#hazbin hotel fanfiction | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

redvexillum · 2 days

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TAGS/WARNINGS: fingerf♡cking, dom/sub undertone, no established relationship, dub-con, f!reader, shadow f♡cking, power imbalance, gagging, bondage, asphyxiation, brat!reader, ♡verstimulation, alastor being a lil shit, b♡ndage, alastor makes reader into his lil b!tch lykyk

EXTRA WARNING: This is not a drabble. It is 3.9K words long.

Leaning back in your chair, you mirrored the unsettling grin that stretched across Alastor’s face. His grin, a sharp crescent of teeth, seemed to carve deeper into his cheeks. His eyes squinted just slightly – enough to glint with a darker, more ominous edge.

You felt a spark of excitement ignite in your chest as you watched the subtle shift in his expression. It was a game to you now, one you’d become quite fond of.

“My, my, I do feel awful that no one listens to your broadcasts anymore, Alastor,” you purred, your voice dripping with saccharine sweetness. You stretched your arms above your head lazily, as though you had all the time in the world.

Ever since you’d come to the hotel, Charlie’s redemption exercises had left you with more downtime than you cared for, and boredom was your worse enemy. But now, you found entertainment in a much more thrilling pursuit – pushing the buttons of the ever-grinning, one and only, Radio Demon.

A wicked thrill slithered down your spine when you noticed the faintest twitch of his left eye. His head tilted to the side, a glimmer of amusement – and perhaps annoyance – flickering behind his red-tinted gaze. He scoffed, the sound like static breaking through a radio, and muttered something about the “younger generation not appreciating the finer aspects of real entertainment.”

As Alastor turned his head away, a shadowy movement caught your eyes. His shadow, usually a perfect reflection of him, rippled as if caught in a breeze that wasn’t there.

And then…it shifted.

The once-stoic silhouette frowned, its mass shrinking, folding in on itself like a chastised child. It looked almost…sad.

Oh? Now, this was interesting.

You’d never teased Alastor about his powers before, but this might just be the perfect opportunity. The idea of seeing him drop that ever-present, smug grin sent a delightful jolt of pleasure through you. Leaning forward, your grin spread wider, more mischievous than before.

“You know, Alastor, I’ve noticed something quite fascinating about you. Your powers…quite the spectacle, aren’t they? Shadow magic, if I’m not mistaken?” You tilted your head, watching him intently.

To your amusement, Alastor perked up at your words, his chest puffing out slightly, and a proud look took over his expression. He casually inspected his nails, playing into the flattery. “Ah, yes, indeedy! My abilities are rather unique – far beyond the capabilities of any other demon’s magic, I dare say –“

“It’s a pretty lame power,” you interrupted, smirking as you blew a raspberry. “I mean, shadow magic? Really? I’ve seen cooler tricks at a children’s birthday party.” You glanced pointedly at his shadow, which now seemed to shrink even more, trying to hide behind Alastor’s body. “Honestly, the TV demon has way better power. You ever see the stuff he can do? Now that’s impressive.”

Alastor froze, and in that instant, the surrounding air grew thick and heavy. The room itself seemed to fall under a strange, unnatural stillness. Before you could blink, something cold and slick snapped across your lips, silencing you of any further quips. Your eyes widened as you struggled to move, but your limbs were no longer yours to command. Invisible tendrils of force held you pinned to the chair, your body stiff and unyielding.

Alastor’s grin widened, impossibly so, and when he finally spoke, his voice was a low, vibrating hum that echoed through your mind.

“My dear,” he cooed, leaning in just enough for you to feel the pressure of his very presence, “there are some games you don’t want to play with me.”

You squirmed from the invisible restraint that rendered you mute and powerless.

“What was that, dear?” Alastor’s voice dripped with venomous amusement; his eyes gleamed with a malicious red glint. His grin, too wide, illuminated in a sickly yellow glow, casting eerie shadows across his sharp features. Slowly, methodically, he tilted his head to the side, the crack of his neck echoing through the room like the snap of a dry twig underfoot.

Your heart leapt in your chest, but you tried to maintain your composure. Glancing down at your hand, you noticed it trembling ever so slightly, a faint dark aura curling around your fingers like mist. When you looked back up, Alastor’s eyes were already locked on you, his grin didn’t falter, but the malice radiating from him was palpable, chilling the surrounding air.

“You’ve been so incredibly chatty before, and now…you’ve grown ever so silent!” His laugh was low, a dark melody of mockery as he leaned back in his chair, his posture relaxed as if savouring the moment. “I’m surprised that you chose now to listen to your better!” His voice lifted into a higher, mocking pitch, echoing through the room like a twisted lullaby.

A grunt of frustration left your throat as you tried to move, but your body refused to respond. The invisible force binding you to the chair seemed to tighten, and then you felt it – a whisper of a touch against the curve of your neck. It was impossibly soft, like the brush of a feather, but it sent a jolt of electricity racing down your spine, igniting every nerve it grazed.

You clenched your teeth, eyes fluttering shut, fighting the small pitiful whimper building in your throat. You would not give him the satisfaction of knowing your weakness – specifically, your erogenous zone, more like.

Tensing your muscles, your desperately tried to suppress your whimper as it clawed its way up your throat. But the second his voice crackled to life, sharp and sinister, that resolve began to crumble.

“Interesting.”

The single word dripped with dark amusement, and your eyes snapped open, wide with disbelief. You stared at him, searching for answers in his glowing red eyes. Alastor grinned wider, basking in the silent panic flickering across your face.

Before you could even process a single thought, you felt it again – that feather like touch, teasing just behind your ear. The cool, silky sensation slithered down the curve of your neck, and this time, there was no holding back the involuntary shudder that coursed through you.

Your body betrayed you completely.

As if the invisible binding loosened just enough, your lips were freed, but not in time to stop the soft, devastating moan that slipped past them. The sound hung in the air between you like a damning confession.

“My, look at you,” Alastor purred, his voice a deep, honeyed tenor that sent a shiver of anticipation and want down your spine and penetrated into your core. Another caress – so gentle, so deliberate – skated across your hot, flushed skin. “Had I known this was all it took to get some peace and silence from you, I would have done it much sooner.”

His words coiled around you, thick with smug satisfaction, as his eyes drank in the sight of your face contorting, torn between restraint and giving in to the sensations he was pulling from you.

Summoning what little strength you had left, you glared at him through your lustful haze, the words, “fuck you,” barely managing to escape your trembling lips. The weak insult only seemed to heighten his amusement. His grin stretched wider, sharp teeth catching the dim light as he leaned in closer, eyes sparkling with twisted delight.

“You claimed my power was useless,” he murmured, his voice suddenly cold, authoritative. “So, I suppose a demonstration is in order.”

The way he loomed over you, despite sitting across from you with his gaze unyielding made you feel like a student caught misbehaving under the stern gaze of a teacher. His impassive expression only weighed in on your feelings of helplessness.

“I’ll pass–ahhnn!” Your feeble attempt to reject him was cut off, morphing into desperate gasps as those silky tendrils glided lower. They traced a slow, torturous path down your chest, brushing against the sensitive tips of your nipples. Your breath hitched as you squirmed in the chair, thighs trembling in a vain attempt to close your legs as you were sure the evidence of your desire was staining the inner centre of your pants.

“Now, now,” he crooned, his words laced with an almost affectionate mockery. “We’ve only just begun!”

Alastor’s laughter was pure and unadulterated as he declared with a flourish, “Honestly, I want you to feel comfortable around me, my dear!” His voice rang out boisterously, and with a sharp snap of his fingers, that same invisible force pried your legs apart.��

You gasped, the air escaping you in ragged pants as the sensations assaulting your body intensified. The thick, musty air seemed to cling to your overheated skin, and every nerve felt as though it was ablaze, ignited by the unseen force caressing you. Your lips trembled as you bit down hard, trying – desperately – to stifle the moans bubbling up from deep within. Yet, your traitorous body, the slick heat pooling between your thighs, betrayed you in ways you could no longer control.

The unforgiving hardness of the chair beneath you did nothing to ease the ache throbbing at your core. It only heightened your frustration. Somehow, despite the layers of fabric still clinging to your skin, this mysterious, phantom touch seemed to bypass everything – touching you as though you were stripped bare.

Your nipples, painfully hardened, were being rubbed and pinched in ways that had your breath catching, your chest heaving as tears of desperation pricked at the corners of your eyes. You were perilously close to begging.

“You see, my dear,” Alastor’s voice cut through the haze, mocking and sharp, “you must not fully grasp the extent of my power if you dare compare me to that lousy ‘picture box.’” He spat the words with a venomous disdain, his eyes narrowing. “Beg for my forgiveness, and perhaps I’ll show mercy.” His voice dipped into a low, dangerous whisper, dripping with dark intent.

Your heart pounded in your ears, but something else caught your attention. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw it – Alastor’s shadow, the one that had lurked behind him, was now slithering across the floor, positioning itself directly behind you. Its tendrils writhed, holding you firmly in place, while its grotesque grin loomed close, mirroring its master’s. The shadow’s presence was suffocating, overwhelming as its clawed hands slowly traced a path of pleasure down the front of your chest.

“I…” You hesitated, trembling as those same spectral hands pinched your already sensitive nipples, somehow phasing through your clothes. Blood rushed to the tender tips, heightening your torment with drawn out pleasure. “I think – ah – it’s still pretty lame,” you challenged, arching a brow, your tongue flicking out to slowly trail along your lower lip, drawing Alastor’s attention.

Alastor’s eyes darkened, pupils shrinking into narrow slits as he followed the motion of your tongue. His mouth twisted into a manic grin, and let out a wild, unhinged cackle. “I’ll never understand your generation’s needless stubbornness!” He declared, shaking his head in mock disbelief.

In the blink of an eye, everything changed. The kitchen, the dim light – it all vanished. You were swallowed by darkness, an endless void that stretched in every direction. Yet, you remained seated in the same chair, surrounded by nothing. Your sight had been stolen from you, leaving you blind and disoriented.

“Fascinating, wouldn’t you say?” Alastor’s voice rang out through the void, calm and calculated. You could feel his eyes on you, drinking in your every movement, like a predator waiting for its prey to make one wrong misstep.

“Ah!” You yelped, body jerking as something – a sensation like fingers – began rubbing against the slick folds between your legs. Despite the barrier provided by your clothes, the touch was undeniable, intimate, and invasive. Your legs were spread wide, leaving you completely vulnerable to the unseen force now exploring the wetness pooling there. The soft, wet sound of your own arousal filled the surrounding silence, intensifying the humiliation as your body responded without hesitation.

Quick, shallow breaths escaped your lips as you squirmed, trying to find some way to relieve the relentless teasing. Yet, all you could feel was that luxurious, maddening touch, dipping and teasing, tracing the sensitive thick folds. The darkness amplified everything – the wet sounds, the shuddering moans you couldn’t hold back, and the ache that radiated from your core.

You whimpered softly, the desperation clear in every breath, every twitch of your body. You wanted more – needed more – your throbbing clit practically screaming for attention, while your cunt begged for release.

But all you had was Alastor’s voice, echoing through the endless dark, and the maddening, torturous touch that refused to give you the satisfaction you so desperately craved.

The same shadowy appendages rubbed and rubbed, smooth and relentless, dipping into you right at the entrance, gathering your slick before gliding against your inner folds again. Your thighs trembled as you were forced into a shameful display, and you couldn’t bear to think about what expression you wore for Alastor now. Your hips instinctively jerking to grind against the shadowy fingers teasing your wet folds.

“You know what to say, dear,” Alastor’s voice slithered into your ear, a low murmur that sent a shiver down your spine. In the darkness, with your body immobile, every whisper, every breath, every slick sound of Alastor’s shadow playing you amplified your vulnerable and aroused state. The contrast between the cool darkness and the peculiar warm touch of his shadow heightened your awareness, pushing you closer to the edge.

Hot tears began to trickle down your cheeks, mixing with the heat of your embarrassment as the shadow’s caress shifted from teasingly light to an almost punishing pressure. It demanded more from your greedy, slick heat. Abandoning any pretense of pride, you let out a desperate whimper. “Please, I-I’m sorry,” you cried, your voice trembling in the oppressive silence. Only your head and neck were free from the shadow’s hold, leaving you breathless and exposed.

“I’m sorry for saying your shadow power was lame,” you gasped, and your words were rewarded with a sudden fullness, the thick, unyielding digit pushing deep inside you, curling against your sensitive skin.

“Oh, my, look at you,” Alastor said, his voice tinged with mockery. “Such a pretty mess you’ve made. Who would have thought this would be your undoing?”

“Oh, God,” you moaned, your head thrown back in surrender, grateful to whatever fucking deity was listening for finally filling the emptiness that pulsed within you. “Ah, more, please, more,” you whimpered, emboldened by the darkness, free from the weight of his gaze – though you could almost feel it, a predatory presence looming over you, delighting in your plight.

A sudden tearing sound made you gasp; your pants ripped at the seam, a cool breeze kissing your exposed skin, intensifying the slick warmth pooling between your legs.

“Look at you, dear. You’re absolutely drenched, soaked your underwear right through! Hah!” Alastor chuckled, his voice a disembodied tease, echoing all around you. You couldn’t tell where he was anymore – behind you, beside you, or perhaps he hadn’t moved at all, still watching with that insufferably bored expression, like a spectator at a dull weather report.

“S-sorry,” you moaned, the undeniable squelch of your arousal filling the air, shame mingling with pleasure as whatever was touching you coaxed out your need. You strained to see, but the darkness was absolute, leaving you only to imagine those shadowy appendages moving in and out of your wet, sopping cunt – a hypnotic rhythm that drove you wild.

It felt incredible – so impossibly good – as the dexterous finger-like tendrils curled and pressed all the right spots, drawing you closer and closer to the precipice. You clenched your abdomen, desperate for release, but then the motion halted abruptly. The loss of sensation was cruel, leaving you painfully aching, yearning for that delicious stretch, for the pull and push of your inner walls.

“Now, now, don’t be greedy,” Alastor purred, his tone dripping with mockery. “Patience is a virtue, or haven’t you learned that yet?”

A snap echoed in the room, and your vision flooded with light. Across from you, just as you expect, sat Alastor, his ever-present grin splitting his face. Legs crossed, he watched with amusement flickering in his eyes. “Ah, sight isn’t the only thing I can take away, my dear,” he mused, voice dripping with sinister glee.

Your mouth was stretched wide, forced open, as his shadow lingered beside you, its hand plunged into your mouth. Its slick fingers pressed down on your tongue, holding it captive. Humiliation gnawed at you as drool leaked from the corners of your lips, a slow trickle that dripped down your chin. The warm saliva cooled quickly against your skin, but the undeniable feeling of shame mingling with the hot, burning desire of pleasure consumed you.

When your gaze flicked downward, you caught the sight of Alastor’s shadow. Its fingers danced over your swollen clit, moving in tight, calculated circles. The delicate touch was maddening as you felt it was just short of pushing you closer to the peak.

A helpless moan slipped out, muffled by the fingers lodged in your mouth. The more Alastor’s shadow played with you, the more fluids spilled, your lips trembling as saliva and arousal dripped from your needy body.

Unexpectedly, the shadow’s fingers plunged inside your slick heat, driving deep with unrelenting force. Your eyelids fluttered shut as another guttural moan vibrated around the intruding fingers in your mouth. Your throat strained with each breath, the effort of swallowing excess saliva adding to your torment. The lewd, wet sounds of your body being claimed filled the air – each thrust squelching with a vulgar intensity that only heightened your spiralling, intense desire.

Alastor’s voice cut through the haze of pleasure and submission. “Beg for forgiveness, my dear,” he crooned, his tone mocking yet lilting, as though he were offering you something. “And perhaps, I may allow you to finish.”

Your body craved release, teetering on the brink of orgasm, but the shadow's fingers stuffed in your mouth made coherent words impossible. You struggled to form even a basic plea, but all that escaped your lips were garbled moans and desperate, incoherent sounds. Your abdomen clenched, desperate – so fucking desperate – to reach your peak, but your hips remained pinned, unable to find the friction they needed.

Your eyes darted to Alastor in panic, pleading silently. His grin split through his cheeks, as though relishing in your helplessness. “Oh dear, it seems you don’t really want it after all,” he sighed with a mock expression of disappointment, his voice laced with dark amusement.

A fresh wave of frustration swirling with anger and desperation ripped though you as you continued to teeter at the edge, unable to tumble over. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, and soon they streamed down your face, joining the cooling drool that stained your chin. You moaned incoherently around the shadow’s fingers, your voice trembling with need.

Alastor’s eyebrows raised, his tone exaggerated with surprise. “Well, aren’t you a lucky one? It just so happens I’m in quite a generous mood!” His tone continued its uplifting beat, matching his exterior joviality.

As if on cue, the fingers left your mouth, but before you could gather your breath, you felt a tight pressure coil around your neck. It squeezed, slow and purposeful, cutting off your airflow inch by damning inch. Panic shot through you as you gagged for air, your pulse hammering in your ears. Alastor’s shadow grinned, its face looming beside yours as it continued to relentlessly fuck you with its fingers. They moved with vicious intent, plunging deep into your walls, hitting every sensitive spot, each stroke sending your body reeling.

Your vision began to blur, dark spots forming at the edges as your head swam with lightheadedness. The air refused to fill your lungs, the tightness around your throat unbearable, until suddenly – release. A flood of oxygen rushed in to your body at the same time the shadow’s fingers curled deliciously inside you, pressing against your g-spot with merciless precision.

The orgasm hit you like a crashing wave. A raw scream tore from your throat, mixing with sobs as pleasure washed over you in undulating waves. Your body convulsed, trembling uncontrollably as the shadow’s fingers never relented, still thrusting, still curling, keeping you locked in the agonizing cycle of ecstasy.

“Ahhhh…fu-ahhhh!” You sobbed, the pleasure too much, too intense. Your clit throbbed painfully, swollen and oversensitive, and the shadow’s fingers began to slap at it – hard, wet slaps that sent sharp bursts of pain rippling through the pleasure. It was endless. The overwhelming sensation of being pushed beyond your limit clouded your thoughts, a jumble of pain, of pleasure, and of torment.

“Aren’t I generous?” Alastor asked, his voice heavy with mockery. He watched your body writhed and twitch beneath his control. “Let’s see how many times I can make you break, hm?”

The moment Alastor uttered his final words, his shadow’s fingers drove back into you – three of them this time – curling deep inside your weeping cunt. They moved fast, a blur of relentless thrusts that tore another orgasm from your exhausted body. You gasped for breath, the feeling being stretched and filled too much, your mind going blank from the overload.

“A-ah, to-too much,” you managed to cry out, though your body remained stiff and unmoving, helpless against the hold Alastor’s shadow had on you. Your cunt clenched tightly around the dexterous fingers, your core pulsing as the shadow showed no mercy, working your sensitive spots with precision.

And then – hot and wet – his shadow’s tongue trailed up the back of your ear, the same spot that had started it all. It licked and sucked at your skin, the obscene sounds filling your ears, mingling with the squelching from your dripping cunt. You could feel the puddle forming beneath you, the wetness between your legs soaking the seat. Your body trembled, your mind teetering on the brink as you felt yourself nearing the edge again.

Just as the pressure built, a sharp pinch at your raw nipple jolted you, sending you hurtling into another orgasm. This time, no sound escaped you – your scream was swallowed by the force of the release. Your body convulsed, jerking with each wave of pleasure that rolled through you, until you were nothing more than a quivering, wet, mess.

As the shadow’s grip loosened, your body collapsed forward, slumping against the cool tiles. The cold surface was a sharp contrast to the burning heat of your overstimulated skin. Your entire body continued to tremble, twitching from the aftershocks of pleasure still rippling through you. Your tongue lolled out as it took everything you had to continue to breathe despite the shameful display of drooling like a dog by Alastor’s feet.

“Now then,” Alastor’s voice chimed in brightly, his polished shoes the only thing in your line of sight as he stood before you. “I do hope you’ll clean up after yourself. This may be a hotel, but our complimentary brunch is self-service, after all.” He laughed, a sound filled with genuine mirth, before his body melted into the shadows.

The ends of your lips twitched upwards, your body still shivering as you felt the cool slide of your arousal dripping out from the apex of your thighs. You could still feel the lingering touch of his shadow still imprinted on your body.

Follow #vexitober 2024 to read my questionable kink/fluff stories!

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voxslays · 2 days

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“We fell in love in October”

Featuring >>> Vox x Reader; In which Vox is stressed about Alastor’s return, and scared of you leaving him.

You step into Vox's surveillance room and see him sitting in front of a bunch of televisions showing different views around hell, mostly around the ‘Hazbin Hotel.’ He doesn't even bother to look at you before yelling. "What the hell do you want? I'm busy!" He says, his face still buried in his work. “It’s just me Vox.” You say softly. Vox finally looks at you, his red eyes narrowing slightly as he recognizes you. “Ah, it's just you, huh? Well, that changes things a bit.” He leans forward, his interest piqued. “What's so important that you had to come all the way here to see me?”

“Can’t I just visit a friend?” You ask gently. Vox chuckles, his monitor eyes glinting with amusement. “Visit a friend, huh? In hell?” He shakes his head. “You really are naive, aren't you? Friends don't exist in hell. Everyone's either trying to screw each other over or plotting their revenge.” He says passive aggressively. “Oh.” You say, obviously heart by his revelation. You thought you were friends. Vox's expression softens slightly, his eyes flickering with a gentler light. “But hey, if you really just wanted to see me, that's... nice.” He pauses, seeming to consider something.

“Sorry.” Vox's eyes narrow again, suspicion creeping into his voice. “Wait a minute. This isn't about Alastor, is it?” He leans back in his chair, crossing his arms. “I knew that you’d be upset about him returning…so I thought I’d make sure you were okay.” You gingerly utter, feeling gormless. Vox's face darkens, his grip tightening on his arms. “Oh, so you pitied me?” He growls, his words contort into a staticy TV voice. “Well, newsflash, I don't need your pity!” He slams his fist on the desk, making the televisions shake.

“I'm sorry for wasting your time.” You say as you begin to walk away. Vox's eyes widen slightly as you turn to leave, a flicker of something—regret, perhaps—crossing his face before it's quickly hidden behind his usual scowl. “Wait.” He says, his voice a bit softer but still gruff. “I didn't...I mean…” He trails off. He sighs, pinching the edge of his screen. “Look, I'm sorry, okay? You're one of the few people in this godforsaken place who actually tries to be nice.” He utters quietly.

Vox stands up, his tall frame looming over you as he reaches out to grab your arm. “Just... stay, okay? I need someone to talk to, and you're the only one who doesn't want to stab me in my sleep.” He looks at you with a rare, almost vulnerable expression. “I’m sure thats not true.” You gently whisper. Vox snorts derisively. “You'd be surprised.” He lets go of your arm and flops back down into his chair, spinning around to face his monitors again. “Most of the demons here either hate me or want to use me for something.”

“What about Velvette and Valentino?” Vox rolls his eyes. “Those two are only nice to me because they need something. Velvette wants to use my tech skills to boost her social media influence, and Valentino...well, let's just say he has a few 'special’ requests for me from time to time.” He says, displeased. “I’m sorry.” Vox waves a dismissive hand, but his shoulders slump slightly. “It's fine. I'm used to it.” He falls silent for a moment, staring at his screens with unseeing eyes. “You know, the only person who ever truly cared about me was Alastor.”

Vox's voice is filled with a mix of longing and pain. “He was the one who taught me everything I know about power. He used to spend hours with me, showing me new tricks and challenging me to improve. He’s the reason I’m an overlord.” Vox's eyes glaze over, lost in memories. “But then he left. He abandoned me and everyone else in hell for that damn hotel. And now he barely even acknowledges my existence.” He snaps back to reality, his face twisting into a scowl. “Stupid Alastor.” Vox's expression softens slightly, a vulnerable look in his eyes. “Sometimes I wonder... if I could just show him that I'm still his loyal understudy, maybe he'd take me back. Maybe he'd be proud of me again.”

“But you don’t need him anymore. Maybe he left because he knew you were ready to become an overlord.” You try to stay optimistic, patting his shoulder tenderly. Vox's smile is bitter. “Easy for you to say. You don't know what it's like to have Alastor as your mentor. He's not just any demon, he's the radio demon. And I need his approval more than anything.” He shakes his head, his eyes flashing red for a brief moment. "You're wrong. I'm not ready. I could never be as great as Alastor." His voice takes on a desperate edge. "Sometimes I think...Maybe I should just give up. Stop trying to prove myself."

“You don’t need to prove yourself to me.” You speak tenderly. Vox looks at you, his eyes filled with a raw, aching need. “You...you really mean that, don’t you?” He asks vulnerably. “I do.”

Vox's face contorts, his expression crumpling as he suddenly lunges forward, wrapping his arms around you and burying his face in your shoulder. His body shakes as he lets out a low, broken sob, the weight of his loneliness and longing finally overwhelming him. You feel his hot tears soaking through your clothes as he clings to you, his grip tightening as if afraid you'll disappear if he lets go. "You're...you're the only one who's ever really cared about me," he chokes out, his voice muffled against your shoulder.

Slowly, hesitantly, Vox pulls back just enough to look at you, his eyes red-rimmed and glistening with unshed tears. He reaches up with a shaky hand to cup your face, his thumb gently brushing over your cheek. "I..." He trails off. Vox takes a deep, shuddering breath, his eyes searching yours intensely as he struggles to find the right words. "I...I think I'm falling in love with you. No, I am in love with you. Completely, utterly, hopelessly in love." He says.

Vox leans in slowly, giving you plenty of time to pull back if you're not ready for this. But he hopes you are. He hopes that you feel the same way, that you've been falling for him just as hard as he's been falling for you. "May I..." He asks. “Yes.” A brilliant smile stretches across Vox's face, and he leans in the rest of the way, his lips meeting yours in a soft, tender kiss. He feels an overwhelming sense of relief and happiness wash over him as he pulls you closer, deepening the kiss slightly.

Vox's eyes flutter closed as he loses himself in the feeling of your lips against his. His hands come up to gently cup your face, thumbs caressing your cheeks. After a long, blissful moment, he pulls back just slightly, resting his forehead against yours. "I...I can't believe you're real," Vox whispers, his voice barely audible. "I've dreamed of this moment so many times, and now it's actually happening. You're actually kissing me back. You actually care about me..." He pauses. “I love you.” Vox's breath hitches, and he pulls you into another searing kiss, his body trembling with happiness. When he finally pulls away again, he's grinning like an idiot, tears of joy streaming down his face. "You...you love me too?"

A soft, delighted laugh escapes Vox, and he closes the distance between your lips once more, kissing you with renewed fervor. His heart swells with happiness, and he feels like he could burst from sheer joy. "I love you too," Vox murmurs against your lips, his voice trembling with emotion. "More than anything.” He hugs you tightly, his face buried in your neck. Vox holds you all night, savoring the feeling of your warmth and love.

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fraugwinska · 2 days

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This was long overdue - And although I'm late to the party, I felt the need for this important Update for a while. Better late than never!

Fellow adult Smut-Creators: Feel free to use this image for your own blog if you'd like!

#hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel fanfiction #fraugwinskawrites #alastor #hazbin hotel smut #tumblr asks #minors stay away!

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staticmothlimbo · 3 days

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The ups and downs with being villains. Other drawn moments for Cake Slices Are Shaped Like Vs

I am still very pleased with how my jaguar came out, even if I absolutely failed at stylising it into Spindlehorse's artstyle aaaaaa

#fanart #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel comic #hazbin hotel valentino #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin hotel velvette #my art #hazbin hotel fanfiction

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hazelfoureyes · 2 days

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A Doe in Fall (Part 12)

⟢HumanAlastor x FemaleBurlesquerReader - A Doe in Fall

A burlesquer with a penchant for conning men, you find your latest game interrupted when your next mark saves you from an aggressive fan— by killing him. The chance encounter left you curious, still half convinced you could complete your normal chase. Unbeknownst to you, you were the one being tracked.

Part 1 - Pretty in Red smut💦 Part 2 - Liar smut💦 Part 3 - A Tragedy smut💦 Part 4 - Enough Part 5 - Too Much Part 6 - Learning smut💦 Part 7 - Recognition smut💦 Part 8 - Trust sexual 🥵 Part 9 - Shiny Things Part 10 - Good Deeds Part 11 - Caught Part 12 - Eddie📍

Part 12 Eddie

Brady tried to cut some corners to bring you and Alastor down but ends up just hurting himself.

「Warnings/Promises: Human Alastor x Fem!Reader, still not smut cuz we’re waiting for the special moment, po-po, 5-0, down at the gun club, not an accurate portrayal of 1930s New Orleans Leadership, mystery kisses, brief thoughts of violence, illiteracy, @minkdelovely」

MDNI 👮 🚓

Edward Freeman met Kenneth Brady when the younger man was partnered with him. He was bright eyed, and had a sense of justice Freeman appreciated. He was already tired of the rigamarole of police work, so the fresh energy reinvigorated his early days and long nights. It was rather pointless though, police work, given the people in charge weren’t fans of cracking down on the illegal booze business. It was making too much money under the tables and in handshakes.

The nation was still reeling from the crash of the market nearly two years prior. Any way to get ahead, to stay with your chin above the rising waters, well… what harm is there really in feeding your family? The end justifies the means, right? And Brady didn’t seem to disagree too much with that sentiment.

So when the typically stringent, but otherwise soft spoken and relaxed, Brady began to…devolve into someone a little too myopic, Freeman wasn’t quite sure how to handle him. They’d been rather laissez-faire about the morality of things for so long. They tried to keep violence at a minimum so their fellow citizens could enjoy their city. That was the extent of it. But, Brady was becoming obsessed.

It started normally enough. Brady bringing up a missing husband. Later on, a missing bartender. Soon he was snooping on to other’s cases, convinced something was connecting them.

But, given the times and the character of such people, well, Freeman couldn’t quite understand Brady’s fervor. Sure. Some of them probably ended up under backyards and in the water. Hell, quite a few of them he’d have helped do away once he got the real dirt on them. A conspiracy? Or a mass killer? That seemed implausible at best. There was simply no indication of a grande scheme.

Brady kept pushing. Walking the streets at night with ears open and eyes peeled, for any inkling of what was going on.

He just couldn’t accept that sometimes people leave town or jobs. Very few of them were actually reported by loved ones, even the ones that had them.

Then came along the widow Dupre, watery eyed and shaking about her missing adult son. Who, from what they’d uncovered, was a real piece of work.

Freeman let Brady start his investigation, but as it became clear he was adding it to his pile of random disappearances, Freeman had to step away. He could see the obsession ruining his friend.

At a rare dinner with the families, the stress on Brady’s wife’s face was visible for all to see. She cornered Freeman in the kitchen when he went for more coffee, asking if Brady was stepping out on her or if he truly had been working so hard on something big.

He hardly knew what to say. Neither were true. He’d been working late, but on a wild goose chase.

When he dragged a clean cut and confused woman into the station, Freeman knew he’d really lost the fucking plot.

“She’s his accomplice. I know it. Her fella is the man. I’ve got him fingered.” Brady pointed at you through the closed door. You weren’t listening to their voices in the hall, the name still ringing in your head. The name you'd both sacrificed to keep secret.

Alastor.

Freeman hissed, “You can’t arrest people for knowing a guy! A boogie man at that, Kenny. Come on.”

“I have her confession for prostitution. It’s all clean and by the book. And, I have a witness.” Brady tapped Freeman’s arm with the back of his hand and led him down the hall to another room, “He saw her and her guy throw a body in the river.”

Well, shit.

“You found a body? The Dupre son?” Freeman considered what he’d said. The river? Why the river? Bodies didn’t always make it to the sea. It’d be a sloppy misstep for this supposed murderous mastermind.

Brady sighed, his parade a little rained on. “...No, but I have a witness right there. And, I got the name of her fella. I just need to find which station he’s at and I’m off to the races. I bet you my house this guy’s good for it.”

Ah, so. He had next to nothing. Freeman just nodded and took a calming breath. “Alright, are we starting with the woman or this guy?”

“Oh, for sure her.” Bready turned to open the door, but Freeman shot his hand out to stop him.

“And this is the one who gave you the runaround?” Freeman had heard so much about you already, he wanted to prepare himself for whatever tricky shrew was waiting for him. He followed his partner through the door and took you in fully. Your stare was distant and glassy. You’d been crying and you seemed to be shaking slightly from the cold of the room as fall’s night air slipped in through the window.

You could, reasonably, be his daughter. A similar age for sure, similar build, same hair color. Same penchant for the wrong kinda guy, apparently.

He recalled all of the ways Brady had spoken about you. The image in his head was a bird faced woman with sharp eagle eyes and tight lips. Someone decidedly ugly with a permanent scowl and mischief behind quick glances.

And here was a woman, vulnerable and quite nice to look at it. Hair obviously groomed well when not manhandled by cops, and a rather handsome dress which indicated a good personality by the current standards. The shoulders had flat bows that let their ribbons fall onto your bare shoulders. Feminine. Suitable. Not much skin showing. otherwise. A burlesquer seemed to the kind who didn’t wear clothes often, but he supposed everyone has a work uniform after all. Even the nude dancers. Who was he to judge you for your professional clothing requirements? You were here and modest and that’s what mattered.

He took a seat, sliding the folder Brady had set down into the space in front of him. “I hear you’re not too fond of disclosing your personal information.”

It had been several hours since you’d arrived, and now they chose to grace you with their presence? You’d been tossed into a room and left alone for so long, it seemed more like punishment than bureaucracy.

Brady’s bright blue eyes only get clearer and darker with every ounce of anger you inspired in him. An angry sea churning up violently behind his mean mug. He was practically sneering at you.

“Can you blame me? The men in this city are certifiable. Case in point, this hound you call a cop.” You had the forethought to keep your shoulders pulled inward, gesturing with your chin.

“Detective.” Brady corrected.

“Same thing, jackass.” Eyes rolling, you pushed back against the chair causing the front legs to lift for a second. Returning your glare to him, you honed in on the messy details. You remembered his hair well from that first meeting in front of the cafe. It clearly had become oily and weighed down from less frequent washing. The skin under his eyes was looking dark and thin. “You look like shit, by the way. Should sleep instead of bothering honest performers.”

“Ha, there you are. True colors shining through finally.”

“How was my mom? Not much of a talker.”

“Fu-,” Brady flinched forward, chair squeaking against the linoleum floor. It took a tensing of your arms to keep from openly reacting.

“Ya’ll, enough. Now, don’t be too sour with us. We’re just working off your own words,” Freeman opened the folder to find your confession. It had been typed nice and neat and labeled DOE, JANE. He turned it to you briefly, eyebrows hitching as if to ask if you remembered it. You glanced at it long enough to see the conversation and names and nodded. Yes, you’d had that conversation. Brady must have typed it mostly from memory, you thought, or he had some quick shorthand. He brought it back to face him and as his eyes roamed the sheet, his shoulders stiffened. He wasn’t seeing what he was expecting. “Could you-?,” he motioned for Brady to point out the part of your last conversation that constituted a confession. Brady tapped a line of text.

BRADY - Tell me about the dates Tommy arranged. DOE, JANE - Apparently many of the dancers agreed, got a cut. I had no idea about it until he introduced me to a man who was very forward. I insulted him and ran off. Lost Tommy good money, apparently. BRADY - And who was that? DOE, JANE - S something. Mister Stein? I honestly wasn’t listening much after I realized what was happening. BRADY - And then he knocked you around? DOE, JANE - Yeah. Got me good. BRADY - And… the next date. Last time anyone saw Tommy. Tell me about that. DOE, JANE - Tommy said he’d kill me if I didn’t go. So I did. Promised me he’d stay with me for protection. But as soon as he got his money he left.

Freeman’s head lifted slowly from the paper to look at you over the folder, across the table. Your arms were crossed, makeup smeared and running with long dried tears. Your hair mussed. His head turned with a crawl, weighted down with a steel ball of apprehensive horror, to look at Brady. He was leaning on the table with both elbows, staring at you like you’d busted out his car window and shot his dog.

“Can I speak to you for a moment?” He pushed back, resting his hand on Brady’s shoulder and walking out. In the small room that looked into the interrogation room where the male witness fidgeted, he set the folder and your words down.

He motioned for Brady to close the door behind him. As soon as the latch clicked into place, he smacked the table.

“That isn’t a confession! It’s a fucking victim statement, Kenny.” He looked through the one way glass at the man seated, “And he wrote a witness report?” He gestured with his head, the man Brady called Joseph sat quietly waiting for their return. His clothes were pulling at the seams, his fingernails crusted with dirt.

Brady nodded, “Yeah. He came in yesterday and after he told me what he saw he wrote it down there and signed.” He was pointing to a piece of paper he’d left on the same table Kenny was now trying to use for stability. Trying was the keyword. His disbelief was dizzying.

A small laugh, petulant and bordering annoyed, left his lips. He grabbed a pen, wrote something down, and brushed past him. Freeman marched into the witness room, Brady closely following behind.

“Sir, do me a favor and check I’ve spelt your name properly on this paperwork please.” He held it up. The man looked, found where Freeman's finger was pointing, and nodded.

Freeman looked at Brady with dead eyes, the shutdown of his feelings was an automatic attempt by his body to try and keep from grabbing Brady by the shirt in a fit rage, and turned the paper to reveal the name written to Brady.

Josanna. Written neatly in block letters.

Without breaking eye contact with Brady, “And just refresh my memory, sir, what was your statement in regards to again?”

Joseph cleared his throat, “I saw it happen. Down by the river.”

“Saw what happen?”

“The crime.”

“What crime?”

“The one with the guy and the girl. It’s all in there.”

Freeman shoved the written statement into Brady’s chest, “You have half a second to get to the captain’s office before I do.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“That man can’t even read his own name let alone write. From what I can tell he’s a random homeless you plied with confiscated booze. What is going on with you?” The gray haired man bellowed from his chair, hands resting on a large pot belly.

“What does that matter! It’s an illegal hooch den! Naked dancers! Race mixing! She admitted she-,” Brady was pacing a small three foot by three foot square in front of the desk. Freeman had his arms crossed while seated.

“A victim told you she was assaulted. And I-,” the captain leaned back in his chair, “You know exactly how we feel about the wet spots in this city. The, uh, race thing is another issue but— Kenny, you’re one more rogue act from losing your beat. Do you not get that?”

“Rogue? I’m doing legitimate police work. I’m investigating crime! What the fuck is happening here?!” He stopped pacing long enough wave an apology to his boss for the language.

Freeman sighed, long and heavy. A huff of breath that somehow conveyed his disappointment better than words.

“I decide what constitutes police work and this is not that.” His boss shook his chair side to side, thinking about how to get Brady in line. “It comes straight from the commissioner and the mayor above him. We aren’t to hound the bars under our purview.”

‘I’m not!” He started up pacing again, hands up and open in genuine confused frustration.

“You’re harassing their dancers! Stalking around their establishments at night freaking people out!” He laughed in disbelief, “Her manager is outside now. Had to shut down for the night because of your little show.”

Brady put his hands on his hips and faced away from the captain. His face enough alone to have him dismissed.

“I know she’s involved. I know her guy did it. And I know someone’s killing people. Lots of people.” He said it confidently into the corner of the office.

“Kenny. Enough.” Freeman shook his head and stood to leave.

“One complaint about you and you’re being chained to a desk. Cut her loose, apologize, and go home. I don’t wanna see you anymore tonight. Your freaky little eyes are getting under my skin.” His captain removed his small rounded glasses and rubbed his hands down his face, exasperated his life had come to telling men to stop doing their jobs.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

While you were here anyway, and Brady shooed off Joseph, Freeman decided to speak with you again. He offered you a nod and took Brady’s seat.

It was hard to be friendly, you found. Every minute or so you had to sniffle, nose running long after the tears dried up. Your eyelashes stuck together when you blinked.

“I’m afraid I didn’t get your name, sir.” You sniffled again, hands warming your arms.

Freeman leaned over and offered you his hand, “Detective Eddie Freeman.” You shook it, keeping your hand rather limp to give the appearance of weakness.

“I just-,” he laughed as he set his hand on the table, clicking his ring twice out of habit, “I gotta ask. Did your fella kill Tommy? Are you in some kinda trouble?”

With a scoff and a shake of your head, you found yourself, “No, but I wish he had. What’s the point of being good if people assume the worst of you anyway?” Reaching out for his hand again, you held his large one in both of your smaller ones, “At least if he’d killed him I’d be sure Tommy’s never coming back to keep his promise.”

Your mother always taught you to make yourself small. Remind the people you needed to believe you that you were not a threat. Play the part they always pigeon holed you into. It was easier than fighting the assumptions. There was power in deception.

“Your pal is really ruining my life. Even more than Tommy.” You squeezed, 30% strength.

When you looked up at him, he could only find you to be the image of pitiful girl, “Let me check some things and I’ll have Kenny sending you on your way, miss-?”

“Doe.”

“Right.” His ring rapped against the bright wooden door frame, two times, and your brief time knowing Freeman ended.

The paralysis set in as soon as the door was shut. You could hear Alastor’s name echoing around in your head, the sound so sharp it made fresh tears well. Brady had heard it, of course. It was for nothing. You worked so hard, kept his name off of your tongue despite the way it always felt so good there.

Conjured images of Alastor barging into the police station haunted you. What would he say in anger? Brady wasn’t crazy, he was smart and lucky. Nothing could be worse. Alastor could say anything while mad, and Brady could make conclusions he had no business jumping to.

And then he was there in the room with you, and you had to return to the moment and try to calibrate yourself. Who were you now? He already knew you weren’t the damsel in distress, he knew you weren’t weak and frail. Right?

Maybe you’d just be yourself, like you’d let slipped earlier. Your mouth opened and his hand flew up, “Don’t. Shut it.”

“Excu-”

“I’ve been told to apologize and send you home.”

“Oh? And are you?”

Brady smiled, and for a moment you forgot how scary that should be. “No. You’re a liar and you’re aiding a criminal. But you work in a place I’m not supposed to bother. Luckily for me, Alastor’s work surely isn’t one.” Your eyes rolled. Hearing him say the name was like hearing a dog sing opera. Unsettling and unnatural. Perhaps a little impressive from a distance. Unfortunately you were front row and center.

Time with you felt so rare, he wanted to keep you a little longer but couldn’t think of what to say or do. Briefly he entertained grabbing you and violently shaking you until you confessed. He managed to find the strength to bury that down, mouth opening instead in preparation for words he didn’t have yet.

“Can I go home now?” Rubbing your arms to make it clear how uncomfortable you were, you cut him off like he had you. Not that he had anything to say.

Brady motioned with his thumb down the hall and said, “Your guy isn’t here to pick you up. Funny name by the way. I got a complaint for an Alastor last week. Socked some man for no good reason. Sounds like a violent fella, kinda guy with a temper when someone speaks I’ll of his lady, or fiancée, I’m told…Anyway, dropped the case since the guy wouldn’t give any more information but maybe I should follow up.”

“Are you so sure I have one, a guy that is?” You simply couldn’t admit Alastor was yours. Never. Not for Brady. “No one’s coming for me. No one’s punched anyone for me either. Though, I’m flattered you think I’m worth the charge. Am I free to leave?” The little tug of your lips into a halfhearted grin warmed you. It was thrilling, lying to his face when you both knew the truth.

He didn’t move. He couldn’t let you take this moment from him. He’d made a massive victory in this personal war and your nonchalant attitude was making something in the back of his skull itch. Somewhere beneath his bone. A new sensation.

A brief and violent flash of knocking the smirk off your tear stained face startled him. You noticed him swallow hard, expression shifting from amused to bewildered. From the outside, all you could read was a frightened widening of his eyes.

“Brady…? If you’re waiting for some man to collect me, I’ll be here all night.” Your voice was softer now, while you couldn’t uncover what was happening in his head, you could tell he was in some kind of turmoil.

A man unable to control his face was often a man unable to control his hands.

His legs lifted his body up and dragged him over to the door. He opened it, slowly, before leaning against the wall beside it to ensure you passed him in close quarters. He knew he couldn’t keep you there forever.

Maybe this Alastor was a real rough fellow. So cruel he wouldn’t even care if his dame was in a bind. The kind of man to abandon his closest allies when cornered. Maybe he really wasn’t coming for you. Which was fine, he told himself. He’d be seeing him soon.

Following you out, he took the walk as an opportunity to warn you again.

“This won’t end like you think it will.” He said it too loudly for how close he was to you, “It never does for the women.” He stopped at the station’s front desk and leaned into the glossy wooden counter, “Oh! I almost forgot! Congrats on the engagement.”

Turning to say a harsh good night, you caught yourself and turned back, exiting through the station doors without another word to him. No need for polite pleasantries anymore. The game was well and truly over for you.

“Oh thank god,” Johnny was sitting on the steps of the station and jumped to his feet when you came out, a sight you weren’t expecting. You stopped, confused. He smiled seeing your brows knit and eyes wander past him in search of someone else, “I was going to bail you out but they said there wasn’t any need. Alastor is waiting for you.”

Like a leak in the hull of your iron-sided ship, it seemed the second Ruth so sweetly dripped that name into Brady’s waiting maw the ocean was spilling in. Every time you heard it fall from another person’s mouth the breach in your metal barriers tore wider. If the Titanic could sink in calm weather what luck did Alastor and you have in the tempest of Brady’s fervor?

“Oh…,” you tried to hide the dejection. He sent Johnny? That was smart, but, why did it sting?

Perhaps it was his six sisters, or maybe he was genuinely a good man, but Johnny’s heart ached at the pitiful tone. He leapt up two steps, “He wanted to come! But I told him it was a bad idea. Tempers and all that. Don’t need any more issues for you tonight. Though admittedly he didn’t seem mad, necessarily.”

A slow nod. Johnny told Alastor what to do? Your eyes looked to the left, that was an odd mental image.

“Thanks, Johnny. I need to return to the theater first.” Your hand reached out for his arm and gave it a squeeze, “I appreciate you.”

“Dont mention it. And your bag is with Alastor.” He let his hand come to yours, “He’s kind of a mess, that one.”

You tensed, accidentally pinching his arm in a flit of panic before drawing it back, “Did he drive home like that?”

He shook his head and handed you the card, “He said,” a pause as his eyes rolled up to search for the exact words, “to tell the host you’re there for him. Called it the Golden Dish, but the card doesn’t mention anything like that…. Sorry, I didn’t think to ask more questions. Like I said, he seemed out of sorts.”

You looked down to inspect it, nervous at the sudden introduction of a paper trail. Nodding, you finally took it with both hands. The face was rather plain: an address in the corner with just the number and street, and an interlocked G and D in the center. Turning it over, you found a pink lipstick kiss stained haphazardly across the back and a small squiggle. Your thumb ran over the clipped right bottom corner.

What was the Golden Dish? And who was kissing Alastor’s business cards?

⋅˚₊‧ ଳ⋆Masterlist.ೃ࿔*:･

˖ ݁𖥔.Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult.𖥔 ݁ ˖

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#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel fanfiction #Alastor x reader #alastor #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin alastor #human alastor x reader

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sugoi-writes · 1 day

Text

Joyride - Alastor x Lucifer

Kinktober - Day IV (Car Sex)

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A/N - What a fucking HONOR it is to kick of Day 4 of this prompt with my lovely wives! If you haven't read the first few days, please do so! I'd love to thank @hazelfoureyes @synamartia @fraugwinska @macabr3-barbi3 and @minkdelovely for indulging in this insanity with me 🔥 Oh this will be FUN

Day I Day II Day III

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⚠️Warnings⚠️: Old man yaoi, cursing, dirty talk, thirsty descriptions, Luci in a damn dress, riding/grinding/humping, handjob(kinda?), anal fingering/prep, banter, alcohol consumption, Bottom/Switch Alastor if you squint, edging mention, and... just straight up smut. This is car sex people. MDNI I SWEAR TO CHRIST... Have fun!

🔥VROOM VROOM🔥

꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷

When Alastor arrived at the rendezvous, he hadn't expected the limousine that awaited him. Or, perhaps he should have... This is the King of Hell, after all. The vehicle was an elegant, pristine white with accents of red and gold. Imagery of Eden's vices were lovingly etched into the metallic flourishes with a near-angelic precision. Lucifer’s fixations on apples and serpentine designs were not missed by the Radio Demon… He had to admit: it was a perfect chariot for the prideful ruler of Hell. A chariot he would soon share with him alone.

Alastor dismissed his cane with a flick of his wrist, hands eager to hold onto something else. When a long, pitch and ivory leg emerged from the car, he felt his heart leap into his throat. Alastor was rarely a victim of his carnal urges, but he felt the table shifting as he saw more and more of that delectable skin.

Lucifer Morningstar emerged from the limo in his colors-- a deep, cherry red with golden accents. The opulent, delicate chains that dangled down his bare back could be seen in the tinted windows' reflection. Alastor fought the urge to clear his throat, feeling his pulse hammering away urgently. Has Lucifer always owned this dress?

The fallen angel, temptation incarnate, combed his blackened fingers through his far-too-slick hair. Much like the snake in the Garden of Eden, Lucifer's eyes were lidded with sin and desire. He knew exactly how he looked, relishing his partner's near sheepish reaction.

"You look dapper as always, Mr. Radio Demon,” he practically purred, addressing Alastor as an equal. The flustered sinner was hoping to get more intimate names to tumble from those lips soon enough.

Alastor bows at the waist, taking Lucifer's hand into his own formally. He smiles before pressing the silken flesh to his lips. During this, he maintains his focus on Lucifer’s eyes, and not the valley between his pectorals. Arguably, it was a difficult task for the taller demon.

"Your Majesty, you may call me Alastor tonight. I implore you to." For the moment, Alastor returns the playful, formal tone, knowing that his partner will find it amusing. As if on cue, Lucifer tilts his head curiously, his free hand stifling his chuckle.

"What a change of pace... Something must have come over you," Lucifer supplied, sighing as Alastor starts a tender ascent up his arm. Alastor's lips didn't rest the entire journey, talking between his strategic kisses.

"Well, 'Alastor' sounds far sweeter when you're wailing in ecstacy, Your Grace." Alastor's rebuttal was so brief, yet so devastating to the demon before him. As if Lucifer wasn't already mentally shredding his new, black blazer to ribbons…

Lucifer's breath stutters as Alastor's kisses carve sensual patterns up his neck, tempting the temptress to give in to a moan. Alastor forgot that they were in public with prying eyes, it seemed...

A fist full of hair forces Alastor to halt in his tracks, a breathy reply ghosting his cheek.

"Then you must call me Lucifer tonight, Al... I'd rather hear that than the list of royal bastardizations you've cooking up..."

A wolfish grin presses against Lucifer's pulse, making the fallen angel's heart stir once more," As you wish, Lucifer." Alastor, ever the gentleman, untangles himself from the breathless devil swiftly. Immediately after, he swings the door of the limo open, gesturing towards the interior with a dramatic flare.

"But please, do crawl in... Wouldn't want you to catch a cold from your... Interesting choice of garments."

Lucifer snickers, revealing that his dress has not one, but two side slits. As he makes a show of crawling in, Alastor's eyes can't help their wandering to the devil’s pert rump," Only if you come crawling after me, Bambi Boy~"

See, at this very moment, Alastor is a simple man. And he follows the requests of his Lord without hesitation. He is nothing if not an eager man; ready to please.

🩸🩸🩸

Alastor can't help marveling over the little things. Limos were a luxury rarely extended to people of lower classes, like himself. He and his mother were as low as they could be on Earth, humble and grateful for what they have. While he tried to not oogle at the niceties of the cab, he couldn't hide the interest that sparkled in his eyes.

A phone, with a direct line to the driver-- for emergencies, or requests to stop, one could assume. Conveniently, there was a sliding window, should the phone be obsolete. In all of their banter, Lucifer insisted that 'it’s basically soundproof'. Had Lucifer wanted to test that theory, Alastor wondered.

Towards the front of the cabin, dozens of glasses for champagne and other spirits sat on a bar cart– conveniently built into the side of the vehicle. The center console just below the window acted as a cooler, stocked with lovely vintages and chasers (he even spotted a brandy bottle or two--how very thoughtful of the King...)

The windows were tinted, of course, the seats a red, luxurious leather. And for comfort, the lights in the back were dimmed, bathing the pair in a low, sultry light. For all intents and purposes, this was the perfect set up to a steamy tryst… One that even the Radio Demon could see coming. Alastor was surrounded by wealth, comfort and good company... A combination he wasn't used to, but one he welcomed enthusiastically.

Lucifer had been meeting him finger-to-finger with whiskey the entire drive, the two of them laughing and honking like a pair of geese at the smallest reference. Alastor hadn't remembered the last time he had this much fun and let loose, already feeling the delicious effects of his drinks settle in. He had to admit: the dingy hotel bar was a far cry from the back of Lucifer's limousine. He felt justified in spending his time so earnestly with him, and felt just as eager to pursue the tryst that crossed his mind more than once.

Alastor felt light as a feather, and yet as hearty as molten lava. He was one of the few to get this luxury; one of the first outside of the Morningstar Family to grace the seats of Lucifer’s limousine. Alastor wanted to leave an impression… and who could blame him? This was just as much his limo as it was Lucifer’s, in his mind. This particular ride would be one the Lord of the Hells would never forget... A 'joyride', as he's heard it called before. And so, with many fingers of whiskey making his heart flutter, Alastor enacted his plan.

He hadn't anticipated the road bump when he tried to lean over, his longer, spindly body colliding into Lucifer's suddenly. The latter had clipped his head on the way down, but still managed to keep his glass of whiskey aloft. A pained groan was shared between the two, before they settled into their new position.

When Lucifer looked up to wide, near hysterical eyes, a grin stretched across his pale face mischievously. He let his hand rest against Alastor's broad chest, his other still dangling midair.

"First time in a car, I reckon?" Lucifer needles boldly, feeling a leg press between his own. Alastor levels him with a hard stare, softened by the blush rapidly coloring his cheeks.

"And if it was? Would you feel so honored?" Alastor bit back, his hands confidently caging Lucifer's head. Alastor did his best to keep his balance as the limo hopped and bobbed along, not missing the way that Lucifer's body rippled beneath him. He wanted to see those same ripples uninterrupted by the luxurious fabric on his skin...

"I would be flattered, yes! For saving something so special for me, Bambi~"

"Please don't call me that--"

Lucifer manages to pull his leg up, pressing it to Alastor's chest before kicking him off. He sends the startled demon flying onto his back, leaving him sputtering from shock. Thankfully, he didn't shred the ceiling with his antlers on his descent. However… he wasn't so lucky with the door, the very tips of his points sinking into the doorframe.

Lucifer straddled Alastor's hips with his shimmering thighs, chugging the rest of his drink before slinging the empty glass away. Alastor flinched as it shattered right against the window that divided the cabin from the front, ears flat against his skull. Was he TRYING to get the driver's attention?!

"Why don't I show you how it's done then, hmm~? I'll give you the ride of your life~" Lucifer offers, mirroring Alastor's classic, amused head tilt.

The sinner bit his lip, suppressing the groan building in his throat. The prospect was one he wasn't disinterested in… He struggled as Lucifer settled over his groin, grinding his soft hind against his lap. It appeared he wasn't the only one struggling to 'keep it in his pants'... Err, dress?

Alastor's hands grasp Luci's waist possessively, resisting the urge to bring him harder against his growing cock.

"H-Have it your way," Alastor scoffs, head rolling back as Lucifer's rocking becomes a harsh bounce– accursed speed bumps! And curse the car door!

Alastor’s antlers created deep gouges into the frame, rendering him completely still. In this position, he is quite vulnerable, his tail wagging subconsciously under his body. And yet, the element of being ‘trapped’ somehow made the heat in his cheeks travel straight to his cock.

“ ‘You sure you want it my way~?” Lucifer teased, bringing his hips in a tight circle. This act alone had Alastor keening, biting his lip to silence himself. Of course I do, Alastor thought.

“Just get on with it, before I change my mind!” He jabs, knowing damn well that Lucifer saw straight through him. Lucifer grins as he braces a hand against the ceiling, the other fiddling with Alastor's trousers. "With pleasure, Alastor~"

Alastor could hardly conceal his desire, the booze unraveling his resolve to be stoic or guarded. His cock throbbed at the use of his name in such a sensual context, aching to be freed.

Lucifer unclasps Alastor's belt with ease, tongue running across his pointed teeth greedily. Even as the vehicle rocked about, Lucifer hardly swayed. Instead, he used the unpredictability as a reason to press his body closer. The Radio Demon sighed with relief when his cock was released, his flushed, heated tip already damp with precum.

Lucifer whistles lewdly at the sight, looking to Alastor with a cocky smirk,” Absolutely divine…” the former angel mused, leaving Alastor unable to form a coherent thought.

When Lucifer resettles over his lap, Alastor is struck with a startling realization: no underwear. Not a single fucking thing to keep Lucifer concealed. Had Lucifer simply willed it away, or had he been garment-less this entire time? The prospect made Alastor buck up into Lucifer, a breathy sigh fumbling from his lips.

“Such an eager boy… I'll be sure to reward my little doe soon enough~”

Alastor hardly had a moment to think before Lucifer's cock pressed to his. Thereafter, a warm hand wrapped firmly around both shafts. Alastor jolts, gasping as his partner moves against him. Lucifer keeps his hand ridgid with a delicious, all consuming pressure, watching his favorite sinner tremble below him. Experimentally, Lucifer begins to stroke the both of them, getting the Radio Demon to sigh and relax. The large hands holding Lucifer's waist act as an anchor, despite Alastor’s desire to move. His hips begin rocking languidly to watch Lucifer's pace, seeking even more friction than the bit provided by him. A shared, wanton moan hangs in the air, both sinners feeling their hearts quicken.

Lucifer glides against the Radio Demon faster, the bumps in the road making his pace haphazard but heavenly," S-See? Told you I'd show-- you-- aaaaah good time~ Aaahn!"

Alastor wasn't up for refuting the statement, especially when he was focusing on staying quiet," Are you quite certain we c-cahh-- hah-- c-can't be heard, cher?"

Lucifer laughs breathlessly, grinning," Let him hear... The driver could use the change in pace-!! Hah!!!"

Alastor grinds harsher against Lucifer’s cock, claws threatening to rip his dress for the horrendous suggestion.

"Sh-Shut your maw... This is too--nnn-- too lewd-- What if he reported this? What would the papers s-say?"

Lucifer mewls as he tightens his grasp, eyes threatening to roll back as his hips move with Alastor's effortlessly," Nnnngh-- uhh, lucky demon~?" He quips, laughing breathlessly as Alastor smacks his thigh. The quake that travels through his skin has Alastor craning his head back, a hand flying to the car door to keep his antlers from sinking further in.

"Sh-Shit!" was his only reply, ears pinned back as Lucifer began rocking with intent, the precum produced by their members making the glide unbearably wet and smooth. His hand, now stationary, focused on keeping the pressure tight and warm; a perfect hole for them to slide into.

Lucifer's lopsided grin portrays his ecstacy, the sweat clinging to his forehead making a heated descent down his temple.

"At a loss for words, huh~?" He teased, his hips swiveling lecherously. The grunt he's rewarded with is just as telling, his partner's eyes slamming shut from the bliss. Lucifer doesn't seem to care, bringing his hips forward in a rapid succession of thrusts.

"I should make you cum like this, y'know... Make us paint these dull seats with your cum--" Lucifer croaks, feeling a finger teasing the tight rim of his ass.

"I'd rather have it here," Alastor groaned," Pl-Please-- this is is torture," Alastor gasps, feeling Lucifer's cock kick against his own at the idea. Begrudgingly, Lucifer couldn’t argue with that, knowing that he's essentially edging the two of them at the same time.

"Nnnn, you're no fun~" Lucifer muses, letting go of their cocks for a moment," But you better make it worth my while, Bambi~"

Alastor smirks, brows raised," I've never heard complaints..." He retorted, mentally finishing his sentence: not from you, at least.

🩸🩸🩸

When Lucifer allowed Alastor to stretch and probe his ass, he switched arms, the one formerly bracing the ceiling falling to Alastor's hip. He arched his back as harshly as he could, offering his ass to his partner easily. The stimulation from behind made his hips buck, cock absentmindedly grinding against Alastor's. The faster and wider the Radio Demon’s fingers fucked, the harsher Lucifer's hips moved to meet them. Alastor panted below Lucifer, eyes nearly crossed as the pleasure kept building higher and higher. His hot breath made the heat in Lucifer's cheeks feel mild, the Demon King cursing through clenched teeth. He marveled at the sight of Alastor's mouth hanging open, Lucifer leaning over to get a better view of the debauched look.

"Mmm~ Is my doe going to cum~?" Lucifer moans, his tongue swiping across his mouth, as if coaxing him to kiss him. Alastor flinched, his brow hardening," This buck-- hah-- is about to shut you up--" Alastor yaps, yanking Lucifer down by the neck. He heard the familiar slapping and squelching of his hand hastily fucking into Lucifer's ass, kissing the squirming demon desperately to hide another mewl. He wasn't the only one struggling not to cum.

As Alastor continued to feverishly kiss him, he teased Lucifer between each disconnect. A tongue sliding across his lip, a gentle nip just to the right of his mouth… anything to make Lucifer sigh and pant again. The temptee just became the tempter!

"I should have you cum like this... You're a quivering mess from just my hands--"

"A-And your cock-- G-Good God!" Lucifer sung, drooling from the dual stimulation. Alastor chuckles darkly, leaning up to capture Lucifer's neck with a gentle bite," It's just the two of us down here, cher~,” he admonishes, regaining some of his footing with the other demon.

Lucifer practically squeaks as Alastor finds his prostate, the bullying internally amplifying his impending orgasm. Close. Lucifer was getting extremely close, and it was plain as day to the other sinner.

"Cum for me," Alastor pleaded,"C-Cum for me, please-- so this buck can fuck you properly."

The triggering phrase was all it took for Lucifer to lose himself to the white-hot madness, his head thrown back in rapture. His hips didn't stop even as Alastor's fingers slowed down, his vision blurred with hot tears. When he felt the press of Alastor's cock to his wanting hole instead of his fingers, he bit back a wail of overstimulation.

"F-Fuck... We may be late for the reservation-- nnnnghh– Alastor, listen to me!"

The Radio Demon’s static fills the air, a conniving laugh haunting the heavy air of the cabin.

"I intend to hold my end of things: I'm going to fuck you properly. Dinner be damned when something this delicious is in my lap--"

When Lucifer wailed Alastor's name, fully impaled on his member, Alastor couldn't help calling out to his lover in tandem. Their bodies melded together once more, their original plans a distant memory in their lust-driven minds.

Bottom Banner made by the lovely @synamartia 🔥

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stattikdemon · 2 days

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Kinktober 2024 - Day 3 - Lingerie

Hello my darlings 🥰🥰

Welcome to day 3 of this amazing kinktober.

Today I bring you a big one, a 2845 word long one in fact 😅 I must admit I had this idea brewing for a while but I was slightly lazy to actually write it.

This is a bit different from my usual, as this is my first Alastor x Reader fic, so I hope you like it 🥰

As always, constructive criticism is always welcome

MDNI +18

Angel walked around, choosing a few pieces for himself as you walked right behind him, not really watching where you were going. Suddenly Angel stopped in his tracks, making you bump into him and almost falling on your ass. "Angel, you okay?" - you asked, concerned. Angel picked something up and shoved it in front of you. "You have to try this, like, right now!" - he said, pushing you to the fitting room. He closed the curtain behind you before you even got the chance to answer, and only now did you realize what it was that he wanted you to try on. It was a two piece lingerie in black with red accents, and although you would never wear something like this, it was extremely beautiful, and it actually looked comfortable. "Fine, Angel, I'll try it. For once, you actually got good taste" - you chuckled while removing your clothes. "Since when don't I have good taste? You're the one who's in love with the Radio Demon, now that's a very bad taste" - his tone was mocking. "Oh, c'mon, he's not that bad. And you're the one talking, I see the way you look at Husk, or you're going to tell me there's nothing there?" - you mocked. "I wish, but I don't think he's into me. We're friends, sure, but I'm not sure if it'll ever be something else" - his voice sounded slightly sad. "I'm not so sure, he also looks at you with lovestruck eyes, he just does it when you're not looking" - you said while finishing putting on the lingerie. You looked at the mirror, the pierces suited you perfectly, the bra hugged your boobs perfectly, the top part had black lace that let your nipples show, and the bottom part was actually comfortable, not letting your ass show too much and definitely didn't slip up your ass cheeks. You never thought you'd like to see yourself in something like this, you actually thought you looked sexy for once. "You okay in there, toots? You've been quiet for some time" - Angel asked, his voice worried. "Yeah. I must say Angel, sometimes you really know what you're doing" - you said, your eyes still on your silhouette in the mirror. "You really liked it? And here I thought you were a blushing virgin." - Angel chuckled. "Oh, shut it, Angel" - you rolled your eyes.

Pentagram City was buzzing with life. A few sinners being eaten by some cannibals, a few explosions in the distance, and the annoying sounds of VoxTek's ads around you. But you loved it here, and you definitely wouldn't change it for anything. You got by since the beginning, but ever since you moved to the Hazbin Hotel, you finally found a family and people that you can truly trust. You were friendly with everyone at the hotel since the beginning, and they happily accepted you into their family. Angel was your best friend, and you often talked about everything, from his work to your sorry excuses to be around Alastor. Your crush on the Radio Demon was a common subject between you and Angel, he thought you looked cute all flustered up when you were around him. Yes, he was a walking pole of red flags, but damn if you wouldn't climb that damn pole like a tree if he let you. And you definitely tried your best to be around him as much as you could without being suspicious. And you were definitely shocked when Charlie proposed that you become his secretary, and even more shocked as he accepted, with the precept that because he was an Overlord he could use your help because he was busy. So you spent a lot of time around him, organizing his office, checking the accounting of the hotel, ordering things, and pretty much anything he would ask of you. Today though, you had your morning off, so you and Angel decided to go on a shopping spree. Actually, you were catching up to Angel as he was on a shopping spree. You always dressed modestly, loose pants and t-shirts, nothing really fancy, and definitely nothing glamorous. You really didn't care about your appearance, as long as you were comfortable and didn't get much attention to yourself. But it didn't stop Angel from trying to get you to try a few revealing clothes, especially as you walked into a lingerie store.

You got back to the hotel after a few more stores. You still can't believe you actually brought lingerie, because you were definitely not going to use it soon. You got to your room and washed it on the bathroom sink, you definitely wouldn't let anyone know you owned something like this, so it was safer to just wash it yourself than to let Niffty find it out. You hung it up to dry above your shower, and a few hours later you folded it and saved it in your drawer.

A few days passed, and you couldn't stop thinking about the lingerie. You actually felt good wearing it, so why was it such a problem to wear it like it was normal underwear? So, with a newfound determination, you got up from your bed to the drawer and pulled out the lingerie. You undress from your pajamas and put the lingerie on, feeling comfortable in it, just like that day at the store. You looked at yourself in the mirror and decided to do something you never thought you'd do. You took off your phone, and you laid on your bed, making yourself comfortable before opening the camera app and taking a few suggestive selfies. You feel extremely sexy in it, and the photos looked great as well, and you felt confident in your body for the first time in some time. But the buzzing from a message brought you back. It was Alastor asking when you would be down. You still couldn't believe it was so easy to convince him to get a phone, especially after you showed him that he could call you or send a message at any time and you'd be available right away instead of looking for each other. Everyone knows how much he is against technology, so Charlie was excited when he agreed because you were able to convince him. You decided to keep the lingerie on and go dressed quickly before making your way downstairs to have breakfast.

You delivered the papers to Charlie and went to the bar. Husk and Angel were already there drinking. You happily joined them in their happy banter, drinking something light as you didn't want to get drunk. Alastor arrived an hour later, his grin getting wider as he walked closer to you. "Dear, I wish to have a word with you in private. Now." - he squeezed your shoulder, it wasn't a suggestion. You panicked as you started to think about what you could have done to anger him that much as he guided you through the corridors. You truly thought he was going to bring you to his Radio Tower and broadcast your screams as he tortured you, but he led you to his room. You've never been in his room before, so you were amazed by the beautiful scenery at the back of his room. You didn't have much time to enjoy it though, as he pushed you inside, and in a smooth motion, he closed the door, pinned you against it, and you heard the lock turning. "Alastor, wha…" - you tried to speak, but he interrupted you. "You think you can rile me up and nothing would happen to you?" - the static on his voice was threatening. "Rile you up? What did I do?" - you were scared and confused, the tears pooling in your eyes. "Don't play coy with me now, you really think I wouldn't notice the photo you sent me? But the real question is why you sent it. So, answer me" - he was getting taller now, his antlers fully out. You would've thought he looked hot, if you weren't scared for your life right now. "Photo? The only photos I sent to you today were the documents. If I did something wrong, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you" - the tears were running down your face now.

The rest of the day was normal, filled with paperwork and more paperwork, and Charlie wanted you to review a few papers for the Hotel. Alastor also let you know that he would go out in the afternoon, so you were going to spend the afternoon on your own organizing things. A few hours into the afternoon and you were done with your work, the last thing you needed was to send a few documents for Alastor to review, and you were free. So you took pictures of the documents and proceeded to send them to Alastor:

You: "Hey, I just need to review this real quick, and I am done for the day."

You: send the photos of the documents

Alastor: "They all seem to be corrected, darling."

You: "Alright, thank. I'll be off now."

Alastor shrinked down to his normal size - "My, my! You truly have no idea what I’m talking about, do you?" - he reached for his pocket, taking out his phone. You wiped the tears from your eyes, relief washing over you as you realized this was all just a misunderstanding. But when he showed you said photo, you froze. You accidentally sent him one of the selfies you took this morning, your nipples clearly showing through the lace. His grin was getting wider as he realized a new fear was setting in your eyes. "Alastor, I swear I…" - he interrupted you again. "May I know to whom you were going to send these pictures?" - he asked with a slight hint of annoyance. "What? No one! Why would I send that to anyone?" - you huffed at his comment. "Well, you took them for some reason, I just wish to know why you took them in the first place" - he said, turning around and waiting for your answer. "Well… I… I just… felt good about myself. I feel pretty in it, and it's comfortable, so I decided to wear it and take some photos." - you felt your cheeks turning red and turned your face away, feeling ashamed to admit this in front of your crush. You didn't notice Alastor getting closer, he took your chin off in his hand, forcing you to look at him—"Can I see it?". Your eyes widened - "What?" - you asked, unsure if you heard him right. "I know you're wearing it, and I’d love to take a look. If you don’t mind, of course, darling" - his smooth voice made you blush even more, you were sure you were completely red at this point. You slowly brought your hands to the hem of your sweatshirt, shily sliding it up until you took it off, letting it fall on the floor. You felt slightly exposed and didn't dare to look Alastor in the face, too ashamed as how aroused you were getting. You hear him chuckle lightly—"beautiful."—you heard him before you felt his breath on your neck - "tell me if you want me to stop". You lightly nodded, turning your head slightly to the side to give him access.

You felt his lips on your neck, every kiss sending a jolt of electricity down your body. Your hands instinctively reached for his collar, pushing him closer to you, his warmth against your skin making you shiver. He captured your lips in his, the kiss getting more erratic by the second. "Grab on" - he demands between kisses, and you wrapped your arms around his neck, while he traced his hands down your ass and around your legs, lifting you up with ease and bringing you to his bed. He let you down gently, your cheeks still flustered from the arousal you were feeling. He placed his hands on either side of your hips, slowly trailing down to your trousers and easily unbuttoning them, helping you remove them completely. He was looking at you, his eyes trailing every inch of your body as he undid his bowtie and removed his jacket, discarding them to the floor. He sat between your legs, his claw tracing down your torso, leaving light scratches on your skin - "Red truly does suit you, darling". You sat up, your face close to his - "Can I do it?" - you asked, pointing to his chest with your eyes. He nodded, and you reached up to the buttons of his t-shirt, his face nuzzling in your neck again, making you softly moan. You could feel his breathing getting faster in your neck, and you tried to hurry up, and as you reached down, you decided to start working on his belt as well. When you finally unclasped the belt, he lifted his head and kissed you feverishly, pushing you to lay down as you traced your arms up and removed his t-shirt. He undid the rest of his pants, his member already hard inside his boxers. You slid them down, his tip already coated in precum, and you start pumping him lightly, a low grunt escaping his mouth as he closed his eyes and leaned back. You sat up again and kissed him, a moan escaping your lips as you kept pumping him faster. You bit his lip lightly, a louder grunt left his throat, and he pushed you down, his antlers had grown and his eyes were turning dark, but the sight of him losing control was only leaving you more aroused. "Alastor… I want you… Please…" - you pleaded, sliding your pants to the side, exposing your entrance.

He didn't waste any time inserting himself inside you, a loud moan escaping your throat as he buried himself to the hilt, your juices coating your already wet underwear. He trusted into you like a wild animal, each thrust hitting your cervix in a painful but pleasuring way. You swear you were seeing heaven, his antlers were getting bigger, and he bit your neck, the pain and pleasure mixing in your head as you feel your orgasm building up. You moaned his name again and again, your hands shot to his hair, pushing him to your lips as you felt yourself coming undone under him. He forcefully lifted his head up, looking down at you - "Cum, I want everyone to hear how good I'm making you feel". That was enough to make you cum, your walls spasming around his dick, you scream in pleasure as he slows down to help you ride your high. He waits until your eyes gain focus on him, his eyes are crimson again, but his antlers are fully out still. "Wow, that was…" - he interrupts you. "I'm not done with you, darling" - he chucked before suddenly turning you on your stomach, propping your ass up, and burying himself completely inside you again, making you moan loudly. You were extremely sensitive, your walls pulsating around his cock as he trusted himself harshly, the new angle making his tip touch your g-spot every time he buried himself inside you. You were a moaning mess, any coherent thought long gone from your brain as he thrust himself into you at a frantic rhythm, chasing his own high. He grabbed a fistful of your hair and pulled you to him—"Come undone for me again, darling. Scream my name" - the static on his voice thrilled you even more, and with a few more rough thrusts, you came again, his name leaving your lips as you screamed. You felt his dick twitch inside you, his warm cum filling you up while you spasmed around him. You both laid down, waiting for both your high to subdue while he snuggled his head in your back.

You turned around to him and snuggled your face on his chest, his heartbeat was still fast, but it gave you a certain sense of security - "Can I tell you something?" - your voice was strained from your screaming. "Well, of course! We're already here, after all" - he chuckled. "I've had the biggest crush on you for some time now, and I didn't know how to tell you. So, in a way, I'm glad things happened this way." - you smiled, but you still couldn't look at him. He grabbed your chin softly, slowly lifting your head to look at him - "Since we're in a sharing mood, I must confess, I've been wanting to court you for quite some time. My earlier actions were far from gentlemanly, so I do apologize for that. But if you'll allow me, I'd love the chance to court you properly." - he said, his radio filter not present. "I'd love that" - you smiled at him before he pulled you closer to a passionate kiss.

#alastor smut #alastor fic #kinktober 2024 #hazbin hotel smut #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel fic #alastor #hazbin hotel fanfiction #alastor x you #hazbin alastor smut #hazbin hotel alastor x reader

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contumacious-arcadia · 1 day

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For anyone who reads What A Soul Can Accomplish or The Metamorphosis, I'm very sorry that I haven't put out chapters in the last few days. I am bipolar, and I'm struggling to get past a pretty bad episode right now. I hope to put out new chapters as soon as humanly possible (I generally stick to a chapter per day writing schedule, so I feel INSANE levels of guilt for letting WASCA slip for... I honestly don't know how long. I think it may be a full week since I dropped a chap on that fic) but I really can't be sure when I'll be back to stability.

I probably "could" write chaps for each fic right now, but I doubt they would be any good or amke any logical sense at all and I just don't want to ruin all the work I've put in so far.

I hope you understand and I hope people are still interested in reading my work when I can get the next chapters out.

I'm sorry.

#WASCA fic #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel fanfiction #radioapple #hazbin fanfic #appleradio #hazbin alastor #alastor x lucifer #fanfiction

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emiimagination · 2 days

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Pregnant Lucifer Week

Howdy everyone!

As you may know, there will soon be Pregnant Lucifer Week ^^ when I found out about it, I started writing a fiction for this occasion.

This fiction will follow the one-shot "The Rainbow After the Rain" AND the Hazbin Hotel series ^^ So it will be Lucifer's second child.

However, I would need an opinion regarding day 6 Labor/Newborn.

Thank you in advance for your help 😄

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel au #hazbin lucifer #lucifer morningstar #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin hotel charlie #lucifer is pregnant #pregnant lucifer #pregnant lucifer week 2024 #pregnant lucifer week #radioapple #appleradio #hazbin hotel fanfiction #lucifer x alastor #hazbin hotel fankid

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alastorss · 8 months

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⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

Alastor's antlers are embarrassingly, pathetically, unbearably sensitive.

He can't for the life of him figure out why—it's not like any of the other transfigured creatures wandering around the underworld were made this way. Most other animal-like sinners don't seem to care about or even acknowledge their characteristics.

Yet here he is, purposefully hiding them away just so that no one will discover his terrible weakness. Oh, what he would give to be like the others if only to ignore their incessantly uncomfortable presence on his head.

Perhaps it was a curse from heaven that made him this way, or karma that he was repaying from his life. Either way, he can't stand being touched.

At least, that's what he thought.

There's no malicious intent behind your hands, no glint in your eye that makes the primal instincts in his head scream at him to melt into the shadows. You're as gentle as can be, fingers running delicately along the intricacies of his antlers and stopping just at the ends of them.

"They're beautiful," you whisper with your eyes blown wide. Your shoulders rise and fall with each rapid breath, probably from the adrenaline of standing so close to an Overlord like this. And Alastor, no less.

Your reliable hotelier. Your first real friend in the hotel. The one whose smile cannot be trusted.

But for some reason, you can't shake the feeling that he's looking at you with pure, genuine appreciation even if his smile is a little wonky.

"Why, thank you, darling!"

He jerks away from you quick as the wind, standing tall once again and towering over you. His expression has morphed into something more strained—you can tell by the way his face creases up as his eyes narrow.

He was the one who decided to invade your personal space while the two of you were arguing. He just didn't think that you would be so bold as to get distracted by his antlers and have the gall to reach out to touch them.

The worst part? The absolute worst part of it all is that no one in all the time he's been in Hell has been gentle with him like that.

Add that to the list of things he despises. Or likes. You're confusing him now.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

You have some nerve, he thinks.

Your hands have found a new home resting atop his head, with your fingers combing through his hair and tracing up and down the curve of his antlers.

It becomes a nightly routine—him on the barstool or sitting in front of the piano and you standing behind him with your fingers tangled in his hair and your chin on his head, perched right between the horns. Others in the hotel have started to raise a brow, but you don't seem to care.

So when you finally decide to break routine, sitting on the opposite end of the couch from him, his eye twitches.

There isn't even an audience tonight, everyone else already tucked into bed save for Husk behind the bar who's too busy with a bottle to care. The silence between you is heavy as lead.

"Is something the matter?" Alastor finally abruptly asks, eyes narrowed at you from the side. You shift uncomfortably.

"Why would something be the matter?"

He's not in the mood for games right now. "This is the first time you've sat away from me in months," he observes.

You look at him, surprised by his hostility over this. "Well, Lucifer told me that you don't like—"

"Lucifer," he interrupts, head now whipping to the side so he can fully glare at you. "Knows nothing."

You blink at him, stunned. With the way he's acting, he almost seems... annoyed that you've decided to stop being so handsy?

Silence overcomes you again as you just stare at each other, completely at a loss of words. Alastor finally realizes his snappiness and composes himself once more, exhaling through his teeth.

His smile softens at you, missing its usual edge. You know him like this the best—head in your lap and antlers exposed. It's familiar to you in a way that it could never be to anyone else. At least, you hope that's true.

"He knows nothing," the radio demon says one more time for good measure, eyes drifting shut under the weight of your hands.

Alastor has never liked to be touched before. But maybe there is a first time for everything, and maybe the safety of your touch brings him enough ease that you're the first he admits he can tolerate.

His smile says it all. He's content like this, even if he would deny it with his chest if you ever told anyone else.

"Okay," you breathe. "I believe you."

#alastor #alastor x reader #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel fanfic #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin x reader #alastor fanfic #alastor fanfiction #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor x you #alastor headcanons #hazbin hotel headcanon #alastor fluff #alastor hazbin hotel #faye's thoughts — ☁

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redvexillum · 2 days

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Y/N: Alastor! Look! I didn't know Hell has pumpkins! We should carve pumpkins together!

Alastor: Hmm, well then, I suppose I can carve...[his grin stretches until his lips split through his cheeks] ...a warning to our enemies into mine.

Y/N: ...Or...maybe you could carve a smiley face?

Alastor: [Sighing, he tuts at you] My dear, I assure you, my enemies will not fear a smiley face...unless...[With a dark grin, he melds into the shadows, taking one of the pumpkins with him]

Y/N: Unless what? Alastor? Unless what?!

Vox's Assistant: Sir, you have a special delivery? From your... [she squints her eyes trying to read the handwritten note] "Old Pal?"

Vox: What? [He swivels his chair around, his one eye already turning into a pattern of hypnotic circles]

The box was dripping of some sort of liquid and it suspiciously smells of...pumpkins?

(*whispers* Yes, this is Sunshine and Vox from my story "Mandatory Overtime")

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voxslays · 1 day

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Autumn Breeze~

Featuring >>> Adam x Reader; In which the reader doubts Adam’s abilities, and he has to show them just how good he is…

Warnings >>> AFAB! Reader, Adam Being Adam, Adam’s a Misogynist, Beach Smut, Dub-con?? It was a bright fall day, and you were walking on one of heaven's beautiful, golden beaches. The rays of sunshine beaming down on you, casting a golden light, while the autumn breeze carried leaves past you. Adam was walking alongside you. Even he couldn't miss out on a beautiful fall morning on the beach. Adam, with his broad chest puffed out, waded into the shallow water, turning to face you. "Alright, Sugartits," He said with a smirk, "Catch me if you can!"

You smirk, “Is this a competition?” You ask, your tone filled with cockiness and pride. "Everything's a competition when I'm around, Wifey." Adam chuckled, his wings rustling behind him as he flexed his muscles, showing off. His smirk widened. “We aren't even dating.” You point out the obvious. Adam threw his head back and laughed, his voice echoing across the empty beach. "And whose fault is that, Sugartits?" he said, his laughter subsiding. "I've been trying to woo you since we were both newly created."

You roll your eyes. "Whatever," Adam muttered, pushing off from the shore and swimming out further. He surfaced a short distance away, his hair slicked back and water dripping from his wings. "Come on in, the water's fine," he called out, his voice mocking. You wade into the water and look around. The golden rays of Heaven’s sun beam down upon the water, giving it a golden glow as the leaves from the nearby trees are carried by the autumn breeze and float on top of the water.

Adam watched you enter the water with a playful glint in his eye. "You know," he taunted, "For an angel, you're not very good at...anything." His wings fluttered behind him, sending droplets flying. "I mean, look at me. First man, original equipment..." He says cockily. “Excuse me…?” You say giving him a chance to take back what he just said. "You heard me, Sugartits." Adam grinned wider, clearly reveling in the chance to provoke you. "I'm the ultimate specimen. The pinnacle of creation. And you...you're just...you." He splashed water at you playfully, his wings shimmering in the sunlight.

"Aw, did I hurt your delicate feelings?" Adam mocked, circling you in the water. "Face it, angel. No matter how hard you try, you'll never compare to my raw, unbridled masculinity." He flexed his wings for emphasis, the muscles rippling beneath his skin. “And this is why we aren't dating.” You snap back, clearly upset. Adam laughed heartily, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Oh, come on," he cajoled, "I'm just messing with you. Besides, dating is overrated. We could just… skip to the good part."

“No.” You finally put your foot down. "And why not?" Adam pouted dramatically, his lower lip jutting out. "I'm irresistible, I'm telling you. The sexiest devil in all the realms." He waggled his eyebrows suggestively. "Just give in, angel. Let me rock your world." You roll your eyes. “As if you could.” Adam's expression darkened, his eyes narrowing. "You doubt me?" he growled. "Well, prepare to eat your words, because I promise you, Sugartits, once you do it with me, you will never go back."

With a sudden burst of speed, Adam darted forward in the water and grabbed you around the waist, pulling you close. "Just one kiss," he murmured, his breath hot against your lips. "If you can resist, I'll back off. But if you can't..." His grin turned predatory. His lips crashed against yours, demanding and insistent. Adam's hands tangled in your hair, holding you in place as he devoured your mouth. His wings wrapped around you, trapping you against his chest. He kissed you with all the passion and charisma he possessed, determined to break down your resistance.

Adam’s hands roamed over your body possessively, trying to ignite a fire within you. He grinded his hips against yours, leaving no doubt about his arousal. "See?" he murmured against your lips, "I'm irresistible." You scoff. “I've seen better.” Adam's eyes flashed with anger, but he quickly replaced it with a smirk. "Oh, feisty, are we?" He stood up, pulling you with him, and tossed you over his shoulder. "Fine, if you won't give in willingly, I'll just have to convince you otherwise." Adam quickly walks out of the ocean water and carries you to a secluded cave, far away from prying eyes. He unceremoniously dumped you onto the sand. "Now," He says, his voice low and dangerous, "Let's see if you can maintain that attitude with me between your thighs."

Adam loomed over you, his eyes burning with a fiery intensity. He reached out and grabbed your ankles, spreading your legs apart, while quickly ripping off your swimsuit. He knelt between your thighs, his hands resting on your hips. "You're going to regret those words," he growled, before burying his face between your legs. Adam's tongue delved into your folds, licking and sucking with a fervent passion. He gripped your hips tightly, his fingers digging into your flesh as he devoured you. He growled against your core, the vibrations sending shivers through your body. "You taste like heaven," He muttered softly.

His hands slid under your backside, tilting your hips upward for better access. His mouth was insatiable, feasting on you like a starving man. Your hands flew to his head, gripping his hair tightly as you moaned loudly. "A-Adam...please..." You cried. Adam ignored your pleas, his focus entirely on the task at hand. He hooked his arms around your thighs, holding you down as he continued his onslaught. He sucked hard on your sensitive bud, then thrust his tongue into your opening. "Adam...please...I can't..." Adam's tongue stilled, and he lifted his head to look at you. His face was glistening with your juices, his eyes blazing with triumph. "You were saying something about me not measuring up?" He chuckled darkly.

"Mmm," Adam hummed against you, his tongue resuming its torment. He slipped two fingers inside you, pumping them in and out while his mouth continued to work its magic. Your body tensed, your breath hitched, and you cried out as waves of pleasure crashed over you. Adam slowly kissed his way up your body, a smug grin on his face. "Still think I'm overrated?" he asked, his voice low. “N-no.” You say, catching your breath. Adam rose, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He undid his swim trunks, dropping them to the ground. He crawled onto the furs, his muscled body hovering over yours. "Now," He rasped, Adam nudged your entrance, his hard length gliding through your folds. He leaned down, his lips capturing yours in a deep, hungry kiss. "Last chance to take back your words," You gasp. “I take it back!” You say quickly.

Adam's lips curled into a satisfied smirk as he broke the kiss. He grabbed your legs, throwing them over his shoulders as he thrust his hips forward. He buried himself to the hilt, a guttural groan escaping him as he finally filled you completely. "Good," He grunted, his powerful hips snapped back and forth, each thrust burying him deeper inside you. His fingers dug into your thighs as he held them apart, his face a mask of intense concentration. "You're so...tight," he hissed, his voice strained. Adam leaned forward, capturing one of your hardened peaks between his lips. He suckled hungrily, his tongue swirling around the taut bud.

Leaning forward, Adam draped your legs over his arms, altering the angle of his thrusts. He leaned down to nuzzle your neck, his teeth grazing over your skin. "You feel so good, my love," He murmured, his voice laced with reverence. His hips began to move faster, each snap of his pelvis sending jolts of pleasure through your body. The wet sounds of your coupling filled the air, mixing with Adam's increasingly labored breathing. "I'm getting close," He growled, his eyes darkening with lust.

You are a complete mess beneath him. Adam's hand slides between your bodies, his fingertips finding that sensitive bundle of nerves. He rubbed furiously as he pounded into you, his body tensing as he neared his release. "Come with me, my love," he rasped, his voice hoarse from exertion. Adam's release hit him like a freight train, his body tensing as he drove deep inside you. He let out a roar, his body convulsing as he filled you with his release. Adam’s release triggered your own, your body milking him for every last drop. He leaned down, his forehead resting against yours. "And how do I measure up now?"

Adam's face split into a wide grin, his fangs glinting in the firelight. He collapsed onto the furs beside you, his arms wrapping around your waist as he pulled you flush against his chest. "Glad to hear it," He murmured, his lips pressing against your shoulder. Adam let out a satisfied hum, his arms wrapping around you as he rolled onto his back, bringing you with him. He nuzzled your neck, his hands idly caressing your back. "I love you," he murmured, his voice content. "And I promise, this is only the beginning." He promises, as he holds you in his loving arms.

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