#damien darkblood x reader

[gatorbites-imagines]

Hey you said in a post you were looking for requests for invincible don't know if your still wanting requests for it or not but I was really hoping for a wholesome damien darkblood x reader story. he and Robot are so far my favourites I just started the show though, not done with season 1 yet.

Damien Darkblood x male reader

Headcanons

I love robot too, hes really grown on me the more episodes I’ve watched.

Damien Darkblood is a pretty blunt and dry witted person, or rather, demon. He takes his job as a detective very seriously, wanting to find the truth and bring forth justice. This also means your demon lover would be working way into the night, and would be gone for longer periods of time to do cases.

In the beginning this would have unnerved you, mainly because the cases he takes are dangerous and could put him in danger. Your lover does his best to reassure you though, even with his flat and dry tone, since the different tones in human language confuse him.

You two would have likely met during one of these cases, since Damien doesn’t really go out to look for a date or partner. This would either mean you were a victim, a witness, a suspect, or maybe a hero or detective. But for the funs of it, lets imagine you are another detective.

You wouldn’t be doing cases to the same level as Damien, seeing as he can sense crimes that happened through touch, giving him a different view than what you, a normal human can spot.

Damien tends to see things from his own perspective, meaning he doesn’t see the full picture at times, but being his lover means you have an easier time getting him to broaden his horizons compared to everyone else your lover works with.

You both being detectives also means your apartment or home looks like something out of those detective shows, with different corkboards on the walls, with hundreds of pictures or notes, and different colored strings connecting it in patterns only you two understand.

When it comes to detective work, there are times you’ll tag along on Damien’s cases, mainly when he has to interact with others like Cecil or the guardians of the globe, seeing as his dry and cut tone tends to annoy people. You won’t take them insulting him as casually as they do though, so it’s a bit of a give and take for other people involved.

After long days of little sleep and nonstop work, you always end up dragging Damien to rest somewhere. As a demon, Damien wouldn’t need to rest, eat, drink or sleep like a human does, but seeing as he loves you, Damien would go along if you just wanted to cuddle.

He will act tough, but you always catch his tail wagging a little when you cuddle, and you scratch the back of his neck or under his chin. Hes nice and cold as well to your surprise, so there’s no need to worry about cuddling in the summer.

Because I said so, Damien purrs, but only around you and only when you are alone. There are always cases hanging over the both of you, but you two decided to take days where you put off the work and spend it together. This is when Damien is most likely to purr.

Hes your personal weighted blanket, since hes got a stocky build. Him laying on top of you is the best if you like that kind of stuff, plus, his tail somehow always ends up wrapped around some part of you. This also goes when you are laying on top of him though.

Damiens big hands are also great at giving massages. Your demon lover always jokes in his dry tone that you humans are so frail, since you get sore muscles from all the walking or running you guys do. But he always ends up massaging your legs and feet if you need it.

His claws are very nice as well, as he runs them through your hair when you cuddle. He would never scratch you, your lover never wanting to hurt you, but he will go out of his way to put just enough pressure for it to feel good.

If it follows canon and Damien gets sent back to hell by Cecil, you know the ritual to bring him back. You also rub it in Cecils face when it turns out Damien was right, and what little respect you had for the guy will be gone. You wont save him from your lover bluntness again after that.

[archangelsquill]

and ammendment to the poll i put out

[ikariwrites]

Challenge

-

Damien Darkblood x Reader (f)

Summary : Something quick based on a dream I had last night. Only proof read through once so there may be some mistakes.

Damien claims he can fuck for hours without getting tired. You make a bet to outlast him.

Contains : riding, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, slight voyeurism, porn with no plot, domesticity and comfort

-

You’d been at this for hours.

Or, maybe it was days. You weren’t sure. Time was melting away the longer you stayed here.

All you knew anymore was the feeling of Damien’s cock filling you. You’d cum so many times by now that your mind was in some kind of drug addled, hazy state. There was a constant pleasure swimming through your veins that bordered on unpleasant with every orgasm.

It was too much and simultaneously everything you ever wanted. You never wanted to leave this room.

If you thought hard enough you could recall the bet you’d made that started all of this. Damien had claimed he could fuck and not get tired more than any human - for days sometimes if he wanted to, he all but boasted. You took that as a challenge. Your stupid naive pride thought you could wear him out. You honestly thought you could outlast a demon when it came to sex.

Clearly, he hadn’t been exaggerating.

You’re panting cloud after cloud of breath into the cold air around you as you ride his cock. Damien is flat on his back while yours faces the headboard. The solid cherry wood frame knocks against the wall with every bounce. Between that and your moans, everyone in the apartment complex probably knows what you’re doing.

The room is dim, with no windows and only a small lamp on the bedside table. A soft yellow light throws your shadows against the wall, mirroring every sinful movement you make. Even the cold air that constantly clings to him like an aura can’t keep the flush or sweat from your skin.

You knew he let you push him down and top him, that he could wrestle you into any position he wanted and claim you. You wouldn’t be in his lap right now if it wasn’t what he wanted.

He wanted to watch you, to look at you as you spent yourself over and over again on his cock, chest bouncing, your thighs squeezing his. He was getting off on watching you try, a smug smile on his lips every time you came. The bastard.

You lean down and kiss that smirk off his face. His pointed tongue darts past your lips and presses against your tongue. His mouth is so hot and wet. It feels good to your parched mouth. You’ve been breathing in so much cold air that your throat feels raw.

You whimper against his mouth as your cunt squeezes his cock and spills out around him. Lips part with a wet pop. Like a bottle of Champaign shaken on New Years, heavy moans laced with obscenities burst from your mouth.

Fuck, you can’t even feel it building up anymore.

Damien chuckles, the sweet rumbling sound adding to that knot of pleasure deep inside you.

Your whole body is shaking, trembling from the fresh wave of ecstasy. It’s duller now than it was however long ago but it still makes you collapse onto his chest and mewl like a kitten.

Damien takes your hips and works them up and down, using you like a sex toy until he’s once more filling you up with a grunt. The warm milky fluid spills out around his cock. You’re so full of him that it’s a surprise your stomach doesn’t show it.

You puff tired breaths against his cool, damp skin. A clawed hand cards through your hair tenderly, lovingly. “Ready to give up?” He asks in a voice as smooth as crushed velvet. There’s a clear smile in his voice that only spurs that petty human urge in you to win.

“Hell. No.” You say with a steadier breath. The utter confidence in your voice betrays the weak trembling in your thighs and back. “Let’s go again.”

“Won’t be able to work tomorrow.”

Instead of answering him, you stubbornly start bouncing your hips, sliding up and down his length with a wet sound. With your cheek flushed against his chest, you start moaning again, that sickly sweet pleasure making your eyes roll back.

Damien just smirks and grabs your hips, guiding them along with claws that pleasantly scratch your skin.

When all is said and done and you finally surrender to his endless well of sexual stamina, Damien takes you to the bath and cleans you up. He dresses you in thick pajamas and lays with you, petting your hair and telling you how beautiful you are until you fall asleep.

The next day, you feel like you couldn’t walk even if the apartment was on fire. Damien brings you food in bed and takes care of you.

You end up calling out of work after all.

[gatorbites-imagines]

you guys should send me invincible requests *blinks cutely*

ive only finished season 1 but im already watching season 2, so feel free to send requests about the characters.

i have also only read like the first 13 issues of the comics, so most if not all my knowledge is based on the show and the wiki.

Note that my fave is def Mark at this point, but many of the characters have grown on me, especially Darkwing 1 and 2, Immortal, Rex, etc. ill even write about the flaxans at this point, cuz why the flaxan leader kindaaaa.... also a big fan of the evil versions of invincible.

Ive already had a few ideas, like a reader thats kinda based around mysterio from marvel. Or maybe the reader being green ghost, or even some viltrumite reader stuff.

and yes, of course i write smut too 🔥

[archangelsquill]

to hell and back || damien darkblood x reader 

pairing: damien darkblood x partner reader (gn, no y/n)

fandom: invincible

word count: 1448

summary: after omni-man flees earth and things begin to settle down, cecil feels he owes you -- the demon detective’s partner in solving crime -- a favor.

warnings: none

a/n: a sequel to this. darkblood deserves better, and by the gods, i’m giving it to him! enjoy, my fellow simps.

———

“If anything happens to them, on your head it will be, Cecil!”

Those were the final words of the demon as the pits of hell called him home, and as Cecil met his gaze, he knew it was no threat. It was a promise, and though he considered himself a bastard, Cecil saw no need to keep you in danger. He knew without Darkblood around, you were a target for Nolan. He’d already had security detail on you, but against Omni-Man, he knew it was useless. If he ever decided he wanted you dead, there’d be nothing stopping him.

Then, if Cecil was lucky (or maybe unlucky) to stay out of the warpath, he’d have Darkblood breathing down his neck, even with such distance between this world and his.

Sending him back to Hell wasn’t something Cecil wanted to do. It was a necessity. He owed him big time for that, and he’d start with keeping you off Nolan’s radar.

The official report was that you’d gone to stay with an imaginary Aunt Sue, somewhere in the Dakotas, but the reality was you were to be kept in the Global Defense Agency Headquarters -- well hidden, out of sight, and away from Nolan Grayson.

No one told you a thing. You’d been in your apartment, waiting for Damien to show up with those coffees he’d promised. Evidence, photos, and papers of theories and notes were scattered around the small space, occupying every inch of surface area, as you paced, a bad feeling in the pit of your stomach growing stronger and stronger the longer your demon detective was away. Something was wrong, and as Cecil Stedman appeared suddenly before you, making you jump out of your skin, you knew for sure. 

“You’re the demon’s partner, right?”

“Yeah, that’s me. I guess you’re Cecil.”

“You guess right. You need to come with us.”

“Why?”

“You’re not safe anymore.”

“What?”

“I can’t answer your questions now. Pack a bag. You won’t be coming back for a while.”

You didn’t argue. You didn’t have a choice.

The Global Defense Agency took care of your monthly expenses while you were gone, as if that made any of this less scary or confusing. All you’d been told was Damien was back in Hell, Cecil put him there, and you were in danger.

No one told you much else. Cecil had acted civil toward you -- kind, even -- but it didn’t help. Damien was gone, it was Cecil’s fault, and life may never be normal again.

All because you two asked questions.

Because you wanted the truth.

And you both had paid the price: freedom.

Meanwhile, Omni-Man roamed free, ready to kill again.

You lost count of how long you’d been at GDA HQ when Nolan finally struck.

Initially, you’d been barred from the control room, but Cecil let you choose to watch the chaos or stay blind to it.

You choose not to watch. No one needed you to be in the room when all of the ruin, disaster, and chaos you and Damien knew would happen happened. Based on what Cecil told you after, you were glad you decided to stay out of it.

All of those innocent people, now dead. All of that destruction. All of that carnage, and for what? Omni-Man had fled.

It was for nothing.

And Debbie…

You’d offered as much comfort as you could. You knew how it felt to lose a loved one (it took all you had not to look pointedly at Cecil when you told her that) and the woman needed someone to lean on. Someone not quite so cold as Cecil.

And he’d watched you. Despite everything, you comforted Debbie and Mark, putting on a brave face as if you haven’t lost everything, too. Cecil knows you’re still hurting -- why wouldn’t you be?

Cecil was many things, and a man who paid his debts was absolutely one of them.

He’d been searching since he put Darkblood back in Hell for it: the spell to undo what he did. To summon him back. His plan was always to bring him back, if such a thing existed. He’d had his people looking for months with no luck, and he’d already given you the all clear to go home, with the promise your rent and utilities were paid for until you could get back on your feet.

Yeah. Right. How the fuck do you do that? Your partner -- not only in profession but your partner -- was gone, your office had been trashed, and your apartment felt so empty it was somehow suffocating.

For weeks after you’d returned, you’d laid on the couch, staring at the ceiling, jumping at any change in the temperature, hoping one day you’d look up and see him, only to find it was the apartment complex’s shitty circulation.

The news talked about things going back to normal, yet normal sounded like a foreign language now. How was the world supposed to be any kind of normal again?

Cecil made a few visits to check on you, but you regarded him with coldness that could rival that of Damien’s. He couldn’t blame you.

You’d lost track of the days when the sigh that escaped your lips was accompanied by a small fog. You froze, sitting up from your temporary home on the couch before exhaling again. Just to be sure.

And there it was again: the small visage of your breath indicating the decrease in temperature you’d been ignoring out of lost hope.

“Damien…?”

“Yes, amare?” the gruff baritone was music to your ears as you turned toward your kitchen. There he was: red, large, and intimidating -- yet that soft look in his gaze remained, as if no time at all had passed.

“Damien!” you leapt over the couch, nearly tumbling to the ground before two strong arms grab you, pulling you into the warmest yet coldest bear hug you’ve ever gotten.

“Sorry for delay. Had to...speak with Cecil...” he rumbles, clawed hand carding through your hair, “Need to be ‘debriefed’ but...had to see you.”

“I can tell you what you missed.” you mumble, burying your face in his arms. He pulls you tighter still, resting his chin on the top of your head.

“Later,” he says.

And for a moment -- how long, you’re not sure -- you both just sit there on the living room floor, holding each other in a silent, loving embrace. Tears stream down your face, stinging from the cold emanating from Damien. His hand moves to brush them away, and the contact makes you cry more. You missed him. It had been so long.

After what felt like forever, you part -- just enough to look at each other. He, of course, looks no different. Demons didn’t age like humans did. You, however, probably look like shit. You hadn’t looked in a mirror in forever, but you knew your hair was much longer. You hadn’t bothered to get it cut in...how long had it been? It wasn’t like you could’ve gotten it cut, anyway. The city had been rebuilding, and getting anywhere was...well, hell.

“Beautiful as the day I lost you,” he says, and your tears well up again.

“I know I look like shit, Damien,” you say, trying to laugh off the sudden absence of your grief. He smiles slightly -- a rare sight.

“To me you look like heaven, amare,” he replies.

Amare. His nickname for you. You think its Latin, but you’ve never looked into what it means. You never asked, either, assuming he’d just tell you one day.

But you almost lost him.

You couldn’t bring yourself to look into it after he was gone, and now that he was here again….you decide to ask.

“You’ve called me that since we became partners. What does it mean?”

“Supposed to be a detective.” he replies. His own attempt at a joke, you muse. You’re in no mood for it.

“Damien, please.”

He looks at you fondly, placing a kiss to your forehead.

“Love. It means love.”

You should’ve figured, yet you find yourself crying again, and his arms wrap tighter around you in a protective, loving embrace.

There was more to be said between you two. You both know it. What happened to Damien in Hell? How did everything with Nolan go down here? Now that Cecil knew how to banish and summon Damien as he pleased, what would become of your demon detective?

All need answers. Resolutions.

But not now.

Now was the time for healing: for the world, for humanity, and for you and your demon in that tiny apartment.

You had him back, and though so much hangs in the air, that was enough.

[archangelsquill]

I just read both of your Damien fics, may i kindly ask for 1 more,,, a crumb of something soft, literally ANYTHING you got please, I love how you write already

pairing: damien darkblood x partner reader (gn, no y/n)

fandom: invincible

word count: 1014

summary: damien darkblood’s love language is acts of service and i will die on this hill

warnings: not proofread, we die like men.

a/n: you requested a crumb of something soft and since this took forever, here’s a whole slice of cake <3 i’m so sorry this took so long!

--------------

Through no fault of your own, your apartment was a mess: trash was overflowing, dishes had piled up, and you were down to your dingiest clean clothes to wear to work.

You hadn’t been home except to sleep and shower in weeks. Work was piling up faster than you could complete it, leading to long days and long nights in your office. Hell, you’d slept there a few nights the past few weeks. You hated it, but there wasn’t much to be done about that. You were up for a promotion, which meant you couldn’t slow down now.

The chill that hung around you every now and again was a painful reminder that your home wasn’t the only part of your life you’d been neglecting: you hadn’t seen Damien since all of this chaos started, though you could feel his presence. He hadn’t complained -- in fact, he hadn’t said a word to you -- and you figured that was because you never said anything when he’d be gone so long chasing a lead. You never minded, and he seemed to be returning the favor now that the roles were reversed.

Damien was never good with words, but his actions would say all they needed. Some days, you’d get home to find a fridge full of groceries you didn’t buy, or walk in the door just in time for a bath to finish filling, a chill in the air. One night, after falling asleep in your office, you awoke to find a heavy, tan trench coat draped around your shoulders and a still cold rose laying on the desk beside you. These little favors were always a welcome respite from the never ending mess of work you found yourself in lately.

Your apartment was colder than usual tonight. Damien was paying a visit, which made your limbs feel lighter as you unlocked your door.

The lack of the stench of three day old take out wasn’t lost on you as you crossed the threshold.

“Damien?”

You flicked on the living room light to find everything spotless, probably for the first time since you moved in.

“Damien?”

“Amare.”

Your demon detective seemed to appear from thin air, a soft expression on his face.

“Missed you,” he said simply, hands in his pockets, “wanted to do something kind.”

You smiled at him, dropping your bag heavily where you stood and practically falling into his arms. You were exhausted, and you’d missed his cold embrace.

“Missed you, too,” you mumbled.

For a moment, he just held you, a large, clawed hand carding through your hair.

“Think everything is in its place. Had to make a few guesses,” he rumbled, pointed chin resting atop your head, “Apologies if things are misplaced.”

“Damien, its perfect,” you looked up at him, smiling softly. You stood on your tiptoes, pressing a kiss to his lips. Its cold as always, but it doesn’t force the air from your lungs like it used to. He smiled into the kiss -- which, considering he was a rather serious creature, was rare -- and held you even tighter.

“Are you hungry?” he asked.

“Don’t tell me you cooked on top of cleaning my apartment.”

“No. Grabbed burger you like. On kitchen table. Might be cold.”

You chuckled, “Honey, since when have I cared about the cold?”

A short laugh found its way out of him -- which was even rarer than a smile -- as he let you go, hand resting on the small of your back to lead you to the kitchen. Sure enough, there was a small bag on your table and you could smell the cheap burger from where you stood.

“I love you.” you said, placing a peck on his cheek.

“Love you, too, amare,” he replied, leaning against the kitchen counter as you sat down, fishing the burger out of the bag.

You ate in comfortable silence, the burger tasting like the best food you’d had in weeks, even if it was cold. As you ate, your eyelids grew heavy. What time even was it? It had been late when you left the office, and you’d been planning on going straight to bed before you’d realized Damien was waiting for you. You felt his eyes on you, and you met his gaze.

“Seem tired, my love.” he said, stating the obvious.

“I am tired,” you replied, finishing the burger.

“Should go to bed.”

“I can’t do that, no after you took the time to--”

“Cleaned home because I care. You are human. Need rest. I understand.”

“I just hate that I haven’t had time to see you. I don’t want you to feel neglected.”

He approached you then, crouching to meet you at face level, and placing his hands on either side of your face.

“Never make me feel like that. See your smile when the room is colder. Know you kept the rose I left you. Never once complain when I am gone. Would be unkind to not return the favor.”

You smiled gratefully, leaning into his touch.

“I know,” you said, “I love you a lot, you know that, Darkblood?”

“Of course.”

He stood, scooping you up in his arms with ease.

“Must put you to bed. Look like Hell.”

That got an honest laugh out of you.

He carried you to your bedroom, and you couldn’t help but close your eyes, head resting against his cold chest. You stayed conscious enough to feel your soft mattress under you, and the warmth of your blanket being placed over you. You snuggled into it, this simple, everyday task feeling like the highest luxury.

“What if I called in tomorrow?” you mumbled, sleep beginning to pull you into unconsciousness.

“Would be nice.” your demon replied, carding a clawed hand through your hair, relaxing you even further.

“Yeah...I’ll call in tomorrow…”

“Will be here. Goodnight, my love.”

“G’night.”

Cold lips found their way to your forehead, and you fell into the sweet arms of sleep with a smile on your face -- the first smile you’d had in weeks.

Yeah, your boss could live without you tomorrow.

[archangelsquill]

i’ll come running

pairing: damien darkblood x civilian reader (gn, no y/n)

word count: 1190

summary: damien has a spell on you to warn him if you’re ever in danger. one day, it alerts him while you’re supposed to be at work.

warnings: none, really. uuuuhhhh work woes, protective damien?

a/n: bad day at work equals this, my dudes. also, i’m not super happy with this one, but if you never try, you never learn and all of that. still getting the hang of writing the raspberry man lmao

---------

“This is a damn trainwreck.”

The voice of your boss broke through the fog you’d been comfortably stewing in. This meeting was not only annoying, but you were being talked at, not to. Like always, you just let him talk so you could just get back to your job. You always laid low and it served you well.

Until today.

Today, you were the one responsible for the meeting. You were the trainwreck in question.

“Do you want to be here?”

No.

“Yes, I do!”

“Then why is your work so…” he paused to find a word, “lacking?”

You’d stayed after hours to work on that project.

Ouch.

“I don’t know…” you mumbled, not meeting your boss’ gaze.

“Well, figure it out. Then redo it. You have a week.”

This first attempt had taken you two.

“Okay.”

Not okay.

“That’s all I got for you. Go get started.” and with that, he turned away from you, back to his own work. Quietly, you got to your feet and left the big fancy office to head to your small, cramped cubicle. You stared at the mess. Papers, statistics, and other office supplies were scattered all around the small space: the remains of your hard work, scattered and messy, much like your confidence.

You looked at the clock on your desk, defeated.

You’d been in there since you clocked in at eight.

Now it was eleven.

And you still had to survive the rest of your shift without crying, or at least, not getting caught crying by the boss. You couldn’t get emotional. That’d hinder your work. Can’t have that, obviously.

The stress of it all weighed heavy on your chest, making breathing feel like the hardest thing you’ve ever done. You can’t quit, you barely make enough to live paycheck to paycheck, but you can’t get promoted because your position simply isn’t designed that way, no matter how much your boss lied to you and told you one day you’d be promoted. One day you’d be full time.

Bullshit.

Tears stung your eyes as it all hit you. You were stuck. Painfully stuck.

You wiped desperately at your tears. You couldn’t cry now. You had a project to finish. Taking a deep breath, you flopped onto your desk chair and got to work, hoping the pressure would somehow make this better than your first attempt.

You worked well past closing time. Even your boss had gone home, without even a breath in your direction.

Whatever. You were making progress, and you had to admit, it was looking good!

That is, until a loud boom! somewhere in the city -- probably some superhero fight --  knocked out the power.

You sat in silence, blankly staring at the black screen that had previously held your unsaved progress.

That did it.

When the first whimper left your throat, nothing was going to stop it.

You curled up in your chair, exhausted and heartbroken. How the hell were you supposed to finish this if you had to restart it again tomorrow? God, you were thankful no one else was in the building.

That is, until you felt a familiar chill fill your small cubicle. You didn’t even look up. You couldn’t.

“Amare?” gruff, yet concerned bass joined your tearful silence.

You couldn’t answer.

“Amare? Are you alright?” The familiar nickname came more urgently this time. You heard him shift over to you, and felt one clawed hand find rest on your back while the other found your chin, tilting it up so you could see his warm, glowing golden eyes gazing at you.

You muster a nod, but the lump in your throat keeps you from doing much else.

“Thought you were in danger,” he said, scooping you out of your chair and setting you on the floor as he inspected you for injuries, “Invincible broke through office buildings two blocks away. Thought--”

He didn’t finish his thought.

“Felt your fear. Came running.”

You met his gaze, confused.

“How?” you croaked.

He tore his eyes from yours.

“Worry for you…” he almost looked sheepish, “Have ways of knowing.”

Cryptic bastard.

“I’m okay, Damien,” you let out a shaky sigh, “Just the boss being...well…”

A nice, office appropriate word escaped you. With a stern look, Damien finished your thought for you.

“A bastard.”

“You said it, not me.”

The two of you sat in silence for a moment.

“So is sensing fear something all demons can do or…?” you trailed off. Demonology was interesting to you, especially how Damien explained it, but it was also a feeble attempt to get your mind off what will happen tomorrow.

“No…” he paused, “Worry for you. Cast a spell. When scared or hurt, I feel it.”

You furrowed your brow. You weren’t even mad, just...confused.

“Why?”

He looked back at you, those glowing eyes bringing the comfort of a warm fire as he pulled you close to him.

“Do not want to lose you,” he replied softly, “Will protect if I can.”

You blush a bit. You weren’t sure what to call this thing you had with Damien. Dating? Friends with benefits? Partnership? Pact of the Fiend Warlock? You never knew. All you knew was how you felt for him. Maybe it was love, maybe it was just affection, but either way, you cared for the demon detective. You never knew if it was mutual, but now...well, now you did.

“Really?” You felt like a first grader asking your crush if they like liked you, but you needed to know.

“Love not a thing demons taught,” he said flatly, the words wounding you before he continued quickly, “Not soft enough to feel like that. But...you…”

He gently cupped your face.

“Make me want to learn.”

You couldn’t think of how to respond, other than letting your mouth fall open in surprise at the confession. He’d always been sweet to you (as much as a demon can), showing a softer side that no one else knew he had. He’d bring you gifts, walk you to your apartment, but you always thought that was part of his “stay out of hell” thing.

Until now, of course.

“Well…” you stammered, “I can...I can teach you.”

Could you? You were human. Love was in your nature. Was it something that could be taught?

As a rare smile spread across his lips, you decided you were going to find out.

There was a moment of silence between the two of you. You wanted to kiss him, but before you could make any move to, another, much closer boom! rattled the building, knocking over bookshelves and nearly knocking both of you over.

“Talk later. Must evacuate.” he said with a quick peck to your temple. He helped you to your feet as you quickly grabbed your bag.

“If anything happens, I will come running.” and with that, he disappeared, but the chill didn’t leave like usual.

It was funny. You used to hate the cold. Now, as you ran down stairwells and out the front door just in time to see an Invincible colored streak crash through your office, you didn’t mind it so much.

In fact, you kind of preferred it.

[archangelsquill]

you’ll always be back

pairing: damien darkblood/gn reader, no y/n

word count: 634

summary: your partner, the demon detective damien darkblood, thinks he knows who killed the guardians of the globe. you really hope he’s wrong.

warnings: briefly mentioned murder. a dash of spoilers for episode 3 or 4 of invincible

a/n: this is my first published fic since, like, 2011, so sorry if there’s some mistakes. i just love this raspberry man (even if writing his dialogue is actual hell) and he is so under appreciated. also this takes place right before darkblood is heading to the grayson’s house for the last time before cecil catches him and...yeah. anyway, enjoy!

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“Pacing again.”

The demon doesn’t look up from his desk. He doesn’t have to. He didn’t need to be a detective to feel your anxiety.

“Sorry, Damien.”

It doesn’t stop you, though. You chew nervously on your thumbnail as you continue to pace.

“Is there any way you could be wrong?” you ask, finally stopping your pacing to look at your partner. The demon meets your gaze with a soft look only you ever received, eyes shining a warm gold rather than his typical unnerving yellow.

“Not been wrong yet,” he replies, ever a man -- demon?-- of few words, though the tone matches his gaze. Soft. Reassuring. At least, he’s trying. Still, it doesn’t quite soothe the storm clouds of anxiety building within you.

“But…” you try to make sense of it all, beginning to pace again, “why? Why would Omni-Man kill them? It doesn’t make any sense!”

“Don’t know. But know a devil when I see one.”

You’re not sure if that’s supposed to be a joke or not.

“What happens if he figures out we know? What do we even do against someone like that?”

“Already has. Won’t take risk. Wife suspects. Wants to avoid suspicion.”

“Damien…” you sigh. He could be so frustrating sometimes. Why wasn’t he worried? If he was right and Nolan was the one who murdered the Guardians, what could the two of you do to protect yourselves if he came knocking?

Nothing, you figure.

Although, you mused, Damien did have a point. If Nolan lashed out against the two people who’d accused him -- that is, if you two mysteriously wound up dead -- there wasn’t a whole lot of room for denial.

“So what do we do?” you ask, settling onto the office’s small, crappy couch. The demon leans in his desk chair thoughtfully.

“You do nothing,” he responds, serious as always, “I return to Grayson home. Alone.”

“Da-”

“Dangerous. You stay here.”

You fold your arms across your chest, raising an eyebrow.

“I knew what I was getting into when we became partners, Damien. I’m not--”

“Is different,” and he gets up, looming frame crossing to you, bringing his chill with him. Though you’re used to it, you shudder, and just like he had a thousand times before, he shrugged off his massive trenchcoat, throwing it over you before sitting beside you and placing a clawed hand on your shoulder.

“This real danger. Not want you to get hurt.”

“I know.” you grumble, not meeting his gaze. His hand shifts from your shoulder to gently cupping your chin, lifting it so you had to look at him. Or maybe, so he could look at you.

“Will be back,” he places a kiss to your forehead and gets to his feet, “Bringing coffee. Late night ahead.”

You offer him a smile, wiggling out of the trenchcoat and handing it back to him.

“Iced coffee, right?” you try to joke to calm your nerves. He chuckles, the sound a deep rumble in his chest you could feel without even touching him.

“Not warm like you,” the tone was almost apologetic, “Make me forget I’m cold.”

Damien had a difficult time expressing how he feels to you. Not because he doesn’t want to, but...well, he was a demon. Before you, there had only been loneliness. Hell was like that. Though you were patient, and he was a fast learner, compliments didn’t happen all that often -- but when they did, you knew he meant it.

So you blush, a smile finding its way to your anxious features.

“Look almost like me,” he smirks, gently caressing your face. His touch is cold, but the gesture is warm, like sitting in front of a fire after walking miles through a snowstorm.

“Will be back, amare.” and with that, your demon detective is gone, the chill disappearing with him.

He said he’ll be back. And though you felt it in your gut he won’t be this time, you clung to the words.

After all, he’ll always be back.

Right?

[ikariwrites]

I gasped when I saw this posted in the Damien Darkblood tag! Your fics with him are always good and this one is no exception. ❤️ I love the concept. Love the hurt and comfort. The longing. The pain and then the pay off. Just 👌 mwah, perfect. Love it!

to hell and back || damien darkblood x reader 

pairing: damien darkblood x partner reader (gn, no y/n)

fandom: invincible

word count: 1448

summary: after omni-man flees earth and things begin to settle down, cecil feels he owes you – the demon detective’s partner in solving crime – a favor.

warnings: none

a/n: a sequel to this. darkblood deserves better, and by the gods, i’m giving it to him! enjoy, my fellow simps.

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“If anything happens to them, on your head it will be, Cecil!”

Those were the final words of the demon as the pits of hell called him home, and as Cecil met his gaze, he knew it was no threat. It was a promise, and though he considered himself a bastard, Cecil saw no need to keep you in danger. He knew without Darkblood around, you were a target for Nolan. He’d already had security detail on you, but against Omni-Man, he knew it was useless. If he ever decided he wanted you dead, there’d be nothing stopping him.

Then, if Cecil was lucky (or maybe unlucky) to stay out of the warpath, he’d have Darkblood breathing down his neck, even with such distance between this world and his.

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