As of recent, you had been receiving vivid yet oddly pleasing dreams. Oftentimes, you’d find yourself in tender scenarios with an unknown other presence, typically in a loving embrace.

During one of these nights, you found yourself in that same position, as usual. This time, the presence embracing you held you tighter than usual, caressing your limbs reverently. It became such that it had slowly stirred you awake.

When you emerged from the dream, you noticed that the sensations had followed you outside of your subconscious. Instinctively, you shifted in bed, trying to wake yourself up.

However, you realized that the lingering sensations of the embrace were in fact real, and had not been a dream all this time. Your mouth was being covered by a rough, calloused hand, causing adrenaline to shoot through your body as a panic response.

As your movements grew stronger, so did whatever was embracing you. You looked down to realize it was never limbs that held you, but rather a collection of grey tendrils—both thick and thin—that wrapped around the expanse of your body possessively.

Through your mirror’s reflection, you could see what appeared to be an incubus holding you in a vice grip. He only wore a loose-fitting robe tied around his waist and simple undergarments. A black mask covered the lower half of his face.

It appeared that the tendrils came from the incubus’s body, which was littered with old scars and stitches. His eyes were quite unique, having red sclerae and green irises. There were small yet sharp horns on top of his head, both a deep ebony color. Despite these monstrous traits, they seemed to add to the demon’s allure, making him seem more attractive.

When you attempted to move again, the incubus let out a low, threatening rumble. Thick biceps held you in place as he firmly pressed you against his broad, muscular frame. The hand around your mouth tightened slightly, but the roughness was contrasted by his thumb rubbing along your cheekbone tenderly.

“Hush…” The incubus whispered lowly in your ear, his voice akin to gravel wrapped in silk. “Do not give me trouble. Let me feed.”

A small group of thin tendrils came from the incubus to carefully caress your cheek, as if tasting the skin.