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[rineptune]

due to unforeseen events, i will be going on a hiatus until june 1st

[rineptune]

Brat taming Adam(rip) has been on my mind lately I just want to see him with someone who won't take his misogynistic and self-centered attitude and put him in his place

-💅

adam who just loses every snarky, downgrading, misogynistic comment he’s ever thought of the moment you have your way with him. all the words die down on his throat and are replaced with breathy, whiny-pitched moans as you pull another orgasm from him. 

“learned your lesson yet, hm?” you’d coo at him, and he’s thrashing the moment you once again start stroking his dick—whining how “it’s too much— f—fuck, babe! baby, ‘m sorry—! nghh..!” 

adam’s just helpless as he bites back a pleasured sound that he knows he’s capable of doing—but he wouldn’t give you that! he’s too prideful and has an ego to protect. no matter, you’d get it out of him soon. by the end, though, you just wished he’d learned his lesson so as not to test your patience.

[rineptune]

READER GIVE LUCIFER HEAD WHILE HE'S ON A IMPORTANT ZOOM CALL AND HES STRUGGLEING TO KEEP QUIET AND A STRAIGHT FACE

-💅

can you just imagine lucifer losing his composure in the midst of his important meeting with the other sins? his composure is long gone, hands clawing at his desk as he tries his best not to let the others find out that you’re underneath his desk, giving him the best head he’s ever had (spoilers: they already knew from the moment lucifer’s voice began to go uneven).

once his meeting’s over, he’s sweating and out of breath as he looks at you with an exhausted yet relieved, lopsided smile. “fuck, darling, couldn’t wait ‘til after my meeting?” lucifer asks this, knowing damn well he’ll be getting you back all night to make up for you embarrassing him in front of the other sins. 

[rineptune]

Love your writings so much but surprised you aren’t boopable lol

aww, thank u nonnie!! i’m scared to be booped bcs no one might boop me 😔 (nah i’m jk i had no idea booping one another in this platform was a thing now; i’ve been a bit busy too) FJEUSN

i turned on my boop-o-meter, forgive me

[rineptune]

‧  ₊     ˚      ⟡     CINDERELLA.     wc.  1.1k.   highly  suggestive. VOX  X  READER. — you try your hand at redemption but vox calls you back to his office too often to let it be a smooth sailing process for you.

tags.  reader  with  a  vagina,  dry  riding  vox's  lap,  bottom  vox  (but  not  the  whole  time)  name  calling,  enemies  to  lovers  vibes,  sitting  on  his  work  desk  with  him  between  your  legs.

a/n.   i  swear  i'm  working  on  your  requests  but  inspo  rlly  went  dry  in  the  middle  of  all  of  it  T^T  anyway  i've  had  this  for  a  while  now,  lmk  if  you  wanna  be  added  to  the  vox  (or  literally  anyone)  taglist.

masterlist. requests open! <3

“Do you need a blanket? I don’t have a bed in my office but the couch is comfortable, I would know. It’s … four am right now and judging from my past all-nighters at my desk I might be here until ten. You might as well get comfortable.”

Vox’s office would have been pitch black if not for the cyan circular doors that lead to his main desk. Vox had his overcoat over his shoulder and his hands in his pockets, and the fact that he was facing the only light source in his office made it so that the stark difference between the width of his chest and waist was highlighted in the blinding blue lights.

Shit. To have your hands wrapped around that lovely thing right the fuck now. It was too much to bear, your lower stomach tossing in the midnight breeze and the thoughts that plagued you and your mind like an engine waiting to be revved up.

You leaned against the back of the couch and scoffed.

“Fuck you. You don’t call me here for that. Don’t play the good guy now, Vox.”

“It’s four am. It’s reasonable for me to think you’re tired,” Vox said monotonously, though with his eyes at half-mast and faint bags forming under his screen eyes, it had been abundantly clear that he wasn’t in any shape or mood to whip his sharp tongue. “Is it so bad that I just like your company?”

He uttered your name breathlessly, and it came out quicker than you could comprehend it, nearly enough to shake you wide awake.

Perhaps it wasn’t so bad. But it was just inexplicably preposterous to believe that Vox wanted you near just because. This man? Really? The same one who kills his own employees just because they’re the lowest earners?

“Why aren’t you being yourself?”

“What? This is myself.”

“No, no it isn’t it’s—”

“Oh go on, please describe my own personality to me—”

“You’re a prick! See you’re acting like a prick now so why aren’t you being a prick?”

Vox raised a brow at you, his head lowered as his frown turned into a poorly concealed smirk.

“Do you … want me to be a prick?” He asked in a tone that feigned smug innocence.

It didn’t take long before you ended up on his lap, legs spread wide apart as you faced him with your arms on his shoulders and your hands meeting behind his neck. The many screens scattered by his work desk illuminated your back, but the shape of your silhouette casted over him gave you more than enough motivation to make this man sing.

The fabric of his pants were truly being put to the test, becoming a restraint against whatever was within as your own arousal sat snugly on top of it.

You readjusted your legs, causing you to rub up against him and he grunted.

“Hm? What’s wrong?” It was your turn to give him that half-lidded stare, your grin mocking him just as much as your deepened voice had.

His nail guards dug into your thighs and you winced, but that just made you move more as you squeezed your thighs against him.

“Fucking hell,” he cursed your name like you were a god—or perhaps, one of the seven deadly sins. He looked up at you with gritted teeth. “If you wanted to fuck me all you had to do was say.”

“Hmm … no, I don’t think so. Not yet, at least.” You held your chin up high as one of your hands ran down the length of his torso, your finger tracing swirly lines over his clothed abdomen. “I want to make you suffer.”

Vox’s eyes widened for a moment before he chuffed, and that turned into an almost venomous chuckle.

Your eyes wander his torso again only for you to land on his bowtie that was surprisingly still intact given his … less than decent state.

You straightened your posture once more, but every little movement you made proved to be a lick of a pleasure for Vox who had been clawing at the armrest of his seat. Part of you wondered if it’s because he knows he’d draw blood if he continued to scrape at your thighs.

You held his bowtie on either side, twisting and readjusting it a little. At this point, you were probably soaking wet, but your core had been beyond burning as an ache bloomed inside. But it had to wait.

You tilted your head. “I like your bowtie. I think it’s cute.”

Vox looked down then back at you. He exhaled sharply, almost like he wanted to chuckle but didn’t have energy. “Psycho.”

“Pig.”

“Slut.”

“Cuntsucker.”

“Ha! In your dreams.”

“Exactly. Inadequate, that’s what you are, Vox,” you teased gingerly as you poked a finger at his unexpectedly defined chest.

A gust of cold wind overtook you and in one fell swoop, vox picked you up by the thighs then set you down with your ass painfully hitting a higher flat surface. Vox’s nail guards were enough to leave scratches, slowly leaving you before he planted his palms on either side of you on the edge of his table.

He cocked a brow at you again and frowned.

His waist had still been perfectly positioned between your legs. You hooked your feet together from behind his own legs and used them to pull him in closer. Once again the tent in his pants met your arousal, and you made the slightest upward movement with your pelvis and it sent a shock through his antenna.

“If I’m so inadequate then why are you soaking wet?” Vox looked up at you, suddenly recovering from the electricity that had just rippled in his system.

You rolled your eyes. “Because I don’t see you doing anything about it, Mr ceo.”

All you could do was loop your arms around his neck when he engulfed you in a kiss, his hands sliding further down the desk as he leans forward into you. you arched your back in response, and that caused him to rock his lips into yours, making you feel his hard-on right where your arousal was warm and aching.

He pulled away from the kiss.

“Stay with me. Don’t go back to that ratty hotel.”

“In exchange for what?”

“The best fucking sex you’ve ever had in your life, and the best fucking sex you’ll ever have in death.”

You grinned, lowering your head as you looked up at him.

“You’d give it to me either way.”

Vox tilted his head slightly, his lips less than an inch from yours.

“And you’ll play cinderella a second time tomorrow morning.”

[rineptune]

hiatus it is bcs writer’s block is a bitch n also uni has me on a chokehold (kinky)

[rineptune]

🍓🍇🍒🥩 (for the editor n the editor only bcs vox can bite the dust for all i care: ilysm, u’re doing so well 🤧 it’s like being that proud parent whenever their child does anything even though we’re basically the same age)

( babe and the fact that ur the anon who encouraged me to make that rp blog to begin with … this wouldn’t have been possible with you <333 love you nep!! :>> )

[rineptune]

i'm a huge sub lucifer believer but also. i'm shocked lucifer with a corruption kink isn't talked about more

like... as someone with religious trauma. that shits hot. fuckin "you were so devout when you were alive, what would they think of you now with the devil's cock in your mouth?" type shit? god. yes please

devoted to who?

a/n: next level brain activity; i like it. screaming, i need this man so bad

“look at you,” lucifer says lovingly, “all presented to me just. like. this.” 

his words are dangerously slow, emphasizing each word that’s accompanied by a breathy moan as he coaxes you to look up at him. and you do, without much restraint against the devil himself.

“you’re so beautiful like this, dove,” you nearly gag at his sweet praise, cheeks tear-stricken not from how lucifer was rough with you—no, how he treated you was from it—he treated you as if you’re a delicate flower.

one that he desires to corrupt, that is.

“you were so devoted when you were alive,” he chuckled.

“i wonder... what would they think of you now when you have the devil’s cock in your mouth, hm?”

and you’re reminded that you were indeed sucking lucifer’s cock as if your life on earth had deprived you of the pleasure of doing so; well, that part was true. the back of your throat hurts, your jaw going slack as you bob your head alongside guidance, but not once did it ever cross your mind to stop.

“it’s addicting, isn’t it?”

“mmph..!”

“ah ah ah,” lucifer tuts. 

“you know better than to try and speak when your mouth is full, my dove.”

if your former fellow believers saw you now, would they shun you? shame you for indulging in the acts that you lived your human life going against?

outcast you for losing the purity that you swore to reserve for the man you were supposed to marry?

lucifer’s voice doesn’t let you think too far, though. as if he knows just how you’re feeling—what you’re thinking in this exact moment.

“you’d rather do this, right, dove?” he asks.

with little consciousness left in your brain to decide, you nod. lucifer smiles, and you’re unaware that you’ve just signed yourself a paperless deal to be his loving, perfect little devoted dove.

“that’s good, fuck— yeah.. mm. don’t worry; i’ll take good care of you. as long as you devote yourself to me and only me, hm?”

“mmhm..”

“good dove.”

[rineptune]

bite me part two? 🥺👉👈

BITE  ME ( PART 2. )   ALASTOR  (HEAVILY  FT.  LUCIFER)  X  READER. —  you  arrive  back  from  your  outing  with  charlie  and  find  a  familiar  face  at  the  bar.  it  was  unusual  to  find  him  there,  and  when  he  asks  you  what's  wrong,  it's  hard  to  turn  him  away  even  if  you  are  looking  for  someone  else.

tags.  explicit  consent,  but  you  don't  actually  fuck  alastor,  acknowledging  his  asexuality,  jealousy.  plot  contains.  ballroom  dancing  and flirting with  lucifer!  <3 wc.  3.3k

a/n. so sorry this took weeks! i hope you enjoy this anyhow <3

related links . . . part 1. bite me : lucifer’s ver.

masterlist. requests as of 0324 : open.

“You smell delicious, mon cher.”

Your eyes widened at the mirror blurring right in front of you. The dull bathrooms of the hotel hadn’t gone through any paint jobs yet, so in this light, it was the palest, dullest blue that almost glorified the blaring red that your companion possessed. There was no running water and yet the edges fogged up, puffs of greedy heat threatening to reach the very center. You stared right back at your own puzzled complexion, a mix between restraint and twisted bewilderment.

Your hands were limp in Alastor’s slender ones as he held them by your sides, your right hand a little more extended than the other.

He lowered his chin and rested snugly on your shoulder. His eyes shut. His smile was persistent, mocking and as bright as ever.

“Is it truly what you desire?” Alastor asked, and like the moisture that infected the mirror, his bloodied velvet voice rang like a snake’s hiss in your head. “To be … undone by his frivolous charms.”

He spat the words out like it was venom threatening to poison the very tongue he used to keep you right where you were, conflicted with the thrill of your wrestling heart over what this man had been doing to you.

“Alastor …”

“Or would you prefer it to be by my own hand?”

Alastor’s left hand left yours in a quick motion as it went flush against your upper abdomen.

You bit your lip as his hand traveled further down the smooth fabric of your clothing, almost mirroring the movement of sweat rolling down your forehead and cheek.

“Well?” He refrained himself from laughing, but of course it was a very poor attempt.

You were slowly but surely crumpling in his ever tightening grasp.

His hand stopped dead at the very bottom of your stomach.

Your breath hitched. Liquid fire spread in between each strand of hair on your head as you gulped.

“May I?”

“Al, what are you doing? You wouldn’t do this. You’re playing with me,” you dared to speak out amidst the haze of speechlessness that had been cast upon you by this half-done bathroom—by the swell of Alastor’s chest on your shoulder blades, by his entire body that had been so perfect of a puzzle piece against the back of your own.

“Oh, but I would,” Alastor snickered in a low, sinister tone that only finished in a high. “You’ve already witnessed the measures I’d travel just to make myself happy. You and I are both unaware of what I’m capable of doing for the one I yearn for.”

“Al … that’s …”

This is all wrong. He’s going about it the completely wrong way.

Your eyes finally shoot up and away from the mirror that distorted your tunnel-vision view—but that could very well be your own mind overwhelming your body, making it jump hoops all for its own sick gain.

If you started all over again, you couldn’t have guessed you’d end up here. And even if you could … would you have avoided it?

…

The bar had been its usual glowing, droopy green as it always had, with Husk tending to it like he was its loyal servant—and in a way, he was. With being the hotel’s bartender, he was unspokenly tasked to help the poor souls that wander over to his bar to look for solace at the bottom of a whiskey bottle.

But today … had been slightly different.

Slightly different in the sense that Husk … couldn’t read the man before him. He looked … tired, with subtle bags forming below his once bright, wide eyes whenever he looked down, but he still smiled when he downed a shot and settled for red wine after the very first one.

When you and Charlie came bursting in with what would be the sun’s energy if it possessed the power to speak, your eyes matched the man at the bar’s. Husk saw it immediately.

Not just the dark circles under your eyes, or how your shoulders went limp the moment Charlie regrouped with her girlfriend.

Your neck.

It had been very slightly deformed, but he couldn’t explain in what way. In almost every angle, it was flawless skin that looked the same all across your hands, arms and face. But in just one angle in particular …

Husk flinched when Lucifer called your name from across the hotel lobby, waving at you to sit down next to him. The bags disappeared without a trace, with only that bright smile everyone knew so well to accompany his already cheery demeanor. You would have almost forgotten he was even sitting at the gloomy bar in the first place.

“How was your little outing with Charlie? Did you and my little girl have fun?” He asked as his smile persisted through his drinking.

“Yes, sir, we—”

“Oh, no need for that now, just call me Lucifer,” he chuckled as he waved you off.

“Okay,” you smiled, tucking some hair behind your ear. “Are you okay?”

“Oh, yes I’m fine! I’m perfectly fine, why do you ask my dear?” Lucifer raised a brow but his other hand was still wrapped around his half-finished glass of liquor.

“Well, it’s just that—”

You flinched as gentle fingers on your cheek had forced you to twist your neck at an awkward angle.

A whispering breeze blew past a sore spot you had forgotten.

You swatted Lucifer’s hand away and gasped at your own sharp reaction.

“Shit, I’m so sorry sir I—”

“Who did that to you?”

His voice crumbled unstable, being held up by only his will to know what happened. He glanced up at you, brows tensed and pulled together.

You covered your neck, rolling your lips into a crumpled line.

“Lucifer, it’s nothing, really,” you insisted.

Lucifer reached out again. “At least let me heal it—”

“You can’t,” you said, gently deflecting his hand once more.

He blinked a few times. His gaze briefly rested on your shoulder before resuming to his own glass as he sighed silently.

“Alright then.”

He snapped his fingers and summoned a soft scarf from a pume of red smoke. He presented it to you with two hands and you took it wearily, but wrapped it around your neck as soon as you had it in your grasp.

“We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to. I’m only worried,” he said, and your name was exhaled from his lips like it was something he’d been keeping in.

“Could you at least … think about it? For me?”

“Think about what?”

“Letting me heal your wound. It looks painful,” Lucifer added as he squinted back at where your wound would have been had you not covered it up with the scarf.

“I’ll …” you paused as you looked away. The lobby had been rather empty tonight considering the evening was settling in, this was usually when people would be flooding either into the dining hall for dinner or out to catch their own meals.

Your gaze fell on Charlie who had been Vaggie’s headrest as they watched tv together in the lobby. They don’t usually do this, so you had a feeling it might have had something to do with the man right in front of you. After all, it wasn’t a usual sight to see him anywhere near the bar considering he clearly found it distasteful.

“I’ll think about it.”

Lucifer nodded. A warm smile overtook his cheeks. “Thank you.”

Husk glanced between you and Lucifer and set down the empty wine bottle he’d been wiping at the side.

He walked over to the back of the bar where the other bottles of liquor were on display and reached for a small radio with knobs on either side. He knew that this would come in handy someday, even if he hated to admit that the radio demon was right.

He turned the knob once, and a fast-talking demon barely got a word in before he turned it again. It took a few more turns before he settled on a song he was lucky to have stumbled upon.

The slow, swaying tune of trumpets began to play, the sound bouncing off the walls to create an ambience similar to that of an old film shot in a fancy hotel just like this one.

And like the corrupt angels heard Husk’s scattered prayers, Angel Dust appeared by the main stairs of the hotel.

“Hey, I’m just gonna head out for dinner,” he called to him before his eyes wandered the ceilings. “Hey, what’s this fancy tune?”

The radio had been magically routed throughout the hotel lobby, and it had been like this since Alastor had given him this radio to tuck away in case of ‘dire situations.’

Everyone looked around the walls of the hotel, amazement filled in the glimmers of their eyes at what they were hearing.

“Just a lil’ somethin’ to lighten up the mood. I haven’t been outside but I’m sure it’s a fine evening,” Husk says rather apathetically, considering the actual content of his words.

“Hey, wait I know this song!” Angel Dust perked up as his eyes widened just as much as his agape smile had. “Husk, c’mon!”

Charlie and Vaggie had already taken the floor and slow-danced in swirls.

Angel Dust rushed towards the bar and beckoned Husk once more.

“It … is a lovely night,” Lucifer uttered your name once more, catching your attention as you exchanged tired gazes with him. “Care to dance, love?”

Lucifer offered you his hand.

But all you saw were the memories of what had happened upstairs not too long ago. The striking pain, the oozing pleasure—Alastor’s gaze.

“Lucifer, it’s very sweet of you, but I can’t,” you refused again.

Lucifer’s already effete smile dissipated, but his hand remained persistent.

“It’s only a dance, my dear. With all the things that wear you down, I can’t think of a more perfect distraction,” Lucifer persisted as his hand remained extended out before you.

You considered Lucifer’s words for a minute. Alastor hasn’t appeared when he usually does whenever Charlie comes back from an errand, and you didn’t want to disturb him especially after the intimate moment you shared before leaving. It must have been a lot for him considering his sexual orientation, even if sex wasn’t involved.

And, Lucifer had been nothing but endearing since you came back. He didn’t pry into your business even if you knew he could tell that you were fatigued.

You hooked a finger in the scarf Lucifer had given you, as if to remind yourself of just how patient and kind Lucifer had been when even he seemed out of it tonight.

You nodded as you took his hand, and you yelped at the sudden pull of your entire body as he spun you around. Before you could reorient yourself, you were in the empty floors of the hotel lobby, with one hand clasped on Lucifer’s own, and the other on his shoulder. His other hand held your waist upright as you danced in tandem, you and Lucifer’s feet like two parts of the same mechanism. His one step forward was your one step back.

“Kiss me once and kiss me twice and kiss me once again, it’s been a long, long, time …”

His eyes remained on you, a gentle smile shone in the gold lighting of the hotel. Perhaps this was why he was named the Morningstar; the setting sun whispered over his cheeks and his gaze, even if it had now been tainted red, was still something to behold.

“Did I tell you you look lovely tonight?” Lucifer asked gingerly.

You held back a chuckle. “You might have mentioned it, yes.”

“Oh, you kid,” Lucifer grinned as he shook his head. “The answer is ‘no,’ dear.”

“Then what was the point of asking?”

Lucifer paused, and all you could do was search his features for an answer.

“It was so that I can tell you a million times over.”

You only had a second to react when he spun you a lot slower this time, and you were actually able to catch a glimpse of Husk and Angel dancing nearby and … was that a stain on the wall?

“You look lovely tonight,” Lucifer uttered in hushed tones, the low voice casting a fumes over your line of thought.

He pulled away from you for a moment, but had a firm grasp as your only link to him was both your hands, arms outstretched to each other. He pulled you back towards him again, your chest to be flush against his own as your hand instinctively found his again.

“You look lovely tonight,” he repeated in a more hopeful tone, and by this time you understood what he was doing and you finally let yourself laugh.

As the song slowed to an end, he dipped you delicately as his arm steeled under your lower back to hold the rest of you up.

“You look … lovely. Tonight,” Lucifer finished.

He helped you up as your eyes locked onto his, though, if you were being honest with yourself, it might have been locked there for just about the entire dance; you were just too busy exploring what laid beneath. You finally returned his solemn smile and he reached to the side of your face to tuck some stray hair behind your ear.

You tilted your head towards his touch, as if it was almost by instinct again.

“You know, I was looking to … loosen up tonight, if you catch my meaning,” Lucifer lifted his chin as hints of that signature grin peeked through his lips.

A raindrop string, a bird’s cry—what had been something so endearing had suddenly turned strangely bittersweet. The answer had been more than sparkling clear in your head.

“Lucifer, I—”

Your eyes instinctively fell on that dark spot on the wall again.

And your entire body shivered ice cold. You perked up and away from Lucifer’s hand as the stain on the wall sneered at you.

“What’s wrong?” Lucifer asked.

Except, it really wasn’t a stain on the wall. More of a shadow in the chair. Alastor materialized fully into a single seater by the tv, eyes squinted as his close-mouthed smile stretched from ear to ear.

Alastor’s high pitched cackle echoed in your head as he dissolved into black wisps again, his shadow stretching towards the half-done women’s public bathroom of the hotel.

“Did you hear that?”

“No … what’s—”

“I’m sorry, I have to go—um, to the bathroom.”

Lucifer called your name as you slipped away from him, but you ignored his call as you rushed into the bathroom like you said you would.

When you burst through the door, the bathroom sat humid and abandoned with the air conditioning of the hotel kept completely out from the stuffy room. The structure of it had really come together nicely, so it wouldn’t have looked nearly as creepy if the team had gotten the paint job done this week.

“Why have you come, dear?” That smooth yet high pitched voice echoed not just in your head this time, but it ricocheted off the walls and back at you to hear it ring a second, third, and fourth time.

Alastor was loudest over your shoulder. You felt his breath tickle your neck as his shoes clicked along the tiled floors. He walked around you, finally showing himself as he planted his cane on the floor between both of you.

“Lucifer and I were just talking and I was looking for you after we came back but you didn’t come to see us. Then music played and …”

Alasto waited a while before speaking up himself. “And what?”

“Oh c’mon Al, could you just—not do this for once? Please? You know what I’m trying to say. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to … do that.”

“Do what? Dance with the very man that has me scratching layers of my own skin and flesh out?” Alastor looked up in thought, though knowing him, this remark had been smeared all over his lips since he’d first observed you with Lucifer. All he’d done was scrape the nastiest parts and flung it right at you.

“Alastor, I didn’t know if I should have disturbed you when I got back, alright? Don’t be like that. I really am sorry—and you’re being mean about it, I’m trying to be genuine here,” you protested as you folded your arms over your chest.

“Oh, darling,” Alastor sighed sympathetically. He approached you with just a step or two forward, and with your head still hung low, your eyes zipped at him as he laid a gentle hand on top of your own.

That hand grabbed yours and in a gush of wind, you were in front of the mirror with Alastor’s entire body glued to your back.

. . .

And you’re back in the present. His hand was a clothing iron to your lower stomach, burning and sticking to you like you had to get it off.

“Alastor, do you think I’d choose Lucifer over you for sex?” You shrieked in disbelief.

Alastor’s lips pursed in thought. “It’s the one thing he acquired that i have not. It’s the only thing I can think of.”

“And you’d make yourself uncomfortable … just to keep me from leaving you?”

You feel Alastor slowly nod with his head still pressed against you.

“It’s an indulgence i find useless and quite incomprehensible however—”

You broke out of his grasp and turned around, your hands ending up around his nape.

“Al.”

His complexion relaxed from its previously shocked state. He blinked, and he pinned you against the sink when he leaned into you, his hands on either side of the sink’s edge.

“I think it’s very sweet that you would do that for me,” you began shakily. “But I also … I want you to want me.”

Alastor tilted his head.

“But I do want you, darling. Just earlier up in my quarters I was thinking how lovely it would be to read dracula to you while you drift off to sleep.”

You smiled sheepishly, finally breaking eye contact with him as you lower your head.

“Yes. I’d like that very much. But that’s not what I’m talking about, dear,” you reiterate with honey that Alastor could taste in your tone as you felt him ease up in your hands, he somehow grew warmer, softer—like he had been making himself easier to hold for you.

“I’m … I’m talking about sex.”

“Yes. If you’d like that then—”

“No, Al. I’ve accepted that you’re aromantic and asexual a long time ago. And I consider myself lucky to be in some sort of exclusive arrangement with you already.”

“‘an individual that rarely experiences romantic or sexual attraction.’”

Your eyes widened. “You know?”

“I asked Niffty to use voogle because I felt my skin crumple and bubble at the very thought of participating in that picture box head’s scheme. But yes, I am now aware of such terms. I find that it suits me quite well.”

“I’d like to respect that, Al. You’re who I want to spend all my time with. And if sex makes you uncomfortable then we don’t have to do it. I can always do it myself.”

Alastor continued to smile as if you hadn’t said anything. As if you hadn’t just handed him your heart—blood, arteries and all—on a silver platter. You bit your lip and it pulsated like a heartbeat, but maybe you were just getting lightheaded.

Alastor finally pressed his forehead to yours, closing his eyes as his grin shrunk down to a barely visible smile.

“Thank you, my treasure.”

That night, as Alastor had mentioned, you went to bed in matching pajamas as he read your own book to you, Dracula by Bram Stoker. You fell asleep quite a while after he’d begun reading, and even if Alastor barely gets any sleep at all, he still shifts next to you under the sheets to have you close.

taglist : (comment if you’d like to be on it! tell me if there’s other characters you’d like to be tagged for as well <3) @whateverlololo @shunsuiken @rineptune

[rineptune]

the princess of hell and her princess

[rineptune]

Really got into Radioapple lately, have a bunch of sketches 📻🍎💕

[rineptune]

i may appear intimidating, but here i am, scared to approach my moots’ inboxes cause the anxiety is anxiety-ing

[rineptune]

smile like you mean it

[rineptune]

a moment of triumph.

a once-in-neptune’s-lifetime tribute to vox stans for his win on an x poll (that i was not aware of until he actually won). also for @voxasks’ milestone or wtvr

“are you enjoying yourself, hm?”

“aaha— fuck— mmmh, shit!”

there was no coherent reply from vox, and he wasn’t even sure if he could think of something to say to you with the way you’re pumping his aching dick at a pace that had his system shortcircuiting every few seconds.

god, he could feel your very movement—intense and calculated—to the point that he came all over himself a handful of times already. vox’s eyes were shut, breathlessly whimpering how good he felt underneath your grasp.

“what would happen if we were to go live now, hm?” your voice barely made it to him, and the thought sends absolute chills to vox’s body.

“after all... publicity is still publicity, isn’t that right, whore?”

vox grits his teeth, though it falters the moment you pay attention to his leaking tip. so messy and delicious, he knows you’d ravish him later on into the night. the night has only begun, after all.

“f—fuck you, you s̷̯͙̮̓͆a̸͚͙̐̂d̶̞̈́i̸̱͎̦͆s̸̮̹̝̈́͠t̷̺̻͘i̵̝̘͝c̸̼͇̯̱͂̎͗̚ b̸̩̰͓́ȋ̵̛̠̱̬́̐t̶̤̞̉̋͝ͅc̴̥̜̻͔͒͐̉̇h̶̬̩̙͌̋.”

“hush,” and all snark and hostileness died down on his throat when he came unexpectedly all over your hand. his back arched, twitching as ropes of thick cum spurted out, a clear result of how you handled him.

“you love it, don’t you, vo?”

“g—fuck— so g̶̈́̓̽͑͜o̷̧͗͑͒ȍ̴̥͈d̵̠̺̥̍ͅ, feels so good—“

he’s rambling, all thoughts wiped out and replaced by clouded thoughts of lust and high-rise pleasure. and it’s all because of you, of course.

“give me another one, yeah?”

“can’t—” vox whimpered, shaking like a leaf, “h̵̢̐͐ű̴͇͕̿̍͠ř̷̠̯̩̆͆t̶̗̜̥͛̏̋̈́s̶̬͓͈̠̔̉. i can’t anymore.”

“pathetic,” you scoff, though you relented and let him have his much deserved rest.

“but i’ll let it slide this time. you did win, didn’t you, pretty boy?”

vox manages to nod, collapsing against your arms with a whine of finally grasping warmth and solace. and once he relaxed, the power throughout pride went out, and all fell silent, but you knew vox basks in the moment of triumph, contented of his reward from you.

[rineptune]

He wants the Entire stall<3

[rineptune]

“hurt charlie and i kill you.”

“i would never dream of it, your majesty.”

[rineptune]

Hey girlie!! 😚 Do you write for Vox by any chance?? 🥰

..no, but @bindeds would