Chapter Text
You often wondered if your cosmic roles in the universe were reversed somehow. If when the sun sank into the horizon and darkness enveloped the blue skies; perhaps it was you that sank into an alternate dimension - where your life, and your reality, was actually the opposite of everything you knew.
Or maybe it was just a rip in the timeline, or an alternate universe that was meant to torture you, and your very idea of reality.
Or maybe you just had misunderstood your folklore you suppose.
Maybe this was punishment, some sort of divine intervention that had cursed you to this.
The clock strikes midnight, minutes turns into hours and soon enough - he appears.
Night after night he appears. Like he was spawned just to mock you.
Every night you see an incubus that you swore would cure a certain ailments you suffered with - except he never did. At the very least, he didn't deal with what you thought he was supposed to cure you of.
“Why are you still awake?”
You sigh, your chest uncomfortably expanding against your bed as you roll onto your other side.
“I can’t sleep, obviously.”
“Why not? You’ve had a busy day today.”
You roll your eyes, you're annoyed with him already. Burying your head into your pillow, you inhale the fabric and grimace at the scent. Ew, you muffle against the half fluffed pillow and roll onto your back.
There he is, in all his glory. His perfectly sculpted face, his piercing green eyes staring directly at you. He looks like... a man. A beautiful human man, except with a few little additions that clearly showed he wasn't 100% human. Sharp little horns are tucked neatly and inconspicuously within his dark black hair. You swore his canines were just a bit too long and sharp to be normal... The biggest indicator of his otherworldliness is something you don't even bat an eye at anymore. You feel it awkwardly patting onto your calf, his long slithering tail curls around your leg as it attempts to comfort you; in the most clinical, unsexy way possible.
You groan again, “seriously?”
He watches you get up from your bed, lazily situating yourself into a sitting position as he taps your forehead and scans your face, “are you ill?”
“Were you a doctor in another life?”
Zayne chuckles, “perhaps.”
“I thought you were a succubus and was supposed to fuck my brains out or something.”
“Succubu are female, I am a male. Therefore I am an incubi,” he notes plainly while watching your pupils as they dilate. He hums a single low tone, his eyes squinting a fraction as he determines your dilation is due to your attraction towards him and nothing else.
“Just because I was created as such, doesn’t mean I need to succumb to my baser instincts. Besides, I thought you enjoyed my company,” he scoffs as he returns to lay against the foot of your bed. His frame is large, taking up a majority of the real estate. But his tail is a menace, the long appendage again curls against your leg as he tries to relax.
“You could at least visit me in the day,” you mutter, your voice muffled as you run you palm across your face.
Zayne shakes his head, “I thought you studied your folklore.”
A long pause of silence passes before you finally speak.
“Can you cuddle me at least... Please?”
It's sweet, even a little desperate, but even he can't deny that demand. Even if you didn't sound like a sweet saccharine song, he still feels his heart skip a beat at the sight of you.
He stammers, his body going rigid as he contemplates his answer.
“... Sure.”
You’ll never get used to his large size, or that he’s a little cold to the touch. You feel your cheeks warm up as he slowly wraps himself around your frame. He feels you sigh, and you know he’s already closing his eyes just to rest for the remainder of the night.
The time on your clock ticks on by, and you try to think of your plans for tomorrow while trying to sink deeper into his embrace.
/
He didn’t mean to fall asleep. It’s a nuisance when he wakes and realizes he’s already gone from your world. His body been dragged away in his dreams and shaken awake in an alternate version of your world. He can still see you, within a wall of strange illusory fragments of memories.
It's cruel.
It's as if he could predict your actions before you even make them. He sees you slowly waking from your bed. He sees the way you slump your shoulders and silently grab your phone to mindlessly scroll through the same apps. He catches the way you attempt to feel for his form. He imagines you, repeatedly patting the space next to you. No, instead he sees you circle your palm on your bed, your fingers delicately tracing where he slept.
Zayne sees you making breakfast. Heading out for groceries and going to work. He sees you meeting a friend. He sees you grabbing your third coffee of the day. He sees you returning home and immediately going in to take a shower. He gives you privacy, closing his eyes as he attempts to gather enough energy to see you again tonight.
As he turns away he pauses. Something feels off, a sharp pain in his chest radiates towards his neck. His eyes blink wildly as he attempts to stave off the sudden ache. Precise needle like pricks trail from his heart and shoots up his spine. His body violently folds inward as he begins coughing and spluttering blood onto the floor. Staring at his shaking open palm he sees a dark red viscous liquid coating his skin.
His fingertips slather the blood on his palm, spreading the red wine like colour around until it slowly fades into nothingness.
Zayne looks up above him, high towards the darkness that mirrors your world.
You emerge from your shower, gloriously nude as you leave puddles of water on your bathroom floor. Your hair is drenched, and each droplet that falls transcends time and space and appears above him like rain. He shouldn’t look at you, but he can’t help it.
The pain surges between his legs, the throbbing feeling taking over as he lowly growls and grunts. You gently twist your hair, ridding the excess water as it dances into the well of your sink. It sprinkles onto him like a warm summer rainfall, wetting his face and hair. His hand lowers to his torso and he palms his growing erection.
It’s massive against his thigh, and his attempts to quell the pain within it is futile.
But he tries anyways. The water droplet that falls from his cheek and down against his lips tastes like you. Or at least what he imagines is what you taste like.
Sweet, a little salty, and - captivatingly addicting.
The flavour of you bursts against his tongue, his palm goes faster and faster against his cock until he spills his seed onto the floor in front of him. His relief is short lived, his eyes darken suddenly, his vision of you disappears like the mirrors he saw as they fog up with condensation. His body feels heavy, and he doesn’t feel anything else except when his body hits the ground.
/
If he wasn’t going to take charge, you would. And even though you were vague about the specifics with Zayne. You finally had enough courage from your friend to just jump Zayne’s bones already.
“What do you mean you cuddle every night and he doesn’t touch you???” Your friend of a handful of years blurts out with her coffee cup still pressed against her lip.
You groan, sigh and whine, “he just DOESN’T. It’s like he’s afraid of touching me.”
She leans in closer, “okay but you cuddle.”
“Yes, AND I CAN FEEL HIM BUT - “
“Okay girl, I don’t need to know his cock size.”
You blurt it out before you can even stop yourself, “IT’S HUGE.”
“OKAY.”
Your matched laughter fills the corner of the coffee shop you've been in for the past few hours. You're sure that the workers are annoyed by now. Or maybe they're bored and need the excitement of other people's relationship woes.
Your friend swirls her drink and you swear at the sound of her spoon clinking with the glass, that you can feel a set of eyes on you. You ignore the feeling, but curiosity gets the better of you as you crane your head behind you to see if any sets of eyes are looking over at you.
But there’s no one.
Everyone is minding their own business and tending to their coffees or are tapping way at their laptops.
“Do you have a picture of him by the way?”
Snapping back to reality, you find yourself at home again. The conversation you had with your friend plays though again in your head as you dig through your closet to find something that isn’t just an old t-shirt with holes in it.
Zayne never seemed to mind it either way with what you wore... Is lingerie really going to change anything?
With all the caffeine still running through your body, your fingers gently graze along the few sets you have. Through all the conversations you’ve had with Zayne, you never really got a feel for what he would like. Colour preferences, style, leather, lace, frills…? You had no idea what he would like actually. Ultimately you decide on a frilly light blue set. You don’t have a particular reason why, but maybe he liked that whole innocent look.
If this didn’t work, you’d pull out the big guns. The matching little black set that you were so sure would work on him. But for now, you need something cute, demure… something that’s tender to the touch that accentuates your soft skin.
You're still in your long t-shirt though, with the long fabric hitting the top of your thighs and covering the tiny bit of blue of your lace panties.
The sun sets and black fills the night sky. Even though there’s not a cloud above you, you notice the lack of stars. Light pollution you guess. It’s a bit depressing, seeing nothing else except for a few street lights in the distance.
Lightly stretching your body, you flop onto your bed and sigh.
Although you had enough coffees to keep you up for a few more hours. You can’t help but feel how heavy your lids are. Your hand lifts to rub at your eyes to rid the feeling. But it never goes away. Well, even if you fall asleep you suppose Zayne would wake you up at some point, he always did. Or maybe you’d be able to feel him as his weight dips your mattress as he slowly encircles his body around yours.
You meant to stay up, the coffees were sure to do that for you. You don't even notice that you had slept away into the morning until you feel the warm morning sun slowly seeping onto your face. Wildly blinking away the rest of your fatigue, you stare at your bed and your surroundings. Your blankets and pillows are exactly how you left them and you can feel the itchy imprint of lace across your chest and hips from the lingerie you feel asleep in...
It finally dawns on you, your brows furrow.
Zayne never came to visit you last night.
/
When he wakes, a thick fog lingers and permeates through his mind, clouding his thoughts and feelings as he blinks himself awake. It’s bright in your world, the sun showing that it’s possibly past midday. He never saw you last night, his sudden dip in his energy left him stranded in his realm and on the floor.
Lifting himself up, he realizes how his rest was insufficient, and being away from you for the night had left him even more restless and irritated. It would be a long day until he would be able to see you again. And all he could do is sit and stare at the fragmented shapes in front of him. He watches you as you slowly made your way through your day, a bit more dejected looking than usual.
He’s riddled with guilt. Watching you fake your smiles and how they suddenly fall whenever you’re no longer in the presence of another person.
Maybe this was his punishment, some sort of divine intervention that had cursed him to this existence.
/
You can't even look at that frilly thing anymore, you quickly throw it into your hamper as you change into a comfy t-shirt and shorts. You’re way too annoyed to even try again with him.
Last night was the first night that Zayne hadn’t shown up... He never skipped a night ever since he apparated into your bedroom all those nights ago.
What kind of business did Incubus even need to attend to? It's not like he ever talked about anything from when he disappeared every morning...
Maybe you were getting too attached to him. Despite everything, he was the one constant in your life. Despite how fucked up that was.
No matter how bad your day was. No matter how many mistakes you made throughout your day, or how terrible your work performance was. No matter what complaints you had - he was always there.
Every night a tall, dark form appears from the corner of your bedroom. Like some sort of ghostly menacing apparition in the mist. At first it was fear that clouded your every emotion. But soon enough it was intrigue, curiosity and even excitement. When the fog finally settles, he appears. He’s glorious every time you see him, you suppose that’s what something sinfully evil would be. Something so beautiful and enticing… he’s meant to drag you with him. Maybe one day, he would drag you deep into the darkness, far into whatever realm he slipped away to when the sun rose.
Frustration boils over when your rage turns to tears. You’ve been so reliant on him, you didn’t even realize how much you missed him.
It’s stupid.
The tears on your pillow suddenly feel cold, and a stark dip in temperature in your bedroom announces his presence.
Sickening silence permeates between you two.
He hears you weep, quietly. His heart twists at the sight of your tears staining and soaking your pillow case. You’re wearing that old comfy t-shirt again. Usually you'd greet him somehow. But you’re ignoring him. Rightfully so. He doesn't have anything else to say, no words to truly explain his absence.
“I’m sorry.”
His soft, smooth low voice echoes within your room, the tone of his words filled with regret and remorse. He meant it.
You hide your sniffle by rubbing your nose with your hand before you wipe the rest of the dampness away from your face.
Still laying in your bed, your voice is muffled as you speak, “it’s -fhatever, it’sno- like we’re together or anything.”
Zayne remains in his corner, standing as still as he can as he watches over you.
“... I could leave if you want me to.”
You’ve never asked him to leave before, and he’s never offered to leave. It’s been an unspoken contract you’ve had for months. He appears in the middle of the night, he takes whatever company you decide to give him. He gives you whatever affection he deems appropriate, and in the morning light - he’s gone. You haven’t strayed from that schedule, and he hadn't deviated from it at any point either -
... Until last night.
Lazily blinking away a stray tear, you recall a memory from a few weeks ago. He startled you as you were entirely engrossed in something on your phone as you laid in bed at 3AM.
He didn’t mean to, he never means to cross that line.
But you couldn’t help but blush when he occasionally fed you snacks in your bed. His big hand held your tiny screen as you cuddled together and watched some horrible tv show. His large form kept you warm as you huddled underneath your blanket. He’s playful with you sometimes, teasing you with the crumbs on the corner of your mouth. You remember the flutter of your heart as his long slender fingers brushed against your bottom lip. You remember the tingles in your stomach that shot straight down to your core as he stared at your eyes and your lips.
He cleared his throat and lightly moved your phone, “let’s get back to the show.”
You swallowed, and stared at him as he tried to watch the tiny screen. His focus is now entirely on the pixels there as he squinted and watched the characters fighting each other.
You wanted to stay up with him, nuzzling him as you watched more episodes. But soon enough, you could see the familiar faint yellow light as it peaked across the horizon. His presence slowly faded away, his solid form disappearing like a mirage in the distance. His face was the only thing you could see until you were met with your bedroom walls again.
Feeling like your eyes were dry enough, you slowly braced yourself on your forearms and lifted yourself from your bed. Swinging your body around, you expected to see him like he always had been. Impeccably dressed in some sort of suit that was exactly to your taste. You don’t even remember how he used to dress before he probably dug into the recesses of your mind and picked out what your specific preferences were. Now he always wore whatever you thought looked good on him.
But when you turn to look at him, your face falls.
“What’s… why do you look like that?”
He chuckles warmly before coughing into the crook of his arm.
You’ve - never seen him like this. His pale ghostly complexion. His face gaunt. His normally pristine hair is lacklustre and matted to his forehead. His attire is a simple sweater and sweats. Something you’d imagine a boyfriend wearing if he fell ill. He’s even wearing glasses that you didn’t expect him to wear. You can't imagine demons needing any sort of prescription... or how he would have in the demon world - or whatever.
Either way, the lenses are fogged, probably making it worse for him to see.
Clamouring to the edge of your bed, you gently grasp his hands. A chill runs down your spine, his hands feel colder than they usually do.
“What happened to you?”
His jaw tightens, his chest expels a breath he was holding in and a subtle warmth builds in his palms.
“Are you sick? I didn’t even think you could get sick… what’s wrong with you?” You pester him repeatedly as you try to shake his hands.
He mimics his previous laugh, although somehow more delirious sounding before he coughs again. This time his hand is quick to escape yours as he covers his mouth. You notice him as he discreetly checks his palm. He sighs, and you're not quite sure why.
“Wait a second, you’re actually burning up, what the hell?” You feel for this forehead, and gauge the temperature by testing your own.
“I’m fine - " he mutters before slumping against your frame.
“Zayne?! Zayne!” You call out for him as his dead weight spills onto the edge of your mattress. You pull on what you can, his arms, his shoulders, his leg, his… tail. You try your best to shift his weight so he’s properly on your bed.
Stuttering and stammering, you step out and run towards your bathroom to grab a towel and soak it in cold water.
“Will this even work on him??? I guess he eats… but. Oh whatever,” you panic quietly to yourself as you run back and see him still laying motionless on your bed.
A pair of thin silver frames are still on his face, and you gently pry them off and lay it on your nightstand. Swallowing, you brace yourself before placing the damp cloth on his forehead.
Your heart drops when his physical form disappears, like he were just a ghost as the towel slips through his forehead. Tears brim at your lashes and you grab onto his face. Blinking you feel his cheek, his chin. Your chest falls with a heavy breath as you touch every part of him that you can reach. The cold wet towel is suddenly pushed forward, as if it bounced back and landed back onto his skin.
“That won’t do anything,” he weakly says.
“Well, I don’t know what else to do Zayne!” You yell and continue to try and cool down his fever.
His breathing quickens, his tongue slips out to wet his lips.
“Just… let me hold you… for a bit.”
His hand slowly reaches to grab for your wrist, moving the dampened towel away to your night table and leaving it there.
You nod, and with careful movements, you lay down and place yourself into his embrace, with your chest facing his as you lay on your sides.
He’s always had a heartbeat. That was strange to you when you noticed how it skipped and jumped whenever you touched him. But it was comforting, hearing the rhythmic thuds as you slept. It was always steady and calm, but now it was erratic, going way too fast and skipping.
You slow your breath, and continue to graze your hand along his face. Up and down his cheeks and down his neck. You're unsure if it's to comfort him, or for you as you constantly reassure yourself that you can touch him - feel him.
“… that… feels nice,” he says with a faint smile. You peer up from his chest and squeeze your way up so you’re face to face.
He looks so dreamy like this… even if he’s sick with some sort of weird… demonic flu. You card your fingers through his hair, trying to fix it for him so it lays nicely on his forehead.
You heart flutters in your chest, it almost aches with how much you want to kiss him. Tracing your fingertip along the curves of his face, you slowly let it find a spot on his chin.
It would be so easy, you could just.. plant one on him.
Swallowing the nervousness away you straighten your shoulders before resting again.
“Can I… could I kiss you?”
He doesn’t say yes, he doesn’t nod, but he doesn’t protest either. But he does squeeze you tighter against him.
“Please,” you whisper sweetly, so sickeningly sweet that you swear you feel his chest fall with a sharp breath.
His eyes are still closed, with his lashes lightly fluttering. You lean in close, your lips ghosting against his. His breath is warm, he smells sweet like candy. You wait a moment, holding your breath as you stay still. Frozen in position, never making impact.
You could kiss him.
You want to kiss him.
But you can't. Not while he's like this.
You're caught off guard. Your eyes widen, your heart skips a beat. His warm lips are suddenly pressing against yours. He groans, his warm breath escapes through his nose as he eagerly kisses you again. This time much… much more hungrier than before. What were a few chaste, tender peaks soon turned wet, long and loud kisses. You're suddenly feeling light headed with how little air you’re breathing... you're ready to kiss him again when he gently pulls away from you.
Your lashes flutter as your vision clears. Zayne's heaving with sharp breaths, his eyes are darting around the room and his hand is twisting at his chest. He quickly pats at his neck, nervously and compulsively scratching his skin there as he lightly parts his lips.
“I shouldn’t have done that,” he groans.
You can feel the heat rising in your face again, your eyes welling up with tears as your hands tighten into fists.
Betrayal hits you first. Was he just using you? Of course he was...
“What is wrong with me? You don’t even - why are you even here?!” You yell all at once, your fists ready to pound at his chest. He’s quicker than you, he always has been. He grabs at your wrists, gently bracing you from hitting him.
“I meant, I should have done it with more clarity first,” he carefully releases your wrists and cradles your head. His fingers tenderly begin playing with your hair as he presses your body into him.
“I shouldn’t have kissed you while I was in a state. I would have preferred it if - "
“If what?” You finally chime in with sniffles still in your nose.
He exhales a shallow laugh, “perhaps I could have taken you out for dinner first."
You can’t help but snicker, his stupid humour still gets you into a giggly mood.
After a moment of silence, of just cuddling him and feeling his skin against yours, you finally perk up again.
“Zayne, can you please tell me what’s going on?”
You feel him blinking, and you gently pry yourselves away from each other as you sit up in your bed. He looks better than he did before, the gaunt overlay on his features has lifted, as if his entire energy has been refreshed.
He exhales a long breath, he doesn’t sugar coat his words.
“You understand what I am.”
You confidently nod a few times.
“You understand what I need from you.”
You blink twice, your gaze circles within your bedroom before you nod less confidently this time.
“It’s been a long time. My energy is contingent on you, and being around you. However - "
He pauses briefly.
You watch him with a careful gaze, with your brows gently furrowed as you listen.
“Each time I drink from you, you will become weaker. And each time I… if I were to. If we were to have intercourse, I would deplete you of all of your energy. Leaving you weaker and weaker each time until you - "
“... Until I what? Die?” You answer for him.
He grimly nods, his expression cold and detached.
Your knees are pulled up towards your chest as you think over his words. You’d assume there was some sort of equivalent exchange. Sure, the fantasy novels you read told great stories with fantastic lore. Or at least they tried to while the rest was filled with smut so readers could get off to monster fucking without major judgement -
But, you didn’t think it would be like this -
“Have you…done this with other… human… women?”
Zayne clears his throat, “no.”
Your curiosity is piqued, “why not?”
“I don’t particularly like using women for sexual pleasure and energy only to hurt them in the end.”
“So… why did you pick me?”
He shakes his head, “I didn’t. You were just the next woman assigned to me.”
You snort, “so I’m not special is what I’m hearing.”
His lips curl into a small smile.
“So what happened to all those other women? Did you cuddle with them too?”
Zayne shakes his head, “I barely interacted with them. The less I saw them, the more likely it was that I would be shifted and assigned to someone new. I’ve seen hundreds of faces as they slept, but I can’t remember any of them. They’re all just a mix of features that turn into nothingness.”
“So I am special,” you purse your lips and snicker at him.
A laugh rumbles at his chest, “yes, yes you are.”
“So… what was this then?” You gesture vaguely around him and towards the half wet towel still beside your bed.
The mood shifts again, “consequences and side effects from not fulfilling my duties.”
You do the math in your head, if he’s had hundreds of other suitors but ignored all of them…
“Wait, is this the first time you’ve… been sick?”
He nods, “yes.”
“But you’re okay now? With some - kisses?”
“Yes.”
Your eyes scan your room as you gently touch different parts of your body. He watches you as you blink at him with purpose.
“What are you doing?” He asks with a raised brow.
You groan, “if you just need some kisses, then - kiss away!”
“It’s not like that,” he explains while shaking his head.
Your shoulders slump.
“I’ll keep wanting more. I’ll take and take until you can’t stop me. You won’t even notice your last moments before you slip away. You’d be overflowing with pleasure as your heart beats one last time.”
You suddenly shrink in your bed, your size looking comically small next to him and his large tail.
“What if… "
“There is no what if, I won’t do that again with you.”
“But.”
He groans, his voice laced with annoyance despite his rage not being directed at you. He pinches the bridge of his nose, his back still facing you.
“The sun is rising soon, get some sleep.”
Before you can finish your breath, you watch him as he fades away. Like the curtains were suddenly drawn closed as his form disappears into thin air.
Drawing into yourself, you feel your lip tremble as you hold in a sob. You knew you had feelings for him, but - maybe you were stupid.
Your eyes are tired as the sun rises from your window. You hadn’t slept a wink. A bright light suddenly shines into your eyes. You blink, trying to avoid the light. Sitting up, you look over at your nightstand to see the time. But then you see it.
The reflection. It's from the silver frame glasses he wore. With shaky hands you reach for them, edging closer slowly as if you were afraid they would disappear if you touched them.
Zayne’s never left anything behind before. Everything that manifests in with him in your bedroom disappears in the morning every time.
The cold rim of the glass sends shivers down your spine. Quickly grabbing onto them you realize they’re real. They’re still here. You can feel them. Bend the arms of the frame, you can see smudges of your fingerprints on the lenses from when you attempted to grab them off his face.
They’re real.
For the first time, you realize you’re not imagining everything.
Zayne’s real.