
Religious you shivering as you hear a long slow exhale from the other side of the confessional "Tell me my lamb, so that I may taste of your sins, exactly what you did."
Religious you going into reluctant but vivid detail about how you fucked yourself, he's a priest, surely he's heard worse.
Religious you who is all too slow to realize how hot your body is getting, how wet you feel between your thighs, as everything you describe feels like it's happening all over again. Turning into a squirming mess in your confessional seat as you feel the dildo you described, as if it's there again between your thighs.
Religious you who is squirming, wet, needy, feeling like you're being fucked in a confessional, all while new shame blossoms in your chest, doing nothing to calm the heat you feel when the 'priest' curses and you hear the door of his side slam open before your booth door is ripped open.
Religious you gasping when you see this isn't the father you were expecting but a tall, lithe, beast his chest heaving and pants obscenely tenting as he crowds into your booth, a forked tongue darting out to lick at your throat. "Dirty, sinful little thing. Give me your sins."
Religious you who doesn't hesitate to open your legs wider when you feel the flared tip of the definitely not a priests cock press against the sopping opening of your cunt.
Religious you nearly coming with a loud moan when you feel the flare of his cock head finally push into you with a pop.
Religious you getting pounded relentlessly into the hard unforgiving confessional bench, moaning and gripping at the rough armour like flesh of the demon as your mind grapples with the guilt and shame of truly loving the way the flare of his his cock makes your insides ripple with each hard unforgiving thrust.
Religious you being told "Pray louder while I fuck you. Scream to your god as you forsake them. Beg me to show them just how filthy you really are."
Religious you, a soaked, ruined, boneless mess after he cums in you, after you've come so many times you lost count after you started drooling.
Religious you being led out of the church on wobbly legs by your demon, now disguised as the priest once again. Being told for absolution "you must come back each week, we will keep track of your progress in resisting sin." The voice is too smooth, too sweet in your ear and the way it travels down your spine straight to your ruined cunt.
Religious you praying for forgiveness as you leave, legs wobbly, body fuzzy, and still warm. Pray forgiveness yes, but not the strength to resist this temptation.
