Armin Snk - Blog Posts

The Demon

(Armin x Reader) - Word Count: 3.7k

Creature: an evil spirit or devil, especially one thought to possess a person or act as a tormentor in hell,,, who just so happens to be a prince of Hell in this au.

Warnings: Slight Powerplay, Mentions of Manipulation, Unprotected Sex, (Slight) Breeding Kink

Quick Summary: after following instructions from an old leather book, you are suddenly visited by a supernatural being.

Extra Notes: 2 more days until Halloween!

You wiped the sweat collecting on your forehead with the back of your hand. You leaned back from exhaustion and took in the sight of your masterpiece in front of you. Decorated with pieces of you; locks of your hair, your blood steadily drying on the hardwood floor underneath you, and the book you had borrowed under your own name, you were connected indefinitely to the beautiful piece in front of you.

You sighed and grabbed the book you had borrowed from the college library. You read each step of the ritual intently, making sure not to miss a thing. First, form a pentagram with your blood - done. Second, place the lock of your hair at one of the star’s points - done. Third, write your intentions on a piece of paper and place it at the opposite point of your hair - done. Fourth, place the Prince of Hell, Belial’s, statuette at the top of the star - not done.

You reached behind you and grabbed the wooden statuette. It was a bitch to get your hands on this thing, which was surprising considering the shape of the wooden figure. It was originally structured in the 17th century, you assumed during the Salem Witch Trials or something cliché like that. And, the years of existence had definitely had an impact on the small figure.

Originally depicted as a demon with large wooden wings and an unforgettably attractive face that could bring any innocent young maiden onto their knees, whether to pray or to do something different. But now, the wooden statuette had eroded the demon’s face to an unrecognizable blur and only one of his wings was still attached to the figure, the other somewhere out in the world. But, you had the majority of the original figure and that’s all you needed, which was precisely what you explained to the pawn shop owner when you found this statuette on one of his shelves.

You placed the wooden statuette at the top point of the star. You could finally cross off the fourth part of the ritual, now onto the final step. You looked into the book, taking a deep breath before repeating the Latin words written on the fragile pages.

You weren’t sure you were even saying the words correctly, and you hoped you’d be graded on participation rather than correctness. You honestly doubted the demon Prince Belial would complain about being summoned because the Latin wasn’t said correctly. If you were bringing him back to the mortal world to wreak havoc, would he honestly care as long as you tried your best to say each word? He just shouldn’t expect so much from a college student who still cheats off of her roommates in class.

Each Latin word came roughly out of your mouth. You stumbled over every other syllable, furrowing your eyebrows and shaking your head with every breath of speaking. And after a few painful minutes, you finally reached the end of the words with a dramatic shout of the last three words. You threw your arms outwards, hoping the room would fill with smoke and within the midst of it would stand Prince Belial in front of you.

But, nothing. You were met with absolutely nothing.

You tilted your head to the side and reread over the parts of the ritual once, twice, three times. But, nope, you didn’t miss a step. The book, the blood, the hair, the intentions, the statuette - everything was as it should be. The only thing that was missing was Prince Belial, risen again.

You sighed and rolled your eyes, shutting the book with an impatient slam. You set the book down on the floor and rose from where you were sitting. You were heading off to the kitchen to chug a fifth of vodka out of exhaustion when it happened.

You felt your heart drop into your stomach as you stood in the doorway of the attic. Adrenaline was coursing quickly through your veins when you felt the shift of the air in the small room. He was here, you were sure of it - and you suddenly no longer needed to get drunk to forget the entire experience.

You gulped and, without turning around, spoke out loud, “Belial?”

You heard a light chuckle behind you, “Are we acquainted enough to be on a first name basis - if so, excuse me for not remembering you, dear.”

“No.” You turned around with wide eyes and a pounding heart. “We aren’t, but-”

“Then,” Prince Belial said sharply, “It’s Belial, Crown Prince of Hell to you.” With one flick of his finger from your chest to the floor, you were back on your knees with a yelp. “Understood?”

You nodded quickly, “I’m sorry, My Lord.”

“My Lord?” Belial smiled crookedly at you. “I like that too, you may call me My Lord, if that’s easiest for you to remember.”

You nodded slowly, “Okay, My Lord.”

“Mortals,” Prince Belial scoffed at you, “You’re all so easily bewildered by anything you don’t understand.”

He could see the way your gaze danced across his body, he watched every second you looked up and down. He was used to this reaction from mortals like you, the ones who aren’t afraid of him and are instead excited to be in his presence. The mortals who are stupid enough to go out of their ways to summon him, hoping for him to work miracles for them. But, he isn’t a god, he didn’t owe mortals a thing - and he doesn’t care about mortals the way angels do.

He wondered what mortals saw when they looked at him. He knew they couldn’t take in his true form, his pointed wings and leathery skin was invisible to a human’s naked eye. What they could see instead was his Earth form; his blonde hair, blue eyes, pale skin, light freckles across his nose and cheeks. The only indication of him being a Prince of Hell in this Earth form were his black trousers and inhumanly toned body that he had worked on for centuries in the backrooms of Hell. So, maybe he did look beautiful to mortals in this form though he never really saw the appeal.

“What do you see?” Prince Belial raised his eyebrows at you. “And, do you like what you see?”

“You kind of-” You smiled weakly to yourself before continuing- “You kind of look like this boy I used to know.”

Belial perked a single eyebrow, “Oh?”

“Yeah, but,” You said as you shook your head quickly, “I haven’t seen him since I was a kid, he was my next door neighbor, actually. And- and he was really nice, he was about the same age you’re pretending to be right now, actually. He was a lot older than me, probably-” You took a moment to think- “Well, he was probably about twelve years older than me, if I remember correctly.”

Your words came flooding out of you, confessing years of pent up unresolved feelings. Things you wouldn’t tell the Prince of Hell was just how much you liked the boy, despite the drastic age gap. The way that even at the age of eight, you felt a certain attraction towards the boy - just the way a child develops a silly crush on their favorite Disney Channel character, nothing world altering.

Though, you had to admit - even now - that you would drop anything to be with him, and you wished the age gap hadn’t been so drastic, then maybe you would have actually been with the boy. Or, at least known where he was right now in life.

“Huh,” Belial said, “What was this boy’s name?”

Belial recognized this human emotion immediately, he was much too familiar with it considering he couldn’t feel it. Maybe he recognized it from the loads of girls who all summoned him forward with their blood and hair and statuette. Maybe he recognized it so quickly because of how many desperate girls all sat on their knees in front of him and fell for him slowly with each second he stood in this world, just like you.

“Armin,” You said with the ghost of a grin, “His name was Armin, and he was very nice.”

“Well, I’m not nice.” Belial kneeled to meet your eye length. “But, you may call me that name if it’ll help this whole exchange go quicker. But, I’m still your Lord, aren’t I?”

A large smile took up most of your face, “Of course, of course, My Lord-” You took a moment before continuing- “Armin.”

Armin smiled, “Now, that’s what I like to hear.” Armin reached forward and placed a gentle hand on the side of your head, his fingers barely touching your hair. “Do you feel more comfortable now that I’m Armin?”

You nodded slowly, “Overwhelmingly comfortable, in fact.”

“Perfect.” Armin’s hand steadily moved down your hair, curling the strands around his fingers. “Now, why did you summon me here? What can I do for you?”

“Well,” You said as heat flushed your face, “It’s a bit embarrassing.”

To say he already knew what you summoned him for was an understatement. He knew what girls who go looking for his ritual and his statuette always have in mind for him to do for them. He recognized the same signs in them that he saw with you; your fidgety hands, your desperate glances, your light smiles, and wide eyes. Oh, he knew exactly what you wanted from him. It was what every pretty, innocent girl wanted from him.

“That’s okay.” Armin took his hand back, taking a deep breath. “Take your time telling me, darling. I’ll be here until you can finally say it, partially because I can’t physically leave until you're satisfied and because I want to.”

You furrowed your eyebrows at Armin, “You can’t leave until I’m satisfied? Are you being serious right now?”

“Yes,” Armin said with a light shrug, “That’s part of the contract, it was written in the ritual words - you know, the Latin you butchered?”

You laughed and pushed Armin’s shoulder playfully, “Shut up!” Your smile quickly faded away as your mistake of what you’ve just done became apparent in your mind. You just pushed a Prince of Hell and told him to shut up, what is wrong with you? Are you stupid or the bravest person in this universe? “I’m so sorry, Armin, I didn’t mean to-”

“It’s fine.” Armin smiled at you as his eyes glanced over your lips. “I enjoy being perceived as another human to you, it’s refreshing.”

It was a blatant lie, but you didn’t need to know that. The last thing he wanted was to destroy the progress he had made with you by getting angry over something so stupid. He had done so much to make you feel comfortable; showing up in his Earth form, letting you call him by some random boy’s name, and touching you gently as you struggled to think of the intentions you wrote down on the paper folded closed at the end of the star’s point. The last thing Armin needed was you to freak out and trap him on Earth because he scared you away before you could be satisfied.

You took a deep breath, “I’m still sorry, My Lord. And, the reason I brought you here is because- well, because I need you to- I need you to do something for me.”

“Well.” Armin failed to hide the annoyance in his voice. “That’s already apparent, but what is this thing you need for me to do?”

You really don’t need to be shy, he was used to this. You could be as clear to him as possible, make it known what you need from him. It didn’t matter what way you decided to say it, he knew exactly what you needed. You needed him to fuck you, there was no reason to be ashamed of that - mortals just couldn’t fuck the way demons could, especially Princes of Hell.

You took a deep breath, “I don’t know how to say it.”

“Just say it.” Armin smiled cockily as he placed his hand gently on your cheek. “I can read your mind, you know?”

“No!” Your eyes widened to the size of a deer’s eyes as they stare into a car’s headlights. It seemed your life was flashing before your eyes as you realized just how many times you had thought about losing yourself in his body ever since he had gotten here. “You’re lying, right?”

Armin couldn’t hide his smile, “Yes, I am lying - but, I can read body language. So, if you find the courage to say what I’m reading, then I can do it for you.” Armin moved his hand past your ear, and to the back of your neck as he leaned in closer to you. “Because I already know what you want from me.”

You nodded slowly, “I want you- I just want you.”

“Alright,” Armin said with a grin, “That’s good enough for me.”

You didn’t take a greater demon, like one of the Princes of Hell himself, to even take the time to romance you beforehand, but maybe this was just the demon kicking into his new Armin persona. First, he grazed his soft lips against your own, lightly and passionately kissing you. It was like a younger version of yourself was finally being awakened as you realized how many times you had imagined this exact moment with Armin - the real and human Armin, but this still counted you were sure of it.

And secondly, Armin had lifted his hand from your neck up to the back of your head, trying to give himself more leeway inside of your mouth. Now that his tongue had successfully entered past your lips, he now used it to lick the roof of your mouth. He let the tip of his tongue flick against the back of your front teeth, feeling the way you melted from the small touch.

Your body shuttered from just the small flick of his tongue and you felt yourself melting into him. You wanted more of him, you wanted everything he could give you - either because you knew he could give you the world and then some, or maybe because he looked like the one boy you could, for whatever reason, never get over, no matter how much time went by.

“Armin,” The words fell lightly from your mouth before you could muster up enough composure to stop them, “Please, just touch me.”

You could feel Armin’s smile against your lips, “Touch you where exactly?” Armin’s fingertips still ran across your scalp, gently tangling your hair around his fingers. “I’m too stupid to know what you mean.”

“You know where I mean,” You said passive aggressively which caused Armin to become a bit rougher with his grip on your hair, “So, just touch me.”

“No.” Armin pulled his mouth away from your mouth, his eyes staring into your eyes with a great presence of anger behind their seemingly sweet blueness. “I don’t know where you mean. Where?”

You couldn’t hold back your anger as your eyebrows furrowed deeply at Armin, “Do you want me to spell it out for you or can you-”

Armin’s grip on your hair tightened, forcing you to stop talking mid sentence, “Don’t get moody with me, alright?” You nodded your head obediently despite the awkward angle he had your neck at you for you to peer up at him. “Now, answer the question, darling - where do you want me to touch you?”

Your face heated up from embarrassment as your eyes avoided his beautiful blue ones, “I- I want you to touch me, everywhere- touch me everywhere, please, Armin- My Lord.”

“Of course, darling,” Armin scoffed, “You mortals are so quick to obey with just a little bit of force.” Armin grinned at you as his free hand felt it’s way down the side of your body, towards your hip. “And, you all want the same thing.” His hand playfully danced on the waist of your jeans, towards the button and zipper. “Somebody who seems nice and gentle, but will really handle you like the piece of meat you are.”

Armin’s fingertips played with the button of your jeans before his finger dipped into the area behind it. His pointer finger scraped against your abdomen, pointing towards the area you wanted him most. Armin watched the way your body leaned towards him before he looked up at you with a grin, and a simple request of his lips.

“Lay down,” Armin said softly, “And, don’t make a scene - I don’t really feel like taming you all night long, I prefer people being sufficient with my demands, I admire obedience - understand?”

You gave Armin a curt nod, “Okay, My Lord.” You laid on your back, pressing your shoulder blades into the hardwood underneath you.

Armin pulled your jeans down your legs, tossing them to the side with one flick of his wrist. It seemed like this was the first time he ever really broke character. Armin no longer looked entirely like himself as he stared at you from above; his eyes were no longer a beautiful and comforting blue, but rather a deep, dark red that reminded you of the stories of Hell when you were younger. In his eyes were eons of torture and pain, and a slight hint of enjoyment from hearing the screams of terror and pain.

You were suddenly reminded just who you were giving your body to, this wasn’t the sweet boy next door, Armin. No, this was someone - or rather, something - much more wicked than that sweet boy Armin, no matter how uncanny the physical similarities seemed to be.

Armin situated himself in between your now bare legs, and pressed his hips against the crotch of your panties. The foreign touch was enough to make yourself jump back slightly, Armin took the new room as an invitation, so he settled himself further between your legs.

Armin leaned close to your face, ghosting his lips over your own, “You didn’t say anything about it being romantic, so I assume you’re not really into that whole thing?”

“I am,” You whispered breathlessly as he kissed down your neck, “But, not really right now - I just, I don’t really care right now. Take me however you want me.”

Armin looked up at you, “Hm, what beautiful words - alright, I accept.”

Armin wasn’t soft or comfortable or gentle, he was the complete opposite of how you imagined him all these years. Where his hands touched weren’t tender, but rather rough and needy - his hands moved around your body like he already knew it so well, like he had formed it himself. He knew every touch you liked, he even knew every place you wanted to be touched more than once. He’d give extra time to those specific places, touching you there twice, three times, four times, as many times as he had to touch you to get you calling out his name in a whiny and desperate tone.

His lips were rushed as they kissed against your neck and jaw. You felt yourself arching your back in a desperate attempt to get closer to him. His one hand moved from your side, down your body, and towards your panties. You thought for sure he was going to touch you - the anticipation even caused you to jolt into Armin’s body, but instead he grabbed at himself. His fingers expertly grabbed at his own crotch, loosening the waist of his trousers.

You couldn’t see anything, but rather felt it as he moved the crotch of your panties to the side and slid himself inside. The pleasure that came with his thrusts caused you to see stars as you threw your head back, your eyes nearly rolling into the back of your head.

“Look at me,” Armin grunted out as he continuously thrusted into you, “I want you to look at me.”

Immediately after your eyes took sight of the thing in front of you, you wanted to look away. Armin could see the fear in your face as you took in the sight of the real demon you had summoned. He had long, curling ebony horns coming from his temple, dark scarlet eyes that were fixated on you, but he still had Armin’s milky white skin and freckles across his button nose - it was as if the demon had been fighting between being himself and being who he truly was, as if he were fighting back the imagery of Armin himself.

Even as this distorted version of the boy you loved for all of these years, you still felt safe underneath him. You gently reached up to his cheek, fighting every fearful nerve in your body. You moved your fingers against his soft cheek, running your fingertips under his eyes and over his cheekbone.

Armin was smiling when he first saw your widened and scared eyes. He found enjoyment in the way you had squirmed underneath him, trying to run away from the monster you had mistakenly summoned into your own apartment. But, your gentle touch reminded the demon just how kind humanity could be when they weren’t being stupid.

Your eyes were no longer hard and full of worry, but rather loving and soft, and it reminded the demon that maybe humans weren’t little play things, maybe some humans were deserving of kindness. The thought itself sent him over the end, and with one final thrust into you, he let go of his side of the bargain, the side that these dumb little girls never realize is a mistake until it’s too late.

“Armin,” You breathlessly called out his name as your body released all over his cock.

“Sure, darling,” Armin whispered sarcastically into your ear, “Whatever helps you sleep better at night.”

Maybe some humans out there were deserving of kindness and peace, but he didn’t think you were one of them. You only cared for him because he looked enough like Armin to confuse your delusional mind into thinking he actually was the boy. It was cold hearted manipulation, and the demon had to applaud you for it, he would’ve done the same thing in your position. And, he even hoped that in nine months when your belly was fully formed and his offspring was desperately clawing its way into the world, that you’d keep that same delusion - it’s easier to believe the little blonde baby was the child of a human boy rather than a Prince of Hell you had summoned to come fuck you.

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