Work Text:
Caelus had his eyes on him for a while now. A surprise, since he never targeted priests before. They were rigid and grubby, too much work for a meal, even if the occasional sometimes did succumb to sin of his kind. But those stories might as well be fairytales.
This one in particular… Hair weaved from the finest silver, eyes that gleamed like sunrise chasing the night away. Devoted wings, a gift from the angels themselves, a thorned halo which might as well depict the entire concept of religion: suffocating, restricting, step out of line and sin bites back. Quite close-minded, weren’t they? Sin only bit if you wanted it to.
This man—Sunday, was it? Truly the golden child of the church. Such a beautiful North Star for followers and God’s representatives the like, guiding the lost back toward grace, even if some blindly followed him for less than divine intentions. Like flies attracted to rotten flesh. Caelus could almost cry at the sheer wholesomeness of it all!
Just kidding.
A knowing grin stretched across his face as he perched on the edge of the priest’s windowsill, moonlight painting his back. Looks like someone has strayed a little too far from his original religion. How… entertaining.
Believing in both the Harmony and the Order, beliefs were bound to war. And the collateral damage would cost him before his sacrilegious transgressions were inevitably revealed.
Caelus licked his lips as he padded across the rug, until he stood in front of the sleeping figure. Upon closer inspection, Sunday was indeed attractive, with his lips parted and unreasonably irritating eyes closed. Some must’ve called him the devil in disguise for his beauty, although nowadays, people were led to believe that the angels were the outwardly beautiful ones. It was almost poetic.
In the end, his looks? A nice bonus, but not necessary, when all Caelus wanted was his virgin cock.
Weightlessly, his bare feet landed on the mattress, each on the sides of Sunday’s hips. Caelus silently fell on his knees, not yet touching, but still somewhat straddling this “pure” man. But if he truly were pure, Caelus wouldn’t have gotten this far in his pursuit. He would’ve been kicked out from the start.
With one hand by Sunday’s head to support his weight, Caelus leaned closer, until his breath ghosted over Sunday’s eyelids.
Hmm, what shall he do? What shall he conjure in this man’s dreams, defile his brain until his already-fragile loyalty forsakes and turns to the third option? Decisions, decisions…
A claw lightly trailed up Sunday’s abdomen—as if afraid he might break skin—until the sharp tip rested upon his forehead. He tenderly brushed his messy bangs aside, almost patronizing in a way, before cupping his cheek. He bent his head, pointed teeth short from cutting the man’s ear off, plump lips shy from kissing his earlobe.
Thus, promises dripped from his tongue; each hushed demonic word slithered into his ear canal, flooding until it waterlogged the Halovian’s brain, so that the unadulterated allure of this poor, starving succubus—
Agony shot through Caelus’s throat like a silver bullet, tearing through the spinal cord and every live nerve ending. His head jerked back, mouth flew open in a wail he silenced at the last moment. He bit his lower lip and clenched his jaw, then glared down at Sunday. His serpentine tail flicked restlessly behind him.
Tsk. Someone still had purity protecting him, huh? Was it the Harmony or the Order?
Ah, who fucking cares? All that mattered was that Caelus was pissed. Of course this priest still had one final barrier, even though it was quite ironic, given that his battles were internal.
Oh well. Adaptation was a dear friend of shapeshifters like him. And one didn’t need to be awake to ejaculate.
That settles it! Grinning impishly, Caelus sat up and slid his palms down Sunday’s sides.
“Don’t wake up,” he whispered, even when he knew his words fell on deaf ears. “Let me have some fun.”
Wrapping a finger around the loop, he smoothly untied the belt around Sunday’s waist. Caelus pushed the robes aside to expose milky skin, like a follower delicately opening the holy passage. He descended, gliding his nose up the middle of his chest, inhaling the sweet scent of power, then darted his tongue out to coyly taste that hint of natural salt.
It was quite strange, treating food so delicately. Perhaps it was because he was still asleep that arose the instinct to stay cautious until the victim was fully ensnared.
Well, he’ll be careful… but only for a little while.
Caelus peppered kisses to the side, then licked a long stripe up a nipple. His sharp teeth grazed the areola before they gently clasped around the nub, his tongue swirling and flicking until it hardened under his attention. Switching to the other side, he worked to coax the same reaction while his finger traced circles around the abandoned nipple, not enough to draw blood but enough to leave raw marks the next day.
He bit down a tad harder and tugged, sucking on the tender skin—Sunday’s deep breathing faltered. Yet he didn’t wake.
Caelus released the abused nipple and shuffled down to fully open his Christmas present. The robes fell apart, revealing Sunday in his entire glory, save for his boxers. He raked his claws down Sunday’s torso, down to the waistband—the last barrier from his ultimate gift. Without further preamble, he roughly shoved them down to his thighs.
Caelus pouted slightly as one knuckle lifted the small, soft dick. Poor thing, cockblocked by the cruelest cage humanity could make. With no significant other to bypass the rule too.
Poor, poor thing, the words echoed in his mind, as he licked the cock into his mouth, and lowered his head until his nose hit thick hair. Hollowing his cheeks, he pulled away, pushed back down, coaxing the blood from Sunday’s head to his dick—it gradually grew in size, stretching Caelus’s lips open, thicker and harder. The succubus spat his erection out, revealing a transformation he was quite proud of.
Mm, such perfection. The swollen penis glistened under the moonlight streaming through the window; the head cutely pink, practically begging to be satiated. Sunday lay there unaware, his lashes unmoving, chest heaving under sleep. His body comically betrayed his internal “dedicated servitude” to the “Lord” by keeping him unaware amidst this impiety… A form of karma, wasn’t it?
Caelus spread his legs and lifted his ass so Sunday’s cockhead could rub enticingly against his lubricated puckered hole. Looking down at Sunday’s peaceful expression, a wicked chuckle bubbled up in his lungs. He rocked back and forth to warm, loosen his asshole with the heat of a priest, to ready himself for a night of prosperous reaping. Finally, with a blissful exhale, he sank down.
Immediately, the addicting burn of being stretched shot a jolt straight to his groin. Caelus purred, then lowered himself faster than he could handle—a high-pitched whine escaped through his wince. Deserved, but who could blame him for being impatient, especially when he had a dick buried deep inside?
Bracing his hands on the sheets, Caelus slowly rode Sunday. His breathy huffs of air broke the fragile silence amidst the silent bedroom; another descent, another moan… He instinctively closed his eyes.
“Yes,” he whispered, quickening his hips, “mm, so good.” He ground down, finding the spot that sent sparks to his own half-hard cock. Reaching down, he wrapped his fingers around and leisurely stroked his dick, while he continued to milk Sunday from his self-worth. His head fell back, gently bobbing with each bounce, and his eyes rolled back ever so slightly.
Sunday sighed softly, accompanied by a little, barely audible whimper. Caelus reached back to fondle the man’s balls, eliciting another groan from both of them. He licked his lips.
“Such a good boy, aren’t you?” he drawled, snickering to himself. “I’m almost tempted to wake you up just to see your reaction.”
Caelus leaned forward and mouthed against Sunday’s pulse as he resumed fucking him. His warm tongue slithered upward, until they reached one of Sunday’s dormant wings. He pecked the feathers reverently, acting like he cared about this mortal, followed by sinfully wet kisses that drew out quivers from the delicate wing—it arched into his lips, as if begging for more.
He lifted his ass to the point where Sunday’s cock nearly slipped out, before slamming down again. Sunday’s head tilted to the side; Caelus’s growl grazed the flesh under the feathery layers.
“Yeah, fuuuck,” the latter hissed out, his hand working harder on his dick. Gathering some of his own precum on his thumb, Caelus dragged it across Sunday’s lower lip, allowing him a taste of freedom in his dreams, if any. The sight of this holy man, brows slightly furrowed, wings spread open, face and chest flushed, parted lips glittering—Caelus lunged forward and bit down on his inner lip.
Exploring someone’s unmoving mouth was quite strange, but he was too damn close to care. He muffled his choked whimpers against Sunday’s lips, his hips rocking faster, his nails digging into the pillow where the man’s head rested on. Caelus pushed harder, licked and sucked, tasting Sunday’s breaths which only grew shallower; then pulled out confused whimpers from his surfacing consciousness.
As Caelus sat up, Sunday’s eyelids finally fluttered open, dazed and confused by the blur of colors above his lying figure. The first thing he noticed was nude skin, chiseled edges of bare chest moving up and down, firm thighs pressing against the sides of his hips; the second thing…
Fuck, wait. Sunday blinked, trying to peer through the stubborn haze clouding his head. Fiery flames of desire licked his cold body, all trailing down toward there, hard and tight and… unbearably comforting—
His muscles tensed, frozen in place. All his remaining energy accumulated in one spot, then a guttural moan, deeply uncharacteristic and unholy, tore his mind apart. His mouth opened yet uttered no word, almost like he wanted to repent, for this God’s representative has gone to mortal heaven and back. His body tingling from indulgent bliss, Sunday slumped into the mattress in defeat, the afterglow coming in waves, silencing him.
The movement on his spent cock stopped, and a somewhat thick fluid landed on his cheek and chin. Horror pooled low in his stomach, and he tried to focus on that feeling instead of the godless satisfaction.
A face came into view. Short grey hair, like ashes after suffocated fire. Yellow, perhaps even gold eyes that resembled his, crinkled at the sides. A smile blown wide, conceited and satisfied, and finally, the succubus’ words registered.
“...Heyyy, can you hear me? Or did you just come all of your braincells out?” Caelus sneered.
“You…” Sunday seethed. “You wretched spawn of hell. How dare you engage in… sexual acts with me while I was unconscious?” The Harmony slowly seeped into every word that rolled off his tongue. “Abusing people’s vulnerabilities while asleep, your kind truly has no shame—”
Caelus rolled his eyes and yawned, which made the priest pause. “Yappity yap yap, can you just shut up? That shit’s not gonna work on me.” He shoved a finger into Sunday’s mouth and dragged a sharp nail up the man’s tongue.
The latter choked, saliva spluttering out as he tried in vain to spit the intrusion out. But he was too weak.
“Look at you. I would take a picture of you right now and show everyone just how sexy you look with cum all over your face.” He pulled his finger away and watched the shock and disgust reel back on Sunday’s face at twice the intensity.
The man looked like he was about to cry at the revelation of what was on his face. Caelus barked out a haughty laugh.
“Alright, I had my fun.” He released Sunday’s limp dick and stood up on the mattress. His bat-like wings spread out wide on his sides, looming over Sunday’s pitiful little angel wings. “Sleep with one eye open, Sunny, since your defenses are not as strong as you may think…”
And with one final grin, the succubus flew out of the open window and vanished into the early day.
Sunday shakily sat up on his bed and stared at the sheets, too clean compared to the scandalous acts moments ago, to the secretion on his face dripping down, mocking him. He didn’t have to clean the mattress nor dispel the scent of sex, for the succubus had already absorbed everything he needed. It was as if everything was just a bad dream.
But the moment he reluctantly touched his face, he knew that this moment, uncaptured by the world, was only his to remember and keep a secret, amongst others.