Capítulo 1: Day 1 - Power Play (Charlie/Alastor)
Day 1 - Power Play (Charlie/Alastor)
Charlie's breath came in short, ragged bursts, her hands gripping the sides of the ornate chair so tightly her knuckles had gone white. The weight of Alastor's presence bore down on her like a physical force, his shadow looming large, tendrils of crimson magic swirling in the air around them. She had agreed to this. She had agreed to this.
And now, there was no going back.
"Do you understand now, my dear?" Alastor's voice was a low purr, a lilting sing-song that danced through the room, curling around her like smoke. He circled her, his fingers trailing the edge of her cheek with an almost casual cruelty. "You signed the deal. You gave me control, and now…" He crouched beside her, his eyes gleaming with predatory amusement. "I intend to take what's mine."
Charlie tried to pull her gaze from his but found it impossible. Those glowing red eyes held her captive. She hated how weak she felt in his presence, how the mere sound of his voice made her body react in ways she didn't want to admit. Her kingdom had always been her responsibility—her father's kingdom—but this... this was something darker, something primal.
"You know you can't break the deal," Alastor continued, his voice like velvet, soft and deadly. "You belong to me now, princess."
His hand ghosted over her collarbone, and Charlie shivered despite herself, her breath hitching. The thin straps of her dress slipped slightly from her shoulders under his touch, baring more skin to the cool air of the room. It was deliberate, slow—like he wanted her to feel every second of her submission.
"I…" Charlie swallowed, her throat dry. She had thought she was prepared for this, but standing here, with Alastor's magic thrumming through the air like static, she realized how foolish that had been. "I didn't realize—"
"Ah, but now you do." Alastor's smile widened, showing too many teeth. "Isn't it more fun this way, my dear? The thrill of uncertainty, the knowledge that I can do anything I please with you?"
Charlie's heart pounded, and her thighs clenched together instinctively. The sheer power of Alastor's voice alone seemed to have a hold over her body, like an enchantment she couldn't break free from. His fingers pressed lightly against her jaw, tilting her head back so she had no choice but to meet his gaze once more.
"Tell me, princess," he murmured, leaning closer until his lips were mere inches from hers. "What does it feel like to be at my mercy?"
Her pulse raced, her mind clouded. She wanted to fight it, to push him away, to resist the suffocating control he held over her—but instead, her lips parted, a soft gasp escaping as his fingers trailed down her throat, tracing the curve of her collarbone.
"I—" She hesitated, her voice shaky. "It feels... wrong."
"Wrong?" Alastor laughed, the sound bright and sharp, like a knife slicing through the tension between them. "No, my dear. This isn't wrong. This is exactly what you wanted. You asked for this, Charlie. You sought me out. You signed the deal with full knowledge of what it entailed."
His hand slid lower, fingers brushing the curve of her waist, and Charlie's breath hitched again. Her mind swirled with confusion and desire, both struggling for dominance within her.
"I didn't—" She tried again, but Alastor silenced her with a sharp tug on the straps of her dress, letting them fall completely off her shoulders, baring her to him.
"You didn't what?" His voice turned cold, commanding. "You didn't think I would follow through on my end? You didn't think I'd want to collect what I'm owed?"
Her skin prickled under his gaze, goosebumps rising as the air chilled. She could feel his magic in the room—dark and consuming—wrapping around her wrists, invisible chains holding her in place. There was no escape. Not now. Not ever.
"I thought…" Charlie's voice broke, softer now, more vulnerable. "I thought I could control it."
"Oh, darling." Alastor's grin widened impossibly. "I'm the one who controls you."
With a flick of his fingers, Charlie felt the surge of magic rip through her, a pulse that left her weak in the knees, making her head spin. She slumped back into the chair, gasping as her body betrayed her, responding to his touch, his command. Alastor chuckled, dark and indulgent, his hand now tracing her thigh, teasing the hem of her dress.
"This is what you wanted all along, wasn't it?" Alastor continued, his voice a soft hum of satisfaction. "To give up control, to let someone else make the choices for you."
Charlie's chest rose and fell rapidly, her breath quickening as Alastor's hand crept higher, the fabric of her dress sliding up her legs, exposing her to him. She closed her eyes, trying to block out the overwhelming sensation of his presence, the way his touch set her body alight with need and fear.
"I—" She couldn't speak, couldn't think. The words caught in her throat, her mind clouded by the intoxicating mix of pleasure and dread. Every fiber of her being screamed for her to stop this, to end it, to pull away—but she couldn't. She couldn't.
Alastor leaned in close, his breath warm against her ear, his voice dripping with amusement. "What's the matter, princess? Feeling a little... overwhelmed?"
Charlie whimpered softly, her body trembling beneath his touch. The heat in the room was unbearable now, a suffocating weight pressing down on her chest. She hated how her body responded to him, how every touch sent a jolt of desire through her that she couldn't control.
"Yes," she whispered finally, her voice barely audible. "I am."
Alastor's grin widened further, if that was even possible. "Good."
In a single, smooth motion, he pulled her dress the rest of the way up, exposing her fully to him. The cool air hit her bare skin, and Charlie shivered, her breath catching in her throat. Alastor's eyes roved over her, taking in every inch of her vulnerable, exposed body with a gleam of satisfaction.
His hand brushed down her side, trailing over her hip as he circled around her once more, eyes never leaving her form. "So beautiful," he mused, his voice velvet-smooth yet carrying an edge of something darker. "And all mine."
Before she could react, his hands were on her again, lifting her up from the chair and flipping her over in one fluid movement. Charlie let out a gasp as her chest pressed against the cool surface of the chair, her body bending forward as Alastor positioned himself behind her. His hands gripped her waist firmly, keeping her in place as he leaned down, his breath warm against the back of her neck.
"You belong to me, Charlie," he whispered, his voice low and dangerous. "Every inch of you."
His fingers slid down her back, tracing the curve of her spine before they reached his target. Charlie tensed, her breath hitching as she felt him pull at the fabric of his trousers, just enough to free himself. The sound of his zipper sent a shiver down her spine, and she closed her eyes, anticipation and fear mingling in her chest.
Alastor wasted no time. With a sharp tug, he positioned himself at her entrance, the tip of him pressing against her slick heat. A low, satisfied hum escaped his lips as he began to push inside, filling her inch by inch. Charlie bit down on her lip, trying to stifle the moan that threatened to escape. Her body clenched around him involuntarily, the sensation overwhelming as he stretched her.
"Good girl," Alastor purred, his hands tightening on her hips as he began to move, thrusting into her with slow, deliberate strokes. "You feel that? You were made for this, made to be mine."
Charlie couldn't respond, her mind a blur of sensations. His grip on her was unyielding, his thrusts deep and controlled. Each movement sent a shockwave through her body, her hands gripping the chair for support as he took her with a possessive intensity that left her breathless.
Just as she felt herself begin to surrender to the feeling, to the rhythm of his movements, Alastor suddenly pulled out, leaving her gasping at the abrupt loss.
She barely had a second to process before he spun her around, his hands never leaving her body as he lifted her effortlessly off the ground. Charlie's legs wrapped around his waist instinctively, her arms reaching out to cling to his shoulders for balance. Alastor's smirk widened, his eyes gleaming with a dark satisfaction as he held her suspended in the air.
"Look at me," he commanded, his voice low and commanding. His fingers gripped her chin, forcing her gaze to meet his. "I want to see those pretty eyes when I take you."
Charlie's breath came in short, ragged gasps as she locked eyes with him. The intensity of his stare was overwhelming, his red eyes glowing with a sinister light as he positioned himself at her entrance once again. Without breaking eye contact, Alastor thrust into her with one sharp movement, burying himself deep inside her.
Charlie cried out, her body arching as the sensation hit her all at once. Her legs tightened around his waist, her nails digging into his shoulders as he began to move again, faster this time, his hips snapping against hers with a rhythm that left her reeling. Every thrust sent a jolt of pleasure through her body, her breath coming in desperate, uneven gasps as she struggled to keep her gaze locked on his.
"That's it," Alastor growled, his voice rougher now, his grip on her hips tightening as he pounded into her relentlessly. "You're mine, Charlie. Don't forget it."
Charlie whimpered, her body trembling as the pleasure built inside her, pushing her closer to the edge with every thrust. Her mind was a haze of sensation, her thoughts consumed by the feeling of Alastor inside her, filling her, controlling her. The way he moved her, the way he commanded her—it was all too much.
"Say it," Alastor demanded, his voice sharp as he increased his pace. "Say you belong to me."
Charlie's breath hitched, her heart racing as she clung to him, her body shaking with the force of his thrusts. "I—I belong to you," she gasped, her voice barely a whisper.
"Louder," he growled, his grip on her tightening as he thrust into her even harder, his body pressing against hers, holding her up in the air with an almost inhuman strength.
"I belong to you!" she cried out, her voice breaking as the pleasure overwhelmed her, her body trembling uncontrollably.
Alastor's grin widened, his eyes gleaming with triumph as he continued to take her, his pace relentless, his control absolute. "Good girl."
Charlie's world shattered, her body convulsing as she finally reached her peak, her vision going white as the pleasure consumed her. Her legs tightened around him, her nails digging into his skin as she clung to him, her mind lost in the overwhelming sensation. Each wave of pleasure felt like it would never end, and her body continued to tremble uncontrollably in his arms.
Alastor's grip tightened on her hips, his thrusts becoming slower but more deliberate, more calculated. He groaned, his breath hitching, and with one final, powerful movement, he buried himself deep inside her. The sensation of him filling her completely sent a final shudder through her already oversensitive body.
Charlie barely registered the warmth spreading through her as Alastor came, his grip unyielding as he held her close. His breath was hot against her neck, and she could feel the tremor of satisfaction that coursed through him, his dark energy vibrating against her skin.
For a brief moment, everything was still. Charlie's mind swirled, dazed, still trying to recover from the intensity of what had just happened. Her breath came in shallow gasps as she slowly began to come down from the high, her head resting against his shoulder.
But then, Alastor's voice cut through the haze, smooth and deliberate.
"Good," he purred, his lips brushing against her ear. "Everything will go according to plan."
Charlie blinked, her breath catching in her throat. Plan? Her hazy mind tried to grasp the meaning of his words, but before she could even begin to piece it together, Alastor continued, his voice taking on an almost amused tone.
"I wonder," he mused softly, his hand sliding up her back, "what our child will look like."
Charlie's entire body stiffened. The words crashed through her, shattering whatever sense of post-pleasure bliss had been left in her mind. Her eyes shot open, widening in horror as her brain finally caught up to the meaning of his words.
Child?
Her heart pounded in her chest, a cold wave of realization washing over her. She pulled back just enough to look at him, her eyes wide, her mouth opening to speak, but no words came. Alastor's smirk was still firmly in place, his red eyes gleaming with dark amusement as he watched her reaction unfold.
"No..." she whispered, her voice trembling. Her mind raced, the implications of what he was saying finally sinking in. "No, no, no, that's not possible…"
Alastor tilted his head, his expression almost playful. "Oh, but it is, my dear," he said, his voice dripping with satisfaction. "You didn't think I would make a deal with you without ensuring every part of it was… advantageous to me, did you?"
Charlie's blood ran cold. She felt sick, her stomach twisting in knots as panic gripped her chest. This wasn't supposed to happen. This couldn't happen.
Her breathing quickened, her hands trembling as she pushed against his chest, trying to pull away from him, but Alastor's grip remained firm. He held her in place, his eyes never leaving hers, watching every flicker of horror and disbelief that crossed her face.
"I-I didn't agree to this!" Charlie stammered, her voice rising in panic. Her mind was spinning, desperately trying to find a way to undo what had just been done. "I didn't know!"
Alastor's grin widened, his eyes flashing with a sinister light. "You didn't ask," he corrected, his tone condescending. "And now it's too late."
Charlie shook her head, her heart hammering in her chest. She couldn't believe this was happening. This wasn't supposed to be part of the deal. She had thought she was making a bargain for control over the hotel, for a chance to restore peace to Hell. But now, standing here with Alastor's seed inside her, the weight of her naivety pressed down on her like a vice.
"You…" She swallowed hard, tears stinging at the corners of her eyes. "You tricked me."
Alastor chuckled softly, his thumb brushing over her cheek, wiping away the tear that had begun to fall. "Not a trick, my dear," he said smoothly. "Simply... foresight. After all, what's the point of power if it doesn't secure the future?"
Charlie's body shook with panic, her mind screaming in protest. She wanted to fight back, to scream, to break free from the hold he had over her, but she felt paralyzed, trapped in a web of her own making.
"And now," Alastor continued, his voice softer but no less dangerous, "our future is assured."
Charlie's breath caught in her throat as the reality of his words sank in. The future. Their child. The weight of it all was unbearable, crushing her under its dark implications.
"I wonder," Alastor mused again, his voice carrying a sickening sweetness, "will they inherit my powers… or yours?"
Charlie couldn't take it anymore. With a sudden surge of panic-fueled strength, she pushed away from him, breaking free from his grip. She stumbled backward, her hands instinctively wrapping around her stomach as if she could somehow protect herself—protect what was already inside her—from him.
Alastor watched her with that same, infuriating smile, as though he were simply amused by her futile attempts at resistance. "Don't worry, my dear," he said, his tone almost mocking in its tenderness. "I'll take very good care of you. Of both of you."
Charlie's breath came in short, ragged gasps, her heart pounding painfully in her chest. She could feel the walls closing in, the weight of her mistake suffocating her. How could she have been so foolish? How could she not have seen this coming?
Tears streamed down her cheeks as she stared at Alastor, her mind a whirlwind of fear and regret. She had made a deal with the devil—and now, she was paying the ultimate price.
Alastor stepped forward, closing the distance between them once more, his fingers gently brushing her cheek in a mockery of comfort. "Shh," he whispered, his voice soft but chilling. "This is what you wanted, isn't it? To rebuild Hell, to create something new… and now we will."
Charlie's heart ached with a deep, terrible realization: There was no escaping this. No escaping him. She was bound to him in ways she had never anticipated, and now, the future was no longer hers to control.
Alastor's hand slid down to rest on her stomach, his touch possessive, and Charlie flinched, her body recoiling instinctively. His smile only widened, and in that moment, she knew—there was no turning back.
"Don't worry, Charlie," Alastor whispered, his voice filled with dark promise. "Everything will go exactly as planned."
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