skybloodfox:

Incubus Jack

Okay, here we go. Incubus Jack and Priest Rhys. Not how I planned but it’s pretty good! (I hope).

Notes: VERY NSFW. Menstrual blood. Blood. Demons. Incubus Jack. Trans Rhys. Mentions of breeding. Written on mobile (my poor thumbs!).

hys sighed and ran his hands through his hair as the last parishioner left the church for the night. The church had held a fundraiser for a children’s wing in hospital and the community had come out armed with donations, auctions, and some pretty amazing volunteered food. But it was almost one in the morning and Rhys was exhausted.

Not to mention…

He shook his head and walked towards the churches main doors. He peeked his head outside and saw the empty parking lot. Not a soul in sight. He went to close the door and lock it for the night when a finely crafted mens leather shoe stopped the door from shutting.

Rhys stared at the shoe before he felt a slight push against the door, and against the sinking feeling in his gut, he hesitantly opened it.

Blue and green eyes on a tanned face with ink black hair greeted Rhys. His lashes fluttered as a slow grin crawled across the handsome features.

“Hello, Cupcake.”

It took Rhys a few seconds before he remembered how to speak and when he did, his voice was a small whisper.

“Jack.”

Jack stared at Rhys and Rhys returned the stare until Jack sighed, his grin turning to one of amusement.

“Well, are you going to let me in or are you going to ruin this fine Italian leather of a shoe?” Jack gestured to his foot.

Rhys looked to the shoe in question before he stepped back and opened the door wide enough for Jack to enter. Jack slipped inside, humming as he walked around the remains of the fundraiser, while Rhys shut and locked the door.

Jack walked along some of the auctioned items still left on the tables that would be delivered the next day. He leaned close to an egg cooker, then to a small heater still in the box. He ran his fingers along the auction lists of names and phone numbers, tracing the curves of people who had bid on a carving of a duck and a home made quilt. The bids weren’t great, not nearly enough to build the wing.

“How’d the auction go, Rhysie?” Jack peered at a collection of porcelain dolls from the 1930s.

Rhys collected several folding chairs and stacked them in the corner. He’d put them away in the morning and give the wooden floor a good mopping, let it dry the days heat. He paused at Jack’s words before sighing.

“It went better then expected, to be honest. Several people not connected to the church came out and wanted to help and show their support which was really nice.”

“I bet,” Jack wandered over to a table of left over pies and sweets. His eyes ran among a French pie and he pursed his lips as he straightened. “You eat yet?”

Rhys paused again before he shot Jack a tired smile. “Not yet, no. I wanted to tidy up before I eat anything.” Rhys said before he gasped, his hand flying to his waist as he doubled over. He clutched the edge of a chair and squeezed his eyes shut, breathing thorough clenched teeth.

A warm hand settled on his back, rubbing soothing circles. Rhys drew in a shaky breath and stood up, casting Jack a nervous smile.

“Sorry, I just, it’s been such a long day–”

Jack held up the French meat pie.

Rhys blinked at the pie before he snorted and rolled his eyes. He took it from Jack’s hand and wordlessly led the way to his private apartment at the back of the church.

Rhys switched on several lights, letting Jack enter before he shut his apartment door and headed for the small kitchen. He popped the pie into the microwave while he fished in the fridge for some leftover mashed potatoes.

Without a word, Jack set the table, plates and cutlery, two glasses for wine. He reached for the wine bottle on top of the fridge and pulled it down. He poured two full glasses before he took a seat and set the almost empty bottle on the table.

When the pie was done, Rhys pulled it from the microwave and placed it on the table. Jack leaned close and took a deep whiff of it. Rhys smiled as Jack groaned.

“I haven’t smelled this in a long time.” Jack mused as he poked at the pie with his fork.

Rhys shot him a tired smile. “How long is long?”

Jack hummed to himself, thinking, as the potatoes heated. “I think a Voyagers wife made me one as thanks.”

Rhys blinked at Jack blankly until Jack waved his fork at him. “Let’s just say a long time ago.”

The microwaved pinged in completion and Rhys carefully took the reheated potatoes from it and placed it on the table. He sat down and joined Jack, crossing himself before giving thanks for the meal he was about to eat.

Jack rolled the fork in his hand, his elbow propped on the table as he rested his chin on his palm, waiting patiently for Rhys to finish. When he did, he took a sip of wine as Rhys cut into the pie and mashed potatoes. He gave Jack a slice of pie and together they ate.

Jack’s gaze was fixed on Rhys, watching as Rhys would occasionally pause or softly gasp, noting the way he squirmed on his chair. Jack licked his lips as Rhys finally finished both his food and wine.

“Better, Rhysie?” Jack cooed.

Rhys nodded wordlessly, his eyes starting to droop. “I’m tired though.”

“Then let’s go to bed.”

–

Rhys’s collar was hidden away in his closet, along with his picture of Christ and crosses. Those symbols always brought him spiritual and emotional support, but now he wanted them tucked away, as if he could hide the sins he was committing from Gods very gaze.

He was naked and on his back on top of the sheets, his legs spread wide, his thighs held far apart by the strong, tanned, broad shoulders that rubbed his belly and stroked the softness of his inner thighs.

Rhys hummed, his eyes shut as he dreamily rolled his thighs onto the hungry mouth licking and sucking his cunt. He was wet, practically dripping, but as a cramp squeezed his insides he almost rolled onto his side, whimpering with pain then flushing hotly as he felt blood seep out, only to be caught by Jack’s talented tongue.

He risked a glance down and groaned as he caught Jack’s gaze and the blood smeared on Jack’s nose and lips. He squeezed his eyes shut as another cramp washed over him and he tried to ignore the way Jack chuckled.

“Hmmm, you taste delicious, cupcake.” Jack gently eased back the hood protecting Rhys’s clit before he placed a tender kiss on it. Rhys entire body twitched at the touch and Jack smiled, giving the bud a long lick that left Rhys shaking and trying to push Jack off.

“I-I always thought blood was bad,” Rhys whispered. He desperately fought the trembling as Jack tongued his clit.

“Mmm, no. Menstrual blood is a damn treat to us,” Jack ran a hand along Rhys’s pelvis, “it screams: “fertile, breed me, fill me up with life, I ache being empty.”

Rhys huffed, opening his eyes to glare down at Jack. “No it doesn’t.”

Jack smiled before he lifted his body and slipped between Rhys’s thighs, his arms framing Rhys’s head as he rolled his hard cock against Rhys’ inner thigh.

“No? Want to prove me wrong?” Jack husked. He nosed Rhys’ cheek, smearing blood against the pale skin before Rhys turned his head and reluctantly offered his mouth to Jack. He spread his legs and wrapped them around Jack’s hips, whimpering as he felt the hard cock rub against his blood and slick wet cunt. He pulled away when Jack pushed in and cried out when he thrust into him roughly.

Rhys wrapped his arms around Jack’s shoulders, pulling him to his body as Jack fucked him, the hair on Jack’s chest teasing Rhys’ sensitive nipples. He clung on, even as the slim leather wings slipped free from Jack’s back and surrounded them. He held on, his cries rising as Jack pressed their foreheads together and for a split second Rhys saw the scar on Jack’s face. He held on even as he pressed kisses to the scar, loving the way Jack’s hips stilted and stuttered with each touch.

Rhys held on as Jack slipped a finger down and rubbed his clit to orgasm, Rhys’ mouth falling open in a silent scream as he came and Jack followed soon after.

When he opened his eyes next, the scar and wings were gone and they were underneath the blankets, nuzzling. Rhys squirmed, flushing as he felt cum and blood threatening to drip free.

“I need to get up or the sheets will ruined.” Rhys murmured.

“Hmm… You know you’ll never get enough funds for that stupid hospital thing, right?” Jack stretched amongst the cotton sheets.

Rhys sighed. “Something will happen. I have faith.”

Jack kissed his forehead and gently pushed him towards the bathroom. “Go do your human things. I’ll be right here. It’s a waste of good blood if you ask me.”

Rhys rolled his eyes.

–

The next morning Rhys awoke to an empty bed but a roll of cash and a note from Jack.

‘Don’t ever let anybody say Incubus Jack never dotted on his favourite human. Build that stupid human thing. And get more pie.’

Rhys smiled, pressing his face against the sheets as he held the money close.