greenandsorrow

[greenandsorrow]

Looking forward to writing for this lovely psychopath again!

작은 빨간 모자 ~

🩸 Little Red Riding Hood 🩸

🥀 the Salesman/the Recruiter x fem!virgin!reader

Inspired by Aeseaes' cover of Sam the Sham and the Pharaohs' "Little Red Riding Hood".

Warnings: explicit/dark/adult content, no use of y/n, hunter x prey, low-key haters to lovers, mention of blood, bodily fluids, loss of virginity, emotional manipulation, possessiveness, protectiveness, sub!reader, penetrative and oral sex, unprotected sex, creampie, age gap, public setting, voyeurism, slight dacryphilia, corruption kink, consensual chaos, non-canon, made-up game, corn with plot, smut with emotion, the format is just me experimenting, my first time writing a yandere dynamic, angst, fluff, I spontaneously wrote this at 5 am so I wasn't going for perfection

The woods are alive.

Somewhere in the distance, a clock is chiming -a reminder that time is slipping through your fingers.

The game is simple: make it to the cabin alive. But no one said anything about him.

The woods are a labyrinth.

The shadows are shifting like ghosts under the moonlight.

Your lungs burn as you sprint through bushes and wild weeds. Your heart hammers painfully against your ribs each time you stumble on some gnarled root and almost fall down. Somewhere behind you, you can hear him -footsteps slow and deliberate, a predator savoring his hunt.

Hey there, little red riding hood. You sure are looking good. You're everything a big bad wolf could want...

The forest looms in every direction, vast and seemingly unending, a maze designed to disorient and devour you. You can faintly smell the sea, the only giveaway that you could, perhaps, be on an island. The red of your cape stands out against the darkness, making you an easy target.

He's here, always just behind you, close enough that his presence prickles across your skin.

"Hey there, little red", he finally speaks, voice velvety -but also mocking. You inwardly curse yourself, because your stomach doesn't twist only with fear. "You sure are looking good tonight."

Halting your sprint, your breath hitches as you turn around only to find him leaning against a tree, silhouette sharp and predatory in the dim light.

"You brought me here!" you shout, the words trembling with fury and betrayal. "You- you're the reason I'm in this nightmare!"

The Salesman steps closer, unhurried, his eyes gleaming with something dark and primal. His smirk is maddening, as if your accusation is just a game to him -one he's already won.

"You're right" he answers rather smoothly, each word dripping with false apology. "I sold you the ticket. But you're the one who took it, little red."

His gaze sweeps over you, lingering on the sweat-slicked curve of your throat and on the heaving rise and fall of your chest.

"And look at you now" he murmurs, his voice softening. "You're breathtaking when you're afraid."

You've started taking steps backwards. Your back presses against a tree as you try to catch your breath. Your clothes are clinging to your skin, your trembling fingers grasping at the zipper as if it, alone, can pull you together.

The Salesman steps in the narrow, moonlit trail, his presence overwhelming. His suit is immaculate, not a molecule of dirt on the expensive fabric. His smile -sharp, knowing, predatory- makes your heart lurch.

"You're running out of time, little one" he warns you, his dark eyes raking over your frame. "And you've caught my attention. This is a game you can't win alone."

"Stay away from me" you snap. But he doesn't listen.

"I can't" he tone more hoarse. "You don't understand, do you?"

His hand slams against the tree behind you and you flinch, your heart fluttering in your ribcage like a trapped bird.

"You haunt me" he blurts, tone raw with something you can't name. "Every time I close my eyes, I see you. I even smell you, dammit. You've driven me mad."

You swallow hard, your throat dry. "Then why did you bring me here?"

His jaw tightens and for the first time, the mask of control cracks.

"Because I couldn't do any differently. I was supposed to bring you here. But... I didn't know it would feel like this."

His gaze burns into yours -wild and consuming- and for a moment, the forest, the game, everything else melts away.

Little red riding hood, I don't think little big girls should go walking in these spooky old woods alone...

"You want me dead!" you say once you snap out of whatever trance you had gotten in, your voice trembling with a mix of anger and despair. "That's what this is, isn't it? Another game to watch me suffer?!"

His hand gently grabs your chin, tilting your face up so you have no choice but to look at him. "No" he growls, the word harsh and final. "I don't want you dead. I want you to live."

"You're lying" you choke out, your anger warring with the traitorous heat building between you. "You're a monster."

The Salesman's lips part like the word cut him. "I can't change what I've done, little red. But I can try. For you."

His thumb brushes over your lower lip and his expression twists into something almost painful. "But you make it so hard" he murmurs. "You make me want things I shouldn't. You make me weak."

The tears that have been burning your eyes finally spill over... and his thumb catches one, smearing it across your cheek.

"You're cruel" you utter softly.

"And you're perfect" he shoots back, his voice cracking like a badly tuned guitar. "So perfect it's killing me."

The sound of the clock echoing through the stillness and quiet of the night gets your attention. You have to move forward, have to locate the cabin before daylight.

The path stretches ahead, dark and winding. Simultaneously, his presence continues to loom behind you like some unbearable weight. You walk fast, your legs burning, but he keeps walking with you. When he grabs you by the shoulder, it isn't out of violence but out of desperation.

His arms wrap around you, pinning you to his firm chest as he buries his face in your hair.

"You really don't understand" he rasps. "I don't care who wins this game. I don't care about the money, or the rules, or any of it. I just need you to make it to the cabin."

His grip tightens, his hands trembling against you. "If you die, I swear I'll burn this whole place to the ground."

What big eyes you have. The kind of eyes that drive wolves mad. Just to see that you don't get chased, I think I ought to walk with you for a ways...

When he moves again, it's like a shadow, too quick for your eyes to follow. One moment, you are standing on the path... The next, he is pushing you back, his hand braced against the tree you're now up against.

His eyes lock onto yours and the intensity in them is enough to make you shiver.

"You're squirming." His voice is laced with mockery, though his gaze betrays his hunger. "Are you afraid of me?"

You want to say yes, to push him away, to fight back -but your body has other plans. The heat in his eyes and the way his lips quirk into that knowing smirk send a flush creeping up your neck.

"I can almost smell it on you" he continues, voice dropping an octave as his fingers brush along the edge of your jacket. "The innocence. The fear. You've never been touched, have you, little red?"

Your breath hitches audibly and his smirk deepens. His hand slips to your zipper, dragging it down inch by agonizing inch and sliding the jacket off your shoulders. Then, he takes off your t-shirt, pulling it over your head with an ease that makes your knees feel all wobbly.

The action is almost symbolic. Right now, you're not Player XXX. The burden of that number has been lifted. By him.

The cool air hits your bare skin, followed by the warmth of his large palm as he presses it flat against your stomach...

"You'll be perfect" he whispers, his lips grazing the shell of your ear. "All mine."

What full lips you have. They're sure to lure someone bad. Until you get to grandma's place, I think you ought to walk with me and be safe...

His mouth finds yours in an instant and it is nothing like the soft, hesitant kisses you imagined. It's raw and consuming, his lips claiming yours with a hunger that leaves you breathless. His tongue teases your lower lip, wanting you to open for him... and when you do, he groans into the kiss, needy and satisfied.

His hands roam over your body, exploring every curve, every inch of newly bared skin. When his fingers graze the waistband of your panties, you gasp, breaking the kiss.

"Shh..."

Hot lips trail down your neck, leaving a burning path in their wake. "Let me take care of you."

You whimper as his fingers slide lower, slipping beneath the thin fabric. His touch is slow, reverent, as if he is savoring every little reaction -the way your breath hitches and the way your thighs tremble as he finds your sensitive bundle of nerves.

"So wet" he growls, his voice heavy with desire. "I wanted you to want this... And how you do, little one. You- you impress me."

You shift closer to him, using his much larger frame to shield yourself from the cool night air. He gives you a smile, seemingly pleased, but even as he does so, his hands don't stop touching you -tracing the curve of your breast, your hip, your thighs.

"I'm starving for you" he confesses, his lips ghosting over your collarbone, your jaw, your half open mouth. "Do you feel it? Do you feel what you've done to me?"

You nod shakily, your fingers clutching at his suit, overwhelmed by what is happening.

"You can hate me for coming to see you here," he says roughly as his fingers find the slick, untouched heat between your thighs again.

"But maybe," he continues, his lips brushing your earlobe, "you'll see things my way before we get to the cabin."

You open your mouth to protest, but the words die on your tongue as he slips a long digit inside you. Your pussy clenches around him -tight and unyielding- and he groans, the sound low and desperate.

"Fuck" he rasps.

"You're so tight." His voice cracks with something between reverence and despair -almost concerned he won't fit. "You've never been penetrated at all, have you?"

You shake your head, a moan escaping you when he begins to move, and then when he adds a second finger, moving them slowly, stretching you, coaxing you open for him.

Gonna keep my sheep suit on,'til I'm sure that you've been shown that I can be trusted walking with you alone...

His lips make contact with your temple, the touch so soft, so fleeting. "Let me try", his free hand slides down to rest against the hollow of your throat, where your pulse roars beneath his fingertips. "Let me prove I'm not here to hurt you."

When he lowers himself on his knees, the sight alone is enough to make your head spin. His strong hands grip your thighs, pulling you toward him as he presses a kiss to your inner thigh.

"You smell like heaven" he says, almost teasing you. "And I'm going to devour you."

His tongue latches on your folds and the sensation is so overwhelming -wet, hot and utterly consuming. You cry out, your hands tangling in his dark locks as he works you over with a practiced precision. Every stroke of his tongue, every gentle scrape of his teeth, sends a jolt of pleasure through you, building and building until you think you might shatter.

He lives for the sounds you make for him. The mewls, the moans and the pathetic whimpers... Let alone how the tags you give his hair send shockwaves straight to his loins.

When he finally rises, his eyes are wild, his lips glistening with your juices. He undoes his belt, letting the tension build as he takes his time.

He unzips his slacks with the same deliberate slowness, as if making sure he captures every little thing with his mind's eye, to remember it afterwards.

What a big heart I have. The better to love you with. Little red riding hood, even bad wolves can be good...

When he frees himself, the mere sight of him makes you short circuit. The size, the way it throbs with need and the raw hunger in his eyes as he watches you take him in... You've never seen a man like this, let alone touch one and the sheer weight of the moment sends a flush to your cheeks -red riding hood for sure now.

Part of you wants to look away, but you simply can't. More heat pools low in your belly, a mix of curiosity, fear... and undeniable arousal leaving you reeling.

He grips himself, stroking lazily as if to show you. "This is what you do to me" he murmurs, his gaze holding yours like a hostage.

All you can do is swallow hard, your thighs pressing together as a deep ache blooms within you.

Your gaze flickers nervously between his face and the hard length in his hand -stomach churning with a mix of hesitation and that primal curiosity.

He is thick, the kind of girth that would make anyone stutter, the veins prominent along the shaft, pulsing faintly under his slow strokes. The head is a deep shade of pink that glistens slightly. You can't help but wonder how it'd feel in your hand, or in your mouth, even as the thought sends a wave of embarrassment rushing through you.

Your fingers twitch at your sides, a silent betrayal of your restraint. He notices -of course he does. His gaze is sharp, like a predator catching the subtlest sign of his prey.

"Go ahead" he encourages, voice low and inviting.

"Touch me."

Your hand moves before your mind can catch up, shaking as you reach out. When your fingers finally brush against him, he exhales sharply, his cock twitching under your tentative touch. It's hot, smooth yet firm beneath your palm and the weight of it makes your cheeks burn.

You glance up at him, unsure, but the look on his face -part restraint, part unfiltered need- makes something inside you snap. You want to know more, to feel more, and the sudden boldness startles you almost as much as it does him.

His breath hitches audibly the moment your fingers wrap around him, his hips jerking forward almost on reflex. "Fuck" he hisses and his hand shoots out to grip your wrist -not to stop you, but to guide you, as though he can't bear it if you fumble.

Every little shift of your touch draws a new sound from him, low groans that reverberate through the air.

"Just like that", his jaw clenches tightly, holding himself back. His head tips back slightly, exposing the line of his throat, his Adam's apple bobbing.

His grip on your wrist loosens as you grow more confident, your hand sliding along his length in slow, experimental strokes. The way he twitches in your grasp is sending thrills of power through you -this man, so composed and intelligent, is unraveling under your touch. His lips part, a string of curses tumbling out... and his eyes, half-lidded with lust, find yours again.

"You don't know what you're doing to me. Not the extent of it." He moans, his voice thick with desire.

He stares down at you like you're something he can't live without. "You're driving me insane."

His hand moves from your wrist to your shoulder, fingers curling, anchoring himself, desperate to keep from losing control. You can feel the tension radiating off him, every muscle in his body coiled tight as if it takes everything he has not to push you further, faster.

"Your hand is so... soft" he groans, voice breaking as your thumb brushes experimentally over the swollen head, smearing the bead of precum there. His reaction is immediate -a sharp inhale through his teeth and hips jerking involuntarily.

"Keep going-" his voice is a low plea now, though his body tells you he's already on the edge, trembling under your touch like a taut bowstring. His grip on your shoulder tightens and he leans forward. "Do you even know how long I've wanted this?"

The admission makes your heart race, the weight of his hunger pressing down on you like a physical force. His eyes lock onto yours again -blown wide with lust- and his mouth falls open as another ragged groan escapes him.

"Fuck, sweetheart" he mutters, his tone barely coherent, his restraint unraveling with every deliberate stroke of your hand. "You're destroying me..."

When his forehead drops to your shoulder, his breath hot against your neck, you feel it -a shudder rolling through him, his entire body quivering as he fights not to cum.

Your gaze drops down to the weight of him and curiosity burns way hotter than your initial nervousness.

Tentatively, your free hand moves lower, fingers brushing against the fullness of his balls. His reaction is visceral -a strangled groan tearing from his throat as his hips buck forward.

The Salesman's hand flies to your wrist again, but he still doesn't pull you away. Instead, he shows you how to cup him, how to roll the sensitive flesh between your fingers.

"There- fuck, just like that" he says desperately.

The atmosphere feels electric and for the first time, you find the courage to speak.

"I'm ready" you whisper, your voice shaking, but the conviction in your words is undeniable. His eyes snap open at your admission, the hunger in them blazing even brighter. For a moment, he just stares at you, as though trying to convince himself he heard you right.

"Are you sure?" he rasps, voice strained, his hands trembling where they rest on your waist. His self-control is slipping away more and more, the tension in his body coiled so tight it's a miracle he hasn't already taken you, but still, he waits, giving you the chance to pull away.

"I want this" you muster, cheeks flushing crimson as your gaze drops shyly. "I want you."

A low growl rumbles from his chest, his hand lifting to cradle your face, tilting it up until your eyes meet.

"There will be no going back" he whispers, his voice thick with desire... and something dangerously close to guilt. "Once we start, I won't be able to stop. You-" his voice cuts off while his thumb brushes tenderly over your cheek. "You deserve more than this. More than giving your innocence away in the darkness of the woods, propped up against a tree trunk."

But your hands, shaky yet determined, slide up his shoulders, grounding him from whatever delirioussness has gotten into him.

"I want you" you repeat, more firmly, your lips brushing against his jaw as you lean in, sealing your decision. "Please. Please have me."

Whatever superhuman restraint he's been clinging to, snaps. With a deep groan, he surges forward, capturing your mouth in another searing kiss, his hands gripping your hips, kneeding the flesh there.

"I will be gentle" he reassures you, speaking against your lips. "I'll take good care of you."

Still, the way he presses against you, tells you just how much he's holding back -for you, for your sake.

"And you'll only ever be mine" he says, his voice low and possessive as he guides himself to your entrance. "No one else will ever touch you like this."

He lines himself up with you, his hand stroking soothing circles along your thigh as he pushes forward, the pressure building steadily until the head of his cock breaches your entrance. A sharp sting blooms as he stretches you open, your body unused to the intrusion.

You can't hold back the whimper that escapes your lips at the new sensation. He freezes immediately, his forehead creasing with concern.

"Just breathe. I'll go slow."

You nod -trusting him- and he resumes his careful movements, inch by inch. The sting gives way to a deep, aching fullness and though it is overwhelming, it isn't unwelcome.

The stretch only gets more intense, the burn almost too much, but he is patient, giving you time to adjust. His forehead presses against yours as he sinks into you a little more, his breaths ragged -almost like he's sharing in your pain.

His hands tremble as they run over your body frantically, his lips trailing soft kisses down your neck and across your collarbone.

When he shifts, it's to guide you to lay back on the forest floor, using his suit jacket to cover the damp grass bellow.

His frame is hovering over you now and you let out a little moan.

"You'll tell me if it's too much..." Even though his voice is husky, it's also laced with care, his forehead pressing into yours again. He seems to like the closeness this gesture provides.

"I will" you gasp.

Your body is already arching into his, silently pleading for more.

"So tight" he groans, his jaw clenched as though holding himself back is pure agony. "You feel… Ah, you feel perfect."

When he's fully seated, his hips flush against yours, he stills again, his whole body trembling above you.

A faint sting remains and you can feel the faint, sticky warmth of blood, but it's overpowered by the way he fills you completely, as though he is made to be inside you.

"You okay?" he murmurs, kissing your temple.

"Y- yes" you breath, a soft moan escaping as you shift experimentally. "You can move."

He obeys, drawing back slowly before pushing in again, the movement of his cock against your walls igniting something primal inside you. You're opening up to him after all.

His head falls on your shoulder. "I'll ruin you, but I will never let anyone else have you."

Each thrust is measured and cautious at first, but it's not long before his restraint begins to fray completely. His movements quicken, his hips snapping into yours... and every ragged moan and growl he lets out makes the coil in your belly tighten.

"I can't look away" he pants, his eyes locked on where your bodies join. "You're taking me so well... It's beautiful..."

Your nails dig into his back as your own pleasure builds up to a breaking point -your moans growing more incoherent and high-pitched with each thrust. The forest around you seems to fade, the world narrowing down to just the two of you, the wet sound of your bodies meeting and the rasp of his breath in your ear.

When you climax, your orgasm hits you like a tidal wave, your body arching into his as you cry out in ecstasy.

He isn't far behind, if anything, he was holding back his load, wanting you to finish first.

His thrusts grow more erratic than before.

Suddenly, he buries himself as deep as he can, a guttural half-moan, half-groan ripping from his chest as he spills inside you. The warmth of his release floods you and he stills, blissed out and tangled up with you.

He stays there, still buried inside you, his forehead resting against yours as his hand cups your cheek. "You're mine now" he declares, but there's a softness in his eyes that belies the ferocity of his words. "And I don't let what's mine slip away."

Little red riding hood, I'd like to hold you if I could, but you might think I'm a big bad wolf, so I won't...

When he sits up a little, his eyes rove over your spent body, drinking you in, lingering too long on the curve of your hips, the flush of your stomach, the trembling rise of your chest.

He gasps when he pulls out his barely softening member, covered in both of your releases and your virgin blood.

The air is heavy with the scent of pine, earth ...and what you have just done. Your body aches in unfamiliar places and you continue feeling exposed even after you pull your clothes back on.

"Mine" he repeats and kisses you. "You'll always be mine."

It's almost like he says it in order to soothe himself more than convince you. Almost like he can't believe you wanted him to be your first. Almost like this is a dream, too good, too pure, too tender to be part of his reality.

I'll try to keep satisfied, just to walk by your side. Maybe you'll see things my way before we get to grandma's place...

As you both stumble through the dense, dark green, his hand -large, warm and steady- wraps around yours.

"Why are you still here?" you snap, glancing over your shoulder.

You sigh and yank his hand away -even though part of you was comforted by it.

"To keep you alive" he replies simply.

You still don't trust him fully, not even after what you did, yet his presence alone is oddly reassuring. When your steps falter on the uneven ground, his hand is here to steady you. When you hesitate at the edge of a stream, he crosses first, testing the stability of the rocks.

After some minutes of silent walking, you stop in your tracks, your fists clenching. "This is insane! You can't possibly care if I make it to the cabin. You only care about yourself. And now, you have taken what you wanted."

He steps closer, the moonlight casting sharp shadows on his handsome face. "Maybe that was the case at first" he admits, his voice low. "But things change. You changed me."

"You think I'll forgive you for recruiting me?! That I'll see things your way, just because you're helping me now?"

His lips curve into a faint, humorless smile.

"No" he begins. "I do not expect you to forgive me. But maybe, you'll finally understand."

"Why?" you demand, your anger bubbling to the surface. "Why me? Why bring me into this hell?!"

His expression darkens, his brown eyes impenetrable in the dim light. "I was obligated to recruit you, as I've already said."

You scoff.

"You're everything I shouldn't want."

You try your best to not react to that statement.

The cabin can now be seen in the distance.

"You made it", his voice is soft and filled with unspoken pride.

His fingers find yours again, tightening their grip immediately, pulling you closer as you near your destination.

"You're stronger than you think, Red."

There is something really tender in his tone, something almost protective, as though he wants to shield you from everything that awaits inside the cabin and then forward.

You don't respond at first, your mind still reeling from the chaos, the tension, the fire between you. His touch has been both a curse and a lifeline, his hunger for you undeniable, but his promise now feels like something more... something real.

Little red riding hood, you sure are looking good. You're everything a big bad wolf could want...

When the door finally creaks open, the warmth inside the cabin wraps around you like a comfort you didn't realize you needed. The rustic furniture, the faint smell of pine wood burning, it all feels like a world away from the horrors you have faced so far.

You're the first to have made it. Even before sunrise... And you are accurately aware that it's because of him.

He closes the door behind you, his back leaning against it as his eyes study you, dark with something more than desire.

"I know what you're thinking" he starts. "You think this is just part of the game, don't you? But I can assure you it's not."

Your heart skips a beat at the sincerity of his words "What do you mean?" you ask quietly, eyes wide and uncertain.

"I'm getting you out of here" he promises, tone filled with unshakeable resolve. "I don't care about the rest of them, little one. I care about you."

Walking up to you, he reaches for the column of your neck, his thumb gently caressing the soft skin there... For the first time, there is no manipulation in his touch -just raw, honest tenderness.

You feel your heart flutter, the truth in his words sinking in as you look up at him.

The man who has played the villain, the one who has pushed you into this game, is now the same man promising to protect you, to pull you out of it. His eyes soften as he stares down at you, his hand now resting on your waist as he pulls you gently into his arms.

"You'll get through this, saranghae. You have to." he murmurs, his lips brushing against your hairline, inhaling your natural scent. "And I'll make sure you do. Just trust me."

His embrace tightens around you.

And for the first time since you have arrived on the island, you feel safe.

When he finally lets you go -your lips swollen and your innocence irrevocably marked-, you're full of a new kind of motivation to survive.

His final words stay with you as he exits the cabin.

"Keep running, little red riding hood."

Thank you so much for reading ❣️

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~ masterlist ~

[greenandsorrow]

In case you missed this getting updated!

the price for misbehaving (iii)

Alastor x gn!reader in heat

WARNINGS; explicit content, deer/doe!demon!reader with fem anatomy, needy!reader, soft-dom!Alastor, ovulation talk, horniness & hormones, breeding kink, primal instincts, mentions of deer mating season, cunningulus, penetrative sex, angst, comfort, fluff, wholesomeness, friends to lovers, smut with emotion, finding your forever mate, don't forget to use protection irl my loves

Dividers by; @saradika-graphics & @cafekitsune

Please do not repost or directly copy my work and don't use it on AI platforms either 🧡

Thank you so much for all the love and support!! And the relative patience. This is literally Part 1 but with the roles reversed. I hope you enjoy it and I promise that the finale won't take long!

For additional rut smut, check this out!

~masterpost~

After your first kiss, life went back to normal -well, for a month or so.

Friendly bickering, long conversations about everything and nothing, his unnerving yet strangely comforting presence always in reach...

Despite that normalcy, you realized Alastor's rut shook your quiet and uneventful life in an irreversible way. His musth has done more than leave you breathless... It has awakened something primal in you, too.

The fever hit you slowly. In the beginning, it was an ache in your limbs, a strange warmth in your chest, a restlessness in your thoughts. You blamed the sudden activeness of your sexual life during his rut.

But by the time your heat fully bloomed, there was no mistaking it.

The first wave came in the middle of an idle day, leaving you gripping the counter of the hotel's kitchen -a surge of warmth low in your belly and cramps in your bust.

A strangled laugh escaped you before you could stop it.

"Oh, this is just perfect~" you muttered, rubbing at the base of your antlers, trying to get rid of the sudden itch.

It was no use.

The itch persisted.

That smug bastard would love to know he had dragged you into this.

When Alastor arrived later, on that same evening, his tailored suit as sharp as ever and his grin sharper, you were already a bundle of nerves and hormones. His energy filled the room like crackling fire and the scent of him sent heat and moisture pooling between your thighs.

You crossed your arms, determined to ignore your physical reactions.

"You look flushed" Alastor commented, cocking his head inquisitively, crimson eyes glinting with slight amusement.

"Gee, I wonder why" you shot back, voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Maybe it's because someone's rut threw me into heat."

Alastor blinked, the teasing grin faltering just slightly. Then it returned, wider than before.

"Oh, my dear deer, I had no idea I had such an effect on you!"

"Don't flatter yourself~" you snapped, though your body betrayed you, leaning in.

He stepped closer, his long fingers brushing against your jawline.

"You're in heat..." he murmured, his voice low and deliberate. "...and you came to me?"

"I didn't just 'come to you'" you grumbled. "You're always here."

"Hmm" he mused, his gaze flicking to your slightly grown antlers. "It still is deer mating season, isn't it? Fascinating how instinct takes over."

You were at his radio tower, sitting on the little sofa he had fit in there. It was supposed to be a chill night, with you reading while he did his own thing. Despite the 'chill' part, as the night progressed, the tension between you became unbearable. Your mating instincts were undeniable -the flicks of your little tail, the darkened hue of your eyes, the way your antlers gleamed under the dim light.

"You're ovulating" Alastor said at some point, his tone both matter of factly and dangerously hungry.

"Don't say it like that..." you protested, face burning.

"But it's true" he retorted, leaning down, his sharp teeth grazing the shell of your ear. "And you smell divine."

Indeed.

Something had changed.

The silence that followed wasn't awkward. It was charged, humming with unspoken words. When he stood close to you again, you found yourself leaning into his space without even realizing it, drawn to the comforting, masculine warmth he offered.

And he let you.

Alastor Hartfelt -who once kept everyone at arm's length with his theatrical charm- has softened in ways you don't fully understand, nor anticipated. He lingers longer after your conversations and he smiles more -not the razor-sharp grin he uses for the world's eyes, but something more sincere, almost fond.

"Are you just going to stare, or are you planning on saying something?" you ask petulantly, trying to keep your voice light despite the strange heat creeping up your neck.

It's late in the afternoon.

"I find your company... pleasant" he simply answers, making your stomach flutter.

This is the closest thing to an admission you've ever gotten from him ...and it's enough, for now. See, you have been pestering him the whole day to tell Rosie about you and him, and when he stopped giving you attention, you had started crying in frustration.

It's true, your friendship has begun to shift into something more. It's not just the hormones that make you crave his touch... It's the way he treats you and it's also the way he makes you feel deep inside your condemned soul.

You remember the way he had looked at you during his rut -wildly, ravenously, yet with restraint, as if the mere idea of hurting you was repulsive to him. Even now, with your body betraying you, you know he'd never take more than you're willing to give.

The whole trust thing is what makes this so so maddening. It's intimate in ways neither of you is familiar with.

"Are you always this quiet during mating season?" he addresses you playfully, breaking the silence as you pace your small bedroom back and forth -trying to burn off the restless energy coursing through you.

"Only when someone else's rut has completely broken my biological clock" you shoot back, throwing him a glare over your shoulder.

His laugh is rich and warm, a sound that -to your dismay- sends shivers down your spine.

"You're welcome."

"Oh, you think you're so funny!" you exclaim, frustrated, but the corners of your lips betray you, twitching into a reluctant smile.

"Amusing enough to not kick me out, it seems."

This whole ordeal has to be one of the rare occasions where Alastor isn't trying to show off -when it comes to actions, because this man has an unstoppable flare when it comes to words.

And it starts out small, so small you almost don't notice it.

The radio demon isn't exactly a coddling or hovering guy, but after his rut, he begins stepping in. He pulls out your chair before you sit, hands you things before you can ask and walks you everywhere, even when you insist you don't need any company.

When your heat starts creeping in, it's not just his presence that comforts you -it is the way he seems to know, instinctively, what you need.

As the "heat wave" progresses, he becomes more and more protective -proactive as well.

Alastor is always watching, always listening. A step ahead of you at every turn. He hands you a glass of water before you realize how dry your throat is, pulls the curtains closed when the sunlight feels too harsh to your easily overstimulated system.

"Eat" he commands one evening, setting a plate in front of you without the usual fanfare.

His tone is brisk, but his eyes linger on yours, soft and unreadable.

"I'm not hungry" you whine softly, crossing your arms.

"You'll need your strength" he explains, unbothered by your defiance.

His insistence would've been annoying if it weren't so... sweet.

He doesn't push further, just stays nearby, humming an old tune as you reluctantly take a bite.

It only gets worse from here.

Every sound is amplified to the point of distraction and most smells make you dizzy and fussy.

Now, you are pacing around all the time.

Alastor stays silent during those restless times, watching you with a focus that would unnerve any other sinner. However, all it makes you feel is frustration.

"Stop staring! You're always doing that and I'm sick of it, Al!" you lash out, rubbing at your temples.

"You, stop fidgeting and moving" he retorts.

"Excuse me?! What- what do you want me to do? Sit still and burn alive?"

His grin softens, replaced by something calmer and more serious.

"You're not alone in this."

The words shouldn't mean as much as they do, but they hit something deep in you. Alastor -your oldest friend- is here, grounding you when your own body betrays you.

"You don't owe me anything, if that's why you've stuck around after... you know what." you say, pacing the room for what must be the fifth time this evening.

When you stumble, knees buckling from the ache between your thighs, he catches you before you hit the floor. His hands are firm yet cautious, holding you like you might shatter.

"Careful" he says softly, his crimson eyes meeting yours. "I've got you."

His antlers brush against yours as he guides you to your single bed, the accidental contact sending a shiver down your spine. His scent fills your senses -practically intoxicating you- and you start rubbing against him, unconsciously.

"Alastor? ...why are you being so nice to me?" you mutter, your voice muffled against his shoulder.

"Because I care" he replies simply -and for once, there is no teasing in his voice.

"You're hovering a little too much these days" you grumble weakly.

He doesn't flinch. "I'm making myself useful."

His calmness infuriates you, mostly because he's right. Everything he does is perfectly timed, perfectly measured -and it leaves you feeling raw and exposed. It's like he can see every vulnerable part of you, laid bare without your permission.

You're being driven insane by the constant heat and ache, the gnawing need that you are aware you can't satisfy on your own.

And Alastor's constant presence doesn't help your raging progesterone. (I'm sorry)

"I don't like you treating me like I'm about to fall apart~"

He tilts his head, antlers catching the soft light as he studies your frame in his arms. "You're not yourself right now. Someone has to keep an eye on you."

You huff, face hot, hands curling into fists. "I'm fine, Alastor. I'm not some delicate flower that needs-"

"You almost fell. Clearly, you're perfectly fine..." he says, his tone laced with dry amusement.

You huff at that.

You want to snap at him again, to push him away, to hit him even, but his scent is everywhere -woody and sweet, warm and grounding. It clouds your mind, the primal part of you drawn to him despite your pride.

"Let go" you say under your breath, the words lacking conviction.

"I don't think I will."

Alastor's grip is strong, but not uncomfortable, his thumbs brushing over your arms in a way that makes your breath hitch.

"Not when you're like this."

You swallow hard, caught between the familiar frustration and the embarrassing comfort his touch brings. The heat pooling low in your belly grows with every brush of his fingers and you hate how you want more.

"Like what?!" you eventually snap again, though your voice wavers.

"Overheating? Aching? On the verge of snapping at me for simply breathing in your direction?"

His tone is light and teasing, but there's an edge of knowing behind it and it makes you freeze. Makes you remember the state he was in only a few weeks ago.

Your silence betrays you and his grin widens, smug and victorious.

"That's what I thought."

You glare at him, still resisting his soothing touches. "I'm not some helpless little fawn, Alastor."

"No, you're not" he agrees, eyes gleaming.

"You're stubborn, snippy, and-" his gaze drifts over you and his voice drops. "...painfully uncomfortable."

The honesty in his tone catches you off guard and before you can argue AGAIN, he presses a steady hand on your shoulder, guiding you to lay down.

"Humor me. Just this once, y/n."

Reluctantly, you comply, but not without crossing your arms over your chest.

"Fine. But this doesn't mean I need you."

"Of course not" he says with a smile that borders on condescending.

You open your mouth to retort once more, but the words die in your throat when Alastor's palms land on your shoulders.

His warmth seeps through your shirt and when he starts to knead the tension there, a low moan escapes from you.

"Goodness" he teases, his thumbs working into a particularly tight knot. "Is this where all your attitude is hiding?"

"Shut up" you mutter, while unabashedly rolling so you're laying on your stomach, giving him better access.

His touch is phenomenal, long fingers tracing over the muscles of your neck and shoulders with a precision that makes you shiver all over.

It feels too good -too intimate- but you can't bring yourself to pull away.

"Your antlers must be killing you" he observes after a long moment of silence, his hands drifting up to brush the base of them.

The sensation sends a spark between your thighs and you have to swallow a grunt to appear composed.

"They're doing fine" you lie, but the way you perk your head up and toward his touch betrays you.

"Mantè" he murmurs, his voice low and amused.

"I'm not lying!" you whine and he shushes you with a cheeky look.

You sit up a little, petulantly.

When his touch moves to the space between your antlers, you let out a soft, involuntary gasp.

He stills, his sharp grin fading as his eyes meet yours.

"Ah" he says softly, his tone more curious than mocking. "Sensitive, aren't we?"

"Don't~" you warn, but it comes out weak and breathless.

"Don't what?"

His fingers start to move again -slowly and deliberately- and your body betrays you completely. A whimper escapes your lips this time and his smile turns wicked.

"Don't do this?"

You don't answer, biting your lip to stifle another sound, but he hears it anyway.

"You're tense everywhere" he taunts, his hands sliding down to your shoulders again. "Let me help."

Your heart pounds in your chest as his hands drift lower, skimming your sides, his touch intent but not quite crossing any lines. Yet.

"Alastor" you breathe, his name slipping past your lips without thinking.

"Yes, my dear?" he replies in a velvet-smooth voice, but there's a flicker of something darker in his gaze now. Something primal.

"Is this-"

You pause, swallowing hard.

"Is this a bad idea?"

His grin softens and now there's no teasing in his voice. "Not if you want it."

"Just- just rub my back a little more."

"As you wish, my dear~"

Soon, the tension reaches a breaking point.

You pull away from his hands abruptly.

Your antlers scrape the bed's headboard, a dull throb blooming at their base -and it's the last straw.

"Enough!" you half-shout and half-whine, voice cracking in despair. "I can't- I can't take this anymore!"

Alastor's eyes widen as he watches you start pacing around once more, but this time with your hands tagging at your hair.

"It's too much!" you continue, your voice rising with every word. "Everything hurts, everything burns! And I feel like I'm crawling out of my own skin! And you-"

You whirl to face him, your vision blurring at the edges. "You're not helping me at all! You're just- just there! Smiling and being smug and-"

Your words break off into a choked sob and before you can stop yourself, the tears come. You press your palms to your face, trying to stifle the sounds, but it's impossible.

The silence stretches, heavy.

Then, there's movement -soft and careful. Alastor approaches slowly, his usual energy toned down.

"Darling…" he speaks softly, his voice stripped of its previous amusement.

"Don't- Not again~" you start as well, your words muffled behind your trembling hands.

But when his arms come around you, warm and steady and so secure, you don't push him away.

He holds you without a word, his chin resting on your shoulder as you shake against him.

"I didn't realize" he explains, regretful. "I thought teasing would help distract you, not… make you cry."

You shake your head, your tears soaking into his shirt.

"It's not your fault" you manage, though the words feel hollow.

He pulls back just enough to meet your watery eyes, his hands cupping your face with surprising gentleness.

"Let's do it right, hm? No games. No teasing. Just… let me take care of you, just like you took care of me when I needed you most. How does that sound to my dearest deer?"

Something in his tone breaks through the overwhelming haze of lust you're currently experiencing.

You nod -a small, shaky movement.

"Good."

He guides you back onto the bed, his movements unhurried this time. As your back meets the mattress, he slips his arms under your knees, his long fingers trailing up your oversensitive thighs, making your breath hitch.

"Relax" he says, his voice soothing. "I only want to help."

You nod again, your body trembling as his hands slip beneath the waistband of your PJ shorts, pulling them down with care.

His crimson gaze flicks up to meet yours -checking- and when you don't stop him, he leans in.

The first touch of his tongue is toe curling -to say the least- and you gasp loudly, your hands fisting the fabric of his shirt. He hums against you, the sound vibrating through your core... and you can't help the whimper that escapes your lips.

"Just like that" he praises, his voice muffled against your wetness, and he gets to work -tongue moving in slow, measured strokes.

Your head falls back against one pillow, your breathing ragged as the tension in your body finally starts to unravel. Alastor's hands grip your thighs, holding you steady and open for him.

When you glance down, the sight of him -his sharp antlers gently scratching your abdomen and thighs, his bright eyes half-lidded and focused on your sex- sends a fresh wave of heat through you.

"Alastor" you moan, your voice trembling uncontrollably.

He pulls back just enough to smirk up at you, though it's softer than before. "Yes, my dear?"

"Don't you dare stop" you whisper and his smile fades into something more tender and loving.

"Never" he promises, diving back in.

When you finally fall apart, your body shaking with the force of it, he doesn't move away an inch. He stays with you, his touch grounding, his lips pressing soft kisses on the sensitive skin of your thighs and belly.

When you come down and while your body is still writhing, he rises, his hands now sliding under your arms to pull you up gently. He sits back, guiding you to straddle his lap.

"Are you alright?" he asks, his voice soft, his eyes searching yours.

You nod, your hands resting on his chest. "I… I need more" you admit, your voice barely above a whisper.

Something flickers in his gaze -desire, longing, maybe even excitement.

"I'm at your disposal."

He lifts you effortlessly, shifting you beneath him as he leans over, his body caging yours -without pressing down.

His antlers brush yours, the contact sending shivers through your whole body and it feels all tingly, and then his lips meet yours in a kiss that's surprisingly tender.

The moment he pushes into you, slow and careful, your breath catches. He stills, his forehead resting against yours.

A deep ache blooms where you've been craving him most. You can feel every ridge and every vein, the way his length stretches you, filling you completely. It's overwhelming in the best way.

"Are you alright?" he asks again, his voice barely audible.

"Yes" you breathe, wrapping your legs around his waist.

"Please, Al~"

"I had missed feeling you around me."

Neither of you expected this choice of words from him. If anything, it's what a couple...-

He doesn't wait for you to answer though.

Alastor begins to move, his pace measured, his hands cradling your hips as if you might break without the support. But there's an intensity in his gaze, a primal hunger that simmers just beneath the surface.

Missionary should never be underestimated. The eye contact, the emotional closeness, the way you can easily bring him down for a kiss, or run your fingers through his hair -that's starting to curl from all the sweat- make the experience so fulfilling to you frayed nerves.

Alastor keeps his body aligned with yours as he presses his forehead to your own. The heat radiating off his skin feels almost suffocating, but it also grounds you in the moment.

"Too much?" he whispers, his voice steady despite the faint tremor of his breath.

His antlers gently bump into yours once more and the sweet intimacy of the gesture makes your chest tighten.

"No" you manage, though the word is barely coherent. "It's perfect."

He groans softly at that, his hips shifting slightly so he can go even deeper.

"You're stunning" he murmurs mid thrust, his fingers tracing the contours of your face, before slipping lower, back on your hip. "Do you know that?"

You don't answer -can't answer. His thrusts are slow, the kind of pace that forces you to feel everything. It's maddening, the way he pulls out so slowly, only to push back in with measured precision, the friction setting your nerves alight.

Your body responds instinctively, your legs wrapping tighter around his waist, pulling him deeper. Each thrust sends a jolt of pleasure through you, the pressure building low in your belly.

"Alastor~"

"Y/n?"

His tone is still soft, but now edged with restraint, as though he's holding himself back.

"Faster" you plead, your nails digging into his shoulders. "Pretty please."

He hesitates, his crimson eyes searching yours, before his control slips. His hips snap forward -harder this time- and you cry out, your back arching off the mattress.

"That's it" he groans, his voice rougher now, the sharp tips of his antlers grazing yours with every thrust.

Your body trembles beneath him, more and more intensely, heat pooling tight in your core. The pleasure builds steadily, each thrust pushing you closer to the edge, until it becomes almost unbearable.

"Alastor, I-"

Your words falter, your breath hitching as the tension in your belly coils even tighter, ready to snap -for the second time tonight.

His hand slides down, his thumb finding your swollen clit. The touch is feather-light at first, but when you whimper and whine, he applies more pressure, circling it in time with his thrusts.

"Come for me" he coaxes.

"Let go. I've got you, love."

The combination of his touch, his voice and what he just called you, the steady rhythm of his hips... It's all too much.

The tension snaps and your orgasm hits you hard, body convulsing as pleasure crashes over you time and time again. Your legs spasm around his waist, your head falling back as a cry tears from your lips. The sensation is sharp and all-consuming, your vision turns white.

"So good" he marvels while his hands remain on your hips, grounding you as you ride out the last waves of your climax. "You're breathtaking."

The aftershocks start to ripple through you. Despite your body feeling boneless, your chest is still heaving quite a lot.

Alastor doesn't stop moving, but his pace slows, his touches gentle and reverent.

When your vision returns, you see his gaze on you, filled with something soft and unspoken.

"Are you alright?" he asks again, his voice low, a hint of uncertainty breaking through his usual confidence.

You nod, a shaky smile appearing on your flushed face.

"More than alright" you whisper, your hands coming up to cup his face.

He smiles back at you, leaning down to press a deep kiss to your lips.

"I'm glad, because I need just a little more to~ You know..."

How he can fuck you all the way up to Heaven, but shy away when it comes to voicing the simplest of things will always be beyond you. Still, you're too satisfied and sated to bring it up and tease him right now.

You're actually so sated you barely register his orgasm.

When Alastor finally slows, his movements become languid, savoring the last few moments of connection.

He presses a kiss against your temple as he pulls out, carefully.

A deep warmth lingers in your core, a mix of his seed and your own juices slipping out, leaving you feeling full and entirely undone.

"Sleepy?"

"You have no idea."

Your lover's gaze gets fixed on where you're leaking onto the bed sheets and he doesn't try to hide his possessive and proud expression.

You let out a little noise as the slickness spreads, shifting uncomfortably.

"Sticky" you mutter, your voice still weak from the intensity of your release.

He chuckles, going back to amused, before leaning down to press another kiss to your lips.

"I'll take care of it."

True to his word, he disappears briefly and returns with a warm, damp towel. He cleans you gently, murmuring soothing words each time you shiver from the sensation.

When he's finished, he wraps you in a soft blanket he finds on a nearby chair and gathers you into his arms -his antlers brushing yours in the tender gesture you both seem to love.

"You're safe" he whispers, cradling you close against his chest. "Alastor got you."

Your body melts into him and you let exhaustion overtake you, sighing contentedly.

"I hate you sometimes" you mumble sleepily, though the affection in your tone conveys the true meaning of your words.

He chuckles, his chest vibrating against you. "And yet, here you are, letting me hold you. How peculiar."

"Shut up" you grumble, burying your face in his chest.

The first thing you notice when you wake is the warmth.

Alastor is still wrapped around you, his long limbs tangled with yours, his breath heavy and steady against the crown of your head. The weight of his arm draped over your waist is comforting, his fingers twitching in utter relaxation.

But there's something else here -the ache, insistent, stirring as you shift against him and even more as you breathe in his natural scent. You bite your lip, trying to ignore it, but the moment you press your thighs together, a soft whimper escapes you.

Alastor stirs immediately, his crimson eyes fluttering open.

"Hmm? What's the matter, my dear?"

His voice is thick with sleep, but his focus sharpens as he takes in your flushed cheeks and the restless way you're shifting.

"Nothing" you reply dismissively, though the way your body arches slightly against his betrays you.

He raises an eyebrow, a small, knowing smile tugging at his lips.

"You're not very convincing" he coos, his hand sliding down to rest on your hip. "Do you need something?"

You squirm under his gaze, your face heating up in both embarrassment and arousal.

"I woke up like this, okay?" you say defensively, frustrated tears prickling at the corners of your eyes.

His teasing demeanor shifts instantly, replaced by a tenderness that makes your chest ache.

"Oh, my poor thing"

He brushes a stray tear from your cheek with his thumb.

Before you can protest, his hand slides lower, his fingers finding your bundle of nerves with practiced ease -that he gained from your times together.

He moves slowly, coaxing soft gasps and whimpers from you.

"You're such a sensitive thing when you're in heat" he murmurs, his voice laced with awe.

"So perfect."

His touch is gentle but insistent, building you up until you're trembling. When you finally climax, it's softer than the night before but no less intense, leaving you breathless and boneless in his arms.

Alastor holds you close as you recover, his lips pressing soft kisses along your forehead and temple.

"Better?" he asks, his voice earnest and soothing.

You nod, burying your face against his neck. "Much better."

He chuckles, running his fingers through your hair. "I'll have to be more mindful of how easily I can wear you out."

You smack his chest lightly, earning another laugh, before settling back into the comfortable silence. As the morning light filters through the room, you let yourself relax, feeling safe and cherished in his arms.

"Thank you" you whisper, your voice barely audible.

He tilts your chin up, his red eyes meeting yours.

"Always" he replies softly, his antlers brushing yours in that gesture, hour gesture, yours and his -and it makes your heart ache.

In this moment, you realize there is no going back.

This isn't just fleeting indulgence -it's the beginning of something far deeper, something that feels as primal and undeniable as the instincts that brought you together.

You're his and he's yours. Forever.

To be continued.

Support the writer! Your tips keep me motivated to write!! Thank you so much for the contribution! ✨ CLICKHERE (PayPal link)

🎁 This chapter is part of the nymph's daily gifts!!!

masterlist || hazbin masterlist 🧡

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[greenandsorrow]

Turning this acc into a sub!Alastor Heaven as soon as I'm off the hook of this semester's exams! ✨✨

And I also have a House of the Dragon long ass oneshot I was working on back in summer and want to get back into.

And I need to feed the Gilmore girls fandom (and my Luke Danes addiction).

It's actually ridiculous how I'm more active on Tumblr during the exam period... But one can only learn so much about infant treatment and developmental psychology 😭 (I really like what I study and I'm grateful for my uni, but I am a procrastinating and easily bored creature.)

The general idea is that I'll finish the nymph's daily gifts and then answer your lovely, scrumptious reqs! (Around Valentine's Day)

I updated my queue so you can keep up with my weird self!

In general, your requests make me want to fast-forward to the post exam break so I can sit down and do them justice!

Thanks for being amazing! 🩷

I like the community of this blog, even though it's giving Split the movie, because my fandoms have no cohesiveness at all.

This yapping is probably my least proud moment grammatically, I'm sorry 🥹

[greenandsorrow]

A QUESTION FOR ALL THE FANDOMS THAT GET FED ON MY BLOG (I'm grateful for all of you btw♡<3)

[greenandsorrow]

I do also say in my req rules that I don't write master/slave dynamics, but in the Hazbin universe, when it comes to soul owners... I just take it as a bit more extreme power play/ imbalanced dynamic. No one is dumbificated or treated with no respect to the point of abuse. And it's consensual in the scenario you described on your rant! So all's well <3

oops i made that alastor x soul owner rant annd i just reread ur rules for request, sorry if it made u uncomfortable!! just ignore it if u dont care for it lol

Hi ✨🌷

You didn't make me uncomfortable, not at all actually 😅

Being passionate is different to being demanding! I do emphasize the importance of being kind in my req rules, but I'm not made of glass either.

And I do care for your rant!

That's the reason I haven't answered -YET.

I want to write something based on it, bc it gave me inspo (x soul owner, Alastor actually being happy with the arrangement and also incorporate the sub Alastor trope.)

I'll wait to see if anyone else requests some sub!Alastor goodness, to plan things out a lil better!

But your rant was enjoyable and welcome! Welcome enough to count as a req if you wish!

Thanks for checking in on me, ig. It was nice.

❣️

[greenandsorrow]

oops i made that alastor x soul owner rant annd i just reread ur rules for request, sorry if it made u uncomfortable!! just ignore it if u dont care for it lol

Hi ✨🌷

You didn't make me uncomfortable, not at all actually 😅

Being passionate is different to being demanding! I do emphasize the importance of being kind in my req rules, but I'm not made of glass either.

And I do care for your rant!

That's the reason I haven't answered -YET.

I want to write something based on it, bc it gave me inspo (x soul owner, Alastor actually being happy with the arrangement and also incorporate the sub Alastor trope.)

I'll wait to see if anyone else requests some sub!Alastor goodness, to plan things out a lil better!

But your rant was enjoyable and welcome! Welcome enough to count as a req if you wish!

Thanks for checking in on me, ig. It was nice.

❣️

[greenandsorrow]

the real villain in every story is a procrastination. no exceptions.

[greenandsorrow]

From the 19th of January to the 6th of February, my REQUEST WILL REMAIN OPEN ✨🌷🤍

After that time period, I'll take a two week break to work on them!

Requesting info/ rules

Fandoms/ characters I write for

How to support the writer

My masterlist

[greenandsorrow]

♥️♥️

the price for misbehaving (iii)

Alastor x gn!reader in heat

WARNINGS; explicit content, deer/doe!demon!reader with fem anatomy, needy!reader, soft-dom!Alastor, ovulation talk, horniness & hormones, breeding kink, primal instincts, mentions of deer mating season, cunningulus, penetrative sex, angst, comfort, fluff, wholesomeness, friends to lovers, smut with emotion, finding your forever mate, don't forget to use protection irl my loves

Dividers by; @saradika-graphics & @cafekitsune

Please do not repost or directly copy my work and don't use it on AI platforms either 🧡

Thank you so much for all the love and support!! And the relative patience. This is literally Part 1 but with the roles reversed. I hope you enjoy it and I promise that the finale won't take long!

For additional rut smut, check this out!

~masterpost~

After your first kiss, life went back to normal -well, for a month or so.

Friendly bickering, long conversations about everything and nothing, his unnerving yet strangely comforting presence always in reach...

Despite that normalcy, you realized Alastor's rut shook your quiet and uneventful life in an irreversible way. His musth has done more than leave you breathless... It has awakened something primal in you, too.

The fever hit you slowly. In the beginning, it was an ache in your limbs, a strange warmth in your chest, a restlessness in your thoughts. You blamed the sudden activeness of your sexual life during his rut.

But by the time your heat fully bloomed, there was no mistaking it.

The first wave came in the middle of an idle day, leaving you gripping the counter of the hotel's kitchen -a surge of warmth low in your belly and cramps in your bust.

A strangled laugh escaped you before you could stop it.

"Oh, this is just perfect~" you muttered, rubbing at the base of your antlers, trying to get rid of the sudden itch.

It was no use.

The itch persisted.

That smug bastard would love to know he had dragged you into this.

When Alastor arrived later, on that same evening, his tailored suit as sharp as ever and his grin sharper, you were already a bundle of nerves and hormones. His energy filled the room like crackling fire and the scent of him sent heat and moisture pooling between your thighs.

You crossed your arms, determined to ignore your physical reactions.

"You look flushed" Alastor commented, cocking his head inquisitively, crimson eyes glinting with slight amusement.

"Gee, I wonder why" you shot back, voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Maybe it's because someone's rut threw me into heat."

Alastor blinked, the teasing grin faltering just slightly. Then it returned, wider than before.

"Oh, my dear deer, I had no idea I had such an effect on you!"

"Don't flatter yourself~" you snapped, though your body betrayed you, leaning in.

He stepped closer, his long fingers brushing against your jawline.

"You're in heat..." he murmured, his voice low and deliberate. "...and you came to me?"

"I didn't just 'come to you'" you grumbled. "You're always here."

"Hmm" he mused, his gaze flicking to your slightly grown antlers. "It still is deer mating season, isn't it? Fascinating how instinct takes over."

You were at his radio tower, sitting on the little sofa he had fit in there. It was supposed to be a chill night, with you reading while he did his own thing. Despite the 'chill' part, as the night progressed, the tension between you became unbearable. Your mating instincts were undeniable -the flicks of your little tail, the darkened hue of your eyes, the way your antlers gleamed under the dim light.

"You're ovulating" Alastor said at some point, his tone both matter of factly and dangerously hungry.

"Don't say it like that..." you protested, face burning.

"But it's true" he retorted, leaning down, his sharp teeth grazing the shell of your ear. "And you smell divine."

Indeed.

Something had changed.

The silence that followed wasn't awkward. It was charged, humming with unspoken words. When he stood close to you again, you found yourself leaning into his space without even realizing it, drawn to the comforting, masculine warmth he offered.

And he let you.

Alastor Hartfelt -who once kept everyone at arm's length with his theatrical charm- has softened in ways you don't fully understand, nor anticipated. He lingers longer after your conversations and he smiles more -not the razor-sharp grin he uses for the world's eyes, but something more sincere, almost fond.

"Are you just going to stare, or are you planning on saying something?" you ask petulantly, trying to keep your voice light despite the strange heat creeping up your neck.

It's late in the afternoon.

"I find your company... pleasant" he simply answers, making your stomach flutter.

This is the closest thing to an admission you've ever gotten from him ...and it's enough, for now. See, you have been pestering him the whole day to tell Rosie about you and him, and when he stopped giving you attention, you had started crying in frustration.

It's true, your friendship has begun to shift into something more. It's not just the hormones that make you crave his touch... It's the way he treats you and it's also the way he makes you feel deep inside your condemned soul.

You remember the way he had looked at you during his rut -wildly, ravenously, yet with restraint, as if the mere idea of hurting you was repulsive to him. Even now, with your body betraying you, you know he'd never take more than you're willing to give.

The whole trust thing is what makes this so so maddening. It's intimate in ways neither of you is familiar with.

"Are you always this quiet during mating season?" he addresses you playfully, breaking the silence as you pace your small bedroom back and forth -trying to burn off the restless energy coursing through you.

"Only when someone else's rut has completely broken my biological clock" you shoot back, throwing him a glare over your shoulder.

His laugh is rich and warm, a sound that -to your dismay- sends shivers down your spine.

"You're welcome."

"Oh, you think you're so funny!" you exclaim, frustrated, but the corners of your lips betray you, twitching into a reluctant smile.

"Amusing enough to not kick me out, it seems."

This whole ordeal has to be one of the rare occasions where Alastor isn't trying to show off -when it comes to actions, because this man has an unstoppable flare when it comes to words.

And it starts out small, so small you almost don't notice it.

The radio demon isn't exactly a coddling or hovering guy, but after his rut, he begins stepping in. He pulls out your chair before you sit, hands you things before you can ask and walks you everywhere, even when you insist you don't need any company.

When your heat starts creeping in, it's not just his presence that comforts you -it is the way he seems to know, instinctively, what you need.

As the "heat wave" progresses, he becomes more and more protective -proactive as well.

Alastor is always watching, always listening. A step ahead of you at every turn. He hands you a glass of water before you realize how dry your throat is, pulls the curtains closed when the sunlight feels too harsh to your easily overstimulated system.

"Eat" he commands one evening, setting a plate in front of you without the usual fanfare.

His tone is brisk, but his eyes linger on yours, soft and unreadable.

"I'm not hungry" you whine softly, crossing your arms.

"You'll need your strength" he explains, unbothered by your defiance.

His insistence would've been annoying if it weren't so... sweet.

He doesn't push further, just stays nearby, humming an old tune as you reluctantly take a bite.

It only gets worse from here.

Every sound is amplified to the point of distraction and most smells make you dizzy and fussy.

Now, you are pacing around all the time.

Alastor stays silent during those restless times, watching you with a focus that would unnerve any other sinner. However, all it makes you feel is frustration.

"Stop staring! You're always doing that and I'm sick of it, Al!" you lash out, rubbing at your temples.

"You, stop fidgeting and moving" he retorts.

"Excuse me?! What- what do you want me to do? Sit still and burn alive?"

His grin softens, replaced by something calmer and more serious.

"You're not alone in this."

The words shouldn't mean as much as they do, but they hit something deep in you. Alastor -your oldest friend- is here, grounding you when your own body betrays you.

"You don't owe me anything, if that's why you've stuck around after... you know what." you say, pacing the room for what must be the fifth time this evening.

When you stumble, knees buckling from the ache between your thighs, he catches you before you hit the floor. His hands are firm yet cautious, holding you like you might shatter.

"Careful" he says softly, his crimson eyes meeting yours. "I've got you."

His antlers brush against yours as he guides you to your single bed, the accidental contact sending a shiver down your spine. His scent fills your senses -practically intoxicating you- and you start rubbing against him, unconsciously.

"Alastor? ...why are you being so nice to me?" you mutter, your voice muffled against his shoulder.

"Because I care" he replies simply -and for once, there is no teasing in his voice.

"You're hovering a little too much these days" you grumble weakly.

He doesn't flinch. "I'm making myself useful."

His calmness infuriates you, mostly because he's right. Everything he does is perfectly timed, perfectly measured -and it leaves you feeling raw and exposed. It's like he can see every vulnerable part of you, laid bare without your permission.

You're being driven insane by the constant heat and ache, the gnawing need that you are aware you can't satisfy on your own.

And Alastor's constant presence doesn't help your raging progesterone. (I'm sorry)

"I don't like you treating me like I'm about to fall apart~"

He tilts his head, antlers catching the soft light as he studies your frame in his arms. "You're not yourself right now. Someone has to keep an eye on you."

You huff, face hot, hands curling into fists. "I'm fine, Alastor. I'm not some delicate flower that needs-"

"You almost fell. Clearly, you're perfectly fine..." he says, his tone laced with dry amusement.

You huff at that.

You want to snap at him again, to push him away, to hit him even, but his scent is everywhere -woody and sweet, warm and grounding. It clouds your mind, the primal part of you drawn to him despite your pride.

"Let go" you say under your breath, the words lacking conviction.

"I don't think I will."

Alastor's grip is strong, but not uncomfortable, his thumbs brushing over your arms in a way that makes your breath hitch.

"Not when you're like this."

You swallow hard, caught between the familiar frustration and the embarrassing comfort his touch brings. The heat pooling low in your belly grows with every brush of his fingers and you hate how you want more.

"Like what?!" you eventually snap again, though your voice wavers.

"Overheating? Aching? On the verge of snapping at me for simply breathing in your direction?"

His tone is light and teasing, but there's an edge of knowing behind it and it makes you freeze. Makes you remember the state he was in only a few weeks ago.

Your silence betrays you and his grin widens, smug and victorious.

"That's what I thought."

You glare at him, still resisting his soothing touches. "I'm not some helpless little fawn, Alastor."

"No, you're not" he agrees, eyes gleaming.

"You're stubborn, snippy, and-" his gaze drifts over you and his voice drops. "...painfully uncomfortable."

The honesty in his tone catches you off guard and before you can argue AGAIN, he presses a steady hand on your shoulder, guiding you to lay down.

"Humor me. Just this once, y/n."

Reluctantly, you comply, but not without crossing your arms over your chest.

"Fine. But this doesn't mean I need you."

"Of course not" he says with a smile that borders on condescending.

You open your mouth to retort once more, but the words die in your throat when Alastor's palms land on your shoulders.

His warmth seeps through your shirt and when he starts to knead the tension there, a low moan escapes from you.

"Goodness" he teases, his thumbs working into a particularly tight knot. "Is this where all your attitude is hiding?"

"Shut up" you mutter, while unabashedly rolling so you're laying on your stomach, giving him better access.

His touch is phenomenal, long fingers tracing over the muscles of your neck and shoulders with a precision that makes you shiver all over.

It feels too good -too intimate- but you can't bring yourself to pull away.

"Your antlers must be killing you" he observes after a long moment of silence, his hands drifting up to brush the base of them.

The sensation sends a spark between your thighs and you have to swallow a grunt to appear composed.

"They're doing fine" you lie, but the way you perk your head up and toward his touch betrays you.

"Mantè" he murmurs, his voice low and amused.

"I'm not lying!" you whine and he shushes you with a cheeky look.

You sit up a little, petulantly.

When his touch moves to the space between your antlers, you let out a soft, involuntary gasp.

He stills, his sharp grin fading as his eyes meet yours.

"Ah" he says softly, his tone more curious than mocking. "Sensitive, aren't we?"

"Don't~" you warn, but it comes out weak and breathless.

"Don't what?"

His fingers start to move again -slowly and deliberately- and your body betrays you completely. A whimper escapes your lips this time and his smile turns wicked.

"Don't do this?"

You don't answer, biting your lip to stifle another sound, but he hears it anyway.

"You're tense everywhere" he taunts, his hands sliding down to your shoulders again. "Let me help."

Your heart pounds in your chest as his hands drift lower, skimming your sides, his touch intent but not quite crossing any lines. Yet.

"Alastor" you breathe, his name slipping past your lips without thinking.

"Yes, my dear?" he replies in a velvet-smooth voice, but there's a flicker of something darker in his gaze now. Something primal.

"Is this-"

You pause, swallowing hard.

"Is this a bad idea?"

His grin softens and now there's no teasing in his voice. "Not if you want it."

"Just- just rub my back a little more."

"As you wish, my dear~"

Soon, the tension reaches a breaking point.

You pull away from his hands abruptly.

Your antlers scrape the bed's headboard, a dull throb blooming at their base -and it's the last straw.

"Enough!" you half-shout and half-whine, voice cracking in despair. "I can't- I can't take this anymore!"

Alastor's eyes widen as he watches you start pacing around once more, but this time with your hands tagging at your hair.

"It's too much!" you continue, your voice rising with every word. "Everything hurts, everything burns! And I feel like I'm crawling out of my own skin! And you-"

You whirl to face him, your vision blurring at the edges. "You're not helping me at all! You're just- just there! Smiling and being smug and-"

Your words break off into a choked sob and before you can stop yourself, the tears come. You press your palms to your face, trying to stifle the sounds, but it's impossible.

The silence stretches, heavy.

Then, there's movement -soft and careful. Alastor approaches slowly, his usual energy toned down.

"Darling…" he speaks softly, his voice stripped of its previous amusement.

"Don't- Not again~" you start as well, your words muffled behind your trembling hands.

But when his arms come around you, warm and steady and so secure, you don't push him away.

He holds you without a word, his chin resting on your shoulder as you shake against him.

"I didn't realize" he explains, regretful. "I thought teasing would help distract you, not… make you cry."

You shake your head, your tears soaking into his shirt.

"It's not your fault" you manage, though the words feel hollow.

He pulls back just enough to meet your watery eyes, his hands cupping your face with surprising gentleness.

"Let's do it right, hm? No games. No teasing. Just… let me take care of you, just like you took care of me when I needed you most. How does that sound to my dearest deer?"

Something in his tone breaks through the overwhelming haze of lust you're currently experiencing.

You nod -a small, shaky movement.

"Good."

He guides you back onto the bed, his movements unhurried this time. As your back meets the mattress, he slips his arms under your knees, his long fingers trailing up your oversensitive thighs, making your breath hitch.

"Relax" he says, his voice soothing. "I only want to help."

You nod again, your body trembling as his hands slip beneath the waistband of your PJ shorts, pulling them down with care.

His crimson gaze flicks up to meet yours -checking- and when you don't stop him, he leans in.

The first touch of his tongue is toe curling -to say the least- and you gasp loudly, your hands fisting the fabric of his shirt. He hums against you, the sound vibrating through your core... and you can't help the whimper that escapes your lips.

"Just like that" he praises, his voice muffled against your wetness, and he gets to work -tongue moving in slow, measured strokes.

Your head falls back against one pillow, your breathing ragged as the tension in your body finally starts to unravel. Alastor's hands grip your thighs, holding you steady and open for him.

When you glance down, the sight of him -his sharp antlers gently scratching your abdomen and thighs, his bright eyes half-lidded and focused on your sex- sends a fresh wave of heat through you.

"Alastor" you moan, your voice trembling uncontrollably.

He pulls back just enough to smirk up at you, though it's softer than before. "Yes, my dear?"

"Don't you dare stop" you whisper and his smile fades into something more tender and loving.

"Never" he promises, diving back in.

When you finally fall apart, your body shaking with the force of it, he doesn't move away an inch. He stays with you, his touch grounding, his lips pressing soft kisses on the sensitive skin of your thighs and belly.

When you come down and while your body is still writhing, he rises, his hands now sliding under your arms to pull you up gently. He sits back, guiding you to straddle his lap.

"Are you alright?" he asks, his voice soft, his eyes searching yours.

You nod, your hands resting on his chest. "I… I need more" you admit, your voice barely above a whisper.

Something flickers in his gaze -desire, longing, maybe even excitement.

"I'm at your disposal."

He lifts you effortlessly, shifting you beneath him as he leans over, his body caging yours -without pressing down.

His antlers brush yours, the contact sending shivers through your whole body and it feels all tingly, and then his lips meet yours in a kiss that's surprisingly tender.

The moment he pushes into you, slow and careful, your breath catches. He stills, his forehead resting against yours.

A deep ache blooms where you've been craving him most. You can feel every ridge and every vein, the way his length stretches you, filling you completely. It's overwhelming in the best way.

"Are you alright?" he asks again, his voice barely audible.

"Yes" you breathe, wrapping your legs around his waist.

"Please, Al~"

"I had missed feeling you around me."

Neither of you expected this choice of words from him. If anything, it's what a couple...-

He doesn't wait for you to answer though.

Alastor begins to move, his pace measured, his hands cradling your hips as if you might break without the support. But there's an intensity in his gaze, a primal hunger that simmers just beneath the surface.

Missionary should never be underestimated. The eye contact, the emotional closeness, the way you can easily bring him down for a kiss, or run your fingers through his hair -that's starting to curl from all the sweat- make the experience so fulfilling to you frayed nerves.

Alastor keeps his body aligned with yours as he presses his forehead to your own. The heat radiating off his skin feels almost suffocating, but it also grounds you in the moment.

"Too much?" he whispers, his voice steady despite the faint tremor of his breath.

His antlers gently bump into yours once more and the sweet intimacy of the gesture makes your chest tighten.

"No" you manage, though the word is barely coherent. "It's perfect."

He groans softly at that, his hips shifting slightly so he can go even deeper.

"You're stunning" he murmurs mid thrust, his fingers tracing the contours of your face, before slipping lower, back on your hip. "Do you know that?"

You don't answer -can't answer. His thrusts are slow, the kind of pace that forces you to feel everything. It's maddening, the way he pulls out so slowly, only to push back in with measured precision, the friction setting your nerves alight.

Your body responds instinctively, your legs wrapping tighter around his waist, pulling him deeper. Each thrust sends a jolt of pleasure through you, the pressure building low in your belly.

"Alastor~"

"Y/n?"

His tone is still soft, but now edged with restraint, as though he's holding himself back.

"Faster" you plead, your nails digging into his shoulders. "Pretty please."

He hesitates, his crimson eyes searching yours, before his control slips. His hips snap forward -harder this time- and you cry out, your back arching off the mattress.

"That's it" he groans, his voice rougher now, the sharp tips of his antlers grazing yours with every thrust.

Your body trembles beneath him, more and more intensely, heat pooling tight in your core. The pleasure builds steadily, each thrust pushing you closer to the edge, until it becomes almost unbearable.

"Alastor, I-"

Your words falter, your breath hitching as the tension in your belly coils even tighter, ready to snap -for the second time tonight.

His hand slides down, his thumb finding your swollen clit. The touch is feather-light at first, but when you whimper and whine, he applies more pressure, circling it in time with his thrusts.

"Come for me" he coaxes.

"Let go. I've got you, love."

The combination of his touch, his voice and what he just called you, the steady rhythm of his hips... It's all too much.

The tension snaps and your orgasm hits you hard, body convulsing as pleasure crashes over you time and time again. Your legs spasm around his waist, your head falling back as a cry tears from your lips. The sensation is sharp and all-consuming, your vision turns white.

"So good" he marvels while his hands remain on your hips, grounding you as you ride out the last waves of your climax. "You're breathtaking."

The aftershocks start to ripple through you. Despite your body feeling boneless, your chest is still heaving quite a lot.

Alastor doesn't stop moving, but his pace slows, his touches gentle and reverent.

When your vision returns, you see his gaze on you, filled with something soft and unspoken.

"Are you alright?" he asks again, his voice low, a hint of uncertainty breaking through his usual confidence.

You nod, a shaky smile appearing on your flushed face.

"More than alright" you whisper, your hands coming up to cup his face.

He smiles back at you, leaning down to press a deep kiss to your lips.

"I'm glad, because I need just a little more to~ You know..."

How he can fuck you all the way up to Heaven, but shy away when it comes to voicing the simplest of things will always be beyond you. Still, you're too satisfied and sated to bring it up and tease him right now.

You're actually so sated you barely register his orgasm.

When Alastor finally slows, his movements become languid, savoring the last few moments of connection.

He presses a kiss against your temple as he pulls out, carefully.

A deep warmth lingers in your core, a mix of his seed and your own juices slipping out, leaving you feeling full and entirely undone.

"Sleepy?"

"You have no idea."

Your lover's gaze gets fixed on where you're leaking onto the bed sheets and he doesn't try to hide his possessive and proud expression.

You let out a little noise as the slickness spreads, shifting uncomfortably.

"Sticky" you mutter, your voice still weak from the intensity of your release.

He chuckles, going back to amused, before leaning down to press another kiss to your lips.

"I'll take care of it."

True to his word, he disappears briefly and returns with a warm, damp towel. He cleans you gently, murmuring soothing words each time you shiver from the sensation.

When he's finished, he wraps you in a soft blanket he finds on a nearby chair and gathers you into his arms -his antlers brushing yours in the tender gesture you both seem to love.

"You're safe" he whispers, cradling you close against his chest. "Alastor got you."

Your body melts into him and you let exhaustion overtake you, sighing contentedly.

"I hate you sometimes" you mumble sleepily, though the affection in your tone conveys the true meaning of your words.

He chuckles, his chest vibrating against you. "And yet, here you are, letting me hold you. How peculiar."

"Shut up" you grumble, burying your face in his chest.

The first thing you notice when you wake is the warmth.

Alastor is still wrapped around you, his long limbs tangled with yours, his breath heavy and steady against the crown of your head. The weight of his arm draped over your waist is comforting, his fingers twitching in utter relaxation.

But there's something else here -the ache, insistent, stirring as you shift against him and even more as you breathe in his natural scent. You bite your lip, trying to ignore it, but the moment you press your thighs together, a soft whimper escapes you.

Alastor stirs immediately, his crimson eyes fluttering open.

"Hmm? What's the matter, my dear?"

His voice is thick with sleep, but his focus sharpens as he takes in your flushed cheeks and the restless way you're shifting.

"Nothing" you reply dismissively, though the way your body arches slightly against his betrays you.

He raises an eyebrow, a small, knowing smile tugging at his lips.

"You're not very convincing" he coos, his hand sliding down to rest on your hip. "Do you need something?"

You squirm under his gaze, your face heating up in both embarrassment and arousal.

"I woke up like this, okay?" you say defensively, frustrated tears prickling at the corners of your eyes.

His teasing demeanor shifts instantly, replaced by a tenderness that makes your chest ache.

"Oh, my poor thing"

He brushes a stray tear from your cheek with his thumb.

Before you can protest, his hand slides lower, his fingers finding your bundle of nerves with practiced ease -that he gained from your times together.

He moves slowly, coaxing soft gasps and whimpers from you.

"You're such a sensitive thing when you're in heat" he murmurs, his voice laced with awe.

"So perfect."

His touch is gentle but insistent, building you up until you're trembling. When you finally climax, it's softer than the night before but no less intense, leaving you breathless and boneless in his arms.

Alastor holds you close as you recover, his lips pressing soft kisses along your forehead and temple.

"Better?" he asks, his voice earnest and soothing.

You nod, burying your face against his neck. "Much better."

He chuckles, running his fingers through your hair. "I'll have to be more mindful of how easily I can wear you out."

You smack his chest lightly, earning another laugh, before settling back into the comfortable silence. As the morning light filters through the room, you let yourself relax, feeling safe and cherished in his arms.

"Thank you" you whisper, your voice barely audible.

He tilts your chin up, his red eyes meeting yours.

"Always" he replies softly, his antlers brushing yours in that gesture, hour gesture, yours and his -and it makes your heart ache.

In this moment, you realize there is no going back.

This isn't just fleeting indulgence -it's the beginning of something far deeper, something that feels as primal and undeniable as the instincts that brought you together.

You're his and he's yours. Forever.

To be continued.

Support the writer! Your tips keep me motivated to write!! Thank you so much for the contribution! ✨ CLICKHERE (PayPal link)

🎁 This chapter is part of the nymph's daily gifts!!!

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[greenandsorrow]

From the 19th of January to the 6th of February, my REQUEST WILL REMAIN OPEN ✨🌷🤍

After that time period, I'll take a two week break to work on them!

Requesting info/ rules

Fandoms/ characters I write for

How to support the writer

My masterlist

[greenandsorrow]

Requests are currently; OPEN

(approximately two weeks open and then two weeks to be answered)

Things to consider ✨🧚‍♀️

First things first, send your request ONLY WHEN REQUESTS ARE OPEN. Otherwise, it'll probably be deleted or extremely delayed.

I need to be familiar with the character/fandom in order to accept your req. I've dedicated a whole post to list off which fandoms/characters I write for.

I have the right to decline/delete your request if I can't see myself writing it. If you're rude and/or demanding, I won't accept for sure.

I usually don't do ships between characters, unless I'm super intrigued by them.

I mostly write fem!readers and gn!readers. I've never written a male!reader, but I'm willing to try!

I'm not fond of aging up underage characters for smut's sake. Not at all.

I write platonic, sfw and nsfw fics and I'm okay with most kinks. (Dub-con tropes have a much higher risk of being declined.)

One shots, (n)sfw alphabets, headcanons, drabbles, my thoughts and descriptions are all things you can ask for freely.

I don't accept anything that has to do with harmful, too triggering or literally illegal themes (r@pe, p3dophilia, racism, homophobia, excessive gore, necrophilia, incest, etc).

I'll never write for piss and scat, nor about master/mistress and slave/pet dynamics.

I'm not doing pregnancy tropes rn!

Details help me understand what you envision!!! Specify the gender of the reader, the setting, whether it's an established relationship or not. Anything particular you want to see in the finished work.

Be nice when requesting:) I'm a human being with emotions after all! I want to feel respected by you, so we can communicate better.

Tips are deeply appreciated for my hard work!

With love, Ophelia 🩷

the masterlist

fandoms & characters

[greenandsorrow]

what is ur opinion on sub alastor?? bcs personally i love it but nobody writes it 😭

Hi anon❣️

I'm the biggest switch to ever switch, so I love to see my fave fictional men both as doms and as subs (depending on my mood)!

Most (if not all) characters have a plethora of traits that we can translate as we wish for them to be either dom or sub, even switches.

So I can definitely see Alastor being all sorts of submissive in smutty situations.

I haven't explored the sub!Alastor possibility much. The closest I've gotten is in "Morning Wood".

But I'm also very very open in writing a submissive and breedable Alastor. The possibilities are endless!

If you really crave sub Alastor content, send your req! I was gonna open my reqs anyway! And include anything specific you'd like to see (details, certain dynamics etc).

[greenandsorrow]

the price for misbehaving (iii)

Alastor x gn!reader in heat

WARNINGS; explicit content, deer/doe!demon!reader with fem anatomy, needy!reader, soft-dom!Alastor, ovulation talk, horniness & hormones, breeding kink, primal instincts, mentions of deer mating season, cunningulus, penetrative sex, angst, comfort, fluff, wholesomeness, friends to lovers, smut with emotion, finding your forever mate, don't forget to use protection irl my loves

Dividers by; @saradika-graphics & @cafekitsune

Please do not repost or directly copy my work and don't use it on AI platforms either 🧡

Thank you so much for all the love and support!! And the relative patience. This is literally Part 1 but with the roles reversed. I hope you enjoy it and I promise that the finale won't take long!

For additional rut smut, check this out!

~masterpost~

After your first kiss, life went back to normal -well, for a month or so.

Friendly bickering, long conversations about everything and nothing, his unnerving yet strangely comforting presence always in reach...

Despite that normalcy, you realized Alastor's rut shook your quiet and uneventful life in an irreversible way. His musth has done more than leave you breathless... It has awakened something primal in you, too.

The fever hit you slowly. In the beginning, it was an ache in your limbs, a strange warmth in your chest, a restlessness in your thoughts. You blamed the sudden activeness of your sexual life during his rut.

But by the time your heat fully bloomed, there was no mistaking it.

The first wave came in the middle of an idle day, leaving you gripping the counter of the hotel's kitchen -a surge of warmth low in your belly and cramps in your bust.

A strangled laugh escaped you before you could stop it.

"Oh, this is just perfect~" you muttered, rubbing at the base of your antlers, trying to get rid of the sudden itch.

It was no use.

The itch persisted.

That smug bastard would love to know he had dragged you into this.

When Alastor arrived later, on that same evening, his tailored suit as sharp as ever and his grin sharper, you were already a bundle of nerves and hormones. His energy filled the room like crackling fire and the scent of him sent heat and moisture pooling between your thighs.

You crossed your arms, determined to ignore your physical reactions.

"You look flushed" Alastor commented, cocking his head inquisitively, crimson eyes glinting with slight amusement.

"Gee, I wonder why" you shot back, voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Maybe it's because someone's rut threw me into heat."

Alastor blinked, the teasing grin faltering just slightly. Then it returned, wider than before.

"Oh, my dear deer, I had no idea I had such an effect on you!"

"Don't flatter yourself~" you snapped, though your body betrayed you, leaning in.

He stepped closer, his long fingers brushing against your jawline.

"You're in heat..." he murmured, his voice low and deliberate. "...and you came to me?"

"I didn't just 'come to you'" you grumbled. "You're always here."

"Hmm" he mused, his gaze flicking to your slightly grown antlers. "It still is deer mating season, isn't it? Fascinating how instinct takes over."

You were at his radio tower, sitting on the little sofa he had fit in there. It was supposed to be a chill night, with you reading while he did his own thing. Despite the 'chill' part, as the night progressed, the tension between you became unbearable. Your mating instincts were undeniable -the flicks of your little tail, the darkened hue of your eyes, the way your antlers gleamed under the dim light.

"You're ovulating" Alastor said at some point, his tone both matter of factly and dangerously hungry.

"Don't say it like that..." you protested, face burning.

"But it's true" he retorted, leaning down, his sharp teeth grazing the shell of your ear. "And you smell divine."

Indeed.

Something had changed.

The silence that followed wasn't awkward. It was charged, humming with unspoken words. When he stood close to you again, you found yourself leaning into his space without even realizing it, drawn to the comforting, masculine warmth he offered.

And he let you.

Alastor Hartfelt -who once kept everyone at arm's length with his theatrical charm- has softened in ways you don't fully understand, nor anticipated. He lingers longer after your conversations and he smiles more -not the razor-sharp grin he uses for the world's eyes, but something more sincere, almost fond.

"Are you just going to stare, or are you planning on saying something?" you ask petulantly, trying to keep your voice light despite the strange heat creeping up your neck.

It's late in the afternoon.

"I find your company... pleasant" he simply answers, making your stomach flutter.

This is the closest thing to an admission you've ever gotten from him ...and it's enough, for now. See, you have been pestering him the whole day to tell Rosie about you and him, and when he stopped giving you attention, you had started crying in frustration.

It's true, your friendship has begun to shift into something more. It's not just the hormones that make you crave his touch... It's the way he treats you and it's also the way he makes you feel deep inside your condemned soul.

You remember the way he had looked at you during his rut -wildly, ravenously, yet with restraint, as if the mere idea of hurting you was repulsive to him. Even now, with your body betraying you, you know he'd never take more than you're willing to give.

The whole trust thing is what makes this so so maddening. It's intimate in ways neither of you is familiar with.

"Are you always this quiet during mating season?" he addresses you playfully, breaking the silence as you pace your small bedroom back and forth -trying to burn off the restless energy coursing through you.

"Only when someone else's rut has completely broken my biological clock" you shoot back, throwing him a glare over your shoulder.

His laugh is rich and warm, a sound that -to your dismay- sends shivers down your spine.

"You're welcome."

"Oh, you think you're so funny!" you exclaim, frustrated, but the corners of your lips betray you, twitching into a reluctant smile.

"Amusing enough to not kick me out, it seems."

This whole ordeal has to be one of the rare occasions where Alastor isn't trying to show off -when it comes to actions, because this man has an unstoppable flare when it comes to words.

And it starts out small, so small you almost don't notice it.

The radio demon isn't exactly a coddling or hovering guy, but after his rut, he begins stepping in. He pulls out your chair before you sit, hands you things before you can ask and walks you everywhere, even when you insist you don't need any company.

When your heat starts creeping in, it's not just his presence that comforts you -it is the way he seems to know, instinctively, what you need.

As the "heat wave" progresses, he becomes more and more protective -proactive as well.

Alastor is always watching, always listening. A step ahead of you at every turn. He hands you a glass of water before you realize how dry your throat is, pulls the curtains closed when the sunlight feels too harsh to your easily overstimulated system.

"Eat" he commands one evening, setting a plate in front of you without the usual fanfare.

His tone is brisk, but his eyes linger on yours, soft and unreadable.

"I'm not hungry" you whine softly, crossing your arms.

"You'll need your strength" he explains, unbothered by your defiance.

His insistence would've been annoying if it weren't so... sweet.

He doesn't push further, just stays nearby, humming an old tune as you reluctantly take a bite.

It only gets worse from here.

Every sound is amplified to the point of distraction and most smells make you dizzy and fussy.

Now, you are pacing around all the time.

Alastor stays silent during those restless times, watching you with a focus that would unnerve any other sinner. However, all it makes you feel is frustration.

"Stop staring! You're always doing that and I'm sick of it, Al!" you lash out, rubbing at your temples.

"You, stop fidgeting and moving" he retorts.

"Excuse me?! What- what do you want me to do? Sit still and burn alive?"

His grin softens, replaced by something calmer and more serious. "You're not alone in this."

The words shouldn't mean as much as they do, but they hit something deep in you. Alastor -your oldest friend- is here, grounding you when your own body betrays you.

"You don't owe me anything, if that's why you've stuck around after... you know what." you say, pacing the room for what must be the fifth time this evening.

When you stumble, knees buckling from the ache between your thighs, he catches you before you hit the floor. His hands are firm yet cautious, holding you like you might shatter.

"Careful" he says softly, his crimson eyes meeting yours. "I've got you."

His antlers brush against yours as he guides you to your single bed, the accidental contact sending a shiver down your spine. His scent fills your senses -practically intoxicating you- and you start rubbing against him, unconsciously.

"Alastor? ...why are you being so nice to me?" you mutter, your voice muffled against his shoulder.

"Because I care" he replies simply -and for once, there is no teasing in his voice.

"You're hovering a little too much these days" you grumble weakly.

He doesn't flinch. "I'm making myself useful."

His calmness infuriates you, mostly because he's right. Everything he does is perfectly timed, perfectly measured -and it leaves you feeling raw and exposed. It's like he can see every vulnerable part of you, laid bare without your permission.

You're being driven insane by the constant heat and ache, the gnawing need that you are aware you can't satisfy on your own.

And Alastor's constant presence doesn't help your raging progesterone. (I'm sorry)

"I don't like you treating me like I'm about to fall apart~"

He tilts his head, antlers catching the soft light as he studies your frame in his arms. "You're not yourself right now. Someone has to keep an eye on you."

You huff, face hot, hands curling into fists. "I'm fine, Alastor. I'm not some delicate flower that needs-"

"You almost fell. Clearly, you're perfectly fine..." he says, his tone laced with dry amusement.

You huff at that.

You want to snap at him again, to push him away, to hit him even, but his scent is everywhere -woody and sweet, warm and grounding. It clouds your mind, the primal part of you drawn to him despite your pride.

"Let go" you say under your breath, the words lacking conviction.

"I don't think I will."

Alastor's grip is strong, but not uncomfortable, his thumbs brushing over your arms in a way that makes your breath hitch.

"Not when you're like this."

You swallow hard, caught between the familiar frustration and the embarrassing comfort his touch brings. The heat pooling low in your belly grows with every brush of his fingers and you hate how you want more.

"Like what?!" you eventually snap again, though your voice wavers.

"Overheating? Aching? On the verge of snapping at me for simply breathing in your direction?"

His tone is light and teasing, but there's an edge of knowing behind it and it makes you freeze. Makes you remember the state he was in only a few weeks ago.

Your silence betrays you and his grin widens, smug and victorious.

"That's what I thought."

You glare at him, still resisting his soothing touches. "I'm not some helpless little fawn, Alastor."

"No, you're not" he agrees, eyes gleaming.

"You're stubborn, snippy, and-" his gaze drifts over you and his voice drops. "...painfully uncomfortable."

The honesty in his tone catches you off guard and before you can argue AGAIN, he presses a steady hand on your shoulder, guiding you to lay down.

"Humor me. Just this once, y/n."

Reluctantly, you comply, but not without crossing your arms over your chest.

"Fine. But this doesn't mean I need you."

"Of course not" he says with a smile that borders on condescending.

You open your mouth to retort once more, but the words die in your throat when Alastor's palms land on your shoulders.

His warmth seeps through your shirt and when he starts to knead the tension there, a low moan escapes from you.

"Goodness" he teases, his thumbs working into a particularly tight knot. "Is this where all your attitude is hiding?"

"Shut up" you mutter, while unabashedly rolling so you're laying on your stomach, giving him better access.

His touch is phenomenal, long fingers tracing over the muscles of your neck and shoulders with a precision that makes you shiver all over.

It feels too good -too intimate- but you can't bring yourself to pull away.

"Your antlers must be killing you" he observes after a long moment of silence, his hands drifting up to brush the base of them.

The sensation sends a spark between your thighs and you have to swallow a grunt to appear composed.

"They're doing fine" you lie, but the way you perk your head up and toward his touch betrays you.

"Mantè" he murmurs, his voice low and amused.

"I'm not lying!" you whine and he shushes you with a cheeky look.

You sit up a little, petulantly.

When his touch moves to the space between your antlers, you let out a soft, involuntary gasp.

He stills, his sharp grin fading as his eyes meet yours.

"Ah" he says softly, his tone more curious than mocking. "Sensitive, aren't we?"

"Don't~" you warn, but it comes out weak and breathless.

"Don't what?"

His fingers start to move again -slowly and deliberately- and your body betrays you completely. A whimper escapes your lips this time and his smile turns wicked.

"Don't do this?"

You don't answer, biting your lip to stifle another sound, but he hears it anyway.

"You're tense everywhere" he taunts, his hands sliding down to your shoulders again. "Let me help."

Your heart pounds in your chest as his hands drift lower, skimming your sides, his touch intent but not quite crossing any lines. Yet.

"Alastor" you breathe, his name slipping past your lips without thinking.

"Yes, my dear?" he replies in a velvet-smooth voice, but there's a flicker of something darker in his gaze now. Something primal.

"Is this-"

You pause, swallowing hard.

"Is this a bad idea?"

His grin softens and now there's no teasing in his voice. "Not if you want it."

"Just- just rub my back a little more."

"As you wish, my dear~"

Soon, the tension reaches a breaking point.

You pull away from his hands abruptly.

Your antlers scrape the bed's headboard, a dull throb blooming at their base -and it's the last straw.

"Enough!" you half-shout and half-whine, voice cracking in despair. "I can't- I can't take this anymore!"

Alastor's eyes widen as he watches you start pacing around once more, but this time with your hands tagging at your hair.

"It's too much!" you continue, your voice rising with every word. "Everything hurts, everything burns! And I feel like I'm crawling out of my own skin! And you-"

You whirl to face him, your vision blurring at the edges. "You're not helping me at all! You're just- just there! Smiling and being smug and-"

Your words break off into a choked sob and before you can stop yourself, the tears come. You press your palms to your face, trying to stifle the sounds, but it's impossible.

The silence stretches, heavy.

Then, there's movement -soft and careful. Alastor approaches slowly, his usual energy toned down.

"Darling…" he speaks softly, his voice stripped of its previous amusement.

"Don't- Not again~" you start as well, your words muffled behind your trembling hands.

But when his arms come around you, warm and steady and so secure, you don't push him away.

He holds you without a word, his chin resting on your shoulder as you shake against him.

"I didn't realize" he explains, regretful. "I thought teasing would help distract you, not… make you cry."

You shake your head, your tears soaking into his shirt.

"It's not your fault" you manage, though the words feel hollow.

He pulls back just enough to meet your watery eyes, his hands cupping your face with surprising gentleness.

"Let's do it right, hm? No games. No teasing. Just… let me take care of you, just like you took care of me when I needed you most. How does that sound to my dearest deer?"

Something in his tone breaks through the overwhelming haze of lust you're currently experiencing.

You nod -a small, shaky movement.

"Good."

He guides you back onto the bed, his movements unhurried this time. As your back meets the mattress, he slips his arms under your knees, his long fingers trailing up your oversensitive thighs, making your breath hitch.

"Relax" he says, his voice soothing. "I only want to help."

You nod again, your body trembling as his hands slip beneath the waistband of your PJ shorts, pulling them down with care.

His crimson gaze flicks up to meet yours -checking- and when you don't stop him, he leans in.

The first touch of his tongue is toe curling -to say the least- and you gasp loudly, your hands fisting the fabric of his shirt. He hums against you, the sound vibrating through your core... and you can't help the whimper that escapes your lips.

"Just like that" he praises, his voice muffled against your wetness, and he gets to work -tongue moving in slow, measured strokes.

Your head falls back against one pillow, your breathing ragged as the tension in your body finally starts to unravel. Alastor's hands grip your thighs, holding you steady and open for him.

When you glance down, the sight of him -his sharp antlers gently scratching your abdomen and thighs, his bright eyes half-lidded and focused on your sex- sends a fresh wave of heat through you.

"Alastor" you moan, your voice trembling uncontrollably.

He pulls back just enough to smirk up at you, though it's softer than before. "Yes, my dear?"

"Don't you dare stop" you whisper and his smile fades into something more tender and loving.

"Never" he promises, diving back in.

When you finally fall apart, your body shaking with the force of it, he doesn't move away an inch. He stays with you, his touch grounding, his lips pressing soft kisses on the sensitive skin of your thighs and belly.

When you come down and while your body is still writhing, he rises, his hands now sliding under your arms to pull you up gently. He sits back, guiding you to straddle his lap.

"Are you alright?" he asks, his voice soft, his eyes searching yours.

You nod, your hands resting on his chest. "I… I need more" you admit, your voice barely above a whisper.

Something flickers in his gaze -desire, longing, maybe even excitement.

"I'm at your disposal."

He lifts you effortlessly, shifting you beneath him as he leans over, his body caging yours -without pressing down.

His antlers brush yours, the contact sending shivers through your whole body and it feels all tingly, and then his lips meet yours in a kiss that's surprisingly tender.

The moment he pushes into you, slow and careful, your breath catches. He stills, his forehead resting against yours.

A deep ache blooms where you've been craving him most. You can feel every ridge and every vein, the way his length stretches you, filling you completely. It's overwhelming in the best way.

"Are you alright?" he asks again, his voice barely audible.

"Yes" you breathe, wrapping your legs around his waist.

"Please, Al~"

"I had missed feeling you around me."

Neither of you expected this choice of words from him. If anything, it's what a couple...-

He doesn't wait for you to answer though.

Alastor begins to move, his pace measured, his hands cradling your hips as if you might break without the support. But there's an intensity in his gaze, a primal hunger that simmers just beneath the surface.

Missionary should never be underestimated. The eye contact, the emotional closeness, the way you can easily bring him down for a kiss, or run your fingers through his hair -that's starting to curl from all the sweat- make the experience so fulfilling to you frayed nerves.

Alastor keeps his body aligned with yours as he presses his forehead to your own. The heat radiating off his skin feels almost suffocating, but it also grounds you in the moment.

"Too much?" he whispers, his voice steady despite the faint tremor of his breath.

His antlers gently bump into yours once more and the sweet intimacy of the gesture makes your chest tighten.

"No" you manage, though the word is barely coherent. "It's perfect."

He groans softly at that, his hips shifting slightly so he can go even deeper.

"You're stunning" he murmurs mid thrust, his fingers tracing the contours of your face, before slipping lower, back on your hip. "Do you know that?"

You don't answer -can't answer. His thrusts are slow, the kind of pace that forces you to feel everything. It's maddening, the way he pulls out so slowly, only to push back in with measured precision, the friction setting your nerves alight.

Your body responds instinctively, your legs wrapping tighter around his waist, pulling him deeper. Each thrust sends a jolt of pleasure through you, the pressure building low in your belly.

"Alastor~"

"Y/n?"

His tone is still soft, but now edged with restraint, as though he's holding himself back.

"Faster" you plead, your nails digging into his shoulders. "Pretty please."

He hesitates, his crimson eyes searching yours, before his control slips. His hips snap forward -harder this time- and you cry out, your back arching off the mattress.

"That's it" he groans, his voice rougher now, the sharp tips of his antlers grazing yours with every thrust.

Your body trembles beneath him, more and more intensely, heat pooling tight in your core. The pleasure builds steadily, each thrust pushing you closer to the edge, until it becomes almost unbearable.

"Alastor, I-"

Your words falter, your breath hitching as the tension in your belly coils even tighter, ready to snap -for the second time tonight.

His hand slides down, his thumb finding your swollen clit. The touch is feather-light at first, but when you whimper and whine, he applies more pressure, circling it in time with his thrusts.

"Come for me" he coaxes.

"Let go. I've got you, love."

The combination of his touch, his voice and what he just called you, the steady rhythm of his hips... It's all too much.

The tension snaps and your orgasm hits you hard, body convulsing as pleasure crashes over you time and time again. Your legs spasm around his waist, your head falling back as a cry tears from your lips. The sensation is sharp and all-consuming, your vision turns white.

"So good" he marvels while his hands remain on your hips, grounding you as you ride out the last waves of your climax. "You're breathtaking."

The aftershocks start to ripple through you. Despite your body feeling boneless, your chest is still heaving quite a lot.

Alastor doesn't stop moving, but his pace slows, his touches gentle and reverent.

When your vision returns, you see his gaze on you, filled with something soft and unspoken.

"Are you alright?" he asks again, his voice low, a hint of uncertainty breaking through his usual confidence.

You nod, a shaky smile appearing on your flushed face.

"More than alright" you whisper, your hands coming up to cup his face.

He smiles back at you, leaning down to press a deep kiss to your lips.

"I'm glad, because I need just a little more to~ You know..."

How he can fuck you all the way up to Heaven, but shy away when it comes to voicing the simplest of things will always be beyond you. Still, you're too satisfied and sated to bring it up and tease him right now.

You're actually so sated you barely register his orgasm.

When Alastor finally slows, his movements become languid, savoring the last few moments of connection.

He presses a kiss against your temple as he pulls out, carefully.

A deep warmth lingers in your core, a mix of his seed and your own juices slipping out, leaving you feeling full and entirely undone.

"Sleepy?"

"You have no idea."

Your lover's gaze gets fixed on where you're leaking onto the bed sheets and he doesn't try to hide his possessive and proud expression.

You let out a little noise as the slickness spreads, shifting uncomfortably.

"Sticky" you mutter, your voice still weak from the intensity of your release.

He chuckles, going back to amused, before leaning down to press another kiss to your lips.

"I'll take care of it."

True to his word, he disappears briefly and returns with a warm, damp towel. He cleans you gently, murmuring soothing words each time you shiver from the sensation.

When he's finished, he wraps you in a soft blanket he finds on a nearby chair and gathers you into his arms -his antlers brushing yours in the tender gesture you both seem to love.

"You're safe" he whispers, cradling you close against his chest. "Alastor got you."

Your body melts into him and you let exhaustion overtake you, sighing contentedly.

"I hate you sometimes" you mumble sleepily, though the affection in your tone conveys the true meaning of your words.

He chuckles, his chest vibrating against you. "And yet, here you are, letting me hold you. How peculiar."

"Shut up" you grumble, burying your face in his chest.

The first thing you notice when you wake is the warmth.

Alastor is still wrapped around you, his long limbs tangled with yours, his breath heavy and steady against the crown of your head. The weight of his arm draped over your waist is comforting, his fingers twitching in utter relaxation.

But there's something else here -the ache, insistent, stirring as you shift against him and even more as you breathe in his natural scent. You bite your lip, trying to ignore it, but the moment you press your thighs together, a soft whimper escapes you.

Alastor stirs immediately, his crimson eyes fluttering open.

"Hmm? What's the matter, my dear?"

His voice is thick with sleep, but his focus sharpens as he takes in your flushed cheeks and the restless way you're shifting.

"Nothing" you reply dismissively, though the way your body arches slightly against his betrays you.

He raises an eyebrow, a small, knowing smile tugging at his lips.

"You're not very convincing" he coos, his hand sliding down to rest on your hip. "Do you need something?"

You squirm under his gaze, your face heating up in both embarrassment and arousal.

"I woke up like this, okay?" you say defensively, frustrated tears prickling at the corners of your eyes.

His teasing demeanor shifts instantly, replaced by a tenderness that makes your chest ache.

"Oh, my poor thing"

He brushes a stray tear from your cheek with his thumb.

Before you can protest, his hand slides lower, his fingers finding your bundle of nerves with practiced ease -that he gained from your times together.

He moves slowly, coaxing soft gasps and whimpers from you.

"You're such a sensitive thing when you're in heat" he murmurs, his voice laced with awe.

"So perfect."

His touch is gentle but insistent, building you up until you're trembling. When you finally climax, it's softer than the night before but no less intense, leaving you breathless and boneless in his arms.

Alastor holds you close as you recover, his lips pressing soft kisses along your forehead and temple.

"Better?" he asks, his voice earnest and soothing.

You nod, burying your face against his neck. "Much better."

He chuckles, running his fingers through your hair. "I'll have to be more mindful of how easily I can wear you out."

You smack his chest lightly, earning another laugh, before settling back into the comfortable silence. As the morning light filters through the room, you let yourself relax, feeling safe and cherished in his arms.

"Thank you" you whisper, your voice barely audible.

He tilts your chin up, his red eyes meeting yours.

"Always" he replies softly, his antlers brushing yours in that gesture, hour gesture, yours and his -and it makes your heart ache.

In this moment, you realize there is no going back.

This isn't just fleeting indulgence -it's the beginning of something far deeper, something that feels as primal and undeniable as the instincts that brought you together.

You're his and he's yours. Forever.

To be continued.

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my lovely tag list; @stygianoir @aperfectidiot @lady-valtieri @what-0-life @clowncollegealum @whatinthepluto @dragonqueenfk @ajajajabdjsjx @ellie-x0xo @1rxsemary1 @ermmmwhattheflipguys @kimkimmm2411 @sukaretto-n @crowleysthings @ratskinsuit @mariaclarade-la-cruz1 @ilikemyteawithmilk @dontevenknowwhyimhere @dennsfz @sirens-and-moonflowers @diffidentphantom @midorichoco @speedycoffeedelight @cinnamon-galaxies @kammsinn @chibistar45 @alastorthirsty @victias @mezzo-piano230 @shayshaymonyou @atlaloversblog @iheartalastor @mydickisjuicy @pinestwinssimp @littlebluefishtail @foggytimetravelqueen @fierydragonprincess @unadulteratedplant

[greenandsorrow]

THE NYMPH'S DAILY GIFTS.

(2024-2025) // ongoing for December and January ⁠｡☆ﾟ⁠.⁠*

🎁 This is a very busy schedule, especially in comparison to my usual uploadings of once a month (if you're lucky), but I want ALL fandoms to be treated. After that, I'll probably be gone for a month or so because of my uni exam period :')

🎁 Do interact with my fics, it makes everything so worth it! (The butterfly (🦋) stands for 'requested'.)

🎁 Once something gets uploaded, I'll add its link in my little holiday masterlist here, for easy navigation. If you're new, I hope I'll make you stay and if you're not, thanks for sticking around and consider this your gift!!!

🎁 My blog started when Barbie came out. Remember 'Boytoy' ? Oh Lord, I certainly do. After that, what really made my acc blow up was my rut smut with Alastor and most of you are probably here for my Hazbin stuff. I could have opened side blogs for all my fandoms, BUT, it makes me dizzy just thinking about it.

🎁 If you have any spare change, I'd appreciate a little Christmas tip on my PayPal more than you know... And I'm also happy to connect with you!! Don't be shy!

*⁠･⊰⁠⊹ฺ✧ﾟ⁠:⁠｡☆ﾟ⁠.⁠*⁠･⁠｡ﾟ

The heart of winter. It's cold and it gets dark super early. I'm your fairy godmother and I'll make sure to keep you warm inside. Stop carrying your burdens for a little while! Here...🫳 🧺 Put them in my magical basket for later. Maybe they won't be so heavy after you give in to some self indulgence, also known as fanfiction...

Innocence, interrupted. - Alastor x fem!bunny!reader/ sfw (🦋)

"Who hurt my Tony?" - Angel Dust x fem!bestie!reader/ fluff (🦋)

An obscene faith. - nun!Alastor x fem!reader/ smut (🦋)

my goosemas participation with the prompt 'miracle'⛄

"You should learn to knock first." - Colt Seavers x curvy!fem!reader/ smut

Alastor Christmas special ❄️🎄♥️

hazbin hotel surprise 👀

The price for misbehaving - rut!Alastor x gn!reader/ smutty, nsfw ->part iii + part iv (masterpost)

The fox - Alastor x fem!fox!reader/ platonic ->final part (masterpost)

game of thrones suprise 👀

Poison tree - Thorin Oakenshield x fem!faerie!reader/ (n)sfw, angst

The thunderstorm - Sierra Six x implied!fem!reader/ comfort, fluff

Heal - Sunny x fem!caretaker!reader/ platonic ->chapter 1 (masterpost)

the secret history surprise 👀

❄️ Flowers in December - Luke Danes x fem!reader ❄️

🎁 Another recent rant of mine

🎁 My masterlist

🎁 The dividers are by @saradika-graphics.

[greenandsorrow]

the price for misbehaving

~ masterpost ~

Your years long friend has to suffer for his sins by going through the rut once a year. You finally find out...

WARNINGS; friends to lovers, gn!reader with fem parts, deer/doe!demon!reader, curly-haired!Alastor, breeding kink, primal instincts, mentions of deer mating season, dry humping, premature ejaculation, masturbation, penetrative & oral sex, marking & biting, smut with emotion, possessiveness, finding your mate, actual connection underneath the horniness

Alastor in the rut

Post rut Alastor

You in heat

The hartfelts (SOON)

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Tag list; @stygianoir @aperfectidiot @lady-valtieri @what-0-life @clowncollegealum @whatinthepluto @dragonqueenfk @ajajajabdjsjx @ellie-x0xo @1rxsemary1 @ermmmwhattheflipguys @kimkimmm2411 @sukaretto-n @crowleysthings @ratskinsuit @mariaclarade-la-cruz1 @ilikemyteawithmilk @dontevenknowwhyimhere @dennsfz @sirens-and-moonflowers @diffidentphantom @midorichoco @speedycoffeedelight @cinnamon-galaxies @kammsinn @chibistar45 @alastorthirsty @victias @mezzo-piano230 @shayshaymonyou @atlaloversblog @iheartalastor @mydickisjuicy @pinestwinssimp @littlebluefishtail @foggytimetravelqueen @fierydragonprincess @unadulteratedplant

[greenandsorrow]

AFTER MANY MONTHS, IT'S HERE

the price for misbehaving (iii)

Alastor x gn!reader in heat

WARNINGS; explicit content, deer/doe!demon!reader with fem anatomy, needy!reader, soft-dom!Alastor, ovulation talk, horniness & hormones, breeding kink, primal instincts, mentions of deer mating season, cunningulus, penetrative sex, angst, comfort, fluff, wholesomeness, friends to lovers, smut with emotion, finding your forever mate, don't forget to use protection irl my loves

Dividers by; @saradika-graphics & @cafekitsune

Please do not repost or directly copy my work and don't use it on AI platforms either 🧡

Thank you so much for all the love and support!! And the relative patience. This is literally Part 1 but with the roles reversed. I hope you enjoy it and I promise that the finale won't take long!

For additional rut smut, check this out!

~masterpost~

After your first kiss, life went back to normal -well, for a month or so.

Friendly bickering, long conversations about everything and nothing, his unnerving yet strangely comforting presence always in reach...

Despite that normalcy, you realized Alastor's rut shook your quiet and uneventful life in an irreversible way. His musth has done more than leave you breathless... It has awakened something primal in you, too.

The fever hit you slowly. In the beginning, it was an ache in your limbs, a strange warmth in your chest, a restlessness in your thoughts. You blamed the sudden activeness of your sexual life during his rut.

But by the time your heat fully bloomed, there was no mistaking it.

The first wave came in the middle of an idle day, leaving you gripping the counter of the hotel's kitchen -a surge of warmth low in your belly and cramps in your bust.

A strangled laugh escaped you before you could stop it.

"Oh, this is just perfect~" you muttered, rubbing at the base of your antlers, trying to get rid of the sudden itch.

It was no use.

The itch persisted.

That smug bastard would love to know he had dragged you into this.

When Alastor arrived later, on that same evening, his tailored suit as sharp as ever and his grin sharper, you were already a bundle of nerves and hormones. His energy filled the room like crackling fire and the scent of him sent heat and moisture pooling between your thighs.

You crossed your arms, determined to ignore your physical reactions.

"You look flushed" Alastor commented, cocking his head inquisitively, crimson eyes glinting with slight amusement.

"Gee, I wonder why" you shot back, voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Maybe it's because someone's rut threw me into heat."

Alastor blinked, the teasing grin faltering just slightly. Then it returned, wider than before.

"Oh, my dear deer, I had no idea I had such an effect on you!"

"Don't flatter yourself~" you snapped, though your body betrayed you, leaning in.

He stepped closer, his long fingers brushing against your jawline.

"You're in heat..." he murmured, his voice low and deliberate. "...and you came to me?"

"I didn't just 'come to you'" you grumbled. "You're always here."

"Hmm" he mused, his gaze flicking to your slightly grown antlers. "It still is deer mating season, isn't it? Fascinating how instinct takes over."

You were at his radio tower, sitting on the little sofa he had fit in there. It was supposed to be a chill night, with you reading while he did his own thing. Despite the 'chill' part, as the night progressed, the tension between you became unbearable. Your mating instincts were undeniable -the flicks of your little tail, the darkened hue of your eyes, the way your antlers gleamed under the dim light.

"You're ovulating" Alastor said at some point, his tone both matter of factly and dangerously hungry.

"Don't say it like that..." you protested, face burning.

"But it's true" he retorted, leaning down, his sharp teeth grazing the shell of your ear. "And you smell divine."

Indeed.

Something had changed.

The silence that followed wasn't awkward. It was charged, humming with unspoken words. When he stood close to you again, you found yourself leaning into his space without even realizing it, drawn to the comforting, masculine warmth he offered.

And he let you.

Alastor Hartfelt -who once kept everyone at arm's length with his theatrical charm- has softened in ways you don't fully understand, nor anticipated. He lingers longer after your conversations and he smiles more -not the razor-sharp grin he uses for the world's eyes, but something more sincere, almost fond.

"Are you just going to stare, or are you planning on saying something?" you ask petulantly, trying to keep your voice light despite the strange heat creeping up your neck.

It's late in the afternoon.

"I find your company... pleasant" he simply answers, making your stomach flutter.

This is the closest thing to an admission you've ever gotten from him ...and it's enough, for now. See, you have been pestering him the whole day to tell Rosie about you and him, and when he stopped giving you attention, you had started crying in frustration.

It's true, your friendship has begun to shift into something more. It's not just the hormones that make you crave his touch... It's the way he treats you and it's also the way he makes you feel deep inside your condemned soul.

You remember the way he had looked at you during his rut -wildly, ravenously, yet with restraint, as if the mere idea of hurting you was repulsive to him. Even now, with your body betraying you, you know he'd never take more than you're willing to give.

The whole trust thing is what makes this so so maddening. It's intimate in ways neither of you is familiar with.

"Are you always this quiet during mating season?" he addresses you playfully, breaking the silence as you pace your small bedroom back and forth -trying to burn off the restless energy coursing through you.

"Only when someone else's rut has completely broken my biological clock" you shoot back, throwing him a glare over your shoulder.

His laugh is rich and warm, a sound that -to your dismay- sends shivers down your spine.

"You're welcome."

"Oh, you think you're so funny!" you exclaim, frustrated, but the corners of your lips betray you, twitching into a reluctant smile.

"Amusing enough to not kick me out, it seems."

This whole ordeal has to be one of the rare occasions where Alastor isn't trying to show off -when it comes to actions, because this man has an unstoppable flare when it comes to words.

And it starts out small, so small you almost don't notice it.

The radio demon isn't exactly a coddling or hovering guy, but after his rut, he begins stepping in. He pulls out your chair before you sit, hands you things before you can ask and walks you everywhere, even when you insist you don't need any company.

When your heat starts creeping in, it's not just his presence that comforts you -it is the way he seems to know, instinctively, what you need.

As the "heat wave" progresses, he becomes more and more protective -proactive as well.

Alastor is always watching, always listening. A step ahead of you at every turn. He hands you a glass of water before you realize how dry your throat is, pulls the curtains closed when the sunlight feels too harsh to your easily overstimulated system.

"Eat" he commands one evening, setting a plate in front of you without the usual fanfare.

His tone is brisk, but his eyes linger on yours, soft and unreadable.

"I'm not hungry" you whine softly, crossing your arms.

"You'll need your strength" he explains, unbothered by your defiance.

His insistence would've been annoying if it weren't so... sweet.

He doesn't push further, just stays nearby, humming an old tune as you reluctantly take a bite.

It only gets worse from here.

Every sound is amplified to the point of distraction and most smells make you dizzy and fussy.

Now, you are pacing around all the time.

Alastor stays silent during those restless times, watching you with a focus that would unnerve any other sinner. However, all it makes you feel is frustration.

"Stop staring! You're always doing that and I'm sick of it, Al!" you lash out, rubbing at your temples.

"You, stop fidgeting and moving" he retorts.

"Excuse me?! What- what do you want me to do? Sit still and burn alive?"

His grin softens, replaced by something calmer and more serious. "You're not alone in this."

The words shouldn't mean as much as they do, but they hit something deep in you. Alastor -your oldest friend- is here, grounding you when your own body betrays you.

"You don't owe me anything, if that's why you've stuck around after... you know what." you say, pacing the room for what must be the fifth time this evening.

When you stumble, knees buckling from the ache between your thighs, he catches you before you hit the floor. His hands are firm yet cautious, holding you like you might shatter.

"Careful" he says softly, his crimson eyes meeting yours. "I've got you."

His antlers brush against yours as he guides you to your single bed, the accidental contact sending a shiver down your spine. His scent fills your senses -practically intoxicating you- and you start rubbing against him, unconsciously.

"Alastor? ...why are you being so nice to me?" you mutter, your voice muffled against his shoulder.

"Because I care" he replies simply -and for once, there is no teasing in his voice.

"You're hovering a little too much these days" you grumble weakly.

He doesn't flinch. "I'm making myself useful."

His calmness infuriates you, mostly because he's right. Everything he does is perfectly timed, perfectly measured -and it leaves you feeling raw and exposed. It's like he can see every vulnerable part of you, laid bare without your permission.

You're being driven insane by the constant heat and ache, the gnawing need that you are aware you can't satisfy on your own.

And Alastor's constant presence doesn't help your raging progesterone. (I'm sorry)

"I don't like you treating me like I'm about to fall apart~"

He tilts his head, antlers catching the soft light as he studies your frame in his arms. "You're not yourself right now. Someone has to keep an eye on you."

You huff, face hot, hands curling into fists. "I'm fine, Alastor. I'm not some delicate flower that needs-"

"You almost fell. Clearly, you're perfectly fine..." he says, his tone laced with dry amusement.

You huff at that.

You want to snap at him again, to push him away, to hit him even, but his scent is everywhere -woody and sweet, warm and grounding. It clouds your mind, the primal part of you drawn to him despite your pride.

"Let go" you say under your breath, the words lacking conviction.

"I don't think I will."

Alastor's grip is strong, but not uncomfortable, his thumbs brushing over your arms in a way that makes your breath hitch.

"Not when you're like this."

You swallow hard, caught between the familiar frustration and the embarrassing comfort his touch brings. The heat pooling low in your belly grows with every brush of his fingers and you hate how you want more.

"Like what?!" you eventually snap again, though your voice wavers.

"Overheating? Aching? On the verge of snapping at me for simply breathing in your direction?"

His tone is light and teasing, but there's an edge of knowing behind it and it makes you freeze. Makes you remember the state he was in only a few weeks ago.

Your silence betrays you and his grin widens, smug and victorious.

"That's what I thought."

You glare at him, still resisting his soothing touches. "I'm not some helpless little fawn, Alastor."

"No, you're not" he agrees, eyes gleaming.

"You're stubborn, snippy, and-" his gaze drifts over you and his voice drops. "...painfully uncomfortable."

The honesty in his tone catches you off guard and before you can argue AGAIN, he presses a steady hand on your shoulder, guiding you to lay down.

"Humor me. Just this once, y/n."

Reluctantly, you comply, but not without crossing your arms over your chest.

"Fine. But this doesn't mean I need you."

"Of course not" he says with a smile that borders on condescending.

You open your mouth to retort once more, but the words die in your throat when Alastor's palms land on your shoulders.

His warmth seeps through your shirt and when he starts to knead the tension there, a low moan escapes from you.

"Goodness" he teases, his thumbs working into a particularly tight knot. "Is this where all your attitude is hiding?"

"Shut up" you mutter, while unabashedly rolling so you're laying on your stomach, giving him better access.

His touch is phenomenal, long fingers tracing over the muscles of your neck and shoulders with a precision that makes you shiver all over.

It feels too good -too intimate- but you can't bring yourself to pull away.

"Your antlers must be killing you" he observes after a long moment of silence, his hands drifting up to brush the base of them.

The sensation sends a spark between your thighs and you have to swallow a grunt to appear composed.

"They're doing fine" you lie, but the way you perk your head up and toward his touch betrays you.

"Mantè" he murmurs, his voice low and amused.

"I'm not lying!" you whine and he shushes you with a cheeky look.

You sit up a little, petulantly.

When his touch moves to the space between your antlers, you let out a soft, involuntary gasp.

He stills, his sharp grin fading as his eyes meet yours.

"Ah" he says softly, his tone more curious than mocking. "Sensitive, aren't we?"

"Don't~" you warn, but it comes out weak and breathless.

"Don't what?"

His fingers start to move again -slowly and deliberately- and your body betrays you completely. A whimper escapes your lips this time and his smile turns wicked.

"Don't do this?"

You don't answer, biting your lip to stifle another sound, but he hears it anyway.

"You're tense everywhere" he taunts, his hands sliding down to your shoulders again. "Let me help."

Your heart pounds in your chest as his hands drift lower, skimming your sides, his touch intent but not quite crossing any lines. Yet.

"Alastor" you breathe, his name slipping past your lips without thinking.

"Yes, my dear?" he replies in a velvet-smooth voice, but there's a flicker of something darker in his gaze now. Something primal.

"Is this-"

You pause, swallowing hard.

"Is this a bad idea?"

His grin softens and now there's no teasing in his voice. "Not if you want it."

"Just- just rub my back a little more."

"As you wish, my dear~"

Soon, the tension reaches a breaking point.

You pull away from his hands abruptly.

Your antlers scrape the bed's headboard, a dull throb blooming at their base -and it's the last straw.

"Enough!" you half-shout and half-whine, voice cracking in despair. "I can't- I can't take this anymore!"

Alastor's eyes widen as he watches you start pacing around once more, but this time with your hands tagging at your hair.

"It's too much!" you continue, your voice rising with every word. "Everything hurts, everything burns! And I feel like I'm crawling out of my own skin! And you-"

You whirl to face him, your vision blurring at the edges. "You're not helping me at all! You're just- just there! Smiling and being smug and-"

Your words break off into a choked sob and before you can stop yourself, the tears come. You press your palms to your face, trying to stifle the sounds, but it's impossible.

The silence stretches, heavy.

Then, there's movement -soft and careful. Alastor approaches slowly, his usual energy toned down.

"Darling…" he speaks softly, his voice stripped of its previous amusement.

"Don't- Not again~" you start as well, your words muffled behind your trembling hands.

But when his arms come around you, warm and steady and so secure, you don't push him away.

He holds you without a word, his chin resting on your shoulder as you shake against him.

"I didn't realize" he explains, regretful. "I thought teasing would help distract you, not… make you cry."

You shake your head, your tears soaking into his shirt.

"It's not your fault" you manage, though the words feel hollow.

He pulls back just enough to meet your watery eyes, his hands cupping your face with surprising gentleness.

"Let's do it right, hm? No games. No teasing. Just… let me take care of you, just like you took care of me when I needed you most. How does that sound to my dearest deer?"

Something in his tone breaks through the overwhelming haze of lust you're currently experiencing.

You nod -a small, shaky movement.

"Good."

He guides you back onto the bed, his movements unhurried this time. As your back meets the mattress, he slips his arms under your knees, his long fingers trailing up your oversensitive thighs, making your breath hitch.

"Relax" he says, his voice soothing. "I only want to help."

You nod again, your body trembling as his hands slip beneath the waistband of your PJ shorts, pulling them down with care.

His crimson gaze flicks up to meet yours -checking- and when you don't stop him, he leans in.

The first touch of his tongue is toe curling -to say the least- and you gasp loudly, your hands fisting the fabric of his shirt. He hums against you, the sound vibrating through your core... and you can't help the whimper that escapes your lips.

"Just like that" he praises, his voice muffled against your wetness, and he gets to work -tongue moving in slow, measured strokes.

Your head falls back against one pillow, your breathing ragged as the tension in your body finally starts to unravel. Alastor's hands grip your thighs, holding you steady and open for him.

When you glance down, the sight of him -his sharp antlers gently scratching your abdomen and thighs, his bright eyes half-lidded and focused on your sex- sends a fresh wave of heat through you.

"Alastor" you moan, your voice trembling uncontrollably.

He pulls back just enough to smirk up at you, though it's softer than before. "Yes, my dear?"

"Don't you dare stop" you whisper and his smile fades into something more tender and loving.

"Never" he promises, diving back in.

When you finally fall apart, your body shaking with the force of it, he doesn't move away an inch. He stays with you, his touch grounding, his lips pressing soft kisses on the sensitive skin of your thighs and belly.

When you come down and while your body is still writhing, he rises, his hands now sliding under your arms to pull you up gently. He sits back, guiding you to straddle his lap.

"Are you alright?" he asks, his voice soft, his eyes searching yours.

You nod, your hands resting on his chest. "I… I need more" you admit, your voice barely above a whisper.

Something flickers in his gaze -desire, longing, maybe even excitement.

"I'm at your disposal."

He lifts you effortlessly, shifting you beneath him as he leans over, his body caging yours -without pressing down.

His antlers brush yours, the contact sending shivers through your whole body and it feels all tingly, and then his lips meet yours in a kiss that's surprisingly tender.

The moment he pushes into you, slow and careful, your breath catches. He stills, his forehead resting against yours.

A deep ache blooms where you've been craving him most. You can feel every ridge and every vein, the way his length stretches you, filling you completely. It's overwhelming in the best way.

"Are you alright?" he asks again, his voice barely audible.

"Yes" you breathe, wrapping your legs around his waist.

"Please, Al~"

"I had missed feeling you around me."

Neither of you expected this choice of words from him. If anything, it's what a couple...-

He doesn't wait for you to answer though.

Alastor begins to move, his pace measured, his hands cradling your hips as if you might break without the support. But there's an intensity in his gaze, a primal hunger that simmers just beneath the surface.

Missionary should never be underestimated. The eye contact, the emotional closeness, the way you can easily bring him down for a kiss, or run your fingers through his hair -that's starting to curl from all the sweat- make the experience so fulfilling to you frayed nerves.

Alastor keeps his body aligned with yours as he presses his forehead to your own. The heat radiating off his skin feels almost suffocating, but it also grounds you in the moment.

"Too much?" he whispers, his voice steady despite the faint tremor of his breath.

His antlers gently bump into yours once more and the sweet intimacy of the gesture makes your chest tighten.

"No" you manage, though the word is barely coherent. "It's perfect."

He groans softly at that, his hips shifting slightly so he can go even deeper.

"You're stunning" he murmurs mid thrust, his fingers tracing the contours of your face, before slipping lower, back on your hip. "Do you know that?"

You don't answer -can't answer. His thrusts are slow, the kind of pace that forces you to feel everything. It's maddening, the way he pulls out so slowly, only to push back in with measured precision, the friction setting your nerves alight.

Your body responds instinctively, your legs wrapping tighter around his waist, pulling him deeper. Each thrust sends a jolt of pleasure through you, the pressure building low in your belly.

"Alastor~"

"Y/n?"

His tone is still soft, but now edged with restraint, as though he's holding himself back.

"Faster" you plead, your nails digging into his shoulders. "Pretty please."

He hesitates, his crimson eyes searching yours, before his control slips. His hips snap forward -harder this time- and you cry out, your back arching off the mattress.

"That's it" he groans, his voice rougher now, the sharp tips of his antlers grazing yours with every thrust.

Your body trembles beneath him, more and more intensely, heat pooling tight in your core. The pleasure builds steadily, each thrust pushing you closer to the edge, until it becomes almost unbearable.

"Alastor, I-"

Your words falter, your breath hitching as the tension in your belly coils even tighter, ready to snap -for the second time tonight.

His hand slides down, his thumb finding your swollen clit. The touch is feather-light at first, but when you whimper and whine, he applies more pressure, circling it in time with his thrusts.

"Come for me" he coaxes.

"Let go. I've got you, love."

The combination of his touch, his voice and what he just called you, the steady rhythm of his hips... It's all too much.

The tension snaps and your orgasm hits you hard, body convulsing as pleasure crashes over you time and time again. Your legs spasm around his waist, your head falling back as a cry tears from your lips. The sensation is sharp and all-consuming, your vision turns white.

"So good" he marvels while his hands remain on your hips, grounding you as you ride out the last waves of your climax. "You're breathtaking."

The aftershocks start to ripple through you. Despite your body feeling boneless, your chest is still heaving quite a lot.

Alastor doesn't stop moving, but his pace slows, his touches gentle and reverent.

When your vision returns, you see his gaze on you, filled with something soft and unspoken.

"Are you alright?" he asks again, his voice low, a hint of uncertainty breaking through his usual confidence.

You nod, a shaky smile appearing on your flushed face.

"More than alright" you whisper, your hands coming up to cup his face.

He smiles back at you, leaning down to press a deep kiss to your lips.

"I'm glad, because I need just a little more to~ You know..."

How he can fuck you all the way up to Heaven, but shy away when it comes to voicing the simplest of things will always be beyond you. Still, you're too satisfied and sated to bring it up and tease him right now.

You're actually so sated you barely register his orgasm.

When Alastor finally slows, his movements become languid, savoring the last few moments of connection.

He presses a kiss against your temple as he pulls out, carefully.

A deep warmth lingers in your core, a mix of his seed and your own juices slipping out, leaving you feeling full and entirely undone.

"Sleepy?"

"You have no idea."

Your lover's gaze gets fixed on where you're leaking onto the bed sheets and he doesn't try to hide his possessive and proud expression.

You let out a little noise as the slickness spreads, shifting uncomfortably.

"Sticky" you mutter, your voice still weak from the intensity of your release.

He chuckles, going back to amused, before leaning down to press another kiss to your lips.

"I'll take care of it."

True to his word, he disappears briefly and returns with a warm, damp towel. He cleans you gently, murmuring soothing words each time you shiver from the sensation.

When he's finished, he wraps you in a soft blanket he finds on a nearby chair and gathers you into his arms -his antlers brushing yours in the tender gesture you both seem to love.

"You're safe" he whispers, cradling you close against his chest. "Alastor got you."

Your body melts into him and you let exhaustion overtake you, sighing contentedly.

"I hate you sometimes" you mumble sleepily, though the affection in your tone conveys the true meaning of your words.

He chuckles, his chest vibrating against you. "And yet, here you are, letting me hold you. How peculiar."

"Shut up" you grumble, burying your face in his chest.

The first thing you notice when you wake is the warmth.

Alastor is still wrapped around you, his long limbs tangled with yours, his breath heavy and steady against the crown of your head. The weight of his arm draped over your waist is comforting, his fingers twitching in utter relaxation.

But there's something else here -the ache, insistent, stirring as you shift against him and even more as you breathe in his natural scent. You bite your lip, trying to ignore it, but the moment you press your thighs together, a soft whimper escapes you.

Alastor stirs immediately, his crimson eyes fluttering open.

"Hmm? What's the matter, my dear?"

His voice is thick with sleep, but his focus sharpens as he takes in your flushed cheeks and the restless way you're shifting.

"Nothing" you reply dismissively, though the way your body arches slightly against his betrays you.

He raises an eyebrow, a small, knowing smile tugging at his lips.

"You're not very convincing" he coos, his hand sliding down to rest on your hip. "Do you need something?"

You squirm under his gaze, your face heating up in both embarrassment and arousal.

"I woke up like this, okay?" you say defensively, frustrated tears prickling at the corners of your eyes.

His teasing demeanor shifts instantly, replaced by a tenderness that makes your chest ache.

"Oh, my poor thing"

He brushes a stray tear from your cheek with his thumb.

Before you can protest, his hand slides lower, his fingers finding your bundle of nerves with practiced ease -that he gained from your times together.

He moves slowly, coaxing soft gasps and whimpers from you.

"You're such a sensitive thing when you're in heat" he murmurs, his voice laced with awe.

"So perfect."

His touch is gentle but insistent, building you up until you're trembling. When you finally climax, it's softer than the night before but no less intense, leaving you breathless and boneless in his arms.

Alastor holds you close as you recover, his lips pressing soft kisses along your forehead and temple.

"Better?" he asks, his voice earnest and soothing.

You nod, burying your face against his neck. "Much better."

He chuckles, running his fingers through your hair. "I'll have to be more mindful of how easily I can wear you out."

You smack his chest lightly, earning another laugh, before settling back into the comfortable silence. As the morning light filters through the room, you let yourself relax, feeling safe and cherished in his arms.

"Thank you" you whisper, your voice barely audible.

He tilts your chin up, his red eyes meeting yours.

"Always" he replies softly, his antlers brushing yours in that gesture, hour gesture, yours and his -and it makes your heart ache.

In this moment, you realize there is no going back.

This isn't just fleeting indulgence -it's the beginning of something far deeper, something that feels as primal and undeniable as the instincts that brought you together.

You're his and he's yours. Forever.

To be continued.

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[greenandsorrow]

the price for misbehaving (iii)

Alastor x gn!reader in heat

WARNINGS; explicit content, deer/doe!demon!reader with fem anatomy, needy!reader, soft-dom!Alastor, ovulation talk, horniness & hormones, breeding kink, primal instincts, mentions of deer mating season, cunningulus, penetrative sex, angst, comfort, fluff, wholesomeness, friends to lovers, smut with emotion, finding your forever mate, don't forget to use protection irl my loves

Dividers by; @saradika-graphics & @cafekitsune

Please do not repost or directly copy my work and don't use it on AI platforms either 🧡

Thank you so much for all the love and support!! And the relative patience. This is literally Part 1 but with the roles reversed. I hope you enjoy it and I promise that the finale won't take long!

For additional rut smut, check this out!

~masterpost~

After your first kiss, life went back to normal -well, for a month or so.

Friendly bickering, long conversations about everything and nothing, his unnerving yet strangely comforting presence always in reach...

Despite that normalcy, you realized Alastor's rut shook your quiet and uneventful life in an irreversible way. His musth has done more than leave you breathless... It has awakened something primal in you, too.

The fever hit you slowly. In the beginning, it was an ache in your limbs, a strange warmth in your chest, a restlessness in your thoughts. You blamed the sudden activeness of your sexual life during his rut.

But by the time your heat fully bloomed, there was no mistaking it.

The first wave came in the middle of an idle day, leaving you gripping the counter of the hotel's kitchen -a surge of warmth low in your belly and cramps in your bust.

A strangled laugh escaped you before you could stop it.

"Oh, this is just perfect~" you muttered, rubbing at the base of your antlers, trying to get rid of the sudden itch.

It was no use.

The itch persisted.

That smug bastard would love to know he had dragged you into this.

When Alastor arrived later, on that same evening, his tailored suit as sharp as ever and his grin sharper, you were already a bundle of nerves and hormones. His energy filled the room like crackling fire and the scent of him sent heat and moisture pooling between your thighs.

You crossed your arms, determined to ignore your physical reactions.

"You look flushed" Alastor commented, cocking his head inquisitively, crimson eyes glinting with slight amusement.

"Gee, I wonder why" you shot back, voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Maybe it's because someone's rut threw me into heat."

Alastor blinked, the teasing grin faltering just slightly. Then it returned, wider than before.

"Oh, my dear deer, I had no idea I had such an effect on you!"

"Don't flatter yourself~" you snapped, though your body betrayed you, leaning in.

He stepped closer, his long fingers brushing against your jawline.

"You're in heat..." he murmured, his voice low and deliberate. "...and you came to me?"

"I didn't just 'come to you'" you grumbled. "You're always here."

"Hmm" he mused, his gaze flicking to your slightly grown antlers. "It still is deer mating season, isn't it? Fascinating how instinct takes over."

You were at his radio tower, sitting on the little sofa he had fit in there. It was supposed to be a chill night, with you reading while he did his own thing. Despite the 'chill' part, as the night progressed, the tension between you became unbearable. Your mating instincts were undeniable -the flicks of your little tail, the darkened hue of your eyes, the way your antlers gleamed under the dim light.

"You're ovulating" Alastor said at some point, his tone both matter of factly and dangerously hungry.

"Don't say it like that..." you protested, face burning.

"But it's true" he retorted, leaning down, his sharp teeth grazing the shell of your ear. "And you smell divine."

Indeed.

Something had changed.

The silence that followed wasn't awkward. It was charged, humming with unspoken words. When he stood close to you again, you found yourself leaning into his space without even realizing it, drawn to the comforting, masculine warmth he offered.

And he let you.

Alastor Hartfelt -who once kept everyone at arm's length with his theatrical charm- has softened in ways you don't fully understand, nor anticipated. He lingers longer after your conversations and he smiles more -not the razor-sharp grin he uses for the world's eyes, but something more sincere, almost fond.

"Are you just going to stare, or are you planning on saying something?" you ask petulantly, trying to keep your voice light despite the strange heat creeping up your neck.

It's late in the afternoon.

"I find your company... pleasant" he simply answers, making your stomach flutter.

This is the closest thing to an admission you've ever gotten from him ...and it's enough, for now. See, you have been pestering him the whole day to tell Rosie about you and him, and when he stopped giving you attention, you had started crying in frustration.

It's true, your friendship has begun to shift into something more. It's not just the hormones that make you crave his touch... It's the way he treats you and it's also the way he makes you feel deep inside your condemned soul.

You remember the way he had looked at you during his rut -wildly, ravenously, yet with restraint, as if the mere idea of hurting you was repulsive to him. Even now, with your body betraying you, you know he'd never take more than you're willing to give.

The whole trust thing is what makes this so so maddening. It's intimate in ways neither of you is familiar with.

"Are you always this quiet during mating season?" he addresses you playfully, breaking the silence as you pace your small bedroom back and forth -trying to burn off the restless energy coursing through you.

"Only when someone else's rut has completely broken my biological clock" you shoot back, throwing him a glare over your shoulder.

His laugh is rich and warm, a sound that -to your dismay- sends shivers down your spine.

"You're welcome."

"Oh, you think you're so funny!" you exclaim, frustrated, but the corners of your lips betray you, twitching into a reluctant smile.

"Amusing enough to not kick me out, it seems."

This whole ordeal has to be one of the rare occasions where Alastor isn't trying to show off -when it comes to actions, because this man has an unstoppable flare when it comes to words.

And it starts out small, so small you almost don't notice it.

The radio demon isn't exactly a coddling or hovering guy, but after his rut, he begins stepping in. He pulls out your chair before you sit, hands you things before you can ask and walks you everywhere, even when you insist you don't need any company.

When your heat starts creeping in, it's not just his presence that comforts you -it is the way he seems to know, instinctively, what you need.

As the "heat wave" progresses, he becomes more and more protective -proactive as well.

Alastor is always watching, always listening. A step ahead of you at every turn. He hands you a glass of water before you realize how dry your throat is, pulls the curtains closed when the sunlight feels too harsh to your easily overstimulated system.

"Eat" he commands one evening, setting a plate in front of you without the usual fanfare.

His tone is brisk, but his eyes linger on yours, soft and unreadable.

"I'm not hungry" you whine softly, crossing your arms.

"You'll need your strength" he explains, unbothered by your defiance.

His insistence would've been annoying if it weren't so... sweet.

He doesn't push further, just stays nearby, humming an old tune as you reluctantly take a bite.

It only gets worse from here.

Every sound is amplified to the point of distraction and most smells make you dizzy and fussy.

Now, you are pacing around all the time.

Alastor stays silent during those restless times, watching you with a focus that would unnerve any other sinner. However, all it makes you feel is frustration.

"Stop staring! You're always doing that and I'm sick of it, Al!" you lash out, rubbing at your temples.

"You, stop fidgeting and moving" he retorts.

"Excuse me?! What- what do you want me to do? Sit still and burn alive?"

His grin softens, replaced by something calmer and more serious.

"You're not alone in this."

The words shouldn't mean as much as they do, but they hit something deep in you. Alastor -your oldest friend- is here, grounding you when your own body betrays you.

"You don't owe me anything, if that's why you've stuck around after... you know what." you say, pacing the room for what must be the fifth time this evening.

When you stumble, knees buckling from the ache between your thighs, he catches you before you hit the floor. His hands are firm yet cautious, holding you like you might shatter.

"Careful" he says softly, his crimson eyes meeting yours. "I've got you."

His antlers brush against yours as he guides you to your single bed, the accidental contact sending a shiver down your spine. His scent fills your senses -practically intoxicating you- and you start rubbing against him, unconsciously.

"Alastor? ...why are you being so nice to me?" you mutter, your voice muffled against his shoulder.

"Because I care" he replies simply -and for once, there is no teasing in his voice.

"You're hovering a little too much these days" you grumble weakly.

He doesn't flinch. "I'm making myself useful."

His calmness infuriates you, mostly because he's right. Everything he does is perfectly timed, perfectly measured -and it leaves you feeling raw and exposed. It's like he can see every vulnerable part of you, laid bare without your permission.

You're being driven insane by the constant heat and ache, the gnawing need that you are aware you can't satisfy on your own.

And Alastor's constant presence doesn't help your raging progesterone. (I'm sorry)

"I don't like you treating me like I'm about to fall apart~"

He tilts his head, antlers catching the soft light as he studies your frame in his arms. "You're not yourself right now. Someone has to keep an eye on you."

You huff, face hot, hands curling into fists. "I'm fine, Alastor. I'm not some delicate flower that needs-"

"You almost fell. Clearly, you're perfectly fine..." he says, his tone laced with dry amusement.

You huff at that.

You want to snap at him again, to push him away, to hit him even, but his scent is everywhere -woody and sweet, warm and grounding. It clouds your mind, the primal part of you drawn to him despite your pride.

"Let go" you say under your breath, the words lacking conviction.

"I don't think I will."

Alastor's grip is strong, but not uncomfortable, his thumbs brushing over your arms in a way that makes your breath hitch.

"Not when you're like this."

You swallow hard, caught between the familiar frustration and the embarrassing comfort his touch brings. The heat pooling low in your belly grows with every brush of his fingers and you hate how you want more.

"Like what?!" you eventually snap again, though your voice wavers.

"Overheating? Aching? On the verge of snapping at me for simply breathing in your direction?"

His tone is light and teasing, but there's an edge of knowing behind it and it makes you freeze. Makes you remember the state he was in only a few weeks ago.

Your silence betrays you and his grin widens, smug and victorious.

"That's what I thought."

You glare at him, still resisting his soothing touches. "I'm not some helpless little fawn, Alastor."

"No, you're not" he agrees, eyes gleaming.

"You're stubborn, snippy, and-" his gaze drifts over you and his voice drops. "...painfully uncomfortable."

The honesty in his tone catches you off guard and before you can argue AGAIN, he presses a steady hand on your shoulder, guiding you to lay down.

"Humor me. Just this once, y/n."

Reluctantly, you comply, but not without crossing your arms over your chest.

"Fine. But this doesn't mean I need you."

"Of course not" he says with a smile that borders on condescending.

You open your mouth to retort once more, but the words die in your throat when Alastor's palms land on your shoulders.

His warmth seeps through your shirt and when he starts to knead the tension there, a low moan escapes from you.

"Goodness" he teases, his thumbs working into a particularly tight knot. "Is this where all your attitude is hiding?"

"Shut up" you mutter, while unabashedly rolling so you're laying on your stomach, giving him better access.

His touch is phenomenal, long fingers tracing over the muscles of your neck and shoulders with a precision that makes you shiver all over.

It feels too good -too intimate- but you can't bring yourself to pull away.

"Your antlers must be killing you" he observes after a long moment of silence, his hands drifting up to brush the base of them.

The sensation sends a spark between your thighs and you have to swallow a grunt to appear composed.

"They're doing fine" you lie, but the way you perk your head up and toward his touch betrays you.

"Mantè" he murmurs, his voice low and amused.

"I'm not lying!" you whine and he shushes you with a cheeky look.

You sit up a little, petulantly.

When his touch moves to the space between your antlers, you let out a soft, involuntary gasp.

He stills, his sharp grin fading as his eyes meet yours.

"Ah" he says softly, his tone more curious than mocking. "Sensitive, aren't we?"

"Don't~" you warn, but it comes out weak and breathless.

"Don't what?"

His fingers start to move again -slowly and deliberately- and your body betrays you completely. A whimper escapes your lips this time and his smile turns wicked.

"Don't do this?"

You don't answer, biting your lip to stifle another sound, but he hears it anyway.

"You're tense everywhere" he taunts, his hands sliding down to your shoulders again. "Let me help."

Your heart pounds in your chest as his hands drift lower, skimming your sides, his touch intent but not quite crossing any lines. Yet.

"Alastor" you breathe, his name slipping past your lips without thinking.

"Yes, my dear?" he replies in a velvet-smooth voice, but there's a flicker of something darker in his gaze now. Something primal.

"Is this-"

You pause, swallowing hard.

"Is this a bad idea?"

His grin softens and now there's no teasing in his voice. "Not if you want it."

"Just- just rub my back a little more."

"As you wish, my dear~"

Soon, the tension reaches a breaking point.

You pull away from his hands abruptly.

Your antlers scrape the bed's headboard, a dull throb blooming at their base -and it's the last straw.

"Enough!" you half-shout and half-whine, voice cracking in despair. "I can't- I can't take this anymore!"

Alastor's eyes widen as he watches you start pacing around once more, but this time with your hands tagging at your hair.

"It's too much!" you continue, your voice rising with every word. "Everything hurts, everything burns! And I feel like I'm crawling out of my own skin! And you-"

You whirl to face him, your vision blurring at the edges. "You're not helping me at all! You're just- just there! Smiling and being smug and-"

Your words break off into a choked sob and before you can stop yourself, the tears come. You press your palms to your face, trying to stifle the sounds, but it's impossible.

The silence stretches, heavy.

Then, there's movement -soft and careful. Alastor approaches slowly, his usual energy toned down.

"Darling…" he speaks softly, his voice stripped of its previous amusement.

"Don't- Not again~" you start as well, your words muffled behind your trembling hands.

But when his arms come around you, warm and steady and so secure, you don't push him away.

He holds you without a word, his chin resting on your shoulder as you shake against him.

"I didn't realize" he explains, regretful. "I thought teasing would help distract you, not… make you cry."

You shake your head, your tears soaking into his shirt.

"It's not your fault" you manage, though the words feel hollow.

He pulls back just enough to meet your watery eyes, his hands cupping your face with surprising gentleness.

"Let's do it right, hm? No games. No teasing. Just… let me take care of you, just like you took care of me when I needed you most. How does that sound to my dearest deer?"

Something in his tone breaks through the overwhelming haze of lust you're currently experiencing.

You nod -a small, shaky movement.

"Good."

He guides you back onto the bed, his movements unhurried this time. As your back meets the mattress, he slips his arms under your knees, his long fingers trailing up your oversensitive thighs, making your breath hitch.

"Relax" he says, his voice soothing. "I only want to help."

You nod again, your body trembling as his hands slip beneath the waistband of your PJ shorts, pulling them down with care.

His crimson gaze flicks up to meet yours -checking- and when you don't stop him, he leans in.

The first touch of his tongue is toe curling -to say the least- and you gasp loudly, your hands fisting the fabric of his shirt. He hums against you, the sound vibrating through your core... and you can't help the whimper that escapes your lips.

"Just like that" he praises, his voice muffled against your wetness, and he gets to work -tongue moving in slow, measured strokes.

Your head falls back against one pillow, your breathing ragged as the tension in your body finally starts to unravel. Alastor's hands grip your thighs, holding you steady and open for him.

When you glance down, the sight of him -his sharp antlers gently scratching your abdomen and thighs, his bright eyes half-lidded and focused on your sex- sends a fresh wave of heat through you.

"Alastor" you moan, your voice trembling uncontrollably.

He pulls back just enough to smirk up at you, though it's softer than before. "Yes, my dear?"

"Don't you dare stop" you whisper and his smile fades into something more tender and loving.

"Never" he promises, diving back in.

When you finally fall apart, your body shaking with the force of it, he doesn't move away an inch. He stays with you, his touch grounding, his lips pressing soft kisses on the sensitive skin of your thighs and belly.

When you come down and while your body is still writhing, he rises, his hands now sliding under your arms to pull you up gently. He sits back, guiding you to straddle his lap.

"Are you alright?" he asks, his voice soft, his eyes searching yours.

You nod, your hands resting on his chest. "I… I need more" you admit, your voice barely above a whisper.

Something flickers in his gaze -desire, longing, maybe even excitement.

"I'm at your disposal."

He lifts you effortlessly, shifting you beneath him as he leans over, his body caging yours -without pressing down.

His antlers brush yours, the contact sending shivers through your whole body and it feels all tingly, and then his lips meet yours in a kiss that's surprisingly tender.

The moment he pushes into you, slow and careful, your breath catches. He stills, his forehead resting against yours.

A deep ache blooms where you've been craving him most. You can feel every ridge and every vein, the way his length stretches you, filling you completely. It's overwhelming in the best way.

"Are you alright?" he asks again, his voice barely audible.

"Yes" you breathe, wrapping your legs around his waist.

"Please, Al~"

"I had missed feeling you around me."

Neither of you expected this choice of words from him. If anything, it's what a couple...-

He doesn't wait for you to answer though.

Alastor begins to move, his pace measured, his hands cradling your hips as if you might break without the support. But there's an intensity in his gaze, a primal hunger that simmers just beneath the surface.

Missionary should never be underestimated. The eye contact, the emotional closeness, the way you can easily bring him down for a kiss, or run your fingers through his hair -that's starting to curl from all the sweat- make the experience so fulfilling to you frayed nerves.

Alastor keeps his body aligned with yours as he presses his forehead to your own. The heat radiating off his skin feels almost suffocating, but it also grounds you in the moment.

"Too much?" he whispers, his voice steady despite the faint tremor of his breath.

His antlers gently bump into yours once more and the sweet intimacy of the gesture makes your chest tighten.

"No" you manage, though the word is barely coherent. "It's perfect."

He groans softly at that, his hips shifting slightly so he can go even deeper.

"You're stunning" he murmurs mid thrust, his fingers tracing the contours of your face, before slipping lower, back on your hip. "Do you know that?"

You don't answer -can't answer. His thrusts are slow, the kind of pace that forces you to feel everything. It's maddening, the way he pulls out so slowly, only to push back in with measured precision, the friction setting your nerves alight.

Your body responds instinctively, your legs wrapping tighter around his waist, pulling him deeper. Each thrust sends a jolt of pleasure through you, the pressure building low in your belly.

"Alastor~"

"Y/n?"

His tone is still soft, but now edged with restraint, as though he's holding himself back.

"Faster" you plead, your nails digging into his shoulders. "Pretty please."

He hesitates, his crimson eyes searching yours, before his control slips. His hips snap forward -harder this time- and you cry out, your back arching off the mattress.

"That's it" he groans, his voice rougher now, the sharp tips of his antlers grazing yours with every thrust.

Your body trembles beneath him, more and more intensely, heat pooling tight in your core. The pleasure builds steadily, each thrust pushing you closer to the edge, until it becomes almost unbearable.

"Alastor, I-"

Your words falter, your breath hitching as the tension in your belly coils even tighter, ready to snap -for the second time tonight.

His hand slides down, his thumb finding your swollen clit. The touch is feather-light at first, but when you whimper and whine, he applies more pressure, circling it in time with his thrusts.

"Come for me" he coaxes.

"Let go. I've got you, love."

The combination of his touch, his voice and what he just called you, the steady rhythm of his hips... It's all too much.

The tension snaps and your orgasm hits you hard, body convulsing as pleasure crashes over you time and time again. Your legs spasm around his waist, your head falling back as a cry tears from your lips. The sensation is sharp and all-consuming, your vision turns white.

"So good" he marvels while his hands remain on your hips, grounding you as you ride out the last waves of your climax. "You're breathtaking."

The aftershocks start to ripple through you. Despite your body feeling boneless, your chest is still heaving quite a lot.

Alastor doesn't stop moving, but his pace slows, his touches gentle and reverent.

When your vision returns, you see his gaze on you, filled with something soft and unspoken.

"Are you alright?" he asks again, his voice low, a hint of uncertainty breaking through his usual confidence.

You nod, a shaky smile appearing on your flushed face.

"More than alright" you whisper, your hands coming up to cup his face.

He smiles back at you, leaning down to press a deep kiss to your lips.

"I'm glad, because I need just a little more to~ You know..."

How he can fuck you all the way up to Heaven, but shy away when it comes to voicing the simplest of things will always be beyond you. Still, you're too satisfied and sated to bring it up and tease him right now.

You're actually so sated you barely register his orgasm.

When Alastor finally slows, his movements become languid, savoring the last few moments of connection.

He presses a kiss against your temple as he pulls out, carefully.

A deep warmth lingers in your core, a mix of his seed and your own juices slipping out, leaving you feeling full and entirely undone.

"Sleepy?"

"You have no idea."

Your lover's gaze gets fixed on where you're leaking onto the bed sheets and he doesn't try to hide his possessive and proud expression.

You let out a little noise as the slickness spreads, shifting uncomfortably.

"Sticky" you mutter, your voice still weak from the intensity of your release.

He chuckles, going back to amused, before leaning down to press another kiss to your lips.

"I'll take care of it."

True to his word, he disappears briefly and returns with a warm, damp towel. He cleans you gently, murmuring soothing words each time you shiver from the sensation.

When he's finished, he wraps you in a soft blanket he finds on a nearby chair and gathers you into his arms -his antlers brushing yours in the tender gesture you both seem to love.

"You're safe" he whispers, cradling you close against his chest. "Alastor got you."

Your body melts into him and you let exhaustion overtake you, sighing contentedly.

"I hate you sometimes" you mumble sleepily, though the affection in your tone conveys the true meaning of your words.

He chuckles, his chest vibrating against you. "And yet, here you are, letting me hold you. How peculiar."

"Shut up" you grumble, burying your face in his chest.

The first thing you notice when you wake is the warmth.

Alastor is still wrapped around you, his long limbs tangled with yours, his breath heavy and steady against the crown of your head. The weight of his arm draped over your waist is comforting, his fingers twitching in utter relaxation.

But there's something else here -the ache, insistent, stirring as you shift against him and even more as you breathe in his natural scent. You bite your lip, trying to ignore it, but the moment you press your thighs together, a soft whimper escapes you.

Alastor stirs immediately, his crimson eyes fluttering open.

"Hmm? What's the matter, my dear?"

His voice is thick with sleep, but his focus sharpens as he takes in your flushed cheeks and the restless way you're shifting.

"Nothing" you reply dismissively, though the way your body arches slightly against his betrays you.

He raises an eyebrow, a small, knowing smile tugging at his lips.

"You're not very convincing" he coos, his hand sliding down to rest on your hip. "Do you need something?"

You squirm under his gaze, your face heating up in both embarrassment and arousal.

"I woke up like this, okay?" you say defensively, frustrated tears prickling at the corners of your eyes.

His teasing demeanor shifts instantly, replaced by a tenderness that makes your chest ache.

"Oh, my poor thing"

He brushes a stray tear from your cheek with his thumb.

Before you can protest, his hand slides lower, his fingers finding your bundle of nerves with practiced ease -that he gained from your times together.

He moves slowly, coaxing soft gasps and whimpers from you.

"You're such a sensitive thing when you're in heat" he murmurs, his voice laced with awe.

"So perfect."

His touch is gentle but insistent, building you up until you're trembling. When you finally climax, it's softer than the night before but no less intense, leaving you breathless and boneless in his arms.

Alastor holds you close as you recover, his lips pressing soft kisses along your forehead and temple.

"Better?" he asks, his voice earnest and soothing.

You nod, burying your face against his neck. "Much better."

He chuckles, running his fingers through your hair. "I'll have to be more mindful of how easily I can wear you out."

You smack his chest lightly, earning another laugh, before settling back into the comfortable silence. As the morning light filters through the room, you let yourself relax, feeling safe and cherished in his arms.

"Thank you" you whisper, your voice barely audible.

He tilts your chin up, his red eyes meeting yours.

"Always" he replies softly, his antlers brushing yours in that gesture, hour gesture, yours and his -and it makes your heart ache.

In this moment, you realize there is no going back.

This isn't just fleeting indulgence -it's the beginning of something far deeper, something that feels as primal and undeniable as the instincts that brought you together.

You're his and he's yours. Forever.

To be continued.

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