(You already know who this is.
A nice little masochist Antisepticeye x reader. ♡)

My mind is a complete blank. What am I supposed to be doing with this?

You stare at the paper on your desk in utmost disbelief. Just minutes prior you had all sorts of ideas running through your mind, but now? Now they had vanished, like cotton candy on the tongue. Only this aftertaste wasn't nearly as sweet.

No, no, get a grip on yourself. A little writer's block is nothing to be ashamed over. It happens to the best of us.

Brows furrowed, your grip on the pen began to tighten, but you released it altogether moments before it snapped. The last thing you needed would have been to clean up ink stains from your clothing and skin.

The apartment was in disarray, like it usually was. Your therapist called it "creative chaos", and thoroughly believed that it helped with the writing process. And so your place hadn't seen a clean day in months, mostly because you couldn't really be bothered to even try. Not when your livelihood depended on your creative mind.

The mess was mostly books, but there were random sketches, some paintings, a couple of food containers here and there, all of them empty. The trash was overflowing to the point of bulging. At least the apartment didn't smell.

Yet.

Running hands through your hair first, you swept an arm across the desk, knocking still more books and papers onto the floor in a frustrated motion. The clatter disrupted the silence in an unpleasant way, and you fought down the urge to scream out of sheer annoyance.

Fuck writing longhand! This isn't fucking helping!

It had been weeks since you were able to produce anything. Months, even. You had honestly lost track of the time. Too often were you sat at the computer, fucking around on the internet instead of trying to be productive. But the knowledge of that fact only made the creative block worse.

Sure, you had a job. But you were also trying desperately to be published. You didn't want to work in a restaurant for the rest of your life; food service was it's own special kind of Hell.

Unable to fight the inevitable you winced as you stood up from the clutter-free desk, going to sit at your computer instead. It was an old thing, barely good for anything other than writing and the internet- and the latter was skeptical. Lately it had begun to die, crashing on occasion and otherwise just being unreliable. Putting a foot through it was always an option, but it was the only contact you had with the outside world. You had few friends, and those that you DID consider a friend, well... you used the word loosely. You were fairly certain that you were someone easily replaced.

Sure enough the screen began to glitch out in multicolored lines, and you frowned deeply. As badly as you wanted to throw it out the seventh-story window of your apartment, you had to settle for smacking it on the side, instead. A little percussive maintenance seemed to do the trick, as the glitching stopped.

Hours passed, and you had fallen into a stupor, numb in the mind, unable to crawl your way out of your own thoughts.

Maybe I'm making the wrong decision. Trying to be an author, who am I kidding?

Your frown, which had been ever-present to begin with, only deepened. Soon, surely, the tears would come. But another hour dragged by without so much as a bit of moisture in your eyes.

Everyone always talks about the sadness, the tears and the agony of depression. No one ever talks about the numbness.

It was a depressing thought, but it was also one that you could not seem to stop. You laid your head down on the computer table and closed your eyes, wishing for... something. Anything.

But of course... nothing happened.

■■■

All at once you awoke with a start. Your eyes were wide; what had you been dreaming about? It was said that creative people had the best imaginations, but also the worst nightmares. So... what the fuck?

Your computer had been left on, paused in the middle of a video on YouTube. There were lines going across the screen again, and you frowned deeply. So much for the percussive maintenance.

I don't remember watching this...

Frowning you stared at the video, on pause. Something called "I AM ETERNAL". What kind of horror movie cliché was this bullshit? With a sigh you shut the computer off and got up from the desk, wincing as the beginnings of a headache started to take hold in your head. This was going to be a long night, you could already tell.

As exhausted as you were, depression aside, you could not sleep. Something about your computer was bothering you; you did shut it off, right? With a groan you slid out of bed once more, bare feet padding on the hardwood floors as you returned to the living/office space.

The computer was on, glitching out and back on that YouTube video.

What the actual flying fuck.

You frowned deeply, going to shut it off once more. Then, for good measure, you unplugged the good-for-nothing machine from the outlet on the wall.

Maybe I was hallucinating earlier. Imagined that I shut it off, I don't know.

Your head thumped as you returned to bed, sinking into the comfort of the blankets and pillows. One benefit of sleeping alone: you had the entire bed to yourself.

Not even a half hour later you heard the faint electrical buzzing of something being turned on. Was it the television this time? A creeping sensation began to crawl it's way up your spine as you slowly climbed out of your bed. Surely...

The computer was back on.

Suppressing the urge to vomit you checked the outlet nearby: sure enough, the computer was unplugged. Fear rose in your throat like the bile that your body was threatening to spew.

Maybe I really AM hallucinating.

A new sound. This one more terrifying than having your computer turn on on it's own. This one sounded like a giggle, high and soft, almost muffled.

Someone's in my fucking apartment.

■■■

Slowly, afraid to make any sudden movements, you armed yourself with a kitchen knife.

The giggle again, this time almost directly in your ear. Whipping around, you brandished the knife at--

Nothing.

Frowning deeply you scoffed. Maybe you were just caught in a bad nightmare?

But there was no mistaking that creeping sensation, like a hand just barely brushing the ends of your hair. You winced and ducked away from that feeling, eyes darting around the room, vainly trying to find the source of all the awful sensations you were going through.

"YoU Let mE IN, yOu kNoW~"

The disembodied voice seemed to come from all sides of the room, echoing vaguely. It was distorted and strained, as though the speaker was holding back something, some unseen emotion.

"Who the fuck are you and how the fuck did you get into my apartment?! Answer me!!"

The voice giggled again. "I aM EVERYWHERE~" As if to make sure that the voice wasn't lying, you swung the knife around a little, not coming into contact with anything. You would have been surprised if you had. "YoU Let mE iN. So ThaNK yOu," it taunted. It sounded vaguely male but you didn't want to assume.

"What do you want with me?" Your voice had grown unsteady rather quickly; whomever this was, was not normal.

"You."

"How romantic," you spat despite the shakiness. "Kindly fuck off and get the fuck out of the apartment you son of a bitch."

He hated that word. They taunted him with it, and he loathed it. From the darkness a hand shot out, grabbing a great handful of your hair and pulling your head backwards, exposing your throat. The cold metal of a blade pressed against it. "CalL mE a BitCH aGaIN. I DARE yoU."

That voice was distorted and glitchy, phasing in and out of reality like it was computer-generated. The room had an acrid, stinging smell, like smoke had filled the area surrounding you. Whoever had you in their grip surely had something to do with that stench. "P-please... let me go..." you murmured, dropping the knife to the floor with a clatter.

"BuT I don'T WANT To~" the stranger teased. There was a tongue in your ear, which made you squirm and cry out in disgust. He simply laughed; your reactions were priceless. "YoU've gOT sOme IssUEs. You'RE WEAK. YoU'Ve ALWAYS bEeN wEAk."

What weakness could he possibly have been talking about? But you knew already; you were in the throes of depression. Day after day of feeling numb, crying all night long and sleeping too much, only to wake up and force yourself to try to be productive. It was a vicious cycle that you would have given anything to be rid of. "S-so fucking what?"

"I cAn cURe You," he whispered in your ear, "bUt it'LL CosT yOU."

Cure you? You wished it were that simple. You let out a short, harsh note of laughter. "Listen fuckwad, if curing depression was that easy I'd have done it already. You don't fucking get it." Your heart was in your ears, and the blade at your throat pressed ever so slightly against the flesh. You weren't bleeding... yet.

"AlL deMOnS rEQuiRe a SaCrifICe." His tongue in your ear again, nibbling at the earlobe and sending violent, unwarranted chills down and through your legs. You could feel how sharp his teeth were. "So GivE me WHat I wAnT, aND I'lL fIx yoU RiiigHT up."

Was he mocking you? It was difficult to tell. And what in the seventh circle of Hell could he possibly want from you?

He chuckled quietly, the sound distorted. "So nAivE... I liKE tHaT aBOut YoU."

"I am not fucking naive! Go to hell you little bitch!"

Maybe it was the wrong choice of words. He did mention how he hated being called a bitch, and yet you had just done so twice now. With a painful kick you landed on the floor, where you promptly spun around onto your back to get a good look at your attacker.

Acid-green hair, inky black eyes, and a sickly sweet smile greeted you. He was taller than you were, lean but strong. Whatever he was, his body was glitching in and out of reality, shifting and moving in unnatural ways.

All at once you were sinking deep inside, so you laid on the floor and stared at the ceiling. "Look. I don't know what you want but get it over with and leave me alone."

"Tsk... ruIN mY FUN, WhY doN't yOU. CuNT."

"Don't fucking call me that, I hate that word."

His black eyes narrowed down at you. "LiKe I giVe A SHIT WhaT yoU lIke aND DoN'T LikE." He knelt down beside you, gazing down at your lifeless expression. "You'RE dEaD inSIde. JuSt liKE mE." One hand behind his back he brought forth a knife, waving it slowly in front of your face. Making a motion as if to slit your throat. Your heart began to pound when he started to giggle again. "Do yOu KNow WhaT tHEy Call mE? ThE GliTCh bITcH." Then his eyes narrowed. "DO yoU kNow hOW mUch I HaTE ThAT?"

He was speaking as if you cared. The only thing you cared about was the knife in his hand. Eventually he let the blade vanish into static, disappearing altogether. You let out a sigh of relief, but a minor one; after all, he was still there. He did not vanish with his knife. "Why are you really here?"

"YoU sUmmONeD Me. I'll leAVe WheN I PleASE." He stood back up and began to pace around your messy abode. "WhaT a FucKInG PiTy yoU cAn't kEEp yoUr LifE in OrdER."

Demon or not, he was a real piece of work. Frowning as you sat up, you glared at him as he paced. "What a fucking pity I'm not giving you anything."

"Oh? NoT a THinG, ArE yoU sURe?" The demon smirked and plopped himself onto your sofa. "LooKS liKE I'll bE heRe a LONG tIMe, tHeN."

■■■

True to his word, the demon did not leave. You had given up and gone to bed, staring at the ceiling for god knew how long before you finally passed out.

When you woke up, he was in your bed.

You shrieked and fell off the side, narrowly missing the table beside it and therefore avoiding a concussion. He rolled on the bed with laughter, clutching his sides as though scaring you was the funniest thing in his life.

It might not have been so far from the truth.

"Why the fuck are you still here?!" you screamed at him, standing back up in a hurry.

The demon lounged on your bed, on his side with his head propped up by one hand. "I tOlD You, yOu sUmMONed Me. I'lL leAVe wHen I PLeasE."

He had been summoned, in some way, and would only leave when he got his offering. But you had nothing to give to him. Nothing that would appease a demon, anyways. "I've got nothing for you," you muttered, slowly sitting on the edge of your bed. He didn't seem as though he was about to attack; he could have done so during the night if he really wanted to, while you were asleep and defenseless.

"Oh, TheRe'S SomEtHInG I WanT, aLL rIGht." He licked his upper lip at you, showing off teeth that seemed impossibly sharp.

Was he fucking kidding? "I'm not having sex with you."

"ThEN yoU jUSt Got YouRSeLf a NeW rOomMatE." The demon relaxed on your bed, a shit-eating grin across his relatively-handsome face. Despite everything, he looked all right. When he wasn't being a shithead.

You had no idea as to how to kill a demon, and you certainly weren't about to succumb to his wishes. But you didn't want him around, either! You were at a total loss for words, turning away from him, your mind a blank.

I wonder how long he'll actually stick around if he doesn't get what he wants.

■■■

That thought had been a good month ago. The demon- whose name you discovered was Anti, after some curious prying- had stuck around and generally annoyed the piss out of you. He was fond of cutting his body in random places. He loved pain, and was a true masochist to himself. That didn't mean he didn't have a sadistic streak to him, of course, as whenever your temper flared he was threatening. He had actually cut you several times, but they were always shallow, minor injuries. Always.

You were currently nursing one of those cuts at the kitchen table while he played with one of his black knives, smirking down at you. He was a patient demon, in some ways. In others he was the most impatient son of a bitch you had ever known. But Anti knew what it was he wanted, and he would not leave until he got it.

Of course... he could simply kill you for taking so long, but that would ruin his fun. You had fire inside of you, and that fire fueled his own. Watching you bandage your leg, he lay a hand over the wound with a smirk. "YoU knOW eVeryTHinG wILL gO awAy if You JusT giVE In..." he purred to you, rubbing your leg.

You promptly removed his hand and removed your leg from the table. "I told you once, I told you a million fucking times. No."

"So StUBboRn. I lIKe tHat." His blade vanished in a mess of static like it always did, which was a good sign. You'd gotten sick of his constant bleeding all over your apartment, but it also meant he wasn't going to cut you. Or himself, which irked you in a strange way that you couldn't explain.

You sighed and sat back in the chair, frowning. "You know damn well I'm not gonna give in to you."

"AnD?"

"And why are you still here?"

Anti got in your face with that same shit-eating grin, almost close enough to touch you. Or worse. "BecAUsE I lovE yOU." Then he cackled, throwing his head back. Playing with you was so much fun!

"Go to hell. Go BACK to hell."

"I finD It QuiTE loVElY, tHanKS." The demon got in your face again and did something he had never done before: kissed you. But it wasn't a gentle, sweet kiss, no; he shoved his tongue into your mouth with a groan, one hand behind your head to pull you into it.

All you could do was bite at the offending tongue. He broke the terrible kiss and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, glaring down at you. "Don'T YoU LIKE mY kiSSes?"

"You call that kissing? I call it violating my mouth!"

"ThEn leT me vIOlaTe sOmeThinG eLse~"

"You have a snowball's chance in hell, you glitch bitch."

His eyes flashed dangerously. You weren't playing his game correctly. You were supposed to just storm off in anger at his advances and sexual jokes, not call him the one thing he truly loathed. "Say that again." His voice had lost it's distortion, which was a new thing. That day just seemed to be full of surprises.

"Glitch. Bitch." You spoke each word carefully, glaring at him from your place at the kitchen table.

Anti slowly came closer, getting in your face for the third time. "Again."

"Glitch bitch."

His tongue lapped at the side of your face, making you cry out in disgust. "What the fuck?!"

"You're making me hard," the demon whispered in your ear. "I hate that name so fucking much but coming from your mouth it's not so bad."

Ugh. There went your only weapon against the bastard. "You said you hated that name."

"I do." His hand snatched yours, bringing to his covered length and forcing you to feel just how excited he had gotten. "And yet I can't help myself."

Disgusted you snatched your hand back, standing up and backing away from the demon. "Just fucking leave me alone already! You're never getting what you want!"

"Then keep calling me a glitch bitch so I can get off." His words were frank and revolting, and you sneered at him.

"Like I said, you've got a snowball's chance in hell."

■■■

Another week had passed since what you would have called that turning point. You made sure not to call him a glitch bitch, for you didn't need him getting aroused from your verbal abuse. He truly was a masochist.

But one day you got so frustrated with his constant, annoying presence that you let it slip, and he grinned wide. "I dO loVE hEaRInG yoU SaY tHAt," Anti retorted once the words had left your throat.

"Whatever. It doesn't change the fact that you are one. A bitch. You're a stupid fucking worthless demon who can't even complete some contract because he doesn't have the balls to take what he wants without permission." The insults were thrown about carelessly, and you were hardly paying attention to him until he groaned.

He had fallen to his knees, watching and listening intently. One hand was pressed between his legs, unable to help himself. It wasn't his fault he was the way he was! Your upper lip curled back a bit. "YoU'Re sO mEAn," Anti muttered, eyes never leaving yours.

"Shut the fuck up. What the fuck are you doing? Get up and get over it."

Quick as a flash he had gotten up, like you had demanded, but he threw you against the wall, pinning you by your hips and pushing his own against them. "Do YoU FEEL iT? DO YOU? ThiS iS YOUR fAulT."

"Ugh! Get the fuck off of me!!" You shoved him by the shoulders but he didn't budge. Leaning in he nipped at your neck, sending a wave of unwanted chills down your spine.

"You'RE so WEAK." Tongue in your ear he began to grind his hips into your own, hands starting to bruise your skin. "GivE Me wHat I WAnT aNd I'll lEavE. YoU kNOw I WilL. I'll eVEn cUre yOUR sTupiD fUCkinG dEpRessIon."

More than a month's worth of his presence had softened your resolve, but only to a certain extent. Would sex with a demon really be so bad?

Of course it would be!

With as much strength as you could muster you backhanded the demon, who took a step back, hand pressed to the wounded cheek. His inky black eyes were wide, jaw hanging open. You had actually struck him. Him, a fucking demon! Had he gone soft?

You were panting in your anger and in the more foreign sensation of actual arousal. How dare he make you feel like this?! "Do that again and I'll fucking stab you like I meant to the first night," you warned. Just to make yourself clear, you snatched one of your kitchen knives, pointing it at him.

"IS tHat a pRomISe?" The pain wasn't lasting, not really, but it was delicious. His length had begun to throb at the need for contact. "Stab me. Cut me wide open. Slice that fucking knife across my throat and make me cum, bitch!!" Anti cried out. He could heal himself, after all, and it would be the epitome of pleasure if you would carve into him yourself.

Perhaps he had grown rather fond of you. Or he had only grown more twisted. You couldn't even begin to fathom the truth. But the idea of being able to cut into him was a tempting one. Perhaps he would leave after all?

Was it worth a shot?

Without warning you came closer, still gripping the blade tightly in your hands as you came forward. But you didn't stop, driving the knife into his stomach. He coughed out blood after about a minute, being gracious enough to turn his head away. Anti groaned loudly, rolling his head back as his eyes closed.

He was stroking himself outside of his jeans already. The pain was immense, but also arousing to no end. "Stab me again, I can take it. I can't die," he murmured to you.

Pulling the blade out you drove it back in, deeper this time. Blood began to flow over your hands, dripping to the tiled kitchen floor. Grunting with the effort of removing the knife again you let it clatter to the floor. Then, to add fuel to the fire, you began to grope him yourself, bloodied hands and all. He was immensely hardened by now, and you were still mildly surprised despite everything he had already shown you. "You're a little bitch," you whispered.

He bit at his lower lip, smirking as he looked down to watch you. "Snowball's chance in hell, huh?"

"If I get you off will you leave?" you demanded to know.

Gripping your wrist he stopped you. "If you're gonna stroke, stroke it right." Blood was simply running down his body like a river, as black as night, but he paid it no mind as he undid his jeans for you. Exposing himself to you, you couldn't help but notice the precum already beading at the head. Your hands still stained black with his blood, you stroked him harder. A groan escaped his lips; this was exactly what he wanted. Pain and pleasure all in one perfect mix. "That's it baby, harder. Make it rough, make me bleed."

Like he had done to you, you pushed him against the wall, stroking him furiously. Anti's jaw fell open as he began to cry out, hips thrusting against your hand.

Something felt missing, and you knew what was needed to seal the deal, so to speak. Leaning into his ear you whispered, "You little glitch bitch."

The demon gushed right then and there, thick ribbons of his demonic seed shooting out onto the floor and all over your hand. You immediately pulled away, going to wash your hands in the sink. He sank to his knees, panting raggedly. "I haven't cum that HaRD in ages," he whined, glitching a slight bit.

"You know the deal. I get you off, you cure my fucking depression and leave me alone." Once he left you had every intention of destroying your computer.

There was a long pause, in total silence while he thought things over. "... no."

You whipped around, furious. "Why the fuck not?!"

Anti grinned wide. "BecAUsE I'm YOUR gliTcH bItCH."