pairing: Y/N x Alastor
*summary: *Y/N has been forced to continuously dance at Mimzy's club for the radio demon Alastor.
But one night...Alastor will invite Y/N to his mansion for a...private show*
*Your POV*
You have been dancing nonstop at Mimzy's club for going over three weeks now, day in and day not. The soles of your feet are blistered and stinging with each step, as if you're stepping on knives whenever you walk. In this situation, some days you feel like Ariel in The Little Mermaid story. Not the Disney version, the original dark tale, where Ariel was mute, and each step she took she felt as if she walked on knives.
No matter how much you've wanted to leave, Mimzy refused it. Though deep down, Mimzy would gladly get rid of your presence if it meant she didn't have to see your beautiful face that stole the man of her dreams, Mimzy's hands are tied.
If she got rid of you, she would upset Alastor.
And everyone knows that you do not want to upset the Radio Demon.
So, for three weeks, you have been forced to stay and dance for the Radio Demon's happiness. One of your dislikes of this situation, is that you aren't getting a dime for your shows. You are dancing for free. Though the money situation is the least of your...frustrations.
The main reason of your frustration and dislike is...every time you are ready to dance on stage, Alastor demands that any demon or employee in the club leave, so that he may be the only one to see you dance.
It was disgusting almost...the way his eyes would watch your every movement in such a...hungry manner. It was sickening to you, and very much terrifying. You knew Alastor's reputation very well, and knowing the fact that he had taken such a strong interest in a lesser demoness like yourself, you couldn't help but wonder if there was something up his sleeve.
If possibly...he was planning something more than just watching you dance.
You were told by Mimzy to get ready to go back onstage, and instantly, you feel dread fill your stomach. This is the fifth time this week you've gone on stage and danced for his amusement. Your body is tired, aching, and so sore you can barely lift your arms.
Though...you had no choice. It was sad really, for years you danced for the enjoyment and art of it. But after meeting someone like Alastor, he's shaped your beautiful dance of art into a dance of survival...
You had no choice or say it in anymore, he had full control over that part of you.
With shaky hands, you delicately put on your black dancing shoes that resemble ballet slippers. You managed to keep this pair nice for three years, but in these three weeks, you already need a replacement pair.
When you rise to your feet to go have one final look in the mirror hanging on the wall, the door suddenly flew open, and in walks a rather...short demon, with black and white color skinned and black hair. His eyes the color of orange, and his face holding no emotion.
You curiously look over your shoulder at this...demon. The word Imp flashes across your head, but before you even have the chance to ask what his purpose is being here, the demon passes you a black envelope sealed with the color red.
"A letter addressed to you," he says in a quick voice, faint almost.
A letter?
Curiosity gets the best of you, and you gingerly break the seal and pull out a white piece of parchment paper, stained with the substance of red ink. You see the finely cursive writing on the paper, and you smell the faint scent of old cologne. You can't help but feel a little...swooned. You've never seen such fine cursive style writing before, nor have you smelled such a scent that's strong yet subtle at the same time.
It's almost romantic.
Your eyes scan the letter.
Darling, I am so dreadfully sorry, but I cannot make it to your lovely performance tonight. I have other important matters I need to attend involving a new business proposition, but nevertheless, my dear, I feel quite bad for missing your beautiful display. To make up for lost time, I am inviting you to dinner at my humble adobe tonight. I have sent a servant of mine to deliver this letter and be your escort. Of course, you have the option to deny my offer, though I recommend that you accept. For tonight shall be quite...entertaining, to say the least. Until we meet again, my insatiable dancer.
-Alastor
You gulp softly as you finish reading the letter, sent to you by the one who continues to force you to dance for his entertainment. You were looking forward to a night off. Guess you won't be getting that.
Though Alastor had said that you could deny his offer for dinner, you felt like those were false words, and that truly you had no choice but to accept his offer and have dinner at his house.
Your eyes glance at the small demon who stands patiently waiting in your dressing room. You exhale. "May you give me ten minutes to get ready?"
He nods, turning on his heels and heading for the door, before he shuts it gently behind him, leaving you alone with your thoughts and beating heart. This sudden offer surprises you, but at the same time, it was expected. You've been mentally preparing yourself for whatever Alastor was going to say and or do to you. Thankfully, he hasn't done anything...too unsettling.
He has though, expressed his deep love--or to use proper words--obsession for your dancing, and occasionally, he'll caress your cheek. All of which disturbs you, yet at the same time...you can't help but feel a little flustered. It's not often a demoness of your rank and status is able to keep the Radio Demon's interest for this long. In a way, it's an honor to you...strangely.
You approach the closet in the corner, opening its doors and scanning through the small selection of dresses and skirts. You don't have your own home in Hell, so your only sleeping place is this dressing room in Mimzy's club. She had protested you sleeping at her club, but Alastor made sure that she would grant this without any further...struggles.
Your hand touches a dark, forest green dress that stops just beneath your knees, while flower printed lace sleeves hang off your shoulders and run down to the end of your wrists. On the chest of the dress is a dark green flower head shaped like a rose, while everything else sparkles in the right light.
You pondered whether or not if this should be the dress to wear for tonight's dinner. No doubt, you did not want to give Alastor any ideas by wearing something revealing or...too nice. But you still wanted to appear classy to someone like him.
So, without hesitation, you slip on the forest green dress, putting your hair in a nice 1920's style bun, exhaling a breath before you leave the dressing room and walk for the exit of Mimzy's club. Your eyes search for Mimzy nervously, as if you're prey in a predator's den, but thankfully, Mimzy is nowhere in sight.
When you reach outside and step onto Hell's dirt ridden/drug laced sidewalks, your eyes widen when you see a limo waiting at the club's entrance, it's back door open, as one well-dressed driver waits for you to step inside the limo before he'll close the door behind you.
He sent a limo for you...how classy of him indeed.
You slowly climb into the back of the limo, the door shutting behind you as you watch the quite large demon open the driver's door and sits, hands on the steering wheel as he begins to drive away from the tiny club owned by Mimzy, and towards the mansion where your fan Alastor awaits.
You glance out the window, eyes following the demons who walk the sidewalks. Some demons causing mayhem, others simply trying to avoid it, and there being a select few who lean against a building...taking drugs.
You shudder. Such a disgusting place to be in. Though you yourself were a sinner in your human years, you can't help but wonder if it's possible for you to receive redemption and leave this hopeless place.
Ten minutes pass, and the limo stops in front of two large metal gates, its stone stairway leading up to the five-story high mansion with two peaking towers. You stare up at it, your jaw dropped. Such a huge home for one single man...it's almost as if it's a palace from a children's story book.
You giggle. Alastor does think highly of himself...much like a king does. So of course, this is expected of Alastor to have the grandest home in Hell. Possibly even grander than Lucier's home.
When the limo door opens and you are led up the stairway, your eyes glance at the rows of roses growing on the railing, its beautiful red flower heads reaching for the light of Hell. You are such a fan of roses...for they are the flowers that are always involved with romance and love. Admit it to yourself, you are a hopeless romantic.
The doors to Alastor's house are opened by two small demons, not as well dressed as the limo driver, but still in respectable clothes. The demon to your left clasps his hands behind his back, flicking a look towards the right side of the main part of the house.
"Alastor is waiting for you in the dining room."
You gulp. He's already waiting for you? How long has he been waiting for you, is the main question.
The demon leads you through a crimson painted hallway with black trimming and a polished wooden floor, until the hallway opens up into a large dining room, where a stone mantle fireplace sits in the corner, and a grand oak table fit for ten demons stand in the middle.
Your eyes take in all your surroundings, feeling as if you're walking through a scene in a fantasy story. There is red carpeting beneath the table's feet, and hanging on the fireplace stone mantle is the head of a male deer, it's horns large and reaching towards the sky as its taxidermized eyes stare lifeless into space.
You suddenly see Alastor, sitting on the chair to your left, his hands clasped on the smooth table as he stares down at a glass of wine beside him.
The demon bows. "She has arrived."
Alastor looks at you, his eyes seeming to fill with that same hungry stare he always gives you. Though this time...you also see a little excitement within his crimson gaze.
"Y/N darling! How wonderful it is to see you here!" Alastor rises to his feet, taking your hand to lead you to the chair beside him. He pulls the chair out for you to sit, and when you sit, he pushes it in. One of the many gentlemen codes Alastor has.
Alastor sits beside you. "Do tell me, how was your day? I'm quite curious. Did anything exciting happen? Were you engaged in a fun filled activity, but most of all," he leans towards you, smirking, his voice dropping to a whisper, "did you miss me?"
You freeze, not exactly sure how to respond to such a question. It wasn't like you could say that you didn't miss him to his face. The Radio Demon doesn't take kindly to anything he feels that is...disrespectful. In truth, no, you didn't miss him.
Though you do admit to yourself that he has crossed over your mind more than once today. A secret you will not give him the pleasure of knowing.
When you don't respond, Alastor leans away, sitting upright in his chair and exhaling a breath, before you hear him snap his fingers. Two servants enter the room, one carrying a tray with two dinner plates filled with a beautifully cut steak and roasted vegetables. The demon passes you and Alastor your plates, and that's when you notice that Alastor's plate is...bloody.
He catches you staring, and he smiles amusingly at your curiosity. "I prefer my meat raw. It tastes much more...fresh that way."
You gulp, clearing your throat before looking down at your own plate. It was cooked, thank God. But when you began to cut in with your knife, you noticed that it was still partially pink and bloody. You don't mind it, of course. You were thankful it was cooked at all, judging Alastor's...cannibalistic traits.
Hesitation keeps you from taking a bite, wondering if this steak is laced with poison, or something else to sedate you. And as if Alastor read your thoughts, he replies.
"You needn't worry, ma chérie. I find you much to entertaining to get rid of you. So please, don't let your food get cold, and enjoy your meal."
Alastor saying the words my dear in French was something you never believed would sound so...good. The way his R's rolled off his tongue so fluently and gracefully, it was as if he was French himself.
It made your heart pound.
You stab your silver fork in the meat, its juices oozing onto your plate as you raise the first bite to your lips. Its taste explodes in your mouth, leaving your heart fluttering. You haven't had such a good meal in years...due to the fact of being in Hell, and not being able to afford such lavish dishes personally stolen from the Earth realm.
You feel blessed to be given this meal.
As you continue to eat in silence, Alastor couldn't help but glance at you. He could see the smallest bit of blood on the corner of his lip, and the desire to lean over and lick it off you was burning inside of him. It was...so attractive, watching you cut into the meat, chewing on its tenderness, blood staining your lips during the process.
He felt a little turned on, to be honest. Anything involving either raw meat or watching demons fail at redeeming themselves always was arousing to him. Though watching you...he felt, extra excited.
Not helping himself, he reaches over and brushes his thumb against the corner of your lip, bringing his thumb to his lips as he tastes the blood he wiped off your face.
Your eyes widen a little, and Alastor smirks.
"Delicious," he respond, eyes locked on you with such intensity it leaves you breathless.
When both your plates were finished and taken away to the kitchen, Alastor snaps his fingers once more, and hovering in the air is a bottle of wine.
"Would you care for some wine?" he asks, though he doesn't wait for your approval, he takes your glass and pours you a cup anyways, passing it to you and awaiting your reaction to its taste. This bottle of wine was especially special to him, for it has been in his reserves for quite some time, saving it for a special occasion. And tonight, he says to himself, is a very special night indeed.
You raise the crystal wine glass to your lips, tipping it up before parting your lips to allow entrance of the wine. Its taste makes your face scrunch for a moment from how sour and aged it is. Though...you enjoy it.
Alastor sees the flicker of enjoyment, feeling a little pleased with himself. Tonight, he tends to take things slow. Even though deep down the desire to see you dance makes him want to take your hand and run into his study, he holds himself back.
Tonight, he wants more than just to see you dance. But he must be patient, and use his words carefully, to not scare you away. He senses you are still very agitated being around him and frightened of his presence. As you should, of course. Alastor is an intimidating man and a powerful Overlord. Though he will do anything for you to lower your guard ever so slightly, granting him access to your heart.
He wants to claim you...so that no other demon could ever have the chance to. He wants you to be his possession...his little dancer.
For the three weeks he's watched you dance, his desires have only grown stronger, to the point where it's almost sickening him. He should never allow a silly woman like yourself make him feel like this, and yet, you still somehow manage to captivate him, and keep him under your spell.
He cannot go another day feeling like this. He must give in to his desires. And so tonight, he will try and say anything to make you feel swooned, to the point where you cannot resist his charm any longer. He will admit...you have been his hardest challenge yet. For any other demoness, they would throw themselves willingly to him by just seeing his smile. Though you, have never done such a thing.
He likes the challenge though; it makes it much more worthwhile when in the end he does claim you.
After you had finished your wine, Alastor rises to his feet, extending his arm. "Would you care to follow me to my study, darling? I do believe it is time we get to the main point as to why I invited you here."
You feel fear flood your chest. Of course, the whole reason as to inviting you here was to see you dance. His letter even claimed that he felt dreadful for missing seeing me dance on stage. It was expected, and yet you still feel fear pulse through your veins as you follow him to his study.
Dancing on stage is different, for you are still in a public vicinity, where there are people nearby to help you if anything happens. But tonight, you are in Alastor's house. There is no body trustworthy to come to your aid if anything happens. You are officially...in the alpha wolf's den.
Alastor and you reach inside his study, to reveal a quite cozy room, with a library that stretches so far up into the ceiling you can't see the top. There are a few red and golden throw rugs on the wooden floor, and two large velvet chairs sitting in front of the fireplace with a little nightstand in between them.
Alastor releases your arm, approaching the corner where surprisingly, a beautiful grand piano stand. He sits on its stool, fingers reaching up to play a little tune that sounds heavenly. You can't tell if he is playing a part of a song he knows, or if he's just touching the keys randomly, but you still find it beautiful.
At some point, Alastor stands back on his feet, walking over to one of the two velvet chairs, sitting down and propping his legs over one of the armrests, laying sideways.
You feel your heart pound in your chest seeing him sit like that, while his eyes linger on you, almost inviting you to join him. Your thoughts are interrupted by the sudden flash of Alastor's shadow flying past you, going over to the piano and playing the exact cords Alastor played.
Your eyes fall on Alastor. "I-"
"Dance for me, my dear," he replies, smirking, "do it well enough, and I just might let you...seduce me."
Your eyes widen, as you take a step back, shaking your head. The thought of seducing Alastor is ridiculous, and something you don't even want to do. Yes, you confess, Alastor is very charming, and quite easy on the eyes, but seduction...that is far-fetched.
You continue to shake your head. "No, no, I won't dance for you." You're playing with fire denying the Radio Demon's demand. But you won't dance another step until you know his motives, why he's so obsessed with you.
Alastor smirks. It feels good to be told no more than once in such little time, though he does find it annoying. He rises to his feet, approaching you, slowly, until he stands face to face with you, merely giving you one inch of distance between the two of you.
"Y/N..." Alastor raises a hand, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. "I don't think you know what you're saying, or who you are saying it too."
You do know what you're saying, and who you are saying it too. You know damn well that he could kill you with one flick of his hand. But you stand your ground and stare up into his crimson gaze that glows in the dark.
"I won't dance for you," you say through gritted teeth and clenched fists, "not until you tell me why. Why do you want to see me dance so badly? Why are you so obsessed with me? Are you...are you interested in me?"
Briefly, Alastor is taken back. He didn't expect you to ask such questions like these, especially that last question. Was he interested in you? In some shape and form, yes. You are the first demoness to have ever held his interest this long...but at the same time, he's not keen to you romantically. This, more or less, is an obsession.
Alastor smirks, inhaling a breath. "I suppose I owe you that much," he says, "you...excite me darling. In all my life, and after life, I have never quite met someone such as you. Your dances seem to...captivate me," Alastor inhales a slight shuddering breath, his hand delicately tracing the lines of your neck. Once again, Alastor feels that...hunger within him, touching the softness of your skin, feeling your pulse through his fingertips. He wanted to lean down and kiss you on your neck, he wanted to taste how sweet your skin would be, he...wanted to sink his teeth into your flesh and taste your blood.
Alastor swallows the lump in his throat, allowing his hand to fall away from you. "But allow me to ask you this...have you ever danced with anyone? Or do you simply dance alone?"
The question catches you off guard, as you stutter an answer. "I-I...no, I haven't."
Alastor sees this as his opportunity, and he smirks, intertwining on of your hands with his, pulling close until your body nearly touches his chest. "Then let me be the first," he whispers, before you begin to feel yourself being pulled and pushed forward, your feet being forced to dance in a waltz sort of way.
Your eyes widen as this waltz begins, all of which Alastor leads. He...is a swift dancer. His feet never tripping, his hands gently yet firm on you, as he spins your body, extending you before pulling you back to him and dancing with such fluidity and quickness it leaves you breathless.
You find your heart rate going higher and higher with each step you take, feeling Alastor's energy bask onto you in such a...hungry way. Alastor dips you suddenly, one hand trailing up your backside, until it reaches the part where your dress is exposed, making you gasp softly, all of which he smirks at.
He lifts you back up, moving backwards and forward, spinning you, twirling you. You feel yourself, your heart, going weak within his arms, within this dance orchestrated by him. Any minute, you worry that you will lose yourself entirely in this breathless, captivating moment in time, where you and Alastor dance as if there is no tomorrow.
You had never felt the sensation of dancing with anyone...Alastor is your first. And deep down...you love it. You love how he sees the art in the dance, feels it's power and allows himself to be basked within its beauty and grace.
But this is just more than a simple waltz. This is a dance of dominance, of power...of desire. Alastor spins you again, and you reach to cup his face in that moment when everything is still, your fingers hesitantly graze his skin, and he fights to keep his control.
The two of you part, spinning, before meeting together in the middle again, waltzing towards the exit, and returning to the center of the study.
You look up to see his face, and instantly, you regret it. Because upon seeing his face...you slowly begin to feel your heart weakening, it's walls crumpling.
Alastor...was a stunning man. His crimson red eyes, his charming smile, his red and black hair and deer ears...his lips...
You wanted to reach out and touch him, but fear keeps your hands away. Alastor is the definition of wanting something so terribly but being denied it at all costs. He was the living example of it...and you are not the first demoness to know that.
In that spilt second, Alastor notices the flicker in your eyes, and a sensation of excitement floods his chest. Your walls are finally breaking...he's getting nearer to finally having you succumb to him completely. He needs only to play his final hand of cards perfectly...to succeed.
Alastor is the first to stop the dance, and the two of you stand there, breathless, hands clasped into one another. You wait to see if he will say something first, or if you'll have to be the one to break the silence.
Alastor reaches to push aside a strand of your sweat-soaked hair away from your eyes, so that he may be the only one you see...the only one you feel in this moment.
He exhales a soft breath. "How you continue to captivate me is beyond my knowledge, darling..."
Your heart flutters. Being called Darling...it's such a dangerous word, for said in the right tone and right moment, any woman could succumb to it. And Alastor...he knew all too well how to say the word Darling just right and succeed in winning anyone over in just an instant.
"Why don't we...make a deal?" he asks softly. Your eyes widen. Alastor's deals were never too take lightly...for anything you want, you must exchange your soul in return.
You shake your head. "I don't want too." You whisper, in such a sweet and gentle tone, Alastor can't help but laugh softly.
"Not for your soul, sweetie. Just a simple deal..." he grasps your chin, forcing your eyes to stare into his. "I will give you a place to stay in my humble abode. Anything you desire, whether it be money, clothes, or the simplicity of having a place to stay, you will receive instantly. My servants will come to your every command, and you will be protected from Hell's greedy hands..."
Your eyes widen. Such an offer like this could not be without any strings or motives attached. "Wh-what's the catch?" you whisper softly.
Alastor smirks. How eager you seem...he likes it.
He leans closer to you. "I will give you all you ever want...in return that you, my darling dancer, fulfill my desires. That you, continue to dance for me and me alone. That you...become mine, and mine alone."
Your breath hitches. "A-are you...interested in me?" you ask. That question again...Alastor can't help but sigh on the inside.
"Maybe," he answers, "but tell me, do we have a deal?"
Do we have a deal? the words repeat themselves in your mind. You can have anything and everything in the world...if you only continue to dance for him. To amuse him whenever he pleases....is it worth taking?
You look up into his eyes. Truly, you cannot deny that he is slowly growing on you. That you find his presence risky yet...comforting at the same time. He isn't like any demon you've ever met either...he holds more of a high respect for himself unlike the rest of these drug addicted, lust driven demons down in Hell.
Being with someone like the Radio Demon...could work out for you. It could have both its advantages and disadvantages...but you're willing to see it.
You nod, slowly.
Alastor smirks. You finally succumed to him. Now...it's time to do what he's wanted to since the first moment he saw your beautiful body dance.
He leans closer to you, so close that you feel his breath caress your lips, sending a wave of heat pulse through your veins.
The distance between you grows small, until you feel his lips press against yours. An inviting kiss, gentle at first, before Alastor becomes impatient, and grows hungry. He leans further into you, kissing you deeper, harder, opening your mouth with his to let his tongue dance within your mouth.
He purposely didn't drink that bottle of wine almost half an hour ago during dinner...he wanted to taste the wine for the first time by tasting your mouth.
Quite delicious, he thinks to himself. Regarding the wine, of course.
He kisses you a little more, gripping his hands behind your back to pull you closer to him. Alastor...was a hungry kisser. Devouring...it left you breathless. Yet with each touch, each wave of heat that washed over you...you loved it. And you...craved for more.
You wanted to feel his touch on your body, and to taste his lips against yours, for hours. You never wanted to leave this...breathless, desireable sensation he gave you.
Alastor pulls away, his eyes falling on your red lips, the desire to lean back down and continue kissing growing stronger in him by the minute.
His arm wraps around you, pulling you until your body touches his, as he whispers against your lips.
"Give yourself to me, darling..."
You allow your eyes to roll in the back of your head as Alastor presses his lips hungerly against yours. By now, you have fully succumbed to him...and by now...he could anything he wanted to do, without your hesitation.
Soon, you would be a sweaty, hot mess. Shuddering under his burning fingertips on your skin, feeling your insides twist as he would perform his magical touches on you, surrendering yourself to him and his desires entirely...until Alastor, and you, had reached your limits, and could not continue this dance any longer...
THE END...