Leather and Chains (Main Cenobites/Reader)
Author's Note: Finally posting my most popular oneshot from Wattpad and AO3 on here because why not? This was requested. Honestly this is nothing special.
Warnings/tags: Mentions of stalking, first-person POV, occasional use of y/n, mention of canon typical Hellraiser violence
Being in a poly relationship with four demons was not the easiest thing. Being in a relationship with one human being was hard enough.
I admit, when I solved that puzzle box years ago, I did not understand what I was getting into. At the time, I had hoped that solving it would solve my problems. I knew what it held. I knew that if the demons that the box called to me didn't think I was worthy to become a cenobite, they'd kill me.
At the time, that didn't seem so bad.
But when I opened that box, that other world, it didn't go as planned. The Hell Priest and his posse believed I was worthy, yes, but in a way that didn't involve me becoming a deformed demon in servitude of Hell. I was worthy of something that they didn't offer any other human. I was worthy of their love.
That was many years ago.
I remember that night that the four of them appeared in my room. I was horrified at the time. The only reason I had initially accepted their offer of a relationship was out of fear. If I had declined, I probably would've died that night. But now, no fear lived in me when it came to them. Well, I didn't fear for myself.
There were four cenobites.
There was Butterball. He was an extremely large demon and had no hair and pale skin, much like the others. When I say large, I mean it. Butterball had multiple neck rolls and a large protruding stomach. Round sunglasses had been deeply embedded into his eye sockets and his eyes underneath, from my understanding, were sewn shut. I knew he couldn't see, but I never asked to what extent. His large belly was often exposed. Much like the other cenobites, he had an open wound. His was located on his stomach, pulled apart by hooks that were attached to his leather outfit.
Then there was Chatterer. Out of all the deformities of the cenobites, Chatterer was the more gruesome. Any other person would immediately run after seeing him. His skin appeared to be burned, and it twisted up his head. His eyes were nonexistent, or at least they appeared to be. Instead of eyes, there were two holes on his face where I imagine his eyes once were. His skin was not as pale as the others, and it was red and irritated in a lot of places. And let's not forget his mouth. His teeth were exposed and his lips were drawn back with metal hooks and wire. His lips were almost in the shape of a square. His gums glistened with blood all the time, much like the open wound on the back of his head. I had gotten used to kissing him on the cheek for obvious reasons. He didn't mind either. He could understand the reluctance.
DP was the third cenobite of the group. Over the years I had started to refer to her as DP. The initial name that she had been given in hell was nothing short of gross. Not to mention the fact that she didn't like to be addressed by it. So instead, I used the initials of the name she had been given. I understood why she didn't like her name, but I could also understand why it was given to her. Take one look at her throat and you'd understand. It was cut open. Pulled apart by a contraption that pushed out of her cheeks. Much like the others, she felt no pain from this laceration. Pain for them was entirely different from the pain that humans experienced. She also felt no pain when it came to the long screw that was pierced through the bridge of her nose. In an odd way, DP was extremely beautiful. Her skin was paper white with hints of blue in the lowest parts of her face. Her temples were deep and so were her eyes. For the most part, she was bald, but a couple of strands of blonde hair had survived her transformation in Hell. She looked the most human out of all of them. She definitely was more approachable at times. She was almost always the first one I went to when something was wrong.
Last but not least, there was Pinhead, the Hell Priest. His name was pretty much self-explanatory. Rows of small-headed pins were set deep in his head, sticking out pretty much everywhere. There were also rows of cuts that lined the nails. He was bald, much like the rest. And much like the rest, especially him, he was protective.
Honestly, protective is an understatement.
I had been in relationships before the cenobites where my partners were protective. The cenobites weren't just protective. They were rage-filled. If they suspected anyone even showed a slight interest in me, that person would be dead the next day. At first, it just seemed like a coincidence, but now it was obvious why they ended up dead.
That knowledge has been ringing in the back of my head for days as I approached my final year of college.
Normally, I just quietly worked through the school year. I barely talked to people unless I had to, I didn't go to parties, and I attempted to not draw any attention to myself. That was how college had gone until now. Now there's this guy. I can't even think of his name. Maybe it was Jacob? Jack? Who knows?
At first, I thought this guy in my advanced journalism class was just being friendly. But now, every day, this guy would come up with an excuse to sit near me in class and talk with me. Now he would show up to the same shop where I'd get lunch or seemingly be in the local library when I went to get books. The flirting had escalated to what I considered stalking. It was bad enough having my demonic partners breathing down my necks, but now I had this stranger from a class following me around everywhere. And it was only a matter of time before the demons would find out.
I drove down the long driveway. My house was tucked away in the woods, surrounded by towering pine trees and the faint chirps of birds. The scenery was beautiful, which completely contrasted what was inside the house. I pulled the car up to the front of the house.
I sighed as I turned the car off. It had been such a long, tiresome day. My thoughts were completely scattered. All I wanted to do was go get into some pajamas and sleep for the rest of the weekend.
I silently got out of the car, taking in a deep breath of the cool, crisp autumn air. I opened the back door to get my belongings out of the backseat. As I knelt down to grab my backpack, I felt eyes on me. My head shot up quickly, scanning the surrounding woods. I slowly pulled my backpack out of the car, lifting it up and letting it droop over my shoulder. I closed the car doors and walked towards the house. Stopping in my tracks, I looked up at the house. The windows in the dining room were open. And there sat the source of the eyes I had felt watching me. DP sat at the dining room table, looking out at me. I small nervous smile sprouted on my face as I walked up the stairs of the front porch.
Turning the knob of the front door, I pushed myself in the house, closing the door behind me and dropping my backpack and purse by near the door. The house was much more warm and cozy than the contrasting atmosphere outside. I took off my jacket and laid it on the back of the living room sofa, which was occupied by a sleeping Butterball. I glanced towards the kitchen. DP was still sitting at the dining room table, staring outside. She seemed to be deep in thought. It was either that or she was patiently waiting for me to come to greet her.
I leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on Butterball's forehead, which caused him to stir in his sleep but not wake.
I walked out of the living room and into the dining room, which was an open, shared room with the kitchen. DP stared out the window, seemingly deep in thought. The sunlight from outside lit up the room and caused a dramatic shadow to carve out the features on her chiseled face. I sighed as I made my way to the refrigerator.
"I wonder if she knows about the guy from my class," I thought as I leaned down and grabbed a bottle of water, "If she does, then they all know. And if they all know, then that guy is doomed."
I pulled out the chair across from DP and sat down, slumping in the chair as I opened my bottle of water. She didn't move, didn't even acknowledge the fact that I was sitting across from her. Instead, she faced away from me, towards the window, just watching the outside world. I took a sip of water and stared at the back of DP's head. I closed the water bottle and pushed it aside.
"Something must be wrong," I thought.
Anything could have been wrong, who knows? She could have just been plotting on how to rip that guy's throat out. For all I knew, one of them had probably read my mind if that was even possible. Maybe she knew.
I sighed loudly, hoping to get her attention. She didn't move.
Sigh.
Nothing.
Sigh.
Not even a flinch.
"Maybe she's trying to remember when she wasn't a demon. I know that's hard for her to remember. Or maybe she's messing with me."
SIGH.
"Are you okay?" DP asked suddenly causing my mouth to twist into a small smirk. She continued to look outside. Her shoulders seemed to lower, as if she had finally relaxed.
"Yes, I just had a rough day. What about you?" I questioned, trying to figure out why she had been silently staring out of the window. She knew what I was trying to ask, and she definitely wasn't planning on answering.
"A rough day? May I ask what caused it?" she asked, ignoring my question from before. She slowly turned around in her seat to face me, causing her leather-clad clothes to squeak.
"Just...things haven't been going my way," I answered as I stood up and made my way to the refrigerator once again. I leaned down and opened it, looking for a small snack.
"That's very vague, my love," DP stated. I shrugged my shoulders, although she couldn't see me because of the refrigerator door being in the way.
"Vague, indeed," a deep voice said, making me stand up quickly.
Pinhead stood at the large door frame, leaning on the wood. My mind went into a small panic as I shut the fridge door. I glanced over at DP, who was partially watching Pinhead. She seemed distracted once again, as if she couldn't get something off her mind. They both knew something.
"Have you been enjoying the house?" I asked Pinhead, walking over to him and placing my hands on his shoulder. His eyes scanned over my face.
"Don't try to change the subject," he said.
I sighed, slipping my hands off his shoulders and walking past him.
"It was a genuine question. You guys did just move in. I'm curious," I said as I entered the living room, plopping down on the couch.
Butterball, who was on the other side of the large couch, sat up. He looked at Pinhead and then at me, not sure what was going on. Chatterer also entered the living room, seemingly appearing out of nowhere. He sat down beside me, wrapping his arm around my shoulder. I couldn't tell if it was in a protective way or a comforting way.
"You're trying to change the subject," Pinhead said as he walked behind the couch, leaning on the cushions. I huffed as I stared at him.
"Can you make him stop?" I asked quietly, looking up at Chatterer.
He shook his head and clicked his teeth together a couple of times. DP emerged from the kitchen, walking towards the couch.
"He's just-we're just concerned," DP explained, standing behind Pinhead who hadn't taken his eyes off of me. I tapped my fingers on my leg, impatiently.
"I know you're concerned, but every time you guys get concerned about something you go...off the hinges," I explained.
And it wasn't an understatement. One time a girl got too handsy with me one day. The next day a news report was on the TV about how she had been murdered. Her skin had been ripped off by hooks and chains. If that didn't scream "my partners are jealous, murdering demons" then I don't know what will.
"Oh," Pinhead said, pausing and standing up straight, "so that's the problem."
"I didn't tell you what the problem was. Hell, there is no problem!" I exclaimed.
But there was a problem. I was being stalked. There was no denying it. The guy from my class was stalking me. But that didn't mean that Pinhead should have his way with the poor guy. He just needed to be confronted.
"I believe you, love," DP said, trying to calm me down.
She sat down on the opposite side of me and placed a hand on my knee. "If you don't see him as a problem then we won't do anything," she whispered.
"Wait...so you guys knew? About the guy from my class?" I questioned.
DP nodded.
"Your thoughts are loud, my love. I could hear your mind as you slept last night," she said, putting her hand up to my face, "It was only a matter of time before we found out. His name...is Jackson," she said.
"And we will happily get rid of him," Pinhead butted in.
"ONLY if you want us to," DP snapped back, almost hissing at the Hell Priest for interrupting.
I took her hand and put it into mine. "Please don't. I love the fact that the four of you care so much, but not everything needs to be solved by violence," I pleaded, patting her hand gently.
Chatterer nuzzled his head into my neck.
"I agree," DP said.
She looked over at Pinhead, waiting for him to say something.
"Not everything has to be violent," he said. He knelt down to my ear. "The option is still there though," he whispered, purposely poking the side of my face with his pins, causing me to laugh.
At the end of the day, I guess being in a relationship with four demons isn't all that bad.