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CabinCaptive - Chapter Two - Stalk-Home Syndrome

Originally posted on AO3

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Original Notes:

The first few chapters of a story is where you get to explore your characters and find your footing. Original plans change, new ideas come. I don't think it's ever changed as much as THIS though... id thought I'd be writing yandere femdom Wendy x subby soft Alastor... but now... man idek. Alastor feels so ooc here. At one point in the draft, Wendy felt ooc too. But I'm having fun with what I'm writing!! chapter warnings: guilty masturbation, anime-style fan service, tradfem values/kink, light religious psychosis, graphic injury/pain scene, Alastor has a breeding kink?!?

Alastor was used to wearing a mask all day. To pretending. He was good at pretending. But not today.

The life of Wendy Hanes weighed on him like a rockfall of boulders. He had just barely managed to scrape through the day with nothing but a smile.

Spaced out, fidgeting, no appetite. Every moment he had with her in those few hours replayed like a scratchy record. Her long black hair, soft trembling lips, the tears trailing down her cheeks when he found her. The fear in her eyes afterwards, her meek little voice, and her unfinished sentence. He had lost something after that night. Something he couldn't name. Maybe even something he never knew he had.

The recording booth felt more lonely than ever. The microphone that had brought him so much joy before just felt like a judge waiting for a confession. Waiting to share the words “I left an innocent woman to die."

I left my greatest admirer to die.

Wendy had been bringing him flowers for months. Letters and tea and handmade cologne. Alastor spent his little breaks shuffling through his office to dig it all back up. Her adoration and attention to detail showed in every gift.

He remembered speaking of a lake he used to visit with his mother one day. Calm water with a little island in the middle- where there'd always be ducks preening and soaking in the sun. His producers didn't like it. Scolded him for "wasting airtime” with “boring tangents”. But in the fresh bouquet that was left for him every week, there was a little painting the size of a postcard slipped between the lilies. She always included lilies. It didn't look much like the lake he remembered- but the art was beautiful. She did well with what she had. That was admirable.

Wendy had been listening since he started. And on top of never listening back, he had let her life slip away so he could have the soundness of her silence.

Why had he never listened back? Why had he never sought her out? Gave a proper thank you? Let her know what her support meant?

That's what tortured him most today. Knowing such a sweet girl could have been close to his heart had he given her a second glance.

Somewhere along the way, he found himself fantasizing about such a bond. Very unlike him- this was all very unlike him- but something about it….brought comfort. A different world where he could give her all she desired….instead of a knife to the throat.

Dreaming about a dead woman….how pathetic.

After he had finished his segment, Alastor immediately decided to recuperate at the cabin. He needed to. He needed a drink- and not the kind that comes with company.

The drive there passed by in a blur like everything else, but something about the forest itself felt ….disturbed. A bloody scent wafted around the bayou like a low fog. But unlike fog- which hid and covered the loam-, the smell felt like a vapor of sins. Hot. Suffocating.

His sanctuary was simply a graveyard today.

Maybe a nice glass of whiskey would fix that.

So he shrugged it off and moved. The cabin door creaked as he shoved it open and whipped off his tie. Shoved it open… No, it should be locked….

I must be going crazy….

But just in case he wasn't, after he undid the buttons of his shirt, his fingers viced the knife he always held in his pocket.

Alastor's eyes narrowed at a trail of mud and crimson. The residue smeared from the entrance, down the living room, into the bathroom….that had the door slightly ajar. He took his knife out fully now, pushing the door open and…

“Eek!" A gentle voice shrieked.

His brown eyes widened bigger than the moon as he looked down at the source of the sound.

Her.

It was….the woman that had been haunting him all day. Wendy. On his bathroom floor, in front of the tub, covered in muck and grime with her ruined dress slipping off her scratched-up shoulders.

The knife clattered to the floor. Alastor blinked once. Twice. Rubbed his eyes and blinked again.

She only blinked twice, heaving her dress back up over one shoulder and tilting her chin down.

“You….” He paused, adjusting his glasses. "You're alive…."

Wendy nodded like it was a simple question.

His chest felt light at the revelation. All the gloom he carried disappeared at once. Why, he felt so elated he could lift her up and kiss her!

But he didn't. Just a bright smile showed his relief.

She was alive….though she looked like she had just crawled out of Hell. Or more likely, a muddy swamp.

Her hair was tangled and littered with sticks, skin tattered with little cuts. Her knees and palms were scraped and bloody like she had fallen down a million times. And her ankle…..her ankle was just a swollen red and brown mess- slick with mud that was just begging to give her an infection.

Like before, he moved without thinking. Down on his knees and at her side as he examined Wendy and wiped her face with nothing but spit and his thumb.

"A-Ah- um-” She stuttered at his sudden and intensive care. Though she supposed care was better than a knife to the ribs for the intrusion….

"How did you even- how are you- Oh goodness that's a nasty gash- Are you in any pain?! -What a ridiculous question- of course you are- I'm so sorry, dear I- I couldn't bring myself to- I-….”

He finally leaned back, retrieving his hands.

“I had assumed I was leaving a body to a peaceful rest….I had planned to leave a body….but I…” Alastor sighed, running a hand through his curly hair. “Seeing you here in front of me again, living ….is miraculous."

Wendy swallowed before she found her voice.

“I'm sorry for tresspassin’....I- I'll be outta your hair after I get cleaned up, I promise…”

"No- nonono.” He stood back up. "You're gravely injured- I can't just let you- you- I need you…to stay.”

A pause. Then,

“You….don't want me to go?” She just hardly whispered.

“Yes. Stay." He said firmly before softening once more. “Please. I fear for what I'll have to do if you refuse…’’ Alastor murmured. His eyes briefly flicked to the discarded knife.

That made her swallow again. So he offered a smile. Pure and sincere.

“But you'll be safe here, sweetheart- I promise. I will not hurt you.” Alastor held out a hand for her. "I will make sure nothing ever hurts you again.”

“N…nothing? You'll…take care of me?”

He nodded.

Wendy stood slowly, hand on the wall steading herself as she limped forward like a zombie. She winced with every hint of pressure on her broken ankle.

She was absolutely ruined. Dress torn and ripped and covered in grime. Covered in filth and cuts and blood. And this was his fault. He kept telling himself this was all his fault.

But her jade eyes looked up at him like none of that mattered. Not even the blood he spilled mattered. She stared into his eyes and smiled. Swooned.

He’s so handsome….

Tall with the kindest brown eyes she had ever seen. Beautiful dark brown curls and tawny skin, darkened eyelids and the faintest hit of eye bags, standing in front of her…. partially undressed… Her gaze couldn't help but flick to what was exposed of his chest. Toned muscles and old scars….the sight gave her an unfamiliar flutter in her lower abdomen.

She had been in love since the moment she first heard his voice on that shoddy little radio.

So charismatic, so intelligent, so humorous, so beguiling and thoughtful and ambitious….

And this gorgeous man is here trembling in front of her like she was a long lost lover. Like he needed her.

And I need him.

The thought came like a message straight from God. Yes- God…. God is guiding her. God has sent this perfect man to be her salvation. God has told her just what she needs to do. Be his wife. Be a good wife. Serve him and love him and he will give you the same.

"I'll stay then." Wendy said easily, taking his hand. “I-if that's what you want….I'll stay and try and make myself useful.”

“Useful? No- No, darling, you don't need to-”

"-Well I outta pay you back, don't I?" She laughed. “You saved me….and just kept on savin' me."

Alastor's brow furrowed. He squeezed her hand gently.

“I fear if anyone owes a debt, my dear, it's me. I left you for dead.”

"Nah….I don't think you did." Wendy smirked like it was something to be disagreed with. “You saved me." She insisted.

And since she insisted, he wouldn't argue.

“Very well then.” He sighed. "Now please, let me help you clean up. I can't help but feel responsible for…." He gestured vaguely to her person. “This…”

“Oh um….Do you mean…." Her chin tilted down. ”…should I…undress?”

Alastor coughed as blush lit his face.

“N-No- I- I mean something more along the lines of…helping wash all the grime from your hair! Such a shame to see such abundant locks in a frizzled mess.”

Wendy smirked, blushing in turn as she combed her fingers through her tangles.

“You really are kind, Mr. Hartfelt …but helpin' a lady bathe before you even know her name….." Her hips swayed in a shy wiggle.

“T-that was not my intention and- and I do know your name, Wendy, but-"

“-You know my name!?" She gasped.

“I- Yes, I suppose I do, even if we've never been properly introduced….I see you often at the radio station." A fond smile lit his face. ”After all the bouquets you've gifted me, I feel remembering your name is the least I can do.”

Even though he hadn't even recognized her until she was unconscious and half-dead….

But still, she smiled back, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

"I can get cleaned up on my own just fine, Mr. Hartfelt. You've already done enough for me. And…you look like you've had a busy day.” She briefly looked him up and down, admiring his exposed skin again. "Though…do ya got anythin’ for a lady to change into?"

He thought for a moment, retrieving his knife and slipping it back into the leather sheath.

“I do not have anything suited for a lady, no, but…I do have some spare men's clothes, if that will do."

“It'll do just fine, Mr. Hartfelt. Thank you kindly.”

Alastor flinched just a little every time she called him that. He never liked the name- especially not when used by someone outside of business. Such a distancing way of addressing someone…

“Please, just Alastor will do." He smiled.

Wendy nodded and blushed.

“Alright… W-well if you don't mind, Alastor, I'd like the privacy to change….”

"Oh! Yes- Of course - my apologies - just a moment, dear.” He fumbled to adjust his glasses before pacing to the bedroom with long strides.

Alastor spent a lick of time looking around for any gowns in his cabin's wardrobe- just in case- but as expected, only old men's clothes. He took a dress shirt and a pair of shorts, returning to the bathroom and knocking on the door before opening.

“Wendy, my dear? I've brought you-”

The words died in his throat as he saw her dress dropping to the floor, revealing…. everything.

"Eek!” She squeaked, moving to cover herself, only to lose balance on her wrecked ankle and stumble.

And once again, Alastor shot to her side without thinking, scooping her up and stopping her from hitting her head a second time. He held her in a dip of sorts, one hand on the small of her back while the other held her nape.

"A….ahh…Alastor….” She whined, limp in his arms, too struck to even try to shield her bare body.

He swallowed hard at his name on her lips. At this predicament. At the bashful batting of her eyelashes. At her soft skin- squeezed beneath his terrified grip. His stomach- no, something lower- fluttered and felt tight. Warm. Needful, as it began to throb in his pants. He could hear his heartbeat in his head as it tried to drown out his control. His supportive clutch on her back tightened just a fraction.

But a poke from his conscience had him deftly setting her into the tub and darting back out like nothing ever happened.

Wendy sank into the water, blinking and blushing as she rubbed the back of her neck. The water was lukewarm but her body was burning…and that low flutter was in her belly again….

Alastor's hand clasped over his mouth as he slumped against the door. She was…he saw…….it- it was just for a moment, just out of his peripheral, but….

His mind fished for the image again. The little teaser he got of her. Thick thighs, shapely hips, freckles dancing on her skin like stars, large breasts with perked puffy nipples in a pale brown hue. But the rest of the details didn't stick….

I need to see more.

To think of a woman he just met in such a way….it was more than vile. To have that lust he so despises in others….and for a vulnerable traumatized lady nearly sold into William Merrill's sex trafficking ring…

She deserved better to be thought of in such a way.

But this time, Alastor is not a better man.

His hands were already fumbling to discard his pants as he retreated to the bedroom. The door locked with a click, yet he still collapsed to the floor and pressed his weight against it.

Alastor swallowed hard, disappointed in himself as he began to pull his pants down to his ankles. He couldn't even bring himself to look at his own length as he choked it with a fist. His fingers trembled as he began to pump up and down slowly. But just one stroke and he was already arching his back and fapping wildly to the thought of her hand fervidly working instead of just his own.

“I'm sorry…imsorryimsorryimsorry…” He whined, body shaking with the force of his motions. “Wendy- Wendy, I'm so sorry….”

His free hand clapped over his mouth to muffle his guilty murmurs as lewd, slick clapping filled the room.

pap pap pap pap pap

Oh God it was so loud….but he was so close….so close as he imagined those beautiful jade eyes staring up at him, begging for his release to spray on her.

What a degenerate thought….but the image made his chest flutter. To cover her in such a mess…his mess…all for her….

pappappapappap

Close….so close….

“Alastor?" Wendy yelled for him from the other room. "Could you help me outta the tub? I'm afraid I'm gonna twist my ankle again…”

Her voice was the final push.

Alastor's hand pressed harder over his face as he whined her name pathetically. Thick white ropes spurted from his twitching cock and landed into his thighs in pulses. Wasted….it should have gone inside her…

“Ahh…..W….Wendy….”

Cumming to her felt so good….so good, but so wrong. So filthy. So disrespectful. Sick and bitter shame strangled him like a noose. Alastor never did this kind of thing, that's not who he was or who he wanted to be- he was doubtful he had even felt such a way towards someone else before - but seeing her so forgiving after frightening her half dead- LEAVING her half dead…

He just wanted to keep her here and never have her know pain again. To give her all the love she'd ever need and then some. And perhaps make her a very very happy mother too…..if not that, atleast a happy wife.

Alastor clutched his chest and tried to regain his breath. His composure.

“J-Just a moment, my dear!" He yelled back, wiping himself off with his discarded pants and quickly changing into his nightclothes.

He adjusted himself a few times before leaving the room, attempting to hide his still half-hard erection, but to no avail. He groaned and just held a spare towel over the groin.

"Are you decent this time, darling?” Alastor let out a little nervous laugh as he knocked on the door.

“I got a towel on!” She responded. "You left the spare clothes on the other side of the room….”

“Ah…I…I did, didn't I….”

Just a towel….

He shook his head, taking a deep breath and opening the door.

Wendy smiled as she saw him. Just that towel and her wavy black hair was preserving her modesty- whatever she had left after….that.

“I'm sorry you gotta help me out with somethin’ so…." She trailed off and held the towel tighter around herself. "It feels improper to ask such a thing…”

“Nonsense, dear, you're injured. You should be taking it easy." He smiled gently, extending a hand for her.

She nodded and took his hand, losing her footing again and stumbling into his chest. Wendy squeaked as she gripped his broad shoulders tight, breasts pressing against his chest.

His cock twitched in excitement like a traitor.

"A-Ah! I'm sorry!” She shrieked and fumbled to keep the towel up.

Alastor shut his eyes tight, took a deep breath, and turned away from her as he held out the spare clothes.

"Here you are, darling. I don't want you falling again, so I will stand here if you need me.” He squeezed his fist, every word policed with control.

“T-thank you… you're so kind… ” Her hand brushed his as she took the offering. “A real gentleman."

The towel dropped, then the shirt was pulled overhead with ease. It felt a little scratchy- but the texture was manageable. The length of the fabric fell longer than her hair, reaching her mid thigh. Wendy liked that.

“Oh! This is…kinda like a dress!”

She swayed her hips a little, testing the swish. Astoundingly disappointing. But it will do.

"Am I right to assume that makes you happy?” Alastor grinned.

"Mmhm!"

He peeked at her from over his shoulder. Just a little glance.

She looked cute…

But his gaze quickly flicked away once more as he realized it gravitating towards her thighs.

“Well, still, I will get you some proper garments tomorrow. You're too beautiful to be walking around in men's clothing."

Wendy squeaked like startled prey.

“Y-you think I'm beautiful?"

“I…it's simply a fact, is it not? Just those eyes alone make you akin to the Greek sea nymphs…"

His words had her cheeks painted a bright cherry red. She covered her face with her hands, peaking through the sleeves.

“Um… well…I..I'm all dressed now. You can turn back ‘round.”

And he did.

Wendy stood leaning against the sink, fingers fidgeting with each other irregularly as the shirt kept daring to slip off her shoulders. The shorts just barely held on to the flare of her hips and reached all the way to her calves.

“Oh dear…that's far too big on you!” He laughed, adjusting the neckline to fit on her properly. "I'm sorry this will have to suffice for the night."

"Don't be.” She smiled easily. “You're givin' me clothin’ and shelter. That's better than havin’ to sleep outside in the woods with a tattered dress and open wounds."

“You are quite optimistic, aren't you?" He chuckled, poking the tip of her aquiline nose.

“Mmh…I just like countin’ my blessin's!”

"That's precisely the definition of optimism, my dear. Now- let's tend to these open wounds, shall we?"

Alastor helped her down on the toilet seat before rummaging around the medicine cabinet for alcohol and bandages. He hummed a cheery jazzy tune as he wet a cotton round and began to clean her cuts.

“Oh my ..how did all these even happen?" He tutted, gently dabbing the cotton on her skin.

Wendy grimaced and hissed, fingers tightening on the porcelain, but she still mustered the strength to respond.

"The trees ain't good friends when you're fallin’. They'll catch ya, but leave some nasty scrapes as payment."

“And you made it all the way here from the river? You're quite resilient.” He began to wrap one leg in gauze. Tight and snug, but not painful.

"Not really…I'm just mighty scared of gators…. Saw one when I woke up and immediately made a run for the hills!”

“Oh? The alligators here are quite mellow as long as you don't step on any tails or get near any hatchlings." Alastor wrapped her other leg, eyes narrowing. “I've always found it's hunters who cause the most trouble out here."

Wendy tilted her head at that. Alastor cleared his throat and changed the subject.

“I….was looking through some of the gifts you've brought me in time's past today." He mused. “The lake portrait especially caught my eye. You're a very talented artist."

That made her blush.

“I- I ain't…not really…I can only draw flowers …”

"Oh but that wasn't a flower, was it?” He smirked.

She only blushed more, hiding her chin in tensed shoulders. Alastor took one of her arms and rolled up the sleeve. His eyes briefly caught the old scars on her hands…but he continued to clean and bandage her.

"Well I….really liked the story ‘bout the lake…and the ducks. Me and my Daddy used to feed the ducks together back when…..when….” She trailed off, chest deflating.

Alastor recognized the gesture. A lost parent. His brows furrowed upwards as he gave a soft smile.

"That sounds like a wonderful way to bond and enjoy nature."

She nodded, offering her other arm.

“It is! But you gotta make sure not to overfeed them or it'll mess up the…the econo- no, ecoSYStem. Read about it in a book." Her chest puffed with pride, full once more.

That made Alastor chuckle.

“Do you enjoy reading, dear?"

“I do! I love books! 'Specially anythin’ about history or nature!"

“Then I'll have to get you some on my outing tomorrow. The ones in here are old as sin!"

“I don't mind old books!"

“I don't doubt you, my dear, but you deserve something brand new and meant just for you."

He finished bandaging her limbs and moved on to her ankle. Twisted and gnarly and swollen to high hell. Alastor was no doctor, but he was certain the bone sticking out was not a good sign….

Still, he swallowed and tried his best to disinfect it without causing her too much pain.

"Proper clothes, books- what else do you want, darling?” He asked, soaking the ankle with a pour of isopropyl alcohol.

“A-Ah!"

It stung. She squirmed and whined, gripping his shoulder as tears welled in her eyes.

"Shh, You'll be okay … just bare with it a little longer." Alastor gave her hand a gentle squeeze and spilled more of the stinging liquid.

"A-Ahh! Ow! Ow!!”

"Tell me what I can get you to make this up to you." His thumb brushed hers. “Would you like cosmetics? Makeup? Or perhaps supplies to paint more beautiful art with?”

Wendy strangled a nod.

"Mmh- I- I'd- Ahh! Ahh….cig….ciggarettes….and…a-art…..supplies…p-please….”

“That's all you want, dear?" He cocked his head. The stinging stopped and his thumbs positioned themselves over the exposed bone.

“Mmhm….I feel like I've already- ah- already overstepped by a mile …I can't ask you for any more…"

“You can. I'll do anything to make your stay here better, Wendy.” He smiled sincerely. "Now take a deep breath for me, darling, this will hurt quite a bit."

She was just about to question him when Alastor pushed and snapped the bone back into place. Back into the skin. An agonizing scream escaped her lips. Wendy writhed and wailed like a banshee with her very soul being torn apart..

Alastor felt horrible….but he needed to do this if he ever wanted his future wife to walk again.

"It's over now, sweetheart, I promise ..” He stood and rubbed her calf in soothing circles. “I just need to bandage it up and tend to your head wound.”

She nodded, whining as she gripped him tight and buried her face in his chest. The smell of him beneath the sanitary sting of cleaning alcohol was comforting. Smelled like…cigarettes and ink…and that fragrance mist she had made for him months ago. Sandalwood and cypress.

Alastor smiled and stroked her hair, taking the moment to examine her head. Once again, Alastor was no doctor, but he knew cranial injuries were no laughing matter.

Up close, it didn't look so bad though. She was bleeding quite a bit last night, but now there was just a big scabbed bump beneath her dark hair. He pressed a damp cotton round to the mound. She winced, holding him tighter.

“You're alright, dear. It's all over.” He lulled, wrapping a few layers of bandages around the crown of her head. Alastor petted her head one last time before returning to her ankle.

“I-if it ain't too much, could you get me some strawberries?” Wendy asked with a small voice. "I …really like strawberries…"

Alastor paused, then laughed. He wrapped the last bandage around her ankle and scooped her back up into his arms. For just a moment, he felt he could get used to moving her in such a way…. maybe it wouldn't be too bad if her ankle didn't heal properly.

“Of course. And if you ever want more, all you need to do is ask.”

Wendy nodded and clinged onto his sleeve as he carried her up into the loft. The stairs creaked beneath the weight of them both. Not a scary creak- but a homey one.

“I think I'll keep you in here while I'm away….” He murmured, mostly to himself.

“You're….gonna leave me?"

“Not for long, dear, I promise." He set her down by the support beam and gave her a smile as he rummaged through a box. “After my segment, I will tend to the errands and be back to keep you company before you know it!"

She nodded, though she wasn't very on-board.

He hummed pensively. If she wasn't satisfied, he wasn't either.

“Mmh….perhaps I'll get you a radio too? So you can listen to me even when I'm gone."

Wendy breathed reverently. She liked that idea.

Alastor pulled various things from the various boxes in the loft. Moth-eaten blankets, deflated pillows, emergency rations, stained books, and even a little lantern. Just temporary arrangements- soon he'd get her luxuries truly worth her smile. Each item made Wendy feel more at ease...until the last.

Chain shackles.

She inched backwards.

“I don't want you moving about while I'm gone.” He said simply, clasping one cuff to her wrist." I need you to be careful with that ankle, darling. And this way, if someone else happens to find the cabin….they won't be able to steal you from me."

Alastor laughed in a way that would have made Wendy's heart drop….if the look on his face wasn't so comforting. He was just….trying to keep her safe, right?

The second cuff clicked as he wrapped the chain around the support beam, effectively tying her to the pole.

She was silent. Her eyes had that same scared look in them as when he first found her last night. Small, vulnerable, desperate, pleading.

It was annoyingly arousing.

“Oh, don't look at me like that, darling…” He cusped her cheek, rubbing it slowly.

"I don't wanna be tied up like this! " She whimpered. "How am I supposed to eat and-"

Alastor shushed her with a finger to her lips.

“Don't worry about that, dear. I'll make you a meal fit for a king when I'm back tomorrow. Just stay here and be good.”

Her shoulders sank.

"O…okay….”

“Thank you, Wendy." He kissed her forehead. Not a gesture he consciously meant to give…it just came easy. “I'll make sure you love it here."

She just nodded.

He hummed, satisfied, stroking her cheek a few more times before stepping back.

“I'll see you tomorrow, my dear."

Alastor smiled with those gorgeous pearly whites, with those kind brown eyes, before shutting the door behind him and leaving her all alone.

With nothing but darkness hardly cut by moonlight and promises of love.

Original Notes:

Well I'm happy to say I finally got this chapter finished!! It's been tormenting me for days 😭😭😭 I don't know when the next chapter of CabinCaptive is gonna be. Like I said before, I kinda wanna hold off on this until I finish mainline BloodyBouquet. But that might change! Next upload will probably be another BloodyBouquet chapter? I love my babies and the next 3 chapters are crystal clear in my mind. As always, thank you sososososo very much for reading! It means the world to me that you decided to spend your time ready my shitty self-indulgent fanfiction<3 It'd also make me really happy if you left a comment! us writers love comments >:3

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