Chapter Text
Reggie folds his wings neatly against his back, eyeing the small chapel tucked into the woods in upstate Washington. It’s older, with a gothic style reminiscent of Notre Dame. But the darkness that clings to the weathered stone is from more than the cloud-covered moon.
Her presence is everywhere , tainting once holy grounds like blood in the water. A demoness under lust’s domain, if his senses serve him correctly. He scoffs quietly. Of course, they always go for the priests.
Honestly, he’s kind of amazed that Mesmyr let him have this mission. Most everyone in the Agency avoids placing him anywhere near demons if they can help it. He understands why, it’s just also frustrating.
The chapel is dark when he steps inside, not that that’s a problem for him. He stretches his senses a little and picks up a slow human heartbeat in one of the back rooms. Sleeping then. The lingering magic in the man’s mind clues him in that it’s an unnatural sleep. The demoness is sitting on the altar beneath the rosewood cross, shadows clinging to her like a second skin, invisible to human eyes.
He can see her perfectly. Petite, with curvy hips and slender horns rising from scarlet hair, her tail shorter than his own but thicker, curling and uncurling like a lazy cat.
She regards him with guarded curiosity. “You were not who I expected to come after me, little Nephalem.”
He rolls his eyes. “Please don’t call me that.”
She disappears, the feeling of fingers teasing up his spine and over his wings not surprising him in the slightest. “Mmmm then what should I call you? How about little Devil?”
He teleports away, crouching in the rafters and glaring down at her, his tail flicking with irritation even as his cock twitches with interest. “No.”
She smirks up at him, brushing crimson tresses behind her ear. “Ohhh darling, let's not play pretend. You cannot lie to me. I am Alessia, I am lust given form. And unlike the fools that hold your leash, I see what you want. ”
“And what do I want?” She is dangerous, dangerous to talk to, dangerous to give any kind of headway, but…
He's dangerous too.
“To let go. You don't want to be fed, you want to feed. You came here knowing that you would face a demon, someone you wouldn't have to hold back against.” She spreads her hands, inky black tentacles dancing around her legs. “You want to give in .”
Alessia's not wrong. As he's gotten older, it's harder to hold back the urges in his head, to constantly fight against the dark half of his nature, to ignore the constant buzz of desire that lingers under his skin.
It's difficult to satiate demonic blood.
Somehow, he manages to push the thoughts away. “Are you planning to flirt or fight?”
“Why not both?” Something snakes around his wings and yanks. He yelps, crashing through a pew and hitting the concrete floor. Another tendril wraps around his leg and he's sent through the wall. Shaking the rubble from his feathers, a quick wingbeat puts him back inside the church. He charges the demoness, but her form flickers and she’s back on the altar, tentacles of shadow yanking him to the ground once more, sending more wood flying as he crashes into yet another pew.
Growling, he tears through the shadows and leaps for her again, forced to evade at the last second to avoid crashing into the altar when she teleports yet again. The chapel is too small to unfurl his wings fully, restricting what he can do. And demons like her are immune to his fiend fyre. More tendrils wrap around his wings and his arms, dragging him back and forcing him to his knees. She stands in front of him, the shadows withdrawing from her body, revealing expanses of pale skin marked by a myriad of runes and tattoos. Her eyes glow as those pretty lips curve into a smile, flashing dainty fangs. He can see her as she really is, and her true form is both alluring and disturbing. Who would’ve thought a demon could have a dimple?
A claw runs up his throat. He’s hard as fuck, and the heel she grinds against the bulge in his jeans is not helping matters. She’s so close he can feel the heat radiating off her, the sweet scent of apples overwhelming his supernatural senses. There’s a thicker scent beneath it, something no human could pick up, the sickly sweet smell of sticky honey and rotten meat. It makes his mouth water.
“Is that the best you can do, little Devil? Morningstar will be so disappointed,” she croons, wrapping delicate fingers around one of his horns. Her touch sends a thrill down his spine, and he barely manages to stifle a moan.
He can't use his chains right now, the connection to his holy powers tenuous at best, the urge to sink into sin drawing him further and further from the light. Fiend fyre won't hurt her, and though physically he outmatches her, her shadows are too strong to snap a second time.
Which leaves him with one option.
“Actually, I think he'll be elated .”
Tapping into this power is wrong , but it's his , and it feels so right.
Black flames flare around him, burning away her tentacles and making the demoness recoil in shock. Reggie lunges, wrapping a hand around her throat and another around her arm and slamming her to the ground, the stone floor cracking from the force. He bares his fangs at her, wings arching over his head. Fear flickers through her eyes, and then, to his surprise, she starts to laugh. “Ohh what a naughty boy . You’ve been speaking to someone you’re not supposed to, little Devil. Only Morningstar knows how to use hellfire. And I doubt anyone at the Agency has allowed you to practice such a gift.”
He growls and tightens his grip around her throat, steam rising where his touch sears her skin. “I could kill you with it quite easily. The kind of death you can’t come back from.”
“And I can drag the soul of that priest you came to save down with me,” she hisses back, their faces mere inches apart, breath mingling in the small space. “Or, we can make a deal, little Devil.”
“...what kind of deal?”
Her eyes flick down and then back up, causing heat to rush to his face. Clothes don’t exactly stand up well to hellfire. “Allow me to satiate your desires, and I will release the priest from the bond I have made with him.”
“Why? What’s in it for you?” The fact that he’s even considering her offer is foolish, but Reggie doesn’t care. It’s tempting, to not have to hold back, to let go of every inhibition he’s had about being with someone else. As much as he wants to with Lonnie, he’s terrified that he’ll scare him off, or somehow manage to hurt the practically invulnerable gargoyle. But he doesn’t care if he hurts the demoness, and she won’t care either, so maybe this is his chance to finally see what it’s like.
…gods, maybe he is the monster everyone thinks he’s going to be.
“Being able to say I bedded a Nephalem holds more weight in our world than you think. And feeding on your energy will be far more satisfying than any human I could feed from.” His loosening grip allows her to lift her head, plump lips grazing his ear. “I want to know what you taste like, little Devil.”
Fuck it.
He teleports them both, hellfire cooling to simple fiend fyre as he bends her over the altar, sinking his fangs into her shoulder at the same moment that he thrusts deep into her wet heat, drawing a long moan from the succubus. Her more dextrous tail wraps around his, teasing and tugging, which just works to urge him on more.
The cross on the altar is burning, but he hardly notices.
His claws drag over her supple hips, making her whine, his other hand sure to leave bruises around her throat. The pace he sets is grueling, and with a Nephalem’s strength he would’ve injured a normal human woman at this point, but Alessia rocks her hips back to meet his thrusts, her ragged panting like music to his ears. Her slick drips down thick thighs, steam rising from where his flames lap hungrily at her body. Her silky folds envelop him so perfectly, blissfully tight every time he sinks deep into her. She pulls away, and he growls, about to yank her back, but she simply turns, gracefully raising herself onto the altar and spreading herself for him, beckoning with a single black claw. He goes willingly, claws digging into the meat of her plump ass, his other hand buried in her hair while he ruts against her, her breathy moans and gasps and praise snaking into his ear.
His release builds and builds, and he only pauses briefly when he spills in her the first time. Reggie feels the brush against his mind and glowing eyes snap open, flames flaring again as he yanks her head back by her horn. “ Don’t even think about it, slut.”
“Hmm such a good boy, staying on your guard,” Alessia purrs, not fazed in the slightest about getting caught. “Can you blame me for trying though?” Her claws drag down his wings, caressing the spot where they meet his broad back and making him shudder. “To have a Nephalem under my power would be exhilarating.”
After his second release, he decides to try something different. He dips his head, painting her breasts and her neck with his lips and his teeth. Withdrawing from inside her, he kneels, nipping at her belly, her hips, leaving a trail right down to her dripping core, tongue diving deep. A hungry slurp makes her arch and bury her hand in his hair. “The mighty Nephalem, kneeling for a simple succubus like me? I never expected such adoration.” He bites her thigh in response, earning a hiss from her. Plunging his tongue back into her, he feasts greedily, honeyed nectar dripping down his chin. An idea comes to mind, and his hands burn as they press to her thighs. A scream, and her walls pulse around his tongue when she climaxes, her tendrils caressing his wings and he finds himself aching to be buried inside her again.
When he goes to stand, the tendrils coil and yank, bringing him to the ground. His glare and flash of fangs is ignored, the demoness already straddling his hips, sinking onto his length, her hands braced against his chest. He tosses his head back with a groan, tail throwing up sparks where it lashes over stone. She rolls her hips, grinding down onto him before raising them and then engulfing his cock with her heat once more.
“Fuck,” he hisses between gritted teeth, his wings fluttering against the concrete floor. He grips her hips tightly, his own rising to meet hers every time. Fangs sink into his neck, a choked moan spilling from his reddened lips at the same moment that he spills inside her for a third time.
And yet he wants more.
His powers writhe beneath his skin, flames devouring each and every scrap of fuel they’re fed, and she is a kerosene-soaked oil well. Somewhere, deep within his mind, guilt is smothered by the inferno. Who can judge him, when his damnation was burned into his feathers from the beginning?
Time loses meaning, and he loses track of how many times they’ve changed position, of how many times he’s drawn screams from her, hurt her, of how many times he’s filled her to the brim, each time wanting to fill her again. Desire burns less brightly than wrath, but for far longer. He feels no love for her, nor she for him, both merely a means to an end, a bargain upheld.
And when finally they both lay spent upon the floor of the ruined chapel, it is the first time in his life that his mind feels so clear, so quiet, his lust slaked in pain and a succubus’ heat.
Alessia is the first to rise, inky shadows giving her the illusion of modesty. “As agreed, I have freed him.” She tilts her head, an amused smile flitting across her face. “You know that Kyros will merely summon me again. My poor little toy cannot bear to be without my touch, my powers. And what’s more, I know about your little secret, sweet little Nephalem.”
Reggie looms over her in an instant, eyes flickering and flames licking at his wings. “Are you threatening me, Alessia?”
She smiles, running a hand up his chest. “No. I am extending an invitation, and perhaps next time we can share in the worship of my most devout follower. He is quite an obedient little thing, after all.”
It’s sinful, how much the idea has his tail twitching with excitement. “So long as you don’t tell a soul, I’ll consider it.”
“We have a deal, little Devil.”