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selenezq · 2 months

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that was so good 🥵🥵🥵

Hiya Guys - Anyone up to read a fic I wrote to battle my little writers block? :> I know jack shit about Alchemy, so I drew a lot of my references and ideas from FMA - But I've already planned for a second part, and thanks to the lovely @impale-me-radio-daddy I have some good pointers and sources to dip my toes in more into the mechanics of Readers ability! ;> Until then: Have fun with this!

"Again, thanks, but no thanks, Carmilla. The whole 'overlord'-thing isn't my cup of tea."

The demon in front of you sighed, closing her eyes for a moment - maybe to not appear as aggravated as you knew she was. Carmilla Carmine has hounded you to join the other big players of Pride who called themselves overlords and acted like they were above everyone else. But you had no intentions or aspirations to mingle among the power-greedy wannabes and parochial moguls, as you told her - in much more diplomatic words - multiple times. The fact that she hadn't tried to force you into compliance only spoke about the power you held, almost wasted on you. Almost.

"I really think it would be...", Camilla started again, but your patience had run thin.

"...beneficial for all involved. It's like a broken record player at this point, no offense. And I hope you'll finally take my 'No' as an answer - Cross my heart, you'll be the first person to know if I change my mind." The warning tone in your voice and you standing up from the chair opposite to her office desk made her give you a sharp, cautious look, but she retreated.

"I understand. I won't press you on the matter anymore." She said, tactically calm, and raised her hands in surrender.

You just nodded her a courteous goodbye and exited her office, chin high as you walked down the corridors of her headquarters and out into the streets of the city. Hell was always busy, but the afternoons were the worst - everyone tried to do their last errands before nightlife took over Pentagram City and people weren't out for shopping or dinner, but for cheap and easy fucks or fights. A little kid - a cannibal child by the looks of its pitch-black eyes and sharp, pointed teeth - ran into you, preoccupied with its popsicle that looked too much like a tongue for your taste. Its mother, horrified, stammered apologies and pulled it hastily away, eager to get in some distance to you. You smiled at them - it may have looked a little malicious to them, although you meant it as genuine. But you knew she knew you were her. The one they called the Alchemist.

You made your way through the parting crowds, just wandering around. You had nothing to do really, and you generally enjoyed just walking through the city you've come to know for only a year. It didn't take long after your fall to get you the infamous name - Only the Radio Demon Alastor rivaled you in the speed you climbed up in the hierarchy of Hell. Tales were told, some true, some heavily exaggerated, some utterly ridiculous. Have you disintegrated demons into their very elemental parts? Yes you had. Have you taken out a whole district because you were catcalled? Not quite, you did that because those bastards from Mayhem Square decided to raid your laboratory and sprayed very vulgar and disgusting things on the walls after they destroyed your latest experiment. Have you sacrificed your loving family in exchange for the ultimate knowledge in alchemy before you died? Definitely not.

You laughed softly about the rumors. What loving family had been there to sacrifice to begin with? You were a war orphan. Abandoned and alone, only taken into a makeshift home and earning your living by signing up for human experiments when you were old enough to be smarter than just steal from abandoned crops and trash cans. If someone ever wondered if one could inject radioactive waste into a person and what the outcome would be, they would've found their answer in your blood and cells - a pinch of insanity, a lack of empathy and painful hallucinations. In exchange for your years of help and your resilience, you were offered a university tuition. You quickly took to science, studying biology, chemistry and, outside of the curriculum, alchemy. To the very last day, you wished you'd studied physics just to finally figure out the universal gravitation formula.

Your career had ended very shortly after your graduation, when you came back to work in the very same lab you've come to be tortured as a teen. But now you were the one experimenting on desperate souls that no one would miss. The only set rule you wouldn’t deviate on: No experiments on children. One of your subjects, overtaken by the pain your hands caused, had gone mental and stabbed you with the syringe you've used on them. Stabbed you many, many, many times. A fitting death, you thought. Your next time awaking, it wasn't with the sight of the tiled, sterile laboratory, but the busy street you just walked on.

It had been a throwback to your childhood, really. No home, no one you knew, no money. But now you had your power. And OH, what a power it was, effortless and gloriously embedded in your being. Paired with your absence of empathic feelings you quickly gained souls under your belt. Mostly lower-rank and no-name-demons, you left them intact, unless your scientific curiosity got the best of you.

Of course the Radio Demon had sensed the birth of another powerful sinner right below his nose and you had the displeasure to meet him not even a month after arriving. While Carmilla seemed to have the strong aspiration to have you among her fellow Overlords, Alastor's ambition went in a completely different direction. First he wanted to be sly and get you under contract, and when you laughed in his face, well... he wanted to consume you and your power, rip you limb from limb and put an end to your existence.

Alas, you were way too powerful for his liking. The moment his claws sunk into you, the moment he would break a limb and rend flesh, the wound was closed up and the bone repaired. You weren't just good at disintegrating - the principle of equal exchange applied to rearrangement and repair too. His conjured voodoo-minions fell apart into cloth, ash and thread at your will, and his ego took more than just one hit that you resisted, that you held your stance, didn't even move out of his way but buried your feet deeper into the ground with a cold smile on your face - that you were equally as powerful as him. If not a little more. Time and time again your paths crossed. Where Alastor was Entertainment, you were Rationality. Where he was Chaos, you were Order. He was looking for the end of his boredom, you for the ultimate knowledge. His smile a facade to hide his frustrations, your stone cold face a facade to hide the joy you felt with every missed blow from him. You were attracting opposites, the only overlap was your shared egocentrism - You knew he believed himself above you. And he knew you thought the same about yourself to him.

So that's why Carmilla was trying to convince you to join the overpowered. So you would change from an unpredictable threat to those hot-shots into a controllable part of them. What a shame, truly, that power was never something you aimed for. Your only ambition was to further your knowledge about existence, about the nature surrounding you, about yourself. You craved understanding and finding order in the chaos. Especially since Hell was the ultimate chaos.

Your thoughts came to a halt when you suddenly felt a strange sensation. You were just walking past the outskirts of the Cannibal Colony to round (and avoid) the Doomsday District to make your way back home, but now something had drawn your attention. A sixth sense, a force, an itch at the back of your head. Electricity was in the air, and you only had time to rearrange the particles of dust and debris around you into a makeshift shield when a black tentacle burst from the ground and smashed it into pieces. When the cloud of dust around you settled and you coughed, you were met with the sight of Alastor in the middle of the street, his smile as wide as ever.

"Normal people go for a courteous 'Hello', you know.", you stated and straightened yourself.

"Ah, but my darling, you and I both know we are not normal. Or people." Another tentacle darts at you from behind, its tip sharpened like a spear, but you were quick to dodge and let the appendage crash into a digital advertisement for VoxTech newest useless and frivol products. The screen flickered for a moment before returning to its previous content, but the damage was already done - the pole was bent and the screen had a hole in the upper-left corner. You turned back to Alastor, giving him a displeased glare.

"What is your issue with me today? Do I wear the wrong shoes? Maybe my hairdo isn't to your liking? You seem to be a little more... enthusiastic than usual. And not in a good way."

The Radio Demon twists his cane in his hands with a sneer, his burning, narrowed eyes not leaving you as you crossed your arms in boredom and tapped your foot.

"The issue on hand, my dear, is that you encroach onto my territory yet again. How about this: A final fight, you and I. The winner gets to decide if the loser is eaten alive or is granted a merciful death."

"Huh. You sound like you've had a really bad day."

With the flick of your wrist, you rearrange the ground beneath him, shifting solid stone and concrete into sticky bitumen and tar. You can't hide the grin when he struggles to stay upright, his polished shoes glued to the spot, but his smile doesn't falter. If anything, it widens.

"I take this as a yes, then."

Before you can even think of a comeback, your view is obscured by a swarm of his minions. They're coming at you from all sides, claws outstretched and snarling. With a roll of your eyes and a wave of your hand, you let them fall apart into their basic elements, pieces of stained cloths and clouds of foul smelling ashes falling all around you. Alastor's grin is as wide as ever and you see the telltale glow of his power around him - and before you can even blink, he's right in front of you, his shoes still sticking in the viscous black matter where he formerly stood, his claws reaching for your neck, your head. You feel his razor-sharp fingertips scraping the skin of your throat, not deep enough to really do any damage, but still droplets of your neon green blood dripping from the cuts. With a grunt you grab him by the lapels of his coat and throw him over and above your head, and while he flies through the air, his laughter echoes through the streets. He's having fun, you know that. But deep down inside... so are you.

"Your back alley voodoo tricks are getting a bit repetitive, Alastor. At least make it interesting."

He lands a few feet away, gracefully like an antelope on his bare hooves, and the static of his laugh sends shivers down your spine.

"Who am I to deny a dying lady her last wish?"

His shadow detached from his body, the pitch-black entity’s teal grin a stark contrast to his red, glowing eyes, the wickedly growing antlers and his pale skin. The immaterial monster opened its maw wide with a deafening screech, and it shot forward at blinding speed. You finally moved, darting away from the shade as it swished towards you - it almost looked like a morbid ballet as you avoided as much contact with the ground as you were able to, frantically thinking of what his shadows are made of so you could destroy it. He had never stooped down to use it in your fights, and you knew that they had to be more than just abscence of light, as sentient as it was. The basis of Alchemy was simple: You can't form something out of nothing, but if you knew the compounds, you were able to rearrange, dispatch or destroy almost anything. You tried to buy yourself more time to think by another high jump into the air, only to hear Alastors static next to your ear, a hand wrapping around your waist with a grip that was intended to hurt and another on your chin, holding your face in place. Your instincts told you to twist under and out of his grasp, to rearrange your skin into something harder to prevent his claws from tearing into you, but find yourself unable to move. A hiss from below you makes your eyes dart to Alastors shadow - it has your own in an iron grip, holding it hostage in its black claws.

"Is that interesting enough for you, darling?", the demon above you purrs into your ear, but the question was unnecessary, answered in his laughter and his ironclad hold of you, your body pressed against his, arms frozen mid air and useless like a marionette without it's player. His hold around you is painful - it would crush a lesser demon easily, but luckily, you weren't lesser. And you still could, even without the usage of your hands, will your side he pierced with his talons to at least harden enough with the iron you drew from your blood so he couldn't tear you apart that easily.

"It's certainly interesting that you have to resort to gagging my shadow to subdue me."

The words were all but pressed through your gritted teeth. You knew you wouldn't be able to escape at this point. This part of his magic, his shadowmagic, was one of the only things you practically knew nothing about. And lack of knowledge, as usual, meant lack of power. In this case - the power to get out, to flee and regroup.

The touch on your waist disappeared for a second before appearing again, stronger now and accompanied with a pain shooting from where his fingers had dug themselves into the weak metallic coat underneath your skin. You hated the quiet whimper your body unwillingly let out at the sting, reminiscent of the scalpels that were used on you many times, so long ago. He chuckled, deep and guttural right below your ear before leaning his head down to your eye-level.

"Subdue you? Oh, no, no, no my sweet Alchemist. This fight is over, as you are well aware and I'm pleased to say that at last, I am the one victorious. The deal was the choice between eating the other alive or granting a merciful death. I just have yet to decide what option to choose."

He releases his claws from your jaw and rakes his nails down your neck and collarbone, his face inches away from yours, red eyes glowing even brighter and his smile that reached his ears with open delight as his claws tear deeper and deeper into you, his static now drowning out the sounds of your pained gasps as darkness grew from the ground, encasing you.

"I... really hate you, you know?", was the only thing you could bring yourself to hiss. His snicker was dark, malicious and infuriatingly cocky.

"Oh darling. I hate you more." And then it all went dark.

You opened your eyes. A blank, charcoal canvas stretched as far as the eye can see. A monochrome dimension for monochrome creatures. Everything had a certain damp feeling to it - the air, the atmosphere, even your own skin felt slick, damp and oily to the touch. Freezing. Unfamiliar and strange.

"Where are we?"

You still felt Alastor’s long fingers holding you in place, but the pain was gone, replaced by a burning heat where he pressed your back into his chest, a stark contrast to the coldness of the air surrounding you. Clean air. You felt no specs of dirt, dust or carbon on your tongue, the air tasted neutral and smelled void, the flavor almost painful in your throat.

"This, my dear, is a little pocket dimension I've crafted. To be specific - it's the one I've crafted the moment I met you."

Your eyebrows arched up, and his shadow let yours tilt your head just enough so you could see his face and his overly excited grin. His words struck a chord and the penny dropped - He, in his deluded mindset of superiority, had anticipated this day to come ever since your first encounter. This wasn't just a spur of the moment, he had planned this, crafted a punishment for the - to him - inevitable scenario that one day he'd finally get his comeuppance. Where he'd finally beat you. Planned to get you here to destroy you.

"It's not very... showy, considering it's created by Hells Greatest Showman himself." Your voice betrayed you. You wanted to sound bored, neutral, indifferent - but every syllable dripped with hidden defeat. Alastor had purposely created a place that you couldn't decipher, that held nothing you could use to defend yourself.

"Au contraire, darling. I think this is the most appropriate stage for our final performance."

His voice was dark, low, and vibrated from the bottom of his chest. His breath was hot and wet on the nape of your neck and the tips of his fingers on your chin burned. You could feel his excitement reverberating through his body. He was looking forward to this. To eradicate you. You closed your eyes. Rationality told you there was no use in defiance.

"So, Alastor. What's it gonna be? Are you a man of your word or aren't you going to kill me the way you've promised? What was it? Eat me alive or make it a merciful death?", you asked, but the only reply was his grip around you tightening and his teeth sinking into the crook of your neck. It was a pain so sharp and yet so tender that it made you almost moan. A pathetic whimper escaped your throat, and you hated how you could feel his lips on your skin curl into a smirk.

"My poor, little alchemist. I thought you, as a woman of science, knew that one has to define the terms you work with."

His fangs grazed the soft flesh of your neck, his tongue leaving a wet trail along the bite marks they had left. A shiver ran down your spine and your skin broke out in goosebumps. The grip on your jaw tightened and he tilted your head to the side, exposing your throat to him even more.

"Killing is just one mundane interpretation of our deal. There is more than one way to eat you while you breathe, my dear, and as for a merciful death... well..." His hand left your waist, wandered down over your hips to the hem of your pants and slid beneath. "... the meaning of that will depend on how this plays out."

The tips of his claws dragged over your underwear and your back arched, subconsciously pressing yourself against his broad chest as much as his shadow allowed it. He chuckled darkly at the reaction he drew from you, his fingers rubbing your core through the fabric, and your eyes fell shut in furious pleasure. You were unable to stop the whimpers and quiet moans that came from you, and he laughed at every sound he forced from you.

You understood the principles of biology and chemistry enough to understand why your body reacted the way it did to his touch. Hormones released, muscles tensed, senses sharpened, brain focused - and all that with one purpose. Carnality. Sexuality. Lust.

You understood the social components : Alastor, despite his infuriating personality, was a powerful and attractive demon. He was a sight for sore eyes and a feast for the hungry ones - you maybe lacked empathy, but you weren't blind.

What you didn't understand was that, despite your deep dislike you felt for the Radio Demon, despite the many times you've fought each other and how he's tried to erase you multiple times - your emotions were telling you that you craved his touch, wanted what he was threatening to do, what he was implying with his words and emphasizing with his actions, his hands working themselves towards your slicked heat and with his lips still on your throat.

And the worst thing was, he knew.

He could sense it, probably even taste it, in the scent of your arousal and the taste of the sweat on your skin. He could read it in your body language, how you subconsciously tried to move against his fingers, how your body melted into his when his teeth scraped over your collarbone and your breath hitched when he sunk them deep into the soft flesh of your neck once more.

The force behind his jaws was sharp and without any mercy, but it only lasted for a moment until it became deliciously soft and firm, his lips soothing your tormented skin after the beast within had taken its fill of your blood just as he breached the last physical barrier of your underwear and dipped two of his digits into you. He forced a soundless sigh from your lungs with the way his fingertips caressed you, igniting a feeling inside you didn't know you could feel.

The satisfaction you got from giving and receiving physical pleasures up until this point mostly to serve your biological needs, impersonal. The connection that existed between partners was short-lived and never personal, almost medical, with the barest minimum of any physical contact necessary, just enough so the mechanics of your hellish body came to the desired effect of pressure release to let you focus on more important matters.

But with Alastor, with his mouth still feasting on the sensitive, marked flesh at your nape and his dexterous fingers working between your thighs, nothing of what was happening was impersonal. Medical. There was no need - But want. A craving desire that arose like a hot flame deep inside you, making the pleasure you were given intensify and left you almost in a frenzy, to try and get more of it. A feeling almost animalistic, something raw and purely instinctual that you wanted to prolong instead of getting it over with.

There was no logic to the way your body reacted, no formula you could apply to ease your frustration at the way he touched you - he played your body like he knew it by heart, a strange turn of events. While you seemed so illogical in your behavior, he was strangely tactical. You were frantic, he was calculating. Every touch, lick and nibble was done with an intended purpose. And in return your reactions to it were completely without rhyme or reason. You couldn't stop the moans spilling from you as he dragged his long fingers in and out of you in an agonizing speed, the pad of his thumb teasingly rubbing over the little nub hidden between your folds, your hips were moving on their own, in sync with his movements as much as they his shadow's grip on yours granted you.

"I... don't t-think...", you gasped with another cruel flick of his thumb against your sore clit, "...you can c-count that as.. e-eating."

To your frustration his motions did slow down, the thrusts and motions he drew from you fading, the tension within building so painfully inside of you, uncoiling so suddenly just to be denied. His chuckle rumbled in his chest and he retreated his lips and teeth from your throat.

"I'm nothing but a connoisseur, darling - one has to prepare and season his meal properly in order to feast."

The sudden loss of contact made you whine in your throat as his hands withdrew, from your wetness as well as your neck and chin. The air felt even colder against your heated skin now, and you shivered when your limbs suddenly contorted, were rearranged by ghostly hands. From the corners of your eyes you could see Alastors shadow force yours into something of a bridge position, back arched, arms bound over its head and legs spread - and through the unexplainable connection between you both, your body followed, having no other choice but to obey what the immaterial shapes dictated.

Alastor stood aside, waiting, watching intently as your trousers were pulled messily down your legs by invisible claws, revealing the soft skin hidden beneath. They dragged the fabric over the swell of your hips, under your rear and over your thighs. For a few agonizing seconds everything was still, the monochromatic world around you in perfect silence, the only visible life your panting breath and Alastors everlasting static. When the last bit of fabric left your body and you were completely bare, he stepped in between your legs, raking his claws over the inside of your thighs before coming to a rest on your hip bones. He looked smug, he looked manic, and most of all he looked hungry. His tongue swiped his sharp teeth, coating them with thick, dark saliva, and you shuddered with a mixture of humiliation and anticipation alike.

"Well now, I think it's time to dig in, right dear? Especially since the table's so nicely set and all."

The impact of his burning mouth on your dripping sex was beyond the comprehension of words, all your synapsis concentrated at the singular sensation of the demon below you working his jaw with gusto and enthusiasm only a cannibal like him could, teeth and tongue and lips unabashed and unapologetic in their efforts to elicit sounds from you that bordered on the screams he loved to broadcast. You could feel him smiling at each and every breathless moan he wrenched from you, you could feel his cold red eyes burning holes into you as he kept eyeing you from below, tongue buried to the root in you, his claws pressing painfully into your flesh in a vice-like grip, threatening to break and rip at the soft skin when you tried to suppress the mewls in an effort to deny him his self-righteous satisfaction.

"Darling, I know you're normally the one who takes others apart - but I just have to wonder what you will look like undone."

You were pushed even closer, even more at his mercy as he forcefully shoved his face deeper between your legs, his black, twisted antlers piercing into your stomach, leaving dainty puncture wounds that stung and begand to trickle with your blood. Your breathing became more desperate with each minute, more keening and so much harder to keep steady - when one of his dexterous hands joined his mouth between your legs and curled the long digits deep inside you in search for the certain bundle of nerves - located an inch inside the vaginal opening, on the upper vaginal wall - that his skilled tongue had neglected so far. Your mind went blank and your whines became constant, unchecked and vocalized so much louder when he found what so many demons (and humans, if you were honest) thought to be a myth - the Grafenberg spot.

He hummed in self-satisfaction as you moaned shamelessly now as he rubbed and probed, curling, stroking, doing everything at once with his fingers on the spot while his mouth worked at your sensitive clit above, suckling hard, bordering on painful licking and even biting. You struggled in the immaterial grasp of his shadow, wriggling on his mouth, the intense, uncontrollable, uncontrolled and unrivaled sensations sparking from your core leaving you desperate for release, for any kind of relief, the pressure of it building so unbelievably fast in you, his movements, the vibrating static and his quiet laughter sending you towards a feeling that you knew, once experienced, wouldn't leave again. You hated that you loved what he was doing, hated that he was able to do what so many others had failed to, that your mind was consumed by pure, undulated desire for the damn Radio Demon as he - in a twisted sense of your own profession -destroyed and rebuilt you simultaneously with the same kind of unceremoniously fervent frivolity that was oh-so-characteristic for him.

Your eyes fell shut, a vocal and shuddering breath escaping you as you felt your end coming nearer and nearer, every flick of his tongue and every slight graze of his teeth were a thousand-fold amplified and yet purposefully too little to finally grant you the relief you yearned for so badly, to put out the element of fire within that threatened to burn you alive.

"Alastor... Please...", you managed between breaths. The words felt sour and sticky on your tongue, but you knew he was waiting for them. You had never begged for something before. Not for mercy when some of the researchers went over the limits of their set experiments on you. Not for recognition when papers you wrote were released in your colleagues name. Not for your life when the thick needle in the hand of the deranged patient rose to the sky, ready to strike. But for Alastor, you begged.

Your plea earned you a victorious glare and another harsh suck on your swollen nub that made you cry out in pleasure and pain. With a last stroke of his tongue in tandem with his fingers against the exact right spot and a firm flick to your clit, your climax felt like you were falling apart into particles and atoms, crumbling around the mouth of your arch-rival. He had been right. Definition was everything, one of the rare things the Alchemist and the Radio Demon could agree on - He promised death, and that's what he gave you: A metaphorical one, devastating, humiliating and everything but merciful. Each spasm was a shovel burying your pride, each sob as he licked you through the ebbing waves of your high a eulogy for the respect you had for yourself. But this death, as disgraceful as it was, was pure bliss, was what ascencion must feel like.

Your body was slowly released from its restraints, feeling heavier than it should as you were dropped unceremoniously to the ground, and you closed your eyes again, feeling oddly empty when he removed his mouth and fingers and stood up to his full height, towering above you. You didn't even struggle even though your limbs were free now, just sighed and turned your head to look up and face Alastor as you heard the clicks of his heels next to your face.

He looked disheveled and wild - a mess of tousled red hair entangled in sharp antlers and sticking messily onto his sweaty forehead, the corners of his mouth glistening with your fluids and his blackened eyes alight with mischief. You could see the outlines of a massive erection through his strained pants, a small consolation that the ordeal he had put you both through hadn't been above his biology too. But before you wasn't the jovial trickster that all of Pride knew and feared, and it wasn't the tactical torturer that had worked you over the edge of your emotions either. This was the animal, the demon within, the monster hell made out of a man in its essence - limbs cracked and elongated, spine twisted and curved, aura dark and almost glowing in green. And it was stunningly beautiful. It was such an incongruous appearance, contrasting his normally smooth, proper and almost human demeanor so much that it might become your new definition of a paradox.

His hand suddenly went behind your head and roughly grabbed you by your hair and dragged your head up, just enough so he could bend on his waist to be on eye-level with you. It stung beautifully at the roots, and you hissed at the delicious pain as you met his gaze.

"Th͑an͊k y͈͝o͔̲͒u̧ͥ f̌͌or̬ t̜ͦhe̬ͯͅ m͉̋ȩ̞͙al,͍ l̵̅͝it͓͙ͤt͘lè̍ A̰̞l̇c̭̙̕h̏̒emis̏͑t."

His voice was distorted and thick, it sounded sticky and heavy and even unhinged. For a moment, you saw his wish to bite you, to tear into your jugular and finally dismember you reflected in his ticking eyes. And in that moment, defying all logic and instincts, you would’ve let him do it. But the strike didn’t come, and the moment faded, along with his monstrous form. He shifted back to the demon you knew, hair still out of place but expression a mask again, a play, a facade. But there was a strange conflict behind his smile, a weird furrow in his cocked brows.

“I believe with that the deal is fulfilled.”

Alastor snapped his hands, and you fell, through darkness and light, fire and water and earth and wind swirling around you until you hit concrete ground. Quickly stumbling to your feet, you blinked. You were dressed again, back in Pentagram City, back at the exact spot where you turned the corner just before...

You whipped your head around, but the Radio Demon was nowhere to be found. The street before you was empty, car horns and gunshots and bomb explosions filling the air coming from the Doomsday District. For a moment you panicked - had it been just another one of your hallucinations? You thought you had left this special side effect of your brain behind in the living world, but you were smart enough to consider the chances of possibility. It would explain everything. Your hand snapped to your neck - no lacerations, no bite marks. Contradictory evidence. It didn’t mean that it hadn’t happened, but it increased the likelihood of the perceived experience being just your brain playing its cruel tricks on you. Just like it did now, flooding your nerves with a faint feeling of... disappointment.

You shook your head and sighed, turning on your heels to continue your walk home. When you put your hands in the pockets of your lab coat, a wrinkled piece of paper brushed your palm. Confused, you pulled it out and unfolded it, your eyes widening as you read it with a gasp that got stuck halfway in your throat.

Until next time, my dear. And if you ever crave more, there is always a table set for you. A.

It read in an obnoxiously neat, cursive handwriting. In a hue of crimson red.

#hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel #alastor #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel fanfiction #reader x hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel smut #alastor smut

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selenezq · 2 months

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commission

#Hazbin Hotel #Hazbin Hotel Alastor #Alastor #Hazbin Hotel Fanart #alastor fanart #alastor the radio demon fanart

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selenezq · 2 months

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dearest

( ref: ohmy.zigi on instagram )

#hazbin art #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel fan art #fanart #alastor #alastor the radio demon #hazbin alastor #the radio demon

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selenezq · 2 months

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I finally cleaned this one

#alastor x reader #alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #fanart #alastor the radio demon

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selenezq · 2 months

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My friend is such a good writer 🥵🥵

𝒴𝑜𝓊 𝒞𝒶𝓃'𝓉 𝒪𝓊𝓉𝓇𝓊𝓃 𝑀𝑒

A commission I wrote for my friend @selenezq in which her OC Emma tried to run away from Alastor, and it didn't quite go as planned!

TW: Dub-con, possessive!Alastor, dark themes.

Alastor sat on his armchair in his bedroom, one leg crossed over the other while he held the newspaper open across his lap. He didn’t look up as he heard his door slam open, turning the page in a languid manner. He heard a gentle grunt as his favourite Morningstar was forced to her knees by his shadow—he only wished he could understand why she insisted on misbehaving when she already had all his attention. What else could she possibly need?

“I do believe we made an agreement of sorts, dearest.” He sighed. “If I recall correctly, you begged me for eternity. Were you under the impression I am a liar—perhaps you thought I was a man who does not keep his word?”

“I didn’t expect—”

He slammed the newspaper down on the side table beside him, leaning forward as his eyes glowed a bright red—an ominous glow compared to her brilliant shine. “I am well aware of your station and the privileges you possess. Do you think me a stupid man, princess?”

He spat the title at her, as if it were an insult rather than her birthright as the devil’s daughter. Her eyes narrowed, a bitter barb ready on her tongue, even as her bottom lip wobbled but he wasn’t going to give her the time to let the words form. “I am more than aware that your parents have done a poor job of teaching you what commitment means, so I’m going to show you. I will teach you this lesson as many times as I need to until you understand what it means to be mine. I am not one of your witless little boyfriends lapping at your feet for just a scrap of your attention, Emma Morningstar, and I am not your spineless father willing to let you walk all over me. There are rules and you will abide by them.”

His shadow released her hair, disappearing into the shadows as tentacles rose from the ground beneath her, wrapping tightly around her ankles and wrists to drag her onto the ground. “It seems there are people in your life who have led you to believe that you do not matter, that you’re not worth chasing after, and that is the only reason I will go easy on you, my pretty diamond. This is the only time I will do so; if you make this mistake again, the consequences will be far more dire.”

Alastor stood up, taking the dainty crown off her head and placing it on the ground in front of her. She looked up, confusion in her eyes and he kicked it, watching as it rolled away from her with a cruel smile on his face. She was such a pretty little thing, dressed in a short red dress with lace trimmings up the side. Her pretty tits were almost hanging out from her position on her knees, and her skirt was riding up her ass, not enough material to keep her covered and he tutted. “Lesson one, my little pet. I am inescapable, unavoidable and inevitable. There is no living without me, my love, I will not allow it.”

The tentacles wrapped around her ankles pulled harshly, pulling her legs open to reveal the scarlet red thong that was doing a terrible job of covering anything.

“Alastor, stop it.” She commanded, finally finding her words and he looked down at her with a raised eyebrow.

“No, I don’t think I will.” He told her tersely, another tentacle rising from the ground beneath her. It was far thick than the rest, and it pressed against her clothed cunt. He watched with smug amusement as she began to rock her hips against it, riding the length of the thick appendage. “You have your safe word pet, and I will respect it, but know you will be punished regardless. You’ll enjoy this a lot more than what I originally had planned for you.”

“What were you going to do to me?” She asked, tilting her head as a blush began to spread across her face but she was smiling as she pleasured herself using his tentacles—his beautiful little attention whore.

He crouched in front of her, gripping her jaw as he forced her to look deep into his eyes. “I considered breaking every single one of your dainty little bones, my love. I would chain you to my bed, and I’d be terribly slow, make sure you thanked me for every delightful crack until you were a broken mess, my perfect toy, and do you know what I love most about you, dearest? I’ve put the idea in your mind now and before long you’ll beg for exactly that.”

He dropped her jaw, enjoying the way she poked out her little tongue to lick her plump lips that were just designed for his cock. “But I promised to go easy on you—just this once—so instead we’re going to play a game! You like games, don’t you, dearest? Here’s how to play: you’re going to let me use your perfect little body, stuff it so full of me that you don’t even remember what it felt like to be empty and be grateful.”

“How do I win?” She asked, raising an eyebrow and he laughed.

He unzipped his trousers, pulling out his thick, heavy cock. He gripped her hair tightly, tugging her head back as he pressed the head of his cock against her lip. She opened easily—so fucking eager for him—and he thrust forward, forcing her to take him all the way to the base.

“You don’t.” He growled.

She looked up with wide panicked eyes, her hands pressed flat into the floor as the tentacles kept them in place, drool beginning to pool at the corner of her lips as she gagged around him. He peered over her arched back where he saw that thick tentacle pressing against the entrance to her dripping cunt. “That looks like it’s going to hurt, pet.” He chuckled darkly.

He pulled his cock all the way out, slapping her face with it as she panted for air. He wanted to hear her scream, hear her cry as she forced open. She let out a confused whine before suddenly she was screaming, lowering her back as she pushed her hips in the air. She tried to crawl forward, to escape the thick intrusion, but the tentacles held her in place. “Alastor, please, it hurts.”

“I’m going to release your wrists, dearest, and you’re going to use them to spread yourself wide for me. Do not disobey me; you will not like the consequences.” He growled at her.

The tentacles released her and he gripped her hair tighter, holding her up while she reached behind her, spreading her fat ass so the tentacles could push deeper. She looked up as tears began to flow and he could feel himself getting impossibly harder in her mouth. “How many do you think I can fit inside you, pet? How many do you think I can force your tiny body to take?” He growled low, as another thick tentacle rose from the ground, pushing at her sopping wet hole.

He groaned loudly as she cried out around him, sharp nails digging into her own beautiful flesh as she tried to stretch herself wide, tried to accommodate for the girth inside her. “You’re beautiful, look at you—have I been neglecting you, pet? Do you need more attention?”

She whined, trying to shake her head but he held her still. He thrust into her slow, dragging his cock along her tongue while the tentacles pounded deep inside her, stretching her wide. He let out a low growl as he pushed his cock down to the back of her throat, feeling her throat convulse around him as he pushed further still. “As if I’d ever let you escape me, my pretty little jewel.”

The two tentacles inside of her pushed against the sides of her walls, stretching her wide so a third one could wiggle in between them. She let out a scream around his cock, and he groaned—she had no business feeling so good around his cock.

“That’s it, take it all for me.” He growled low, and she looked up at him; her beautiful ruby-red eyes rolling back as she struggled to keep her gaze secured on his form.

He pulled out, resting his cock on top of her nose. Drool and pre-cum dribbled down her face as she gasped desperately for air. “Alastor—Alastor—I need—can't—”

“Poor little princess, do you need to cum? Do you need to cum while I use your tiny cunt for my own amusement?” He teased and she nodded her head.

“Alastor, please.” She begged, her tongue lolling out of her mouth as she looked up with those pretty eyes and there was a part of him that was angry about that.

Perfect little fucking pretty slut who had her claws piercing deep into his very soul. She could never know how desperate he was for her, how far he'd go to keep her.

He walked around her, crouching by her side and he whistled when he saw her stretched-out cunt. “Perfect, my perfect pet.”

He reached underneath her, pressing a finger against her soaked cunt and trailing it up slowly to her clit. She bucked her hips against him as he did so, crying out as cum dribbled out of her pretty pussy.

“Who do you belong to, princess? Who owns you?” He growled as he rubbed aggressively—angrily—against her bundle of nerves.

“Yours! I'm yours. I belong to you. Fuck, please.” She cried, and then she screamed as she fell onto her face.

She dropped her hands, claws scratching along his wooden floorboards as she screamed. Her entire body shook, beautiful squelching sounds filling the room as her body tightened around the tentacles stretching her so wide.

As her body stopped and she slumped against floor, her hips high in the air; he found himself smiling. The tentacles slowly pulled out of her and she whimpered at the loss before he pressed the head of his cock at her abused entrance.

“I will say this once.” He growled, and she made a sound of confusion, rocking her hips back, trying to get him to fuck her again but he refused to fill her again—not yet. “You—Are—MINE.”

He punctuated each word with a thrust deep inside her and she wailed, pushing her hips up as high as she could as the tentacles pulled her ankles apart, splitting her in two in more ways than one. “Yes—yes—yours—yours!” She agreed, panting loudly as she cried out.

He wrapped both his hands around her waist, sharp claws digging into delicate skin and piercing through her until she bled. She cried out in pain, whimpering as he thrust deeper and deeper. He needed to be so deep that she would spend days feeling his absence, that she would never again consider leaving him—he would never allow her to leave him again.

He grabbed her perfect blonde hair, yanking it back and forcing her to allow him to hold all of the weight. She moaned as he pushed himself deeper inside of her, her weight forcing him deeper inside and he growled against the skin of her neck. “If you ever fucking think about leaving me again Emma, I’ll kill you. Do you understand me? I’ll fucking kill you, and I’ll still keep your body, because you’re mine.”

He bit down into her neck while she screamed, pretty tears falling down her face and he grunted as he filled her with thick ropes of cum. He felt his knot expand and chuckled as he watched her try to crawl away, try to escape him, but he would never allow such a thing.

“Too much—too big—Alastor—no—” She whined, but he held her tight against him, gently rocking his hips into her own as he filled her perfectly—they fit together like a filthy puzzle.

“Whoops.” He chuckled, as the tentacles rescinded back into the shadows and he held her against his lap. He’d keep her for hours just like this, his fucked out filthy little whore trapped on his knot and then when it went down he’d do it all over again. He’d fuck her like this until she learnt her lesson, until she understood they were inevitable.

#hazbin alastor #alastor x oc #original character #dubious consent #possessive!Alastor #dark themes #alastor smut #hazbin hotel smut

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selenezq · 2 months

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🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞MDNI🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞

I'm starting a taglist master post, so it's easier for me to keep track of everyone and make sure no one gets left out when I post. Comment below if you'd like to be added to the taglist for when I post new Alastor smut. 🥰

Taglist:

@cosmiccandydreamer @alastorthirsty @ari-hatake15 @xalygatorx @rapturenyx @sillybillylamb @whatswrongwithblue @home-for-wayward-fawns @darling-dovey @mo-0-o @sirens-and-moonflowers @smoky000 @jeannyjaykaydeh @gamerxpfighter @yui-onnero

#masterlist #tag post #alastor #hazbin hotel #alastor the radio demon #hazbin alastor #alastor x reader #alastor x you #hazbin hotel alastor

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selenezq · 2 months

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🥵🥵🥵

That was so good

[ Featured Artwork © lustylita ] ❀ [ Featured Divider © cafekitsune ]

[ Story © synamartia ] ❀ [ Text banner created via TextStudio ]

Content Warnings: Alastor x Reader ; Afab!Reader ; No pronouns or Y/N used ; Use of gendered pet names like "good/dirty girl" ; Explicit / MDNI / 18+ ; Sexual situations ; Sex pollen trope (Love Potion) ; Oral (m + f receiving) ; Spanking ; Dirty talk ; Praise kink ; Dom!Alastor ; Dacryphilia ; If I missed any, let me know! Word Count: 6,183 Summoning: @hazelfoureyes ; @minkdelovely ; @sugoi-writes ; @fraugwinska ; @lustylita Author's Notes: Ya'll ready for this? don't lie now Alastor's dialogue will be in bold red, thoughts in italics red, and Reader's will be in blue. Tagging my darling moots and the lovely Kat for allowing me to use her art for a series banner~! If you would like to be added to or removed from the tag list, let me know via ask! And thank you again to Mink and Danny for helping me nail down Alastor's dialogue! You're the best! ❤

You weren't sure how you ended up here - bent over the large desk in Alastor's bedroom, but you weren't particularly worried about the circumstances surrounding your... situation. You could vaguely recall speaking with the Radio Demon about an issue regarding one of the many drug stashes belonging to Angel and what exactly each piece of paraphernalia could be - specifically, what the small spray bottle filled with a pink liquid might have been. Had you known it was an aerosolized product of Love Potion by the Vees, you never would have sprayed it on Alastor - having mistaken it for one of Angel's various colognes.

At first, the man who towered over not only you, but the entirety of the hotel staff had been upset with you, ready to give you a proper tongue-lashing for your carelessness. However, that was before the potion took effect- his original intentions went right out the window the moment it did. You had to hand it to the Vees; it only took 7.8 seconds for Alastor's pupils to dilate and his ears to flatten against his head as the drug took hold of his senses. Alastor barely held on to his sanity the second the drug went into effect - it took every single fiber of his being, every ounce of self-control to stop himself from tearing at your clothes and having his way with you right then and there. Had it not been for the distant murmurs and subtle hisses at the nearby bar, he would have. But he wouldn't subject you to such ignominy, no matter how inebriated by that god-awful concoction he was. Alastor was, first and foremost, a gentleman.

Alastor leaned in close - his face mere inches from yours, a frenzied look in his half-lidded eyes as he inhaled the distinctive spicy aroma that your minty toothpaste had given your breath. He'd rather not waste any time talking, but the one thing that horrible, awful, wonderful drug couldn't override in his brain was the innate, inherent need for consent in such acts. He could only hope you would have some mercy on the few remaining ribbons of his tattered soul and provide him with the only word he wanted to hear - yes. "I- ... I'm so sorry, Alastor- ... S-sir! I mean, M- ... Mister Alastor! I thought it was just a... a cologne..." You started - at first mistaking the look of lust in his eyes for one of malicious and sadistic intent. You had heard the rumors (who hadn't?). So when you noticed his wraithlike shadows swirling around your form and felt one of his tentacles wrap around both of your ankles, you immediately thought that you were about to be the next voice heard on his radio broadcast.

"It seems this... cologne..." you heard his voice ring out as your world went black for a few moments - the caliginous haze having engulfed both of your forms. You felt a slight breeze with how fast the darkness transported Alastor and you from the foyer up the grand flight of stairs and down the halls. At first, you had assumed he was taking you to his studio to broadcast your screams of agony for all of hell to hear. However, you were pleasantly surprised when the smoky substance dissipated, and you found yourself in the safe confines of Alastor's bedroom. "... is an aphrodisiac so potent that it's affecting even me," he said, having remained in the same bent position as he began to size you up.

"I- ... I know. I realized too late," your voice trembled as you stared back at him, fidgeting with your nails nervously. "I'm so sorry, Alastor - I'll be more caref- ...?!" The deer demon pressed a singular clawed digit against your lips to prevent you from any further stammering, shushing you as his eyes traveled down to the valley between your breasts.

"If you're truly apologetic, why don't you show me, hm?" he asked you smugly, pointed teeth parting for a moment to pull his bottom lip between them. He bit down lightly, waiting for your consent as patiently as he could manage. He refused to touch you any further until you had given him the go-ahead; he was a demon, sure - a pretty damn bad one, at that. But this was one thing he would never forego. "Will you help me through this high? After all, you are the one at fault here." You could've sworn your head was about to explode from all the blood rushing to your cheeks at that exact moment. Did he just ask you that? There's no way Alastor - one of the most feared Overlords to have ever walked the scorched wasteland of hell in recent memory; the one that broadcasts the screams of the souls that he eviscerates and atomizes for miniscule slights; the demon that has made friends with an entire town of cannibals (except one - ugh, Susan) and has brunch with their Overlord every Thursday; the man that is unapologetically contumelious and has brazenly challenged the king of hell; THE GODDAMN RADIO DEMON - is shamelessly asking if you would let him fuck you... right?

This had to be dream or an illusion of some sort. Yeah, that had to be it. But, in all honesty, it would be a lie if you said you hadn't thought about any of this - about how his lips tasted; what his nails would feel like being raked up and down your back; how far down your throat you could take him; the sweet, sweet sting of his cock stretching your walls open; or what it would feel like to have rope after rope of his hot seed spurting inside you during his climax. You wondered if he was vocal during sex, and what he would sound like while he chased that rarely sought-after release. Would it just be whimpers and sighs, or would he say the filthiest of words while he rammed his shaft into you with reckless abandon? You assumed the latter since Alastor loved to talk; to hear himself talk - you hoped he would whisper all the ways he wanted to defile you right before doing just that.

Alastor tugged your bottom lip down to reveal your bottom row of teeth as you stared at him in both bewilderment and awe, your brain struggling to process this whole exchange. After a few more moments of silence passed, you shifted your gaze down his torso to the already prominent, still-growing tent within his trousers. Using the same clawed hand that had pulled down your lip, Alastor lifted your chin so that you were forced to look him in the eye.

"Do you want this? I need an answer, Mon Ami. Now."

Having been pulled out of your dazed imagination, you took one more moment to compose yourself before responding. With a frantic nod of agreement, you threw caution to the wind as Alastor's eyes took on a subtle glow, causing your heart to race at from just the idea of sleeping with him.

C'est la vie, right?

He didn't allow you much time to think after that, immediately leaning down so that he could wrap his hands around the backsides of your thighs and hoist you up so that you were at eye-level with him. With a couple long strides, you found yourself being set down on the desk. Easing your legs apart as gently as he could, Alastor stepped between them and brought his hands up to the button-down shirt you wore, the fine layer of sweat resulting from your earlier fear of disembowelment causing patches of the white fabric to become translucent. In one swift motion, all the buttons went flying across the room as he ripped it open, exposing the black lace bra you wore beneath it. He looked like a man starved by the way his predatory gaze traveled over your half-nude form.

Your heart was pounding in your ears as you still struggled to make sense of everything that's happened so far, the anticipation of whatever else may come consuming you. Hands shaking and breath rapid, you nervously brought your hands to the black bow tie wrapped beneath the lapels of his crimson dress shirt, your trembling fingers having difficulty in undoing the knot at first. You noticed the subtle flinch and how Alastor tensed when you finally managed to get the tie undone, quickly moving your hands south to undo the buttons of his suit jacket. Inebriated or not, Alastor still struggled with any physical contact that wasn't strictly on his terms. In an attempt to ease his discomfort, you pulled your hands away and looked him in the eye. "Is it okay if I touch you?" you asked him. A moment passed, and then another; then he nodded his head, granting you permission to slide his coat off his shoulders and down his arms to fall to the floor.

Eyes locked with his, you could tell he was still a little tense; so, you took things a bit further in the hopes of calming his nerves. "I'm going to unbutton your shirt now. Is that okay?" you announced, awaiting his approval once more before you continued to undress him. With another nod, Alastor let out a barely audible sigh when he felt a sudden rush of cool air on his torso a few seconds later - his shirt now being untucked and fully unbuttoned. You took a moment to take in this rare sight: Alastor's clothes disheveled and chest bare, eyes frenzied as he began to relax into your touch little by little. The tips of your fingers traced the outlines of his toned pecs down the center line of his abs and along the few tufts of cherry red hair that were the beginnings of a happy trail (fuck, now you owed $10 to Angel) - and then back up again to his broad shoulders. Alastor practically ripped the cufflinks from his wrists, a shiver running up his spine as you moved your hands past the lapels of his shirt, pushing the fabric off in the same manner as his suit coat.

With his upper garments now pooled at his feet, Alastor let one of his arms wrap around your waist and pull you to the edge of his desk - his groin coming into contact with yours. You held his gaze as one of your hands came up to wrap around the back of his neck, your other going behind you to help support your weight as you began to shallowly roll your hips against his clothed length. A soft moan escaped your throat at the friction you created, causing Alastor's muscles to tense, his spine going rigid beneath your touch. "... Do that again," he commanded you, his cock twitching within the painfully restricting confines of his trousers. He hadn't expected such a simple noise to have this profound of an effect on him physically. "Make that noise again," he rasped, pushing his hips further into you as his other hand pushed your pencil skirt up to reveal your undergarments.

"Hhhmmm... Alastor," you obliged, adding his name in a husky whisper as you rolled your hips against his once more. Alastor growled in response just before crashing his lips down on yours, swallowing the moans that were pouring from your throat. How has he never noticed the ethereal way his name sounded rolling off your tongue until now? He wondered what it would sound like being screamed so loud, that dick Lucifer could hear it all the way up on his 'holier than thou' high horse throne. You inhaled sharply through your nose as you felt a claw tug and then eventually tear at your matching black lace panties (he was SO buying you a new set; this was your favorite pair, damn it!), your skirt now bunched up at your waist, leaning your lower half completely bare.

Breaking the kiss, you pulled back just enough to see Alastor's face - eyes half-lidded, the corners of his mouth twitching upward, a thin layer of sweat accumulating on his face and torso from the prolonged proximity. "Alastor..." you whispered his name again and his cock twitched again against the now much too uncomfortable fabric. You moved to sit up straight, bringing both of your hands to the buckle of his belt, stilling them as you opened your mouth to ask if he would let you continue. Before you could even form the question, Alastor was already granting you permission to free it from the agonizing confines of his pants with a feverishly desperate nod; his free hand maneuvering between your bodies to stroke a solitary digit through your folds. "My, my," he chuckled, voice teasing as he pushed his finger past the first ring of muscle of your embarrassingly slick entrance. "We've only just started, and you're already this aroused?" he clicked his tongue against his teeth as he teased you, deriving pleasure and amusement from the pout you gave in response.

"Dirty girl."

"I- ... It's your fault," you chided him, throwing his earlier statement back in his face. "You're the one to blame. So, are you going to help me or not?" you asked him in a mocking tone of voice, sticking your tongue out in the process. Alastor leaned in closer to your face - pretending to go for another kiss, only to lightly sink his teeth into the tip of your tongue and pull it further out of your mouth. "A-ah!" you yelped in surprise just before he wrapped his lips around the already sore muscle, sucking gently to ease the pain for a few moments. When he pulled away, he gave you a playful wink just before adding a second digit to your heated core. "I suppose I could help you," Alastor teased you right back, slowly pumping his digits in and out, careful not to hurt you with the sharpened edges of his nails.

"... But I want to hear you beg for it first."

Before you could react, Alastor pulled himself free of you and yanked you to your feet; spinning you around and forcing you to bend over the edge of his desk with his slender fingers wrapped around the back of your neck - keeping you in place. He used his other hand to wrangle both of yours, holding them together at the wrist and pressing them into the small of your back as he kicked your feet apart.

So now, here you were - bent over the smooth surface of his desk; trapped, exposed, and completely helpless.

"Come now, Mon Cher. Let me hear you beg me to fuck you," Alastor commanded you, releasing your neck and bringing that same hand down to spank against the bare skin of your ass. A yelp escaped your lips at the sudden sting of his palm striking your rear, your cheek pressed against the cool wood as you tried to angle your head just right to look back at him. Chewing on your bottom lip as you contemplated his command, you were trying to decide which route was more beneficial: compliance or defiance.

Another slap resounded throughout the room when Alastor struck your bottom again, harder this time as a warning to make up your mind quickly. Deciding that compliance would get you to that first release faster (albeit less fun), you opened your mouth to acquiesce. "P-Please!" you started, "... please, Alastor... I need you..." you whispered shyly, the words somehow making your face heat up even more. But it wasn't good enough, since Alastor smacked your ass again. "You can do better than that," he stated matter-of-factly, rubbing the palm of his hand against the reddened skin where he had struck you. Biting your lip again, you closed your eyes and tried to muster up the courage to say out loud all the thoughts running through your dirty little mind. You hoped no one was nearby to hear any of this (not that Alastor would let them live for very long if they did hear your escapades). Swallowing the saliva that was building up in your mouth, you let out a shaky breath before opening your eyes and craning your neck further back to look at Alastor again.

"Please! Please, please, PLEASE fuck me, Alastor ...! I need it so bad! I wanna feel your cock in me, please! I promise, I'll be good!" you started out, your face now rivaling Alastor's ruby hair in terms of color. "I'll be good, I swear!" you tried to wiggle your hips against his still clothed cock (having only succeeded in undoing the belt buckle and zipper before he whipped you around), only to feel another harsh slap to your ass, warning you to behave. "Please just fuck me- ...! Make me cum on your cock. I wanna cum on your cock! Alastor..." you whimpered, earning a short chuckle from him in response as he slowly began to grind against your backside, providing you with some much needed friction. "Good girl," he murmured while rubbing soothing circles on the red imprint of his hand forming on your ass cheek. Leaning over you so that his lips were right by the edge of your jaw, he let his tongue roll out and run along the length of it until he came to your ear, sharp teeth nibbling at the sensitive lobe.

"Une si bonne fille pour moi."

Alastor stood up straight once again and moved his hand between your bodies, opting to push three of his long digits into your waiting heat this time. He relished in the surprised gasp that escaped you followed by a prolonged moan, curling his fingers slightly as he started to build a pace. "A-Alasss- ...!" you tried to say his name, but the angle that his fingers were pushing in and out of you had you seeing stars even though he had just barely started, his knuckles rubbing against that one spot you always had trouble reaching with your own hand. You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth, your walls clenching around his fingers when you felt his thumb press against your puckered hole. Letting go of your wrists, Alastor brought his now free hand down to grab at your ass and spread your cheeks apart to get a better look; he prodded gently but never pushed past the first ring of muscle. He wanted to but felt it could wait for another time - IF there was another time after this. He didn't want to push your boundaries too far for the first time around.

"Oh, fuuucckk!" you drawled out, eyes fluttering closed as that oh-so-familiar coil began to tighten in your lower abdomen. "That's it, good girl," you heard him praise you, his words causing your muscles to tense further as he pushed you closer and closer to the precipice of ecstasy. Your hips began to roll involuntarily against his hand after a few minutes, your body automatically seeking that sweet, sweet release even faster. "Just like that, ride my fingers just like that," he whispered, the praises he was singing to you making your walls clamp down on his digits even tighter. "O-oh fuck! Ala- ... Alastor! Fuck, fuck, I'm gonna cum, oh my god!" you cried, your eyes rolling into the back of your head, hands holding a death grip on the edge of his desk.

When you felt Alastor shifting behind you, you opened your eyes and lifted your head slightly to see what he was doing - quickly finding him on his knees and moving in until his mouth replaced his fingers. Alastor let out a loud groan once he finally had a taste of you, tongue rolling out and through your slick folds, drinking in your essence like you were an oasis in the middle of the Sahara Desert. His left hand held your cheeks apart as Alastor licked and slurped and sucked, shaking his head back and forth against your core every few seconds. The tip of his nose tickled your other hole while he used his right hand to rub circles on your clit, his long tongue rolling over your g-spot whenver he would dip it inside you. You could feel your release coming at you like a freight train now, one of your hands shooting back to grab hold of something - his hair, his antlers, anything in an attempt to ground yourself. "Good girl!" his words were muffled as he kept his face pressed against your core, lifting your leg to rest on the desk before returning it to your clit, pressing down harshly on the bundle of nerves.

A loud groan rumbled through his chest as you squeezed the base of his antler, the action causing his cock to twitch and throb, begging to be released from its confines and satiated. "Don't stop, please don't stop!" you begged, your jaw falling open into a silent cry as your release began to crash over you like a tsunami. Alastor drank you in, slurping loudly at the fluids that dripped from your tight cunt, savoring your taste while he struggled to not blow his load before he even had a chance to get inside you. He pressed his face even further against your core, mouth open wide as he swallowed everything your body had to give him. How long had it been since he felt this thirsty - this starved for someone else's touch? Alastor couldn't remember the last time he was this aroused, this fucking hard. What the fuck did the Vees put in that troublesome potion?

As the pleasure coursing through your veins began to subside, your muscles relaxed and your grip on his antler loosened, occasionally tensing once more whenever you felt the tip of his tongue on your throbbing clit or the sharp edge of his teeth glide against your puffy lips. You lowered your head to rest on the polished surface, trying to catch your breath as Alastor pulled back from your heat - enjoying the way your pussy would clench around nothing when he lightly raked his claws over your reddened ass cheek. Picking up his forgotten shirt from before, Alastor used the fabric to wipe what was left of your release from his chin, discarding it after as he rose to his feet. "You did so well for me," he praised you, reaching to tuck a strand of loose hair behind your ear. Leaning over your slumped form he let his lips brush against your jaw, then your cheek and then your temple. "Hmm..." you hummed in response, trying not to let the fatigue take over before you could get to the main course. "Do you need a moment? Would you like to stop?" Alastor asked you, taking notice of your display of exhaustion.

Quickly, you turned your head and pushed yourself up. "No! No, I can-" you paused for a moment to stifle a yawn. The incident in the foyer that led to all of this occurred near the end of your workday, so you were fairly tired when this started. The unexpectedly hard orgasm wasn't helping any, but the promise of even more is what kept you going. Besides, you couldn't be the only one having fun here, especially since you had already agreed to help relieve him. "... I can keep going. I wanna keep going," you insisted, lowering your leg as you pushed yourself up straight, turning to face him fully now. "For you," you added, staring up at him with a look so amorous it made his breath hitch in his throat, catching him off guard. Cautiously, you raised your hands to gently cradle his face, standing on your tiptoes so you could place a soft peck on his smiling lips.

Bringing yourself back down to stand proper, you began to trace your hands down his neck and chest, not missing the way his muscles still tensed at your touch. It was going to take some time, you realized, to get him to a point where he welcomed your touch rather than shy away from it. You hoped that he would give you that time, outside of this incident that you so clumsily caused, of course. When your hands reached the waistband of his pants, you looked up at him and waited for his permission to continue - something small and near insignificant but nevertheless something he still appreciated. He would have to reward you for your thoughtfulness later. Nodding his head, Alastor watched as you slowly pushed both his trousers and briefs down past his hips to his knees, eventually falling to his ankles, his aching cock springing from its prison and slapping lightly against his lower abdomen. He looked away for a moment, unable to hide his growing discomfort with being so bare in front of another person.

Gently, you pressed on his jaw with your left hand to bring his narrowed eyes back to your face. "Hey," you called. "You can trust me, Alastor," you assured him, knowing full well that was only part of the problem. Mouth twitching, Alastor stared at you as you leaned in to place tender kisses to his chest, your eyes never once leaving his face as you sank down to your knees before him. "I promise," you spoke, voice gentle, hands tracing the defined muscles of his abs and gliding along the dips of his pelvic v. Bringing one hand up to rest on his thigh, your other gently wrapped around the base of his cock. Humming softly as you smiled up at him, you rubbed your cheek against his length, then grazed your lips over his leaking tip. "I just want to make you feel good," you continued to assure him, catching the shaky sigh he gave in response to your touches. Experimentally, you let the tip of your tongue dart past your lips and against his crying slit, his entire body tensing as one of his hands moved to tangle within your tresses.

You stared up at Alastor with such innocence in your big doe eyes - he had to bite the inside of his cheek to stop himself from forcing his cock as far down your throat as it could go. "Is that okay?" you asked after a couple more licks to his slit, savoring the salty taste of his pre dribbling out. "Will you let me make you feel good, Alastor?" you asked him so sweetly, voice dripping with honey as his name rolled off that devilish tongue of yours. You really knew how to push his buttons. With a drawn out moan vibrating through his chest and static crackling through the air, you barely had time to fully open your mouth as he pushed his hips forward and guided your head down until your nose brushed against the carmine strands at his base, his head tilting back at the long anticipated sensation finally washing over him as he breathed out a singular,

"Yes!"

Immediately, you had to fight back the urge to gag and pull away when he pushed your head down. Had it not been for his fingers laced through your hair holding you in place, you would have. You whined at the sudden intrusion, not expecting him to push so much of himself inside your mouth so quickly; his tip nearly hitting the back of your throat. Alastor tried, he truly did, to keep control and allow you some time to adjust, but the explicit desire for release was beginning to cloud his senses now that he had your lips wrapped around his dick. He gave a few shallow thrusts, trying not to go too far before you adjusted to his wide girth. After a few seconds to do just that had passed, you hummed softly as a signal that you were okay to go further now, to pick up the pace - the vibrations sending a couple unexpected shockwaves up his spine. You stared up at him, admiring the way his Adam's apple bobbed slightly when he swallowed hard, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes.

Curling your tongue around his length, you pressed upward as you started to bob your head, sucking lightly and moaning every few seconds to send vibrations through his whole being. "Fuck..." you heard him whisper with each drag of your muscle on the underside of his shaft, keeping one hand wrapped around his base and squeezing lightly the part you were unable to swallow. On occasion, whenever you would pull back far enough, you would angle your head slightly so that his tip would rub against the ridges of your palate upon re-entry, causing him to inhale sharply and clench his hand, tugging on your hair each time.

You could feel his thighs tremble every time you moaned around him, sucking harshly and hollowing your cheeks, pressing your tongue up even harder to create more friction and bring him closer to his orgasm. You slurped and sucked; some drool mixed with precum beginning to froth at the corners of your mouth with each drag. "That's it, that's it," Alastor murmured as he lowered his gaze down onto you. Struggling to keep his release at bay for just a few more minutes, he nearly lost it when he saw that you were still looking up at him with those beautiful wide eyes, tears pricking at the edges and threatening to fall at any moment. "Oh, yes- ... That's my good girl, fuuuccckkk!" he breathed, relishing in the way you tried to breathe through your nose while choking on his cock.

Hearing his moans and praises were such a huge ego boost, so you decided to take it a step further by removing your hand from the base and letting it settle on the side of his thigh. Alastor let out a small grunt of disapproval at the loss of your tight grip and reached to guide your hand back, but he stopped and let his jaw fall open when you pushed yourself further down on his cock, his tip now bullying the back of your throat with each bob of your head, every thrust of his hips. He was so close after only a couple minutes of you sucking him off; he couldn't tell if it was a result of the Love Potion or not being intimate with anyone for a significant amount of time, but he didn't really care. He just knew that his head was going to explode (among other things) if he didn't paint your mouth white and shoot his cum down your throat right fucking now.

You brought your left hand down to cradle his balls and roll them between your fingers, rubbing your thighs together in an attempt to create some much needed friction. Alastor's breathing was becoming heavier and faster with every second that passed, your tongue now moving back and forth in time with each drag; your messy slurping and moans increasing in volume causing him to see stars. "Goddamn... It feels so good!" he whispered, sucking in a breath through clenched teeth as he brought his other hand to nestle in your messy hair along with the other. Alastor was beginning to lose what little control he had left as his thrusts became more frantic, more wild and frenzied. "F-fff... uuuhh-!" he whined loudly, guiding your head down as he pushed up, your nose lightly slamming against his groin as he began to full on face fuck you.

"Fffu- ...! Oh, fuck yes! Fucking- keep going, just like that! Haahhh- ...!"

You were able to breathe through your nose, but not well enough as the edges of your vision began to go dark; your ears being filled with the sloppy 'glug, glug, glug' sound of Alastor ramming his cock in and out of your mouth at a speed you didn't think possible. Clenching your eyes shut as you let him use you to chase after his high, you tried to focus more on staying conscious only to have Alastor roughly tug on your hair, then lightly slap your cheek until you opened them again. You stared up at him with a dazed expression, your eyes teary and brows furrowed as he let one hand travel down to grip your chin. "Don't you dare look away from me!" he demanded, static rippling through the air and lights flickering, his eyes shifting to radio dials and his red sclera turning black, his grip bruising as his pace quickened. "Mm- ... mmpph!" you tried to hum in response, but the sound was swallowed by the other noises he was dragging out of you.

"Is this what you wanted?" Alastor asked as you tried to keep up with his brutal pace, fat tears now rolling down your cheeks as he began to lose himself in the pleasure you offered him. If you could, you would have nodded, but his tight grip on your hair and chin was making it difficult to do anything else except take it. "Is this what you wanted, darling- mmmpph! ... Wanted me to fuck your face like this? Hm? Is this what you fucking wanted?" he groaned loudly as his climax grew closer and closer, his antlers growing longer and his girth increasing in size with each thrust. His brows were knitted together as his nose scrunched slightly, the coil in his lower abdomen tightening to an almost excruciating degree and ready to snap any second, eyes narrowed and pointed teeth grinding together as he sucked in air quickly with each movement. "Do you want it? Take it like a good girl? Hohhh- shit!" You tried to nod once more, but again his bruising digits held your head in place, so you blinked rapidly at him, hoping that he would understand what you were trying to convey.

"That's it, that's it, take it all- Oh, fuck you're so good for me-! F-fuck, I'm cu-!"

A couple more seconds went by and you were barely holding on when you felt his hips stutter and his grip tighten further on your hair. With one final thrust, Alastor was thrown over the edge as the first ropes of his warm seed shot out and down your throat, holding your face flush against his pelvis. He let out a strangled cry of gratification as he held your head in place, your nose buried in the neatly groomed crimson bush at the base of his shaft. He used the hand that had been holding your chin to catch himself on the edge of his desk, his upper body having lurched forward when his orgasm hit, arched over your kneeling form. His abs flexed with every spurt of his cum, every blissful wave that came crashing down on him, his thighs quivering as he tried to remain upright and catch his breath. He was quite vexed, unsure if it was a lack of intimacy or the results of that drug that caused him to experience such an intense release, but he didn't really care to know right now.

"Mmph! Nngghh!" Alastor heard you humming, his entire body twitching from the overstimulating vibrations as you began to frantically tap at his thighs, trying to get him to let go so you could get some much-needed oxygen into your lungs. He pulled your head back by your hair gently and you started to cough and sputter, chest heaving and drool coating your chin. He took several seconds to catch his breath, as did you, before clicking his tongue in mock disapproval at your messy state (as if he wasn't the reason behind it) - his subtle disposition to passive-aggressively disparage all those around him momentarily breaking through this rarely seen state of vulnerability.

You brought your hands to your face, swiping at the tears that spilled from your eyes with one hand while covering your mouth with the other - a sad attempt at stifling your coughing fit. Alastor untangled his fingers from your messy strands and, in an uncharacteristic display of what most would assume is affection, smoothed them out delicately as he reached to take the hand that was wiping away your tears. He pulled you to your feet before waving his hand through the air, a glass of water manifesting a moment later with a puff of green and black smoke. He offered it to you as your coughing subsided, which you gladly accepted.

"Forgive me, darling. It seems I lost myself in the heat of the moment," Alastor apologized, having regained full control of himself now - the only signs of his uncontrolled frenzy being his shirt and coat lying in a heap nearby and his pants and briefs bunched at his ankles. You took a much-needed swig of the water he had given you, only giving him a small smile in response as you reached to rub your sinuses to ease the pain he unintentionally caused. You wondered if it would cause any petechiae bruising later (it would); what with how rough he had been with you. If it did, you assumed Angel would have SOME type of numbing agent for your throat - or, at the very least a concealer if the bruising formed on your face too.

Part Two Coming Soon~!

#hazbin hotel #hazbin #alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor x reader #x reader #alastor smut #hazbin smut #hazbin hotel smut #alastor x reader smut #smut #the radio demon smut

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selenezq · 2 months

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Thank you lovely and talented @hurthermore and @macabr3-barbi3 for tagging me 🥰

Oh, uh that's unexpected hehe.

Tagging @az-roser @hazelfoureyes @redfoxwritesstuff @cosmiccandydreamer

Thanks for the tag @thelastplantagenet 😊💚

1. Do this uquiz.

2. Do this picrew.

3. Tag people.

feel free to play if you’d like :)

@buncha-angry-kids-with-no-money @thatoneandlonelyemo2005 @with-the-words-all-wrong

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selenezq · 2 months

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This was so good!! The way you built the tension was perfection 😍

Hello beautiful! Not only I just discovered your writing and binds read your entire master list … could I request a part 2 from the eye of the storm?

Maybe something like where the reader is worried about Alastor at night and she goes to comfort him. He asks her to tell him a story while she lays beside him but as he falls asleep he ends cuddling? Tysm and please take all the time you need💕💕💕

Your wishes are my command - I strayed a little from your idea, but I hope you'll like it nonetheless! It's angst and fluff, and a little sweet at the end! And of course, it leaves room for a possible (Spicy) Part 3? ;> Who knows?

This is the second part of a Mini-Series. Part 1: The Eye of the Storm is right over here.

Two weeks had passed since the night Alastor's nightmare almost tore the hotel apart. Your wounds, caused by the sharp claws of the demonic form of Alastor, had healed pretty well and were barely noticeable anymore, thanks to dutiful tending of Charlie and Niffty, except for the scar on your hip, still pink and sore. You didn't mind, though. It was a physical memento of a sacrifice made for someone you deeply cared about.

In fact, you had a hard time forgetting that night, because every time you looked at the scar, the image of the Radio Demon, hunched and sobbing on his bed, flashed through your head, and you felt your heart clench. He hadn't spoken much to you since then. He hadn't spoken much to anyone in the hotel, really. You tried to approach him, but he always seemed to find an excuse to get out of a conversation, or leave the room you entered. When you asked him if he was alright, he laughed it off and waved his hand, telling you it was not worth worrying about. You knew him enough by now to know it wasn't true. You also knew him enough to know that if you tried to push him, he'd retreat further.

So, you just observed him from a distance, the way his smile looked tired when he thought no one was looking, the way his laugh seemed hollow, his eyes dim and exhausted. Sometimes you'd catch him blankly staring at the wall or ceiling or a painting on the wall for minutes, before snapping back and continuing whatever task he was supposed to do.

"I'm worried about him, too."

Charlie was sitting beside you on the lounge set in the foyer, both of you nursing a cup of hot cocoa, while Alastor was preparing dinner in the kitchen, humming some melancholic tune that traveled through the closed door. "But I don't know how to help him. He doesn't seem like he's interested in opening up to me or the others, or talk about what happened. It's as if he's just... shut off."

You sighed, sipping from the drink. "Yeah. He's been getting slimmer too, and always looks so... tired."

Charlie nodded, and you exchanged a glance. "Is there any chance that... maybe he would open up to you? You seemed to have a connection to him more than we were ever able to have with him. Maybe it's just wishful thinking, but I can't help but think he'd feel more comfortable around you."

"I tried, Charlie - he just... vanishes, before I can even finish a sentence... he avoids me. It's like he's running from me."

Charlie looked into the bottom of her mug, turning the now empty dish in her hands. "...Well, in times like this, we don't want the help. Especially if our pride is involved." she smiled warmly at you, her usual determination now back in her eyes. "But I know someone who would stop at nothing to help him."

Your footsteps sounded much louder in the silence of the night as you climbed the stairs up to Alastors suite. You glanced at the lights, remembering the green sheen and how the swirling shadows in the dimness had made your skin crawl. But the staircase was dipped in the usual golden light, nothing amiss, nothing scary. There was only a faint sound, almost like a static, hanging in the air. Alastors own wards and spell protecting his space, you were sure. Which left the possibility of him already knowing you were on your way. For a moment you hesitated - was it of use to go to him when he'd possibly already fled to evade you? A few nights ago you might've retreated. But after two weeks of watching your friend suffer, your determination prevailed, and you knocked, firmly and resolutely.

A second of silence. Then another one. You raised your hand to knock again when the door swung open - And Alastor stood before you, his grin in place, yet there was a sense of exhaustion seeping through his mask. He seemed taken off guard, obviously he wasn't expecting someone to come visit him late at night, so your prediction had been proven wrong. It was very rare to see the radio demon in anything else than his usual attire. But he was standing before you now, in a scandalously casual ensemble: A crimson robe over an open collared black pajama shirt showing some of his usually hidden, taupe fur, the silk tie loosely knotted at the waist, black matching trousers and without shoes.

"It's mighty late for a visit, dear." His voice held a sharpness and rough edge. But the tired, dull expression behind the grin was already crumbling when he gazed into your face.

"I wanted to see you. I'd noticed you weren't... doing so good after what happened."

He cast his glance everywhere but to you, avoiding your concerned stare. "I've told you before, your concern is absolutely unnecessary dear, I'm fi-" "Alastor, please." you interrupted, gently taking his wrist into your palm to halt his hand from waving his way out of the conversation. You looked at him, and he tried not to look at you, but slowly, oh so slowly, his gaze slipped back to your face, and his composure visibly started to crumble, his grip on his tactical expression slipping like sand through fingers. "I'm not here to judge you. Or to berate you. I'm worried."

He chuckled bitterly, closing the distance between you as his whole stance now seemed to curl. "Worrying is not necess-" "Probably." you shrugged, your hand sliding from his wrist to his cold fingers. "But friends worry, when they see the person they care about suffer." "Friends are a bother." his eyes flickered. "That's true. And yet they care."

He let his head bow forward, and suddenly he reminded you so much of that dark, trembling creature you found on his bed two weeks ago. You never thought the powerful Radio Demon would allow himself to appear like this in front of someone consciously. But maybe you weren't just someone... to him. The thought made your pulse flutter.

"I find myself unable..." Alastor started, his eyes staring at your intertwined hands. "...to find rest these days. I don't feel the need to sleep as frequently as your fellow residents, but... the incident, the dream, what happened - it seems it has rattled me more than I care to admit. What you did for me and what I did to you in return..." He chuckled, but it sounded much weaker, lacking his usually cheerful mockery as his free hand hovered over the side of your waist where the fresh scar sat under your clothes. "The thought of it being repeated feels unbearable."

"That's why I'm here." You squeezed his hand. "I've seen you at your worst and still came back, because I wanted to tell you that I'm neither weary nor scared. And that you don't have to bear this burden alone, Alastor. Please... let me help you."

The Radio Demon stood still, and for a moment you thought he'd retreat again, but then his shoulders relaxed, and the grin melted into a small, tired smile. His hand tightened on yours and he sighed. "Well then, come inside."

As you stepped into the familiar room, you noticed the difference immediately. The curtains were drawn, the lamps were on and the record player was playing quietly, a melancholic jazz piece filling the silence. Alastor had done his best to keep the memory of that night away by repairing the walls and furniture and replacing the shredded bedding and mattress of his bed with brand new ones. So new in fact, they looked like they were never touched.

"Please, take a seat." he gestured to one of the two wing chairs by his fireplace, now burning in warm oranges and scarlets rather than the eerie green you remembered, and as you settled down he joined you in the other opposite to you. The silence hung between you for a moment, neither of you really knowing what to say next. He was intently watching the flames dancing on the scorched wood, and you studied his profile, the soft, dark fur of his ears, his thin, elegant nose and the deep crease between his eyebrows. You had never seen him lower his guard this much. Well, that wasn't quite true - once, in this very room, although under much different circumstances. You could see his hand, resting on the arm of the chair, twitch as if it were fighting an impulse.

"It's funny, isn't it?" he started, his voice a bit too light. "I'm a powerful entity in hell, able to rip and tear and destroy. A feared, powerful, dangerous overlord. And yet I seem to be rendered helpless by my own mind. Laughable, really."

"I'm not laughing." you said quietly, and his head turned towards you, a raised eyebrow and a hint of amusement in his expression.

"Indeed you are not."

"And I think you are far from helpless." You continued, a small smile appearing on your face as you watched a little flame wind itself from a knothole, gaining volume and fizzing strongly. "I've never met a demon as strong-willed and determined as you, Alastor. I think the reason it has been affecting you so badly, is because you have power over everything else. But when it comes to the things happening inside your own head - when you are asleep - you aren't in control, and that can be terrifying."

His gaze was fixed on your face, the crimson of his irises shimmering and flickering. He looked... intrigued. And, something else. Something softer, that made your heartbeat a little faster.

"You are... a fascinating thing." he hummed, and his fingers started to drum on the armrest, his other hand fidgeting, still fighting that strange, hidden urge. "You seem to... calm me. With your mere presence, it feels... soothing. The thoughts of that night don't vanish, but they lose their grip. Like the tempest in me is being tamed." "Is that a bad thing?" you asked, a bit puzzled, and a bit amused.

"Yes and No." He answered, quickly and without hesitation. "I don't depend on others. It's unreliable. Too many factors are involved, and when you care about someone, it means you leave them with the ability to hurt you." His hand was tapping faster. "That sounds like a lonely existence." "Loneliness is the most reliable thing of them all. But..." he sighs and follows your gaze back to his fireplace. The small flame grew into a strong blaze, swishing and crackling loudly now. "...It is also the most draining. And I have to admit that I'm thoroughly exhausted, dearest."

"I'll stay with you tonight." You whispered, leaning forward and reaching out to take his restless hand. The motion surprised him, his eyes snapping back to you. "If you want to." He stared at your hand on his, the fire reflecting on his ruby eyes, and slowly, the twitching and drumming subsided, and his fingers curled around yours, a small squeeze.

"I believe I'd be glad for the company." he uttered.

For the next half an hour or so, you sat with Alastor in comfortable silence, both of your eyes on the flames and hands still intertwined as the jazz faded into blues, slow, melancholic and calm until the fire died down. Sometimes, his thumb drew little circles on the side of your hand, and you took it as an encouragement. His face was back to its tired state, though he didn't seem quite as guarded and withdrawn anymore. When there was nothing more than faintly glowing logs in the ember bed, you shifted your weight and gave his hand a careful tug. "Do you think it's time?"

He swallowed audibly and his eyes closed. "I suppose so." he smiled tightly, rising and pulling you up with him, and you both walked over to his gigantic bed, draped with fresh crimson sheets and matching duvets, untouched, spotless, pristine. He stopped before the side of the bed and for a few moments - he stared down, his grip on your hand almost painfully tight now. You tilted your head, giving him a reassuring smile.

"If you're uncomfortable about sharing the bed I can pull over one of the chairs, I don't mind..."

"Absolutely not." he turned his head, and you could see how flustered his expression was now. "Ah - I mean... no, dear, that's alright."

You left his side and rounded the bed, lifting the duvet without looking at him as you shuffled out of your slippers. If you were honest, you felt just as awkward as Alastor looked, not to mention nervous and anxious and a lot of other complicated things. But you'd be damned to show that now, and risk him retreating. So you settled in, slipping your legs under the heavy covers. They felt just as comfortable as they looked.

You noticed him hesitating on his side of the bed, unmoving, his hands halted at the knot of his robe. You adamantly looked away from him, overly interested in the obscure knick-knacks that were scattered in the cupboards on the opposite wall - it was clear he was struggling to shed his clothes in front of you, even if it was only an overcoat. You heard an airy, quiet chuckle and fabric rustling, felt the duvet lifting again and then a weight dipped the mattress next to you. You could feel Alastor shifting and settling, could hear the shallow, anxious breaths and were aware that his eyes were burning on the side of your head, and you realized that he, too, was doing a valiant job at keeping his composure. You leaned back into the pillows, then he snapped his fingers and there was silence. And darkness.

At the lack of light in your vision, your senses heightened and you took everything in much more intently. His body heat close, his breathing next to you, his faint scent of smoke and herbs surrounding you. How small the space between your bodies was, the last remaining inch a gaping ravine in your mind. The mattress dipped as his body turned, facing yours and now his eyes were right there, glimmering and deep red in the pitch black darkness, following your every movement as you shifted too. You felt your heart hammering loudly and you could almost hear the blood rushing through your body. And you knew Alastor could hear that. Hear your quickened breathing. Feel the warmth of you just as you felt his.

There was a tense, terrifying moment, stretched endlessly until your eyelids fluttered shut - you heard, as much as you felt, the bed dipping under his shifting body weight, and suddenly, the ravine was filled by him and he was all around you, pulling you in sort of a protective embrace as you were surrounded by his warmth. Your head fell against the base of his throat as he tucked your face into the crook of his neck, a shaky sigh leaving him as he wrapped his limbs around you. The sudden proximity caught you entirely off-guard - you knew Alastor had a deep aversion against close physical contact. The hand holding had been a huge success for you, a sign that his trust for you went beyond the ordinary. You had been fully prepared to honor a discreet distance between you and him as to not make him feel more uncomfortable, but to pull you so close like this, voluntarily at that, initiated by him, made you go rigid in nervousness at how to react to it. You could already feel him retreat, that awkwardness from before already flooding back between you as he felt your body stiffen.

"Aah... my apologies, dear, I didn't mean to get so..."

Your reaction was instant, almost instinctively, body already knowing what your mind still was figuring out. Your hands slid around his slender waist as you pulled yourself closer to him, since you believed actions spoke louder than words to soothe the conflict he was battling. One leg came to rest between his, you felt his hips brushing against yours, and your palm came to rest in between his shoulder blades and you buried your face into the warm fur of his throat, and all tension left him, as another, heavier, long-drawn sigh rumbled through him, and he curled his form back around your smaller frame.

"If I'll return to the dreams that caused such havoc..." he mumbled quietly, his tone unusually wavering. "Then I'll get you out again and help Niffty clean up the mess." "Silly girl, absolutely ridiculous." his breath tickled against your ear, but he sounded lighter already. More like his usual self.

His leg entangled between yours, the limb as muscular as his chest and shoulders had always hinted at. His hand was tracing shapes and unknown symbols onto your back, and you wondered if it was a form of spellcasting to keep you safe while sleeping. But whether it was, or just unconscious movements, the gesture alone was making your heart flutter. The fact that it was his very real, very physical, very touchable chest and hands that were pressed onto your barely clothed skin, providing the soft massaging, and the warm, comforting sensation of his body heat against your own - it was exhilarating and overwhelmingly, absurdly, beautifully intimate.

Friends.

You wondered if that word could describe you and the radio demon. There was something... so much more, at least in your head. So much deeper. He meant something different to you than the others, Vaggie, Charlie - something special. A deep emotional pull, an urge to always seek and - absurdly, knowing he was who he was - to protect, the need to understand. To care and to comfort and to feel his presence at your side. An inevitable, chaotic and maybe even borderline obsessive attraction you couldn't and didn't want to escape. It had already become evident to you, especially in these past two weeks, that you felt something deeper for the demon everyone in the hotel was so wary about. He was special to you, yes, an anchor in a world that could throw any horrible thing at you at any given time, a world that wasn't trustworthy nor consistent. But in a weird twist of fate, he was. To you, he was calmness, security, trust, consistency... happiness.

"...Alastor?" You murmured quietly into the darkness, feeling his cheek come to a rest on the side of your head.

"Yes?" he breathed back, voice laced with drowsiness. His hand kept its rhythmic circling motions on your back, and you realized there was a good chance for you both to drift into a blissfully undisturbed slumber like this, which would make waking up in each other's arms so much easier than the alternative.

"I... You're..." But as soon as you wanted to tell him, to say it out loud, words eluded you. Every sound, every combination of syllables suddenly seemed wrong, sounded stupid, like a horrendous mistake. Your heartbeat quickened and you felt a lump in your throat, your feeble courage battling with your cowardice as the idea of giving this whole idea up, putting those dangerous feelings aside and trying to suppress and pretend they never existed for the sake of preserving your one true friendship, fought back with everything it could muster.

It was such a terrifying leap. And wouldn't it be selfish? To burden him with your feelings, to most likely ruin the bond you had with him right now, which made both your lives better with a companionship so rare. Such an utterly idiotic, thoughtless move.

"Darling..."

You could feel a finger push your chin up and his lips were suddenly a hair's breadth from your own, his nose brushing yours and his warm breath ghosted over your skin. How easy would it be to close the gap now, fill that tiny remainder of space with your mouth and he would finally know what you were about to say. The mere thought made your stomach tingle and your breath tremble, you were aching for any form of confirmation that it would be okay, okay to have feelings for him. You'd accept anything he'd give you, even if it wasn't everything you yearned for - you'd take anything he was ready to offer.

"... isn't your principle that actions speak louder than words?"

A blink in the darkness. A gasp into the silence. And then he was finally closing the space between your faces.

Lips - soft and pliable, moving against yours. Tender, soft, firm pressure. A kiss that said everything words would never manage to convey. Your fingers clawed into the silky fabric of his shirt, your nose pressed against his jaw, tears brimming and stinging behind your eyes as you sighed deeply, relief crashing over you and bliss taking hold. It could've lasted for eternity and still would've ended too soon as he gently pulled away, leaving one more short, lingering touch to the corner of your lips.

"Now let's rest. We shall continue this discussion in the morning." he murmured tiredly as his hand resumed its massaging, this time brushing underneath the hem of your shirt as he settled back into his initial embrace. You laid in his arms for minutes with your heart still racing, but now you could hear and feel his too, drumming in his chest. Two rhythms, beating in wonderful, chaotic harmony.

"Sweet dreams." you managed to whisper, sleepily and content as his breathing flattened, his static quieted and his hands came to rest unmoving at the curve of your back.

And with a long, final sigh, the Radio Demon drifted into deep, calm, undisturbed sleep.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #alastor #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel fanfiction #soft alastor #alastor x you #alastor fluff #read it #this is so good #alastor fanfiction

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selenezq · 2 months

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Air-dried Al

#hazbin hotel #alastor #hazbin alastor #hazbin art #alastor fanart #alastor the radio demon fanart

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selenezq · 2 months

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Ahh this is so cute I love it 😍😍😍

Alastor x Reader

"The Morning After"

This started out as an idea for just a quick funny incorrect quotes and turned into a full-on one shot of fluffy nonesense. G/N reader, though they do wear make-up. No use of Y/N.

Still half asleep, you shifted from laying on your back to your side, facing the edge of the bed. The change in position suddenly made you more awake for two reasons; the pressure on your bladder and the odd green light burning through your eyelids.

You blinked your eyes, squinting for several seconds as your eyes adjusted to the light, and you realized you were looking at the pocket dimension bayou in Alastor’s room.

Alastor’s room.

ALASTOR’S ROOM.

Oh fuck.

You look over at the other side of the bed and see the unmistakable red and black hair, the two long fluffy ears, and little antlers. Markers of his identity that you had grown accustomed to in the years you had known him. What you weren’t used to was the ashen skin of his bare back and the gentle rise and fall of his shoulder as he slept soundly beside you, facing the opposite direction.

He was as naked under the sheets as you were.

Halfway between panicked and giddy with excitement, you recalled the wild night you two had indulged in the night before. The culmination of years of pining on your end – and recently acknowledged and understood feelings on his end – had led you to his bedroom for the very first time last night.

You just hoped it wasn’t something he would wake to regret.

That worry had to come later because right now your poor bladder was going to burst.

Slipping out from under the sheets, you tiptoed as quietly as you could across the floor and into the bathroom, making sure to not turn on the light until the door was softly closed behind you.

Ugghh, you hadn’t even cleaned yourself up before falling asleep. You and Alastor had gone so hot and heavy that once it was over, you both had just passed out, wrapped up in each other’s arms, so exhausted that not even the mess between your legs and the wet spots on the sheets could bother you.

Quickly and quietly, you relieved yourself and then wiped yourself clean, praying to Roo herself that you would get the chance to shower before any more intimate acts were shared between you and Alastor.

And then you flushed the toilet and winced at the insulting and loud noise it made. You forgot the plumbing in this piece of shit building let you know exactly who was showering or taking a piss from two stories above.

Two more things happened simultaneously that got your panic spiking again.

The light in the bedroom flipped on and you caught your reflection in the mirror.

You’re make up was a disaster.

You weren’t so vain as to have never let Alastor see you without it before. Honestly, he’d seen you with a natural and clean face more often than not but of course you had put on a near full face the night before and not cleaned it up before . . . before . . .

Fuck, you probably left lipstick and mascara all over those nice silk sheets he had summoned just before he’d laid you down on them.

There was a soft knock on the door.

“Darling?” Alastor’s voice called for you and he sounded almost insecure and you would think about that later, later, how sweet that little hint of worry in his questioning was and how it meant he was hoping you weren’t regretting anything either and for fuck’s sakes you had patiently waited years to get that man’s dick inside you just for you to forget basic hygiene afterwards and now you had water proof raccoon eyes and lipstick smeared across your face like you were trying out to play the next Joker and what was left of your eyeshadow was in clumps that did nothing but accentuate every little wrinkle around your eyelids . . .

“I’m fine!” you say with a voice that was far too high pitched to be believable and you began searching through the bathroom drawers for a washrag or something to clean up your face. “Just cleaning up a little is all.”

He’d heard the toilet flush, heard the running of the bathroom sink, he had to have heard you rummaging through the drawers, frankly those beautiful ears of his could probably pick up on the sound of your heart racing like fucking Secretariat. And it was Alastor. He had zero sense of personal space and was likely going to barge in any second now-

You heard his soft chuckle as he opened the door and caught you desperately wiping at your face with a washrag and cold water, doing less to remove the makeup and more to just make an even more pathetic mess of colors across your stricken expression.

It didn’t help that you were still completely naked.

“My dearest, there are better ways to go about that.”

Frozen with embarrassment, you watched his reflection in the mirror as he walked behind you, though you wouldn’t meet his eyes. Instead, yours were glued to his equally nude body that he so confidently kept on display for you as he reached around you and opened a drawer, revealing a packet of make-up remover wipes.

He held one up for you and that’s when you finally looked up at him.

His ever-present smile was there, a touch sweeter and affectionate than usual, but the rest of his face looked as bad as yours. Red eyeshadow and black eyeliner had gotten everywhere and with the rather attractive sex hair he had going on, he looked more like a member of an 80’s rock band than he did The Radio Demon.

You couldn’t help the relieved laugh that escaped your lips.

“What, you thought all this was natural? Please,” he gave a dismissive wave of his hand and wrist and began cleaning up his own face.

The tension and nervousness melted away as you followed his lead and after getting yesterday’s make-up properly cleaned up, Alastor even summoned your toothbrush from your room for you to use. And none of it was awkward or weird, doing these normal, domestic things . . . in his bathroom . . . in the nude . . . with him there.

It should have been weird but instead it was unremarkably comfortable. Like it had been this way all along. A normal, mundane morning, in the best way possible.

“Join me for a shower?” he asked, with his hand held out.

There was a plethora of other questions left unsaid in his gaze.

Did you really not regret the night before?

Did you really want him? With all his violent inclinations and strange, often conflicting mannerisms and behaviors?

Were you really ready to commit yourself to the unpredictable life of The Radio Demon?

Offering him your best smile and your hand, you followed him into the steamiest, most invigorating shower of your life.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #alastor x reader #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor fanfiction #alastor the radio demon #alastor #alastor x you

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selenezq · 2 months

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🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞MDNI🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞

After a long wait, (thanks depression) my fic where Alastor rails you in a sundress is finally here.

Alastor x Reader

Reader is AFAB

CW: dub con, stalking, rough sex, explicit content, porn no plot, plot where, plot who

Sundress Summer

It was a hot, but not unpleasantly so day in hell.

The perfect time for wearing a sundress to the picnic Charlie had organized for the bonding exercise of the day. The first thing you noticed as you came to the end of the well-maintained stone walkway was the large red and white checkered tablecloths which covered two sizeable wooden picnic tables to your right. The pleasant breeze caused the edges of the fabric to flutter against the sides of the tables.

A massive spread of food covered both surface areas; it was more than they could all eat truly but it was clear Charlie had tried her best to create another memorable experience for her guests. You smiled from ear to ear with joy at the sight of all your friends together enjoying a day at the park. Husk and Angel Dust were seated on one of the benches lining the massive spread, the spider demon trying his best to get Husk to eat the grape he was attempting to feed him.

"C'mon, just let me feed ya one." Angel whined at the former overlord pushing the piece of fruit towards him.

"Cut that shit out, I can feed myself." Husk growled gruffly, as he swatted half-heartedly at Angel's hand before relenting. "Just one, and then leave it alone alright?"

Husk took a surveying glance around to ensure no one was watching the two of them. You quickly looked in the opposite direction to your left, faining interest in a passing butterfly so as not to intrude on their moment. You tried your best to hide a delighted smile.

With a resigned sigh, Husk let Angel gently feed him a lone grape. "Ah yeah, you like that in ya mouth daddy?" Angel says salaciously with a flirtatious grin.

"Fucking hell, you just had to go and make it weird didn't you," Husk scolded, before giving the tall demon a small shove. You did your best to hold in a laugh, ensuring not to make eye contact with the duo. Your ocular muscles searched for the rest of the group, coming to a stop when you spotted Charlie, excitedly pointing to something in the distance.

"Ohmygosh Vaggie look!!" She exclaimed excitedly, her words strung all together in exuberance. "I can't believe this Infernenta plant is flowering!" Charlie said before skipping joyfully over towards the flowering bush.

She skipped joyfully over towards the flowering bush, her girlfriend watching with a loving expression. Eyes which were usually fierce and full of rage softened before she followed after Charlie. “Yeah, that’s really cool babe.” She said, her voice beginning to fade as she walked further away from you.

You smiled fondly as you watched them go—the two of them were very sweet together. Niffty quickly took over your vision as she dashed around, pulling your attention away from the two lovebirds. She held her needle high in the air with her little hand; she was on the hunt, chasing a particularly large bug.

With a small shudder, you turned around and headed towards an opening in the woods, determined to explore. The thoughts in your busy mind dwelled on the members of your unorthodox group of friends until it occurred to you that had not yet seen Alastor. You wondered what he could be up to—though he rarely joined in on bonding activities.

You pondered deeply on how glad you were to have met them all as your feet took you down a slightly overgrown path, large weeds sprouting between the cracks on the deteriorated stone passage. Lost in your internal musing, you failed to notice a pair of glowing red eyes watching you from the distance; the hunter was tracking your every move.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Radio Demon watched you from the shadows, hidden behind massive amounts of lush, green, foliage. It was a position most familiar to him from his time alive, hiding from plain sight while he waited for the perfect moment to approach his prey. He watched you with an ill-intended gaze, as the short patterned material of your sundress highlighted the beautiful curves of your body. An unfamiliar feeling of desire coursed through him as he feasted his eyes on the sight of you wandering, helplessly alone. You were completely unaware of the danger that lurked behind you—the perfect, irresistible prey.

Alastor was more than well-adjusted to the way the others at the hotel viewed his presence. He was infamous for the danger he posed, but you seemed content to naively ignore the threat he posed. Perhaps that was why he now found himself obsessed with you, needing to be constantly closer to you. No amount of effort could dissuade his need to be close to you; any amount of distance was simply unacceptable. The very lack of your presence had become most intolerable, to the point he found himself stalking you through the shadows, unable to look away from your gentle form.

At first, these feelings had angered him. Alastor had tried his best to make you fear him, unused to all of the new sensations you evoked in him. Popping up from the shadows, scaring you when you were alone in the dimmed hallways of the hotel. You had always laughed in response, slapping his chest playfully as you laughed at his joke and were it anyone he would skin them alive for the unwanted touch. He found it most irritating when you would pull away as if your hand should ever be anywhere but on him.

He started going out of his way to touch you—to make you uncomfortable. It was certainly not because he craved the feeling of your soft, warm, skin under his hand. It became a game he’d play, a way to see how far he could go, how long you would let his hand linger on you. Could he rouse a blush to those beautiful cheeks of yours? Somehow, he rather felt as though he might be losing the game you weren’t even aware you were playing.

Many nights he spent time thinking about how your soft, shiny, hair would feel when he pulled your head back, locks wound around his claws. What noises your sweet, little, lips might let slip, the sight of your kind eyes widening.

Would you let him ruin you if he tried?

The question consumed him as he brought himself back to the sight of his beautiful prey: you. His eyes focused on your radiant presence while your face lit up in delight. You had stumbled upon a beautiful abandoned structure. It appeared this was once a grand gazebo, but time had eroded the marble away. Faint cracks could be seen amongst the vines and foliage that almost concealed it completely from view.

He watched as you were unable to resist the urge to explore, pushing aside some of the greenery covering the entrance. You stepped inside, your graceful form illuminated by slivers of Heaven’s light, shining like sunlight through the thick canopy surrounding the structure.

You were almost completely obstructed from the view of anyone who might come along and it sent a shiver down his back—what a delightful thought, to always have you to himself.

He stalked forward slowly, careful to remain quiet so you would not ruin his little game too early. Hunting for sport was second nature to the demon; hiding amidst the shadows was something Alastor had become quite familiar with. The sight of you blissfully unaware of the potential danger you were in was almost too much to bare; he needed to start the next round of his manipulative little game lest you broke him before he got the chance to break you.

He materialized behind you, his form becoming more corporeal until he was a solid mass that you bumped into when you took a step back. You let out a most exquisite scream of fear as he startled you and a wide, malicious grin spread across his face. You turned quickly to face him, and he watched as your facial expression melted into relief. He was unsure how he felt about the sensation bubbling in his stomach—he brought you ease. Alastor lived to strike fear into the hearts of others, but he could make an exception—just this once.

"Oh, it's just you. That's such a relief." You said with a genuine smile.

"My, my... You are quite a sight for sore eyes. I could just eat you up." Alastor almost purred, his voice thick with his usual filter. Static popped in the air as he stepped closer to you; after such a long hunt, he was so close to getting what he wanted.

"You mean me?" You squeaked in disbelief, insecurity seeping through your voice.

"See here, exactly how fetching I find you, darling." Alastor told you, before grabbing your wrist.

He guided your soft palm to the hardness barely contained by his trousers, a true test to see how far he could push you. How much you would allow him to greedily take? Would this be the time he finally pushed you too far and you realized the peril you were in, being the object of his dark fascination?

He watched hungrily as your eyes widened in surprise, a pretty pink tongue darting out to wet your lips.

“This is all for me?” You asked, voice laced in awe and he wanted to consume you.

You were a curious creature, a difficult prey to understand. You never gave him the responses he was expecting, and yet always gave him a response he enjoyed. Rather than flee from the evident danger you found yourself in, you seemed quite pleased at his forward and lewd actions—what a foolish girl.

“Well of course my dear, who else would it be for?” Alastor teased, his voice full of amusement as he gestured to the empty overgrown gazebo. He brought a clawed hand down to cover your own, his large hand dwarfing your much smaller one as he pressed your hand closer to the tent in his pants. He let out a strangled groan at the much-needed contact, his usual composure falling apart every minute he spent in your presence. “The things you do to me, pet. This is all for you, because of you.”

He thrust his hips up into your touch, chasing your nimble fingers before he allowed himself to regain control of himself. He melted away into the shadows with a quick use of his powers and the warm tension of having him pressed against you was gone. It was amusing to him how evident you made it that you were desperate for his touch. A menacing laugh echoed around the gazebo as he slid up from the pool of shadows at your feet behind you, shoving you back into the siding of the shelter. You fell briefly, your sundress bunching around your hips exposing your cunt and the tiny piece of fabric that covered it from view.

You were an absolute vision, he noted. He was addicted to this version of you, vulnerable and needy for him and him alone. Slowly, painstakingly slowly, Alastor brought his much larger hand to rest on your leg. His rough scarred skin pressed against your much softer skin, and you shivered against him beautifully. He wondered how long he could stand to do this to you, playing with you simply because he knew you’d let him—could he finally make you snap?

He teasingly brought his hand up your thigh, ghosting a finger along your clothed slit. He swallowed a hungry growl as a fresh round of wetness gushed into your panties at even the faintest touch. Every single stroke, every touch, was methodical and planned—he wanted to watch you come undone. He held himself with tension, holding himself back from ruining you completely.

You lifted your hips just enough, wordlessly signalling to him just how eager you were. It broke the hold he had over himself, the shred of control he kept in place to protect you. He shredded the flimsy undergarment, letting it drop by your feet as an unusable scrap of fabric. His fingers traced harsh, heavy circles around your swollen clit and it was pure bliss to watch as you threw your head back, releasing a muffled cry of bliss.

He plunged a dexterous finger into you without warning. A ragged, desperate moan escaped your lips and he watched as your face seemed to glow a bright scarlet in humiliation. He curled his finger inside of you, watching as your body shook for him but it wasn’t enough. He needed to drive his cock deep inside you, to feel your pussy clench around him while you moaned just like that. Despite the fact you should be ashamed, you rutted against him and it was enough to drive the best of men mad—and Alastor was not the best of men by a long shot.

He pulled his finger out of you, bringing it to his mouth before licking it clean. He swiftly undid his belt, before moving to pull the zipper on his pants down. The sound reverberated in the small hidden gazebo and he watched as you dripped in anticipation for him—he hadn’t hungered like this in centuries. He tugged his trousers down around his firm thighs and his massive cock sprung free. You let out a small whimper as you looked at his cock, a mixture of anticipation and fear shining in your eyes.

“I can assure you, darling, that it will fit. You’re going to take every single inch of me.” Alastor commanded; the incredulous look in your eyes only spurring him on.

He watched as your pussy clenched desperately with need around empty air, and his rock-hard cock glistened with precum. You were a marvel to behold.

“Alastor, please, don’t make me wait any longer. I—I need you.” You admitted with a plea, a blush dusting across your face from the sound of your own needy voice.

He pushed you further back against the siding of the forgotten structure you had found yourselves in, your back hit the siding with a soft thud. He lifted your leg up to wrap it around his waist as he slotted himself against your dripping pussy, rubbing the swollen head of his member between your folds, before he pushed to be inside of you.

He moved slowly, inch by inch until his considerable length was seated within you. Your warm walls gripped him tightly and he let out a shaky groan. An aggressive buzz, filled with fizzles and pops, filled the air as he made himself wait, letting you adjust to his large size. His eyes glowed as he gazed down at you fondly. “You’re such a good girl, taking all of me so well. You’re mine now.” He growled possessively, a hand coming up to grip your waist. “Say it, tell me who you belong to.”

There was a manic edge to his words, a need for you to understand that he owned you.

“You. I belong to you, Alastor!” You cried out in pleasure, without hesitation, and he picked up his pace in response. You were such a good girl; you knew exactly where you belonged. His hips slammed his cock in and out of you, chasing your delightful cries and screams.

The final strand of control within him snapped as he looked upon your debauched form. His antlers grew high and heavy above his head, his eyes becoming dials as he lost himself in his desire for you. His cock swelled within you, so large that he feared he might just break you. You released a soft whimper as he felt the head of his cock bumping into your cervix, but rather than push him away, you clawed at him to bring him closer—you were perfection.

“I never imagined I’d feel so complete being inside you like this, darling.” Alastor confessed, lost in the throes of ecstasy. He brought a hand up, lavishing his attention on your clit as he picked up the pace. He felt your body begin to shake and he knew it wouldn’t be long, he felt you coming undone with every stroke of his digits, every thrust of his colossal member was bringing you closer to the edge.

“Alastor, don’t stop! I’m getting close!” You pleaded desperately.

Immediately at your words, he stopped completely. He rested his fingers on your throbbing clit, his dick painfully still inside of your tight heat. You let out a frustrated sob, a lone tear welling up in your eyes and he leaned forward to lick it off your cheek. The sight of you, a desperate and quivering mess was enough to move even the staunchest of sadists.

“Please, please, please.” You begged, all sense of dignity lost. A tear fell down your cheek and he relished the moment of triumph in his twisted game. The sight of you crying and desperate beneath him brought him a degenerative sense of glee—he needed to make you cry more in the future. “Alastor, I’ve dreamed of this so often! I need to—please let—if I could just cum!”

“Hmm, I should like to think to think a bright young girl such as yourself could articulate that better, my dear.” He replied, a sadistic smile stretching across his face as he leered down at you.

“You’re being so cruel.” You cried out, voice dripping with desperation and it fed the hunger deep within him. He had no witty retort to return to your cries—he wanted you to beg. “Please, I’m begging you—I’ve touched myself thinking of you so many times. I never even dreamed you would return my desire. I can’t—I need you to move—to fuck me silly until I cum around your giant cock—please.”

You pleaded sweetly, your voice dripping with desperation and need for him that brought him immense joy and good girls got rewarded.

“Your pleas are music to my ears pet, I suppose they’ve earned you a reward. You’re so pretty when you beg.” He asserted before resuming his brutal pace. Beautiful euphoric tears fell down your cheeks, painting them so prettily, as he fucked into you. He felt you tighten around him, and in a direct constant to his rough pace, he brought his other hand up to gently cradle your face. He pressed his lips to yours, moaning as your soft lips parted to allow his tongue to explore your mouth. He laid claim to every inch of you he touched.

“Alastor!” You cried into his mouth, your orgasm crashing over you like a tidal wave. You collapsed into him, allowing him to support your weight as he continued to fuck into your quivering body. Your cunt clenched deliciously around him as you rocked your hips backwards, chasing the friction he provided desperately. The sight of you so thoroughly debauched combined with the sensation of your walls gripping him tightly sent him over the edge. He shot thick ropes of cum inside of you as he finished with a loud groan, breaking away from the kiss.

The sound of your combined panting and heavy breathing filled the otherwise silent air, and he rested his head in the crook of your neck. “Ma biche, that was even better than I could have possibly imagined.” He praised, mumbling the words into your neck. You both lay intertwined for a while, neither wanting to break the silence and end the moment.

“We should find the others before they find us, but I’d love to do this again.” You said, and he could hear the desperate plea in your voice—good.

“Of course we will do this again, you belong to me now.” He replied, matter-of-factly.

He snapped his two fingers together, returning the two of you to your prior state of dress. The mess was gone as if it had never been there, though he loathed to return your undergarments to you. “Shall we, darling?”

You shot him a contented smile as you linked your arm with his, allowing him to lead you back to where the rest of the group was still enjoying the picnic.

Tag list @cosmiccandydreamer @alastorthirsty @ari-hatake15

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