Monthly Story - nb incubus x gn reader (sfw) (Patreon)

Happy Valentine's Day, friends. I'm sending you lots and lots of love! I hope you like this story - I've been wanting to explore the idea of an incubus who's got used to people just wanting to be around them so that they can have amazing sex, and who gets to know a human as a friend first, so that's how this one came about.

Content: werewolf buddies get a bit too rowdy for our reader, nb incubus who's wary of strangers with ulterior motives, reader who just wants to hang out (this time) but isn't asexual. Orcish pizza and X-files.

Wordcount: 3310

 As you left work and burrowed down into the collar of your jacket to ward off a little of that creeping, February cold, you slid your hands protectively into your jacket pockets. It had been a while since you’d worn that one, and as your fingers brushed against something deep in the right hand pocket, you recalled the events of the last outing this coat had seen. What a night that had turned into…

It had been Oli’s engagement party, and the boisterous werewolf had booked a table at his favourite bar. Despite the fact that you didn’t normally go in for big parties like that, you’d gone along because he was your oldest friend, and you wanted to show your support for the couple; they were frankly adorable together, after all. His newer friends were just as boisterous as he was, half of them also werewolves and most of them from the amateur ice hockey team he’d joined back in college, but they’d all been friendly and welcoming to you, even though you knew nothing about the sport, and were also human.

However, as the evening had worn on, and the alcohol had really started to flow, they’d started talking more and more about their love for hockey and their memories of previous shenanigans, and because you’d kept pretty quiet you found yourself gradually shunted towards the periphery of the conversation.

No one had noticed when you’d slipped away from the table and gone to the bathroom, and no one looked up as you paused on your way back. They looked like such a unit — such a pack — that your heart had suddenly squeezed. You hadn’t felt exactly lonely in that moment — and you didn’t feel like you’d needed to be in a relationship necessarily — but watching Oli with his arm slung around his fiance’s shoulder, and most of the others all paired up too, it made you feel like an outsider in a way you never had before with them.

Deciding to leave them to it for a while, you headed to the bar and ordered a drink that didn’t come in a pitcher the size of a rainwater barrel.

And as you’d sunk onto a stool to wait for it, the person already seated at the bar had turned slowly to look at you, blinking large, golden eyes at you from behind round, gold-framed glasses. They had onyx horns flecked with gold, which had made you take them for a tiefling at first glance, but despite the glowing eyes and the angular beauty, you knew your first guess was off.

They inclined their head, and you watched the way the genuinely golden flecks across the cheekbones, like a fragments of gold leaf, caught the light against their dark brown skin, and when they smiled, you saw a double set of small but sharp canines glinting briefly to offset the unbearably cute dimples at the corners of their mouth. They had a gold eyebrow piercing and matching snakebites, and a row of gold hoops in descending size all down one long, tapered ear. A spiderweb-thin gold chain was draped between two of them and it caught the light as it swayed with their movement. Their black hair was short and very curly, and they were so attractive that your brain nearly blue-screened for a moment.

“Good evening,” they purred in a rich alto voice.

“Hi,” you croaked back, feeling frumpy and inelegant just by being in their proximity.

They gestured with their chin towards your friends as a whooping roar of laughter and several howls went up, and they smirked. “Quite the party,” they commented.

“Mnhmm,” you grunted dryly, muttering under your breath, “Ain't no party like a werewolf party…”

They laughed at that, low and rich and warm, and it stirred something inside you, like a breath over cooling embers. When you looked up at their face, you watched their eyes glint like burnished metal. On a whim, you introduced yourself and settled more comfortably in the seat.

Taking it for the invitation it was, they turned to face you a little more, extended an elegant hand that also dripped with gold rings and interconnected bangles that clinked around their delicate wrist. “Esha,” they smiled.

As you took their hand, their palm warm and soft against your own, an almost imperceptible tingle ran up your arm. It reminded you of the bubbles in a mouthful of champagne. Part of you relaxed just a little.

“You local?” you asked.

Esha shrugged. “Yes, but I travel a lot. You?”

“Born and raised and stuck here,” you sighed. Eyeing a ring that was enamelled to resemble piano keys in black and white, you gestured towards it and asked, “You’re a musician?”

“I am,” they said. “Well spotted.”

The next hour passed in a blur of easy conversation, and it was only when their golden eyes slid away from you for the first time in what felt like forever that you realised how rapt they’d also been by your chatter. As if a spell had been broken, the atmosphere shifted, and that was all the warning you got before Oli plonked his hand down jovially on your shoulder and said, “Hey, you abandon us?”

You bit back a retort about feeling a little abandoned by them, and shrugged. “I got chatting with Esha here. You guys heading off?”

“Yeah, we’re calling it a night. Sophie’s got to get to work in the morning, and Alex is pretty drunk so we need to get him to bed.”

You glanced over his shoulder and saw the smallest of the lot of them slumped against the biggest, and suppressed a smirk.

Oli looked at you and asked, “You… staying?”

You just caught Esha tense out of the corner of your eye. It was a movement so subtle that most would have missed it, but it didn’t escape you, so you shook your head. “No, I’ll head back with you in the cab,” you said, and made to get down off the stool while Oli turned back to the party.

Esha held out their hand to you and you took it to steady yourself, and when you parted, they lowered their head in a gesture almost like a bow, but before they let go of your hand, they tightened their hold and said, “A moment?”

“What is it?” you asked, still holding their warm, strong hand.

They licked their lower lip and looked uncertain for a second. “If… If I can ever be… of assistance in any way, call me.” And with that, they released their hold on you and flourished a sakura-pink business card from between the index and middle fingers of the same hand, very obviously by magic.

It was good quality card stock, with their name printed in simple, gold lettering in the centre — just ‘Esha’, no surname — and a phone number underneath it.

You took it and turned it over, finding only a small heart embossed in gold on the back, before sliding it into your jacket pocket. “Thank you, Esha. And thank you for tonight. It’s been a long time since I’ve just… talked with someone, you know?”

“More than you might imagine, lovely,” they sighed. “You take care.”

And that had been that.

You’d thought about them every now and again in the intervening couple of months, but now as the ‘most romantic day of the year’ rolled round, and you found yourself alone and single while everyone else made plans worthy of a Hallmark movie, you walked down the street and turned the card over again in your pocket, thinking back to that first meeting.

On a whim, you paused outside one of the looming office buildings, just as a light but drenching drizzle began to unfurl in the air like a cold hand across your skin. With a groan at the weather, you typed in the number and hit ‘call’ before your fragile spark of courage fizzled out.

When Esha answered a few rings later, your heart skipped a few beats, and your voice caught at their softly-purred, “Hello?”

“Hi, Esha…?” you managed to blurt after swallowing awkwardly to try and clear the lump in your throat.

“Oh,” they exclaimed, recognising you and remembering you by name. “How lovely to hear from you. Is everything alright?”

“Yes,” you replied immediately, cringing as you realised you’d had no real plan for this phone call. “Yeah, I mean… I just wondered… You’re probably busy tonight, and everywhere is gonna be full and it’s always overpriced anyway, but… I was just wondering if you… if you wanted to hang out?”

“Tonight?” Their voice sounded strained in a way it hadn’t during your previous encounter, and you thought perhaps they’d regretted giving you their number now, thinking you’d read more into it than they’d intended.

“I mean… Fuck… I’m sorry. I didn’t think this through. I just… I —” Panic set in, and you mumbled, “I’m sorry. Forget about it,” and hung up.

Tipping your head back, you let the fine, sheeting mist veil itself over your skin, closing your eyes and feeling its fairy-dust weight settle onto your eyelashes.

In your hand, your phone began to buzz again, making you jump.

You looked down to find the same number you’d just punched into it blaring out at you, and you nearly rejected the call altogether, but something made you answer. “Hey…”

“Hey,” Esha chuckled. “Do I at least get the chance to answer you before you hang up on me?”

“I’m sorry. I figured someone like you must have plans tonight already. I didn’t really think before I called you though.”

There was a little hitching silence, followed by, “What do you mean by ‘someone like me’?”

“You know,” you said, squirming internally. “Articulate, funny, attentive, kind, completely fucking gorgeous… I could go on, but I wouldn’t want to waste your phone minutes on stuff you probably already know.”

They laughed quietly at that, sounding honestly amused and flattered. “You do know what I am, don't you?”

“What?”

“I assumed your werewolf friends would have sniffed it out and warned you off me, if you hadn’t figured it out in the bar…”

“Warned me off you?” you asked with a frisson of fear skittering down your spine. “Why would they do that? And no, I don’t know what you are. It seemed rude to ask when I’d only just met you.”

Another silence stretched until you heard them inhale. “You truly don’t know?”

“You gonna make me guess? I’m gonna freeze my fingers off out here if you are. I have no idea. I would have said ‘tiefling’ but the vibes weren’t quite right for that, so… yeah, no idea.”

“That’s a common assumption, but as you say, incorrect.”

“I’m not guessing again, Esha. If you don’t want to meet up and hang out, just say so, so that I can go home, order a disgustingly big pizza from that new orcish place round the corner, and watch re-runs of the X-files.”

“That… That sounds like a prefect evening…” they sighed with a dreamy little laugh, and this time it bubbled up out of them mid-sentence, as though it had caught them off guard. “Well, I’m an incubus.”

You blinked. “Like… Like the… the sex demon?” You regretted the crassness of your words the moment they left your lips, but you couldn't take them back. “Sorry.”

“Indeed.”

“Oh. That explains the eyes, I guess?” Gold and hypnotic.

“I was wearing a glamour when I met you, but the colour is the same.”

“Oh,” you said again. “I guess your idea of Valentine’s Day is a bit more adventurous than mine…”

“Actually, I thought you’d called purely because you wanted to have sex with me.”

“I called because I wanted to hang out with you again. If you want to have sex, I’m not gonna say no, but that wasn’t what I’d had in mind.”

“Perhaps… Perhaps we could play it by ear? And for the record, I truly would love to share orcish pizzas with you.”

“My place is a dump,” you said in an embarrassed rush. “I mean, I haven’t cleaned this week, and there’s a bunch of laundry everywhere, and —”

Esha interrupted you gently. “You’re welcome at my place, if you’d prefer. If this orcish pizza place is the one I’m thinking of, then it’s a five minute walk from my apartment. It’s nothing fancy, but… I did push the vacuum around this morning…”

It was your turn to let out a fluttering laugh, and a magpie harpy going past you with one wing raised over their partner’s head to keep off the rain turned instinctively to look at you before glancing away again.

“Done,” you said. “I was going to order on my way home since I have to go past it. You want to meet me there instead?”

“Love to. See you shortly.”

“And Esha?”

“Mmn?”

“Thank you.”

“Pleasure.”

Your feet felt like they were hardly touching the ground as you set off again and wove your way through the rush-hour throng in the city towards the pizzeria. Outside the tiny, hole-in-the-wall shop was a small queue, and fourth in line outside was the familiar, elegant figure of Esha, wearing a tailored, gold suit and standing beneath a black umbrella. They looked very out of place beside the others, who all wore jeans and hoodies or nondescript suits.

“Wow, Esha,” you breathed as you joined them, giving them a once-over. “You look…”

“Overdressed?” they laughed. “I just finished work and didn’t have time to change.”

“You wear it well,” you shrugged, trying not to think about how your own, drab work clothes must look next to theirs.

Perhaps sensing your shift in mood, they inclined their head, metallic eyes glinting again behind those gold spectacles. They made you think of gemstones in a museum; gold behind glass. “If you wanted to go home and then come over to mine refreshed a bit later, I’m happy to get the pizzas and give you my address?”

“You wouldn’t mind?” you asked.

“Not at all.”

You rolled your eyes. “I really didn’t think this through, did I?”

“Sometimes that’s the best way,” Esha chuckled warmly. They didn't look even remotely pissed off. In fact, they looked oddly charmed. “Go on. I’ll text you my address.”

After a quick peek inside to see the three orcs who ran the place looking busy but not too overworked, you left Esha with your pizza order and headed home.

Showered and wearing something cute but comfy and low-key, you arrived at Esha’s apartment building not long after, and they met you at the main door instead of just buzzing you up. “You didn’t have to come down for me,” you said, “But thank you.”

As if they could taste your anxiety retreating with your gratitude, they just inclined their head, their gold-flecked horns glinting in the low light amid that mass of dark, curly hair. They’d changed outfits too, and now wore low-slung, black sweatpants and a tight, round-necked, black muscle shirt that clung to their lean, androgynous body. You tried not to stare at them in the confines of the elevator, but it was hard, and you felt your skin growing hot. Luckily, it was a short ride.

Their apartment was small but impeccably neat, and just as stylish as their dress sense.

“Wine? Beer? Or something non-alcoholic?” they asked as they shut the front door behind you and stepped around you to make for the kitchen.

You followed the amazing smell of fresh pizza and joined them in the small space. A marble counter top, and chic, black cupboards greeted you, and as they drew out a wine glass from a shelf, you opted to join them.

For the next few hours, you lounged comfortably on their pale couch, though you found yourself mildly terrified of getting marinara sauce or red wine on the pristine fabric. “That’s what magic’s for,” they chuckled, demonstrating by swiping their fingertip through the sauce and daubing it on the pale weave of the fabric covering sofa’s arm. You gasped, but they clicked their fingers, and in a spark of gold magic, the finger-painting stain vanished completely.

“Holy shit, I need that kind of magic in my life,” you joked, thinking of the random scuffs on the wall and blobs on the carpet in your apartment.

They fixed you with golden eyes for a moment.

“What?”

“Nothing, I suppose.”

The sounds of the X-files episode in the background faded as you met their gaze and tilted your head curiously.

They rolled their eyes, their glasses reflecting a shard of the action on the screen across the room for a moment. “It’s just… You have to know where my magic comes from — what fuels it — and you have to know what I’m capable of… and yet…”

“I don’t understand,” you frowned. Did they mean because they were an incubus?

“People reportedly have some of the best sex of their lives with incubi and succubi, and we’re in high demand for nights of the year like this one… And yet you phoned me not to have absolutely mind-blowing sex with me, but to… eat pizza and watch episodes of an old TV show?”

You blinked. “Are you… offended?”

“No,” they snorted, looking baffled. “Just… I can tell you’re not asexual. That you find me attractive. But… Well… This is new for me, I suppose. I’ve never been around anyone who doesn’t just want sex.”

“Oh,” you said, and then, softer, “Oh. Well, if you can tell what I’m feeling, you’ll know I’m having a really great evening. I’m definitely attracted to you, but… if you just want to hang out for a bit, then that’s… that’s more than fine.” You sank your teeth into your lower lip for a second and shrugged. “I guess it’s been a while since anyone just wanted to hang out with me too.”

“Your pack of werewolves don’t socialise with you?” they asked carefully.

“They do, but they’re… well… they’re werewolves, you know? They’re rough and loud and they like to party, and while I’m up for that some of the time, other times it’s nice just to…”

“Eat orcish pizza and relax on the sofa?”

“Exactly.”

They smiled. “No pressure, but if you wanted to cuddle, I’d love that.”

“Me too,” you said, and set down your wine glass so that you could nestle in against their side. You hooked your arm across their lean torso as they draped their left arm across your shoulders and drew you close.

“Can I ask you something?” you asked a while later, as the end credits rolled on another episode and the ‘play next’ shortcut popped up on screen. You let it run on into the next one and Esha hummed quietly in response somewhere above you. “It’s kind of personal… About being an incubus.”

“That’s fine. Ask away,” they smiled.

“Do you need to have sex to feed on someone’s energy?”

“No,” they replied. “I feed on sexual desire, so as long as someone is feeling even mildly aroused, that’s enough for me.”

“So you could feed on my energy right now then,” you said, boldly brushing your thumb across the tight fabric of their shirt, in the centre of their chest.

“I could, but it might heighten what you’re feeling, and anyway I’d never do it without your consent.”

“Right.” The idea excited you, but it didn’t feel like quite the right time just then. “Maybe… Maybe next time?”

They tightened their hug around your shoulders and then dragged the blanket that was draped artfully over the back of the couch down to cover your legs and up around your waist. They’d sensed that you were chilly too, behind the background, low-key arousal.

“Absolutely.”

_

I hope amid a stream of steamy content probably going up on the internet today, you enjoyed something simple and wholesome...

(orc biker lad's chapter one is going up in a minute too)

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