To Love an Incubus Ch. 01

I got inspired to write this story based on a few different comics/visual novels and other media that deals with incubi/succubi I've come across. My depiction of the sex demons isn't specifically based on actual mythology, however. This story is pretty much 100% my own wish fulfillment trash, so if my fantasy happens to align with yours, I hope you enjoy reading this!

Unrealistic sizes ahead, but then again why would you expect realism in a story about sex demons, right? Lmao. Thanks for reading.

* * *

You know, being single isn't all it's cracked up to be.

I envy people who are so comfortable being single. Once upon a time I was one of those people too, but after a while it kind of gets... suffocating, in a way. You start to feel this void within you that you might try to fill with sex—to no avail—and it makes you wonder, is this it? Should I start investing in litter boxes and cat food for when I inevitably adopt several?

Singledom hasn't bothered me so much until I noticed that pretty much all of my friends and loved ones had a significant other. Intellectually I know it's stupid to compare myself to them or think that I'm obligated to have someone just because they all do. But emotionally? It eats me up inside, and it's not exactly a feeling I can just shake off.

"But Aria!" I hear you saying. "Maybe you're just not confident enough in yourself!"

Yeah, yeah, I know about the whole self-love, self-confidence thing. I like to think I've achieved all of that fully when I listen to Lizzo songs, but in reality I'm still working towards it. When it comes to how I look, I think I'm comfortable with that. I'm a little too short for my liking—a mere 5'2"—but I've learned to just rock it as best I can. Besides, I like when a guy is much bigger than me and can just easily scoop me off my feet.

I cycle through hair colors a lot but I've rarely had it just in my natural blonde, or natural tones in general. Most of the time my hair is in varying pastel colors. Right now, it's pink, the color I frequent the most and one that's become my signature for people who know me.

As far as my physique goes, I've somehow stayed miraculously slim despite how much I eat. I may not be that lucky of a person, but at least I've got good luck in the metabolism department. And I've always liked my 36C boobs. The only thing I've been self-conscious about is that I don't have much of an ass. I'm not flat as a board, but my cheek game isn't very strong. Overall, though, I've been quite confident in my looks, so I don't think that's much of an issue for me.

"But wait, Aria!" I assume you're saying again. "What about dating apps?"

The thing about dating apps is that, in my experience, probably 75% of the guys I meet on there just want a hookup. Is it possible to find your soulmate on one of them? Sure. Do I have that kind of luck? Hell no. The guys I attract on these apps are for the most part too horny to even have a conversation, or we just flat out don't vibe well with each other.

Long story short, me and dating apps just don't mix, so I've taken a break from them. As far as meeting people in clubs and bars go, I pretty much only go to gay ones since my core friend group are all queer folks and I guess I'm the token straight girl. So yeah, maybe it's partly my fault for not putting myself out there enough, but lately I've just had zero motivation to do so. At one point I just decided to bury myself in college work. I haven't even had sex for like, months. As far as good sex goes, probably over a year.

I lay on my bed in my little apartment, scrolling through my Instagram feed and seeing all my friends being so happy with their respective partners, enjoying the summer break. I let out a sigh, wishing I could have that with someone. Someone who would actually stick around, instead of sticking it in once and bouncing right out the door.

Whatever, it's late. No use just moping all night. I put my phone on its charging stand and settle into bed, hoping I at least won't be single in my dreams.

* * *

Well, I'm definitely not single in this dream, but who I'm with is a bit... strange, to say the least.

The average person would probably dream about being with a famous celebrity of some sort, but in my case, my dream boyfriend isn't even human.

Well, he looks human for the most part, albeit much taller than the average guy—probably around 7 feet. Every inch of him is absolutely bulging with muscle, making the black band T-shirt he's wearing stretch noticeably. He has short and spiky black hair shaved at the sides, and possibly the most beautiful face I've ever seen in my life; like whatever higher power that created him took every conventionally attractive feature in a man and amped it up to a thousand. His eyes glimmer a dark gold.

Based on this description, he just seems like a super tall human guy with gold contacts on, right? Well, I didn't mention that his skin is ruby red, and he has small black horns peeking through his hair. Oh, and a pointed tail.

So basically my dream boyfriend is a literal demon. Sure, I guess this is a thing.

I've never felt this conscious in a dream before. This must be what lucid dreaming is, something I've only heard people talk about but never actually experienced. Me and this demon guy are standing in front of each other in complete nothingness. I can feel the ground beneath me, but can see nothing except him. I look up into his eyes and realize how much kindness and warmth he has in his gaze; something I'd never expect from a demon of all things.

He leans down and I feel myself being lifted off the floor. I let out a soft breath as I feel his large hands holding me up so that we're eye to eye. My own hands rest on the broad expanse of his chest. I can feel his heartbeat, so at least I have confirmation that he does indeed have one. It's steady, unlike mine, which is going incredibly fast.

He effortlessly holds me up with one hand while the other reaches to gently brush a strand of my hair away from my face. Everything about the way he holds and touches me is so gentle, despite his intimidating size and form.

"You're so beautiful," he tells me. His voice is low and deep, giving me a feeling of warm honey sliding down my spine, sending tingles all over me.

I try to speak but I'm too stunned to say anything. He just smiles at me; a smile so gorgeous that it would probably send me to my knees if I were standing up. "Don't worry, we'll talk properly soon," he says, before leaning in closer. He smells so good, and it's a scent I can't even describe because of how... unearthly it is.

He places a soft kiss on my forehead, and I close my eyes at the feeling. But as soon as I open them again, I'm back on my bed, the early morning sunlight filtering through the windows.

I don't know what that dream was or how in the world my mind came up with that hot demon guy. But whatever it was, all I know now is that I just woke up really horny.

No pun intended.

* * *

I spend my morning routine thinking about that dream constantly. It felt so real that I can actually still feel Demon Guy's arms around me, still smell his scent lingering and his golden eyes ingrained in my mind.

But what does it say about me that my dream boyfriend is apparently a demon? Is that some kind of metaphor that I subconsciously want a guy who's got, like, a demon inside of him? Like a bad boy or something? Because despite his demon-ness, he was so loving and kind. Clearly not an evil bone in his body. Right? I've read enough young adult novels and seen enough trashy romcoms to know the telltale signs of a controlling and abusive asshole, and he gave me none of those vibes. He made me feel safe.

But then maybe that's just what he wanted me to think. Maybe that dream is telling me that the guy of my dreams has a kind disposition that he puts on as a facade, but he's actually a demon. Figuratively, of course, but the dream just portrayed it in the literal sense.

Ugh, I don't know, I think I need to see a therapist. Either that or I'm just really overthinking things.

"You're overthinking."

I jump at the familiar voice and almost fall on my ass in my kitchen. When I turn toward the source, there he is; Demon Guy, in the flesh, looking exactly the way he did in my dream. He's leaning against the counter with that same heart-melting smile.

So apparently my dream is still going and I just assumed that I woke up. Because there is no way an actual demon is casually standing right in my kitchen. Once again, words fail me, and my mouth just hangs open dumbly.

"Yes, I'm really here, and no, this isn't a dream," he explains himself with a chuckle. "I wouldn't normally introduce myself in my real form; usually I'd use a human disguise. But I feel... strangely comfortable around you."

"Uhhh..." I genuinely have no words. What does one do in this situation? Should I grab my phone and Google what to do when a hot demon shows up in your apartment'? Or maybe 'how do you know if you're still dreaming' is more appropriate, since I'm starting to question whether or not I'm awake.

"I promise you, this isn't a dream," Demon Guy assures me, and I notice the glint of his fangs. Dear lord.

"Is... Is that... Are you a...cosplayer?" I ask pathetically.

He lets out a genuine laugh. "Nope, this is all me. Skin, horns, tail, fangs, everything."

Maybe he's just really really committed to his role. I should try and play along or he might go psycho on me. "How did you get in here?"

"I can just...appear places," he says with a shrug. "Teleportation, I guess." He says it so casually, like it's something anyone can do.

"Also, are you reading my mind?" I ask. I'm still shaking.

"Yeah, I'm sorry about that," he says. "I can turn it off. I just did it because I wanted to gauge your honest reaction to... well, to me."

Alright, I guess I'll bite. If this is really happening, I might as well just suspend my disbelief. "So... you're a demon," I say. He nods, and I continue. "Okay, so why are you here? Like... are you here to kill me?"

He looks genuinely offended and hurt by what I just said. "Oh my god, no, are you insane? I'm an incubus."

"An incu..." It takes me a while to remember what the term means, and when it dawns on me, I get even more slack-jawed. "You're a sex demon."

"Yep," he says with a grin. "I sensed how much you needed someone, and I apparently fit the bill of the kind of guy you're attracted to the most, so... Here I am."

"Uh huh..." I say slowly, trying to take this all in. "I'm sorry, this is all just... It's a lot."

"I know, I probably should have started out with a human disguise," he says apologetically. "Which I can do that, if you want?" He shifts his form so that his skin turns a regular tan color and he becomes a few inches shorter. His horns and tail retract as well, and now he looks like an extremely gorgeous underwear model in jeans and a T-shirt. His eyes are still the same dark gold shade, however.

Okay, so I just saw him transform in front of my very eyes. Either this is a very long, detailed dream, or all of this is real and I'm now questioning everything I knew about life.

"Is this better?" he asks me.

I'm not sure how to answer, but this form is less... distracting, I suppose, so I just nod.

"Let's sit down," he says kindly, gesturing to the living room couch and waiting for me to follow. I tentatively let him lead me there, shaky and wobbly from the shock. I plop down on the couch and he sits near me, keeping a respectable distance, not wanting to make me uncomfortable. How is a demon this thoughtful?

He seems to understand that this is a lot to process for me, so he just remains silent for a while and lets me sit there as I try to let all of this sink in. I take a few deep breaths.

Sex demons. Sex demons are real. "Hoooooly shit. Holy fucking fuckity fuck shit fucking fuck."

"Yup," he says while nodding. "Understandable reaction, just let all of that existential panic out."

After I somehow get my brain to accept that this is apparently a thing that is happening, I turn to him. "Do you mind... turning back to your real self?" I ask him. "I need like, constant visual confirmation."

"Yeah, sure," he says as he shifts back to his original demon form, growing a few inches larger.

I blink a few times and let out a breath. "Alright, so... Fuck, I don't even know where to start. I guess... Do you have a name?"

"Dax," he says with a friendly grin, reaching out his massive hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Aria."

I slowly take his hand, and he brings it up to his lips, sending shivers all through my body. "Likewise... I think," I say, voice still shaky. I clear my throat and ask another question. "So how exactly does the whole... y'know, sex demon thing work?"

"Well, basically incubi and succubi get nourishment from human pleasure," he says, in that casual tone of his. But I guess that would just be normal to him. I mean, it's his whole existence. "If we go without it for too long, it's bad news for us. Before I found you, I hadn't been with anyone in a pretty good while, and my sister's been nagging me to get nourished before I end up regretting it."

"Your sister?" I ask. "You can have siblings?"

"She's not technically my sister," he explains. "We're not born from other demons, we're all born as individual beings. Whoever we're closest to in our lives, we consider family. Zaira was there for me for as long as I can remember, so I see her as a sister."

I can hear the love he has for her in his voice, and that relaxes me. "So... How old are you, exactly? Are you like, 382 or something?"

He laughs. "No, no. We do live for a long time, but I'm still considered a baby by demon standards. I've only been around for 27 years, but I've looked like this since I was born."

"That's actually not far from my age," I say in surprise. "I'm 22. Here I was thinking you're like, centuries old. I'm pretty relieved you're not."

"Glad that eases you a little bit," he says, smiling at me. "I want you to be as comfortable around me as possible."

"But umm..." I look down and fidget nervously. "So, we have to have sex right now or... you'll die?"

"Oh, no no no," he assures me with a chuckle. "There's no rush at all. We can just let whatever happens happen naturally, or even if nothing sexual happens that's fine too. Consent is very important to us."

"Are there like, rules?" I ask him, curious. "Like, is there a sex demon code of conduct or something?"

"Yup," he says with a nod. "Very very strict rules on consent. Going against them could be punishable by death, depending on the severity. The explicit consent and satisfaction of our human partners is the most crucial thing for us. Any incubi or succubi who take advantage of humans in any way gets severely punished."

"Sounds intense," I say. "But I appreciate that it's so important."

"So yeah, you don't need to feel any pressure or obligation or anything," he says warmly. "We can just enjoy each other's company, whether it be sexual or not. Whatever you wanna do, I'm down."

"Well... Do you want pizza?"

* * *

So how did you spend your day? I spent mine eating pizza and watching reality shows with a literal sex demon. As one does. Nothing out of the ordinary.

I picked his brain a lot about his... Well, I guess his culture. He told me that incubi and succubi have always been around in their human disguises, but he just likes to appear as himself to certain people while donning the glamour in public. He said he thinks of his human form like it's a drag persona, and then somehow the topic changed to our favorite seasons of RuPaul's Drag Race because apparently he watches it too.

"Do demons have sexualities?" I ask him.

"We have preferences on the kinds of humans we're attracted to, so to an extent, yeah. Which by the way, you fit mine to a T," he tells me with a wink, and I can feel my face burn up. He chuckles and continues. "But for the most part all of us are sexually fluid. I guess if you wanna label it in human terms, we're all pansexual by default. Some of us just have preferred types we find more attractive than others."

"Can you count how many people you've been with?"

"At least a dozen or so? I'm not sure," he says. "And they're all a mix of men, women, non-binary folks, and from different parts of the world. Some were very nice people, while others were... less so."

"Have you ever... fallen in love with any of them?" I ask curiously. "Can you even fall in love?"

"Well, the demons in charge keep preaching that we can't, but I don't know if I believe them." He looks wistful, his eyes glittering. "I know plenty of demons who have chosen to be monogamous with a human partner, and it genuinely does seem like they're in love. So I'm inclined to think the whole 'demons can't love' thing is just something they tell us to keep us from commitment."

It takes me a while to realize that I'm leaning against him, and he has an arm around me protectively. I don't know if I should pull away, but I can't bring myself to. Everything about him radiates warmth and comfort, so I can't help but snuggle in closer, lulled by the steady rise and fall of his solid chest.

How is he so... sweet? The pessimist in me keeps waiting for him to say or do something completely douchey, but it's like there's not a hint of assholish intent in him. I've never felt this cared for by any guy, let alone a freaking sex demon.

"I meant what I said in the dream, by the way," he says softly, and tilt my head up to look at him. Just as he did in the dream, he gently brushes a hair away and caresses the side of my face. "You're so beautiful."

I'm not sure if he's using some kind of demon charm to compel me, but in this moment I find myself not caring. I just let myself lean into him and our lips meet. Hesitantly at first, until desire overcomes me and it deepens. My arms circle his neck to pull him closer to me and straddle him, panting softly between kisses. I feel so tiny on his lap, and his big hands touch and caress all parts of my body with a delicacy and a level of expertise I find hard to describe. He knows exactly where to touch me to ignite my thirst for him.

My hands grasp at his shirt and he promptly pulls it off, tossing it to the side. I can't help but suck in a sharp breath as my hands explore the impressive display of muscle that is his torso. Every inch cut perfectly, from his mountainous shoulders to his hard pectorals that are thinly sprinkled with black hair, then to his hugely muscled arms and down to his abdomen, which definitely feels like an 8-pack. I take my time caressing every ridge and relishing how he feels against me, all the while leaning back and closing my eyes as he plants soft kisses down my neck, his own hands gripping and squeezing my ass.

I strip my own clothes off frantically, craving skin-to-skin contact. I let out a soft moan as we get to know each other's bodies and I'm enveloped by his warmth, his strength, his scent. Whether it be magic or just naturally his, it's intoxicating either way. I grind myself against his lap, and my heart skips a beat as I wonder if I'm feeling what I think I'm feeling. Because I've never in my life felt an erection that massive beneath me, and it's still confined within his jeans.

"Do you want us to go to the bed?" he asks me softly, looking right into my eyes. I nod, my pulse going crazy with a myriad of emotions. Without letting me go, he stands up, effortlessly keeping me in his arms as he walks us toward my bedroom. I kiss him again deeply as we go, reaching up to run my fingers through his soft, inky black hair. When they come in contact with his horns, I hear him let out a low moan, and it peaks my interest. I make a mental note that his horns are a sensitive spot, because despite the fact that he'll get nourishment off my pleasure, I want to please him too.