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Soft yandere Miguel O’Hara
cw: noncon, breeding, kidnapping, m masturbation, biting, SPOILERS. Headcanons and drabble. 1.4k words.
Mean dom Miguel is so hot, but I find that soft yan Miguel has so much overlap with canon.
This man still does all the sick and deplorable things a villain does, but in a way that's strangely tender.
I mean, you simultaneously have to be a sweet man and a stone-cold motherfucker to step in the shoes of your dead counterpart and con his family into thinking everything is fine. Like, he (eventually) fucked a dead man's wife, adopted his child, and seamlessly integrated into his shoes.
While certainly calloused, it also reveals a profound desperation for love and a willingness to do anything for it.
Enter you: a Spider from a random dimension that got caught up in an anomaly's destruction. Maybe your world was destroyed or it's emotionally difficult for you to return, so you end up spending a lot of time at HQ.
Miguel doesn't notice you for a while. There's hundreds of Spiders milling about the base, so it's only until you befriend Peter B and his baby that you get acquainted.
You draw him in without trying, no matter the walls that Miguel puts up. He needs to focus—everyone's very existence is at stake, dammit,—but by month five, you're the only thing he can think about.
His advances start off slow, bogged down by his own exasperation at himself. You're ordered to give in-person de-briefs in Miguel's office and get invited to lunch with him and Peter B, giving you the impression of an upcoming promotion. Miguel is as poised as ever, not letting a single stray emotion color his expression, and talks to you in an aloof, polite manner.
However uninterested he might seem, his insides tighten and flutter at your growing friendship. Every time you smile or secretly share a bemused look, he sinks deeper and deeper in his desire to have you.
Proximity-wise, Miguel vacillates between sitting next to you, close enough for your elbows to brush, and standing 30 feet away on his podium for the next week.
His involuntary, physical reactions startle him, and it becomes another contention he internally wars about. The second he thinks it's harmless to brush against you, it divulges into grabbing—cupping—pinning—fucking—ruining.
God, he fucking loathes the powerless feeling you inflict on him, but he doesn't have the strength to put an end to your friendship. He furiously jerks off after every meeting, biting into his hand to punish himself as he comes to the thought of you swollen with his child.
He thinks of all the deplorable ways to make you pay for causing these feelings, but he ultimately knows the blame lies within him. You see him as a boss and friend, nothing more. You would never intentionally drag him down to this state, so he bottles up all these feelings for your protection.
It takes a particularly bad mission for his control to break.
Whatever reservations he had about locking you in his bedroom evaporate when he sees you covered in blood and rubble. Protecting you from himself was one thing, but the thousands of universes?
You didn't realize what happened until you woke up in an unfamiliar bedroom, weary from pain medication.
He takes your fear, anger, and tears in stride.
While he can't shake his bitchy personality, his annoyance always fizzles out to mumbles and sighs. For months, he takes your verbal abuse and outbursts with resigned acceptance. Miguel didn't always like what he had to do, but he would commit any atrocity if it meant keeping you at his side.
He moves some of his work at home to spend more time with you, just content to occupy the same room while you adjusted to your new situation.
Your shared apartment is quiet most days, save for sporadic outbursts of rage from you, and Miguel daydreams about having a few little kids running around to fill the void.
He stares at you most evenings, watching you curled up on the couch pointedly ignoring him. Miguel thinks you wouldn't be so belligerent if you needed him for something, if you craved his presence and help in some way.
Miguel's mind always drifts back to his favorite fantasies on nights like these: you nine months pregnant and too big for anything other than his shirts. His eyes drift down to your stomach, to the place where you could make his dreams come true.
Patience is something Miguel prides himself on, which is why he puts up with the loneliness for nearly a year after bringing you home. You were given ample time to warm up to him and he's been nothing but kind. Every broken plate and spoiled food, every scratch across his face, every insult—he let you have your way in hopes that you'll eventually recognize him as your lover.
But no. You complained and struggled every step of the way.
Miguel could never hurt you, but he realized that more permanent and assertive measures had to be taken to make you see that you need and love him as much as he does you.
---
When he finally takes you, there's hardly any space between your bodies. There are months of touch starvation to make up for and Miguel is compensating all at once.
His entire 6'9" stature pins you to his bed, locking you between arms as large as your thighs. Miguel is the only thing you see or feel, as his hands caress every dip and curve of your body and his cock grinds against your slit.
With your legs helplessly hiked up around his waist and one of his hands pinning your wrists above your head, he makes love to you with a slow burning intensity.
Your fear and disgust are palpable, but between his sweet voice in your ear and his fingers somehow knowing the rhythm and speed to play with your clit, you're more wet than you've ever been.
"Shh, shh, mi cornazón. I have you." Miguel kisses your jaw, his cock rocking in and out of your aching heat with an agonizingly slow pace. "Just breathe steadily and let me take care of you."
He's too big inside of you, and your grunts of pain make him linger in place to help you adjust. When his stride picks up and the wet sounds of sex fill the bedroom, disgust roils in your stomach. Yet fuck, fuck, fuck, your body temperature rises with each stroke.
Miguel kisses you deeply, using his free hand to hold your head in place. He says, "It's time. I've been so patient. Be brave for me and take our baby."
He swallows your horrified pleading with another scorching kiss.
Your pussy clenches around his dick and your breath catches in your throat. Miguel hugs you tighter, his nose pressed into your hair as he angles himself just right. When the first waves of your orgasm make your head dip back, the sharp edge of fangs scratch your neck.
You barely register his mantra of, "Te amo," when his jaw clamps down on your shoulder. Blood spurts from between his teeth, and you cry out in confused pain as your orgasm shakes your body.
Miguel moans into your flesh seconds later, pumping his cum deep inside you. His thrusting is uncoordinated and rough, too blinded by pleasure to notice how powerful his pounding is. The mattress springs whine beneath you two, and you can only cry from the overwhelming treatment.
He milks every last drop of cum into your cunt before he begins to slow. Both of you gasp for breath, your chests heaving against one another's as sweat cools on your hot skin.
He keeps you plugged up for a while longer to give the conception time. His bloodied lips drag across the wound on your shoulder, peppering you with kisses as he trails red along your neck.
A sob shutters in your chest as Miguel runs a palm along your stomach.
"You'll understand soon. I promise. This will be the best thing that's ever happened to us."
#yandere miguel o'hara#dark miguel o hara#yandere miguel x reader#miguel o'hara smut#yandere miguel o'hara x reader#yandere spiderverse#cw: noncon#cw: breeding#afab#tw yandere
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Title: Creature Feature.
Yandere: Yandere!Miguel x Reader.
Word Count: 1.3k.
TW: Non/Con, AFAB!Reader, Unhealthy Relationships, Manipulation, Mentions of Non-Human Anatomy, Obsessive Behavior, and Rough Sex.
You weren’t sure when you decided the man living in your house and fathering your daughter was not your husband.
It might’ve been last week, when you caught him sitting in his unlit study hours after he’d promised he would come to bed, his eyes glowing vaguely red as he fiddled with a device you didn’t recognize with tools you’d never seen him use, before. It might’ve been two months ago, when Gabi’s teacher called you into a conference to discuss your daughter’s worrying new obsession with spiders and superheroes and the holographic women that, if what she’s been telling her classmates is to be believed, read her bedtime stories when her father wasn’t home. It might’ve been that first night – when he came home from work hours late and doting a black eye, missing the glasses you would never see him wear again and too shell-shocked to do anything more than stand in Gabi’s doorway and let you fuss over him. You’d done everything you should’ve, kissed his cheek and begged him to tell you what happened and pretended to believe him when he said there’d been an accident at the research facility, but it hadn’t felt right, hadn’t felt like it would’ve if you’d been taking care of the man you’d loved for most of your life.
And, when he snapped out of his daze long enough to drag you into his arms and pull you into a kiss more forceful than anything your Miguel would’ve been capable of, you couldn’t help but shudder, but draw back when his hands started to drift lower and he proved to share your husband’s instability, if only that. That was what made the final decision, really. He wasn’t your husband, but it wasn’t as if you couldn’t see a glimmer of something you recognized when you looked at him.
Or, it wasn’t as if you couldn’t normally see a glimmer of something you recognized.
Right now, you knew the man on top of you was a total stranger.
He wasn’t Miguel. He couldn’t have been. Miguel would never hold you so tightly, never dig his fingertips so deeply into your waist, never be so determined to keep you so suffocatingly close to him. His nails would never be so sharp – pointed claws piercing your skin, drawing blood that dripped down your sides and pooled on the sheets beneath you – and he’d never been so massive, either, bulging muscle lining his arms, his defined chest heaving with every ragged breath and strangled moan, both a far cry from the borderline malnourished lab-rat that was the love of your life. His face was malformed, misshapen; curved fangs poking past his parted lips, distorting the shape of his mouth and leaking drops of luminescent venom that fell onto your chest and coated everything they touched with the same numbing, buzzing static. Even his eyes – the eyes you’d always loved, the eyes you would’ve known if nothing else of your husband remained – were gone, drowned out by the shadows cast over his face, the darkness you couldn’t seem to shake when he was around. What little remained was tinted red and bloodshot, pushed miles past the point of remote familiarity. You’d let this stranger, this thing into your home. You’d let him drive your daughter to school, look after her when she was sick.
You hadn’t let him fuck you, but he was fucking you, and you hadn’t been able to stop him.
The sounds he was making were awful, too. Your husband had been adorably shy, prone to biting his tongue and repeating your name over and over and over again, as if the feeling of your cunt milking his cock made it impossible to remember anything else. This Miguel was, in comparison, couldn’t seem to stop making those terrible noises; throaty grunts and airy moans spilling past his lips, only partially muffled by your skin as he buried his face in the curve of your throat. One of his hands fell to your thighs, curling around it and forcing your knee against your chest, making it so he could force himself that much deeper into you, so he could thrust into you with that much more raw strength. You were glad Gabi was staying at a friend’s, tonight. Her room was next to yours, and you would’ve been surprised if there was an apartment in your building that couldn’t hear your headboard beating against the wall, couldn’t make out every pitchy rise and fall of the drawn-out whine choked out of some deep, vulnerable pocket in your chest as he buried those pointed fangs in the crook of your neck.
You felt him force something into you, your vision blurring as the blood seemed to smolder in your veins. Suddenly, the feeling of his pelvic bone catching on your clit was unbearable, your own slick now burning as it dripped down your thighs. It wasn’t a whine you let out, this time, but a sob – ragged and broken, hitched as it emerged from uncooperative lungs and further fractured by the way his chest pressed into yours as he straightened his back, as he drew back just far enough to smile down at you, to let those cruel eyes go soft and half-lidded. “Oh, mi amor…” You didn’t notice you were crying until his hand cupped your face, until his thumb swiped over your cheek and came away wet. “I could fall in love with you all over again.”
Your husband would never say that. Your husband would never imply that there ever could’ve been a world where he wasn’t in love with you, that there ever could’ve been a life he would’ve led that wouldn’t feature you at its center. Your husband would never grow fangs and claws and force himself on you with all the care and tenderness of a rampaging monster. Your husband—
Your husband wasn’t here.
Your husband wasn’t here, and it didn’t seem like he’d ever be coming back.
You curled into yourself, sobbing unabashedly. Miguel (or, whatever the creature on top of you called himself) welcomed your devastation with open arms, leaning back and pulling you onto his lap, bouncing you on his cock as a low, reverberating purr sparked in the base of his throat and filled what little empty space was left in your bedroom. He watched on as you scrambled to wrap your arms around his neck, letting out a breathy laugh as he nuzzled into the dip of your shoulder and went on. “Fucking beautiful,” he groaned, his cock practically throbbing against the walls of your cunt. “I don’t know how I got by without you. I’m never—” A fractured moan, the tips of pointed teeth ghosting over your jugular. “I’m never letting you leave my side again.”
It was a promise, a threat, spoken with enough dedication to send a cold shudder up the length of your spine. You only realized your mouth had fallen open when you heard your own voice, distant and distraught. “Who... who are you?”
Some part of you expected him to devolve, for what was left of his disguise to fall away and reveal rows upon rows of jagged teeth that would tear into your skin, countless eyes that would stare you down like some trapped insect, half a dozen more arms and hands he could use to grab and grope and pull and maim. You expected blood to spill by the bucketful, flesh to melt away like candlewax, rough edges and broken anatomy and all the terrible monstrosities that had to be lingering inside of a creature like him. You expected all the worst things you could possibly imagine, but in the end, what you got was so, so much worse.
His manic grin melted into a softened smile. He pressed another open-mouthed kiss into your throat before pulling away, staring down at you with more love than anything human could’ve spared. “I’m your husband.” And then, again, as he settled so deeply inside of you, you could only pray you’d be able to forget the feeling of him, one day.
“I’m yours.”
#yandere#yandere x reader#yandere x you#yandere imagines#yandere oneshot#yandere miguel o'hara#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel x reader#yandere miguel#spiderverse
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Jacket obsession
Spider-Verse: You leave a piece of clothing behind with a yandere.
Characters: Miles Morales, Gwen Stacy, 42!Miles Morales, Hobie Brown, Miguel O'Hara
Warnings: Obsession, stealing, yandere tendencies, just them going lovely over a piece of clothing.
Miles Morales:
Oh poor boy at first freaked out trying to get your attention before you enter the portal without your jacket.
“Wait! You’ll get colded.” He shouted as you entered the portal not hearing him.
After a few seconds after with worry in his chest he looked down at the clothing in hand and realized what he had. A piece of you that he could hold while he was away from you, and he hated being away from you, but the boys heart filled up with happiness.
The clothing smell just like you and if he threw it over a pillow it would be like cuddling with you. Boy is over the moon. And I mean like so giddy it’s embarrassingly cute.
He takes it every where with him, to the kitchen it’s in his hands, watching or playing games? It’s in his lap. He smells it constantly and gets really sad after a week when it doesn’t smell like you anymore.
However when you come back to his dimension and request for your jacket his heart breaks. Boy pouts security at the lose but he sees this as a way to get it to smell like you again and steal it after a while.
Overall if you leave anything he will take it and treasure it until you come back because now he has you for the time being.
He’s more of a clingy yandere but he still can’t help but obsessive over his darling.
“Maybe i could give you one of mine- Incase you lose yours again that is.”
Hobie Brown
Cocky little man notices it before you even want to leave and he knows you’ll forget it so he just lets you.
He loves when you leave things behind, thinks it might be a way of flirting. But when you do leave clothing he just feral about it.
Like he just can’t stop smelling it and just wants to hold it all day. He thinks of how cute you look in or how you smile and everything you do just flashes in his head.
Man is devilish to me. So he has a collection of things he steals from your bedroom when you’re out and he sneaks into your dimension. Clothes, shoes, necklaces or anything he can find.
You come back to him for it but he just holds it in his hands, above you and around the room when you try and take it way. “You mean this jacket?” Boy will have so much fun making you annoyed.
Hobie will leave his jacket on your room in hopes you’d wear it and think of him like he does you. He gets a grin when he thinks about it.
“If yah’ wanted to give me your jacket all yah’ had to do was say so.”
Gwen Stacy
You think she’s just chilling? Um no, she isn’t.
She loves you so much, her whole thing is like “I’ve lost to much.” And if she’s a yandere she can’t stop loving everything you do-Anyway.
She wears it and it can be oversized or maybe tight? She doesn’t care. She doesn’t take it off her body until it stops smelling like you or until she needs to get in her suit.
Gwen is maybe fighting with her self for many different reasons and they are:
“This is creepy.” “Oh cares? They smell so good.”
“They did this on purpose, so cute.” “No they just forgot it Gwen.”
Conflict with her own feelings all the time. But she never stops holding it close.
Gwen likes the idea of wearing your clothes to make it know she’s taken and that you’re hers. Can’t stop thinking of when you get to wear her clothes.
Yes, you guys aren’t “Dating” But your all hers.
“Don’t worry, I kept it so safe. By the way, could I borrow it again?”
Miguel O'Hara
Doesn’t care-Joking.
Miguel wouldn’t think about it at first and knows you just forget it and will come back for it later. But as time goes by, a hour, he can’t stopped looking at it for some reason.
He sneaks over like someone is watching him and picks it up. His mouth waters at the smell of you and he wouldn’t be able to let it go.
It might have rinkles on it from him carrying it so much. It’s his stress ball. You guys ever seen a kid carry around a blanket? Well that’s him.
He does feel wrong for obsessing over the piece of cloth but for different reasons then Gwen. He thinks he’s above something like this, doesn’t think it’s a big deal and he should forget it.
But when it puts it down a few seconds, it’s immediately in his hand again.
Yes, he does put it on a pillow and holds it close like he’s protecting you. He’s practically for when you get to be in his arms.
When you asked for it back he stands still for a minute. He feels sad and hates it because it’s just so stupid! Of course he gives you it back.
“I could give you one of mine…Only because that one doesn’t seem like it keeps you warm.”
42!Miles Morales
He’s a lot like Miguel in this situation a bit. And even if I see him as a big, big hard yandere he doesn’t think this is to big of a deal. Now don’t get me wrong he loves it, he just isn’t crazy as the rest of them.
Though, he does like to have it near him when he sleeps like have you close to him, or smell it whenever he can. Of course he has it in his lap when he’s gaming but the jacket never leaves his room.
Will buy the same one as you so you two can match and he can give you his. He thinks about you wearing something of his, like goes crazy just thinking of it.
You ask for it back? That’s cool, just try and get it from him. He loves to tease you to the ends of the earth and he would give it to you when you ask. But you’re just so cute when you get annoyed.
“If you wanted a jacket mami you could have asked for mine. Think mine would look cuter on you away.”
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Lessons
TW: dark content!!, yandere!shigaraki tomura x female reader, noncon/dubcon, implied kidnapping, degradation, humiliation, begging, anal fingering, piv, tomura is mean, mdni. wc: 2k Synopsis: Tomura thinks it’s time you learned an important lesson.
"I got something for you today."
Here he goes again, you think as you watch Shigaraki place a white plastic bag onto his desk. It’s hard to fight the roll of your eyes, but you do. He’s been in a mood lately and you don’t want to push your luck more than you have.
It’s become routine, you and him.
He gets too close, you tell him off. It surprises you that he actually listens and instills some kind of confidence in yourself — in your words. Maybe you have more power over the situation than you thought.
The rustle of the bag catches your attention and you watch as he pulls out a few things. An energy drink, a small box of what looks like bandages and a small bottle of clear liquid.
Your brows raise, interest piqued and you sit up a little straighter to see better.
“What do you—?”
He holds the bottle up and your face scrunches in confusion. His smile is one that sends chills up your spine and you have to will yourself to stop being antsy.
“Lube. It’s for you!” He says like it’s a birthday gift you’ve waited all year for. “You’ve been so… mouthy lately, I’ve decided to give you something to mouth off about. Won’t that be fun?”
The question is rhetorical and you no longer fight your antsy movements. Rushing to your feet and taking a pointed step away from Shigaraki, your eyes narrow, “what are you talking about?” You’ve never had to use lube. He’s just taken what he’s wanted and your body adjusts every time — as much as you hated it.
He places the lube back onto the desk and grabs his energy drink, cracking the can open and taking a sip of the sugary sweet soda. He was calm, patient — eerily so.
After he’s had his fill of the drink, Shigaraki looks to you and nods his head in the direction of the bed. “Get on it.”
Your heart felt like it would pound out of your chest as you held your hands up to the man before you. “Wait, Tomura, we can—!”
“Oh?” He cuts you off, voice lifted and mockingly playful, “I’m Tomura now? But you were so comfortable calling me shigaraki.”
He places his drink can back on the desk and fully turns toward you. “I didn’t stutter. Get on the fucking bed.”
You knew his patience was wearing thin, but you still had to try. Taking a shaky breath, you get onto the bed, sitting down on the edge of it.
“On your hands and knees.”
Your blood ran cold, and you tried once more, searching your brain for any sweet words that could placate him. Desperate to find something, anything he would like to hear from you, “please—“
He’s in front of you before you can blink, large hand grabbing your face and pressing your cheeks together, “I’m done playing these games with you,” you can smell the sugar from the drink on his breath as your breathing picks up, pricks of panic lacing your body.
Shigaraki crashed his lips into yours, wasting no time slipping his tongue into your wet mouth. The taste of sweet energy drink was nauseating but you kissed back in fear of what he would do if he didn’t. You’ve exhausted all options and you knew, deep down that anything more would only make things worse.
He pulls away, a trail of saliva following as he meets your eyes — and god, his smile. He’s giddy like a kid on Christmas and you regret every act of defiance you’ve made against him these past few weeks.
“Cute.” Was the only word he gave before you were being manhandled onto your stomach, face in the pillows and ass in the air.
“You know,” he muses, pressing his clothed erection to your panties, “I’m starting to think you want this. You want to see me angry so I can put you in your place.”
He backs away to pull your underwear down in one swift movement, making you reach back to attempt to cover yourself. This only irritates him more as he grabs your wrist and pins your arm behind your back. The angle is as painful as it is uncomfortable.
You hear him shuffling around behind you, no doubt one free hand of his own making things more difficult — and you take small pleasure in that. It’s short lived though as he seems to find what he’s looking for and you brace yourself for the inevitable.
There’s the pop of a cap and then smooth cold liquid dripping down your backside and over your hole that makes you shiver. You feel frozen as the liquid trails lower and lower until it’s past the heat of your cunt.
All it takes is the press of a finger to get you putting up a fight once more. there was no way he was really doing this. He’s never tried this.
“I shouldn’t even prep you, honestly,” he mutters and you wince as one of his digits slowly push past the ring of muscle. “You’ve been so defiant. You really need to learn some manners.”
The tears streaming from your eyes are making the pillow below you damp and cold, but you can only sniff in response. “Tomura, please—“
“Please what?” He sinks the finger deeper and you can’t hold back your yelp of pain.
You shake your head as much as you can, “please stop! It hurts..”
He pulls out suddenly and you think he’s actually going to listen — that he’s actually done torturing you until-
A hand swings down and slaps your ass, making you cry out. He imitates a buzzer sound before gripping the fat of your bottom, “wrong answer!”
You thrash more as panic wells up inside when you feel the prodding of two fingers instead of one against your hole. “You know, this is supposed to be your punishment,” both won’t fit and he resorts to only letting one finger penetrate, his other hand massaging the cheek of your behind. “But I’m afraid you may like this too much.”
He is delusional. Shigaraki is the one that’s having the time of his life watching you suffer and writhe. You try to pull forward and away but the hand that was massaging your ass is now grabbing your hip and holding you in place. Your cry is loud as you feel the pressure of another finger join the first and shigaraki wastes no time pumping the digits in and out of your hole.
You think your crying and begging falls on deaf ears — forcing you to accept the inevitable and you find yourself wishing you were anywhere else but here. You could be dropped off in the middle of the Sahara Desert during a summer heatwave and it would still be miles better than this hellhole.
Just when you’re about to surrender to your fate and stop fighting it, shigaraki speaks again, “Since I’m so kind and understanding, I’ll give you a choice.” it’s like he sensed you were on the verge of checking out. That would just be too easy. “Which hole do you want me in? Hm? Tell me.”
He’s gripping your hip tighter and you know there will be bruises formed but your mind could only focus on this awful option.
You don’t want him in either. The idea of having to tell him which way to violate you only made you nauseous. But you knew that you had to make a choice because it was always worse when he made one for you.
“M-my..” you feel sick, swallowing your shame and squeezing your eyes shut as you continue, “I want you in my.. pussy.”
You could practically hear the smile in Shigaraki's voice, “yeah? Beg for it.”
He wanted to humiliate you, this was the real punishment. To build you up, give you a false sense of security only to break you down even more. He was sick.
But you were sicker because you did exactly as you were told.
“Tomura, please. Please fuck me.” You turned your head, as if you could hide your shame into the pillow below you, “I need you.”
“Atta girl.” He praises, pulling his fingers out and you sigh in relief, nerves calming and shoulders relaxing. You almost melt into the sheets until you feel the pressure of shigaraki’s erection against your cunt. The lube is there and making things wetter than usual but the squeeze will still be uncomfortable.
You look back, worry lacing your features, “wait, Tomura—“ but you don’t have a chance to finish, he pushes into you, girth stretching you and making your toes curl in an odd combination of pleasure and discomfort.
Shigaraki lets out a sigh of relief, rocking his hips at a steady pace before leaning over you. “Fuck, that’s good.” The hand gripping your hip moves to cup your breast, tweaking the sensitive nub between his thumb and forefinger.
This was familiar, this was easy. It was not uncharted territory and it was something you could convince yourself was okay. Normal, even.
“Mine, mine, you’re all mine” he babbles into your ear and you don’t turn away, terrified he’ll go back on his words if you do.
His pace is picking up and you find yourself getting lost in the motions. His body rocking against yours as he changes the angle and oh—
He hits the spot inside and you can’t stop yourself from moaning out. It’s sensitive and it makes your back arch with every deep stroke.
“Fuckin’ slut, I knew you’d like this.” He mutters, circling his thumb around your unoccupied hole, the lube making it slide with ease, before pressing into the tightness. The pain is dull and the pressure of being filled so much almost sends you over, dragging a whine from the back of your throat.
The bed shakes from the force of Shigaraki’s thrusts and you feel heat pool in your lower abdomen. You were so close and you hated it. Hated him. But when you felt his warm hand move from your breast, down your stomach until it was splayed out over your cunt — pinkie finger lifted and middle finger brushing your clit with every thrust.
You were beginning to feel dizzy with pleasure and your head fell onto the pillow, hands gripping the sheets below to anchor yourself as you got lost in the feelings. It was overwhelming and you couldn’t bite back your cries and Shigaraki’s thrusts became erratic, he was close too.
All it took was one more thrust to sweep you over the edge, eyes rolling back as your thighs shook — orgasm claiming you.
“Oh, fuck.” Shigaraki breathed, stilling as his own waves of pleasure overcame him. You barely registered the pulse of his cock as he came deep inside of you.
You both try to catch your breath, time seeming to still as you panted. Shigaraki was the first to move, you felt him pull out and pause — no doubt watching his cum drip from your cunt — before taking his place next to you on the bed.
The quiet of the room is deafening and your eyelids feel heavy. You’re as still as a mouse, not wanting to stir and risk him starting up again, but his eyes are already closed. You almost think he’s asleep before he speaks again.
“Next time,” he starts, stretching before sitting up, “I won’t be so kind. So you should clean up your nasty attitude.”
You nod, dread weighing down your efforts. There wouldn’t be a next time, if you could help it. Regrettably, you tremble at the thought as you realize this is the exact lesson he was trying to teach you.
#yandere shigaraki#yandere shigaraki tomura#shigaraki tomura x reader#shigaraki tomura x you#shigaraki x reader#tomura x reader#shigaraki tomura#tw yandere#tw noncon#dark content
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tomura with hero reader whose quirk he's stolen, rendering them defenseless
Shigaraki Tomura
TW: slight nsfw, implied prev noncon, captive reader, Stockholm syndrome, implied mental break, mental deterioration, disassociation, manipulation, angsty, but also weirdly fluffy? reader is super fragile
gn reader
The chub of your inner thighs is still wet with the act. You rub them together for no other reason than that it feels pleasant. You trace the awful scars on his arm, using his warm chest as a pillow—the sound beating of his heart thumping rhythmically at your ear, a soothing presence.
He balances a red book atop your crown.
He doesn’t seem very interested in reading it—only regarding it with jaded eyes, a meager scoff then and there before turning the page. But still, even though the book didn’t excite him, it bothered you that his attention was elsewhere. It sowed the seeds of doubt and gave root to way too many intrusive thoughts, sprouting out and spreading like weeds throughout your mind, making your chest curl at the possibilities.
“Do you think I'm ugly?” you have to ask. You have to know, why isn’t he looking at you.
He pans away from the page, beady garnet eyes softening from scrutiny to nonplus.
Your question stunted him—nearly made him believe he’d heard you wrong. Why someone like you would ever ask someone like him something like that seemed beyond all reason. It would be the same if a flower asked gravel.
But then again, you’d become a little ditzy as of late. Or maybe you’d been so for a little while already. It’s hard to say—you don’t talk as much as you used to. You no longer scream either, though that had ceased even longer ago.
You continue to delicately run your finger over the tear where his tough skin meets the even tougher purple tissue as though mapping the damage. There’s a frown on your face. No, not a frown—a pout.
He thought for a moment to use it against you like he’d done everything else so far. Lie and say yes, tell you you’re about as ugly as he is—gravel—make you fall even further apart than what you were already. But something compelled him to choose differently.
“I think you're the prettiest thing in the world.”
Your pout is sucked between your teeth as you pick yourself up to peer down at him—eyes round and misty and something more, something strange—dare he say joyed?
You're scaring him.
“Really?” you choke out as if you’d been holding back a lump.
He hasn’t known how to treat you lately. You’ve become too soft to handle poorly—too frail to harass and too willing for him to feel the need to. Earlier, you'd even begged him to fuck harder and deeper—even cum inside. Actually, you hadn't veered away from his touch in a while. More like you've been embracing it.
He'd brushed it off as mere compliance at first, a state of meekness, weakened by being touch-starved, something that perhaps developed into a minor case of Stockholm syndrome.
But the way you're acting now—seems more concerning.
“Yeah,” is all he warrants as an answer. Though, he was curious as to yours as he begs the same question, “What about me?”
A smile graces your face then—there’s a comfort to it, a mild and affectionate one, unexaggerated, honest, as you smoothly swing your leg over his lap.
A look like that has no place on your face, especially when regarding him, and yet he finds himself hoping for more. He lays his book aside as you lean forward and doesn't stop you when you cup his face in both your palms.
“As far as I'm concerned, you’re not just the prettiest boy in the world—you're the only boy in the world.” You say it with a kiss, lips just as soft as the words leaving them. It shocks him, though he accepts and gives it back.
You close your eyes, laying your chest against his—he keeps his open to look at you. Observing and assessing.
You’ve truly become a whole other person altogether. A far cry from the tough hero you once were—the one who’d beat him within an inch of his life and leave him to choke on the blood.
“Will you stay with me today?” you ask against his lips—playing with his hair, looping the curly tresses around your fingers.
There’s a neediness to your voice, a certain desperation, a sadness—something lonely and something that reminds him all too much of himself. He feels both a strong urge to reject and soothe it all at the same time.
“No, I gotta go,” he says despite it. He had business.
You hide your face in his neck and continue with your tracing, now on the scrapes striping his throat where he’s raked his nails time and time again. “When will you come back?” Your tone comes out even sweeter, only a murmur mushed against his skin.
It nearly makes his heart twist. “It’s better I don’t answer that.”
It’s funny. Though the thought had struck him, he didn’t gauge any ill intentions. You could be asking, acting, plotting some escape based on the hours of his absence—yet somehow, with the way you nuzzle into him like that, as though you’re pouring your all-too-candid grief into him, he can't sense any other ulterior motive.
“Last time you left at this hour, you came back all beaten and bruised,” you mutter, now with a hint of bitterness—as if you’re cursing whoever hurt him under your breath.
It’s ironic. He sneers lazily, almost fondly, at the old memory. “You’re the one who used to beat and bruise me, remember?”
He’s truly curious if you do. Or if something’s spirited your past life away and left you like this—no longer an aspiring young hero, but something whose only value is warming his bed at night.
You arise, an appalled look of affront upon your face.
“No, that can’t be right,” you very nearly cry, as if the very thought was killing you. “I would never hurt you—I love you too much.”
Apparently, you don’t remember who you were at all.
“Love me?” he all but croaks. It’s a laughable prospect, and yet he doesn’t even smile. There’s something awful in his gut that prevents him. “Don't be stupid. You can't love me.”
Your face doesn’t drop its grimace, only further tears with forlorn outrage. “Of course, I love you!" you insist. "You’re my whole reason for living...”
You look so despaired—wrecked from his dismissal. The tears well quickly then slip down your face just as fast—and yet it isn’t the same crying as you used to. This time, it’s quiet—in wait or in dread as you beg the question,
“Don't you love me?”
It’s an unexpected one, and it quickly proves to be an existential one—even more so than your unnerving confession. Despite not wanting to, it leaves him to dig through the muck in his head he’d long ignored, down in the dark where he’d tried burying the truth he'd felt oncoming. He'd wanted to deny it, reject it, amend it, simply because it confused him too much to acknowledge—complicated things—changed things he didn’t want or need changing.
He wonders if it’s somehow proof of fate—even though he despises such a concept. That, no matter how much you practice free will, no matter how many knots you make upon the red string, the world will pull and straighten it out, and you’re left to realize you’d brought it all on yourself.
First, he took your quirk, then he took your body—your mind shortly followed—and now it seems he’s managed to take your heart, too.
There’s nothing left of you that isn’t his.
There was a time he’d frolic at the thought of having reduced you to such a pathetic ghost in a shell—back then, he’d do anything to destroy you—he’d surely shatter you into a million little scattered pieces if presented with the chance, make sure you were broken for good.
But that was the old him. Or rather, that was his dream for the old you—the hero he loathed down to his rotten core.
But the pretty misty-eyed thing looking down at him now, aching for his answer, wasn’t that person anymore.
And the truth is, the person you are now scares him more than that hero ever did.
You were… well, you were the person who warms his bed at night, the person who traces his scars and plays with his hair—the person who wraps themselves around him and keeps him from falling apart when he stumbles through the door into the tiny little room he keeps you a prisoner in. You're his.
This time, his heart does twist. He’s never before spoken the words that dance on his tongue, or if he has, they’ve been long forgotten and come out as dust balls as he affirms them now,
“Yes. I love you.”
There’s a flash of hope in your eyes, though it just as quickly diminishes—as if you don’t believe him.
Your lip warbles as you confirm it, “No, you don’t.”
More tears run silently down the tracks on your cheeks, gathering at the tip of your chin before dripping upon his chest—each one like a gunshot through something hollow.
“If you did, you wouldn’t go. You wouldn’t leave me here in this room, all alone.” Your nails curl into your palms where they rest atop him. You bow your head as though you can’t bear to look at him, as if it hurts. The next words come out beneath your breath, “How am I supposed to compete with the whole world?”
You’re making him feel like dying. The continuous twists of his heart feel as if you’re about to tear it right out of his chest.
He sits up and lifts your face. It’s strange, even with his two-finger gloves on. He doesn’t think he’s ever held you like this. Though, suppose it’s been a night of many firsts already. And here comes another,
“As far as I’m concerned, you are my world.”
There you are, the one thing he doesn’t wish to destroy.
Your sore eyes become round, then swell with different tears. There’s a hitch in your breath as you sigh through a shuddering sob, throwing your arms around his neck and clinging to him tightly—your body jostling while you rub your wet face into his neck, holding him close for comfort as if you're scared to ever let go.
He returns the gesture, though somewhat hesitantly, wrapping his arms around you and laying his head to rest against your shoulder.
And then, as he holds you—for the first time ever, fear of actually losing the fight ahead strikes him.
He hadn’t much cared about the outcome before. Either he’d destroy or be destroyed.
This wasn’t as simple. As said earlier, this complicated things.
But then again, it was even more of a reason to go.
“But I still have to leave.”
You part from him—the betrayal in your tone demanding his justification, “Why?”
Suppose, in some ways, this actually made things simpler—as that was a question he had no problem answering.
“‘Cause there are monsters outside…” He rests his forehead upon yours, gazing back into those terribly glassy eyes looking back at him as he speaks to you about your dear old colleagues. “Monsters who want nothing but to take you away from me.”
If only they could see you now, they’d know… you no longer want to leave him.
“So I have to go out there and make sure they have no chance,” he explains, almost like a vow, “You’re mine, and I’ll destroy anyone who says otherwise to keep you that way.”
The way your eyes melt makes him feel all fuzzy. It’s a special type of glee, a victory before the battle even begins—to see you root for him—so deep in love with him that you’ve forgotten you’re celebrating the onset of death to all of your former friends.
They probably wouldn’t be able to take you away from him even if they somehow managed to invade this very room. You’d sooner die than betray him.
And that makes him feel all the more ready for the war ahead.
“So kiss me good luck, and I’ll come right back to you soon.”
♡ SHIGARAKI TOMURA ♡ BOKU NO HERO ACADEMIA masterlist
#yandere shigaraki#yandere shigaraki tomura#yandere shigaraki x reader#yandere boku no hero academia#yandere my hero academia#yandere mha#yandere bnha#yandere tomura#yandere tomura shigaraki#tomura shigaraki x reader
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꒰ :🥀 [ Hells greatest Demon ] ”♡ᵎ꒱ˀˀ ↷ ⋯
Summary : You've had quite a rough day, so Alastor tries his best to cheer you up with some food and a broadcast.
Pairing : Alastor x Reader
Word count : 1305
Genre : Sweet Fluff
Warnings ➵ Hinting of cannibalism (Alastor)
a/n : Very self-indulged bcs Alastor is my comfort chara rn and I'm currently having a rather hard time.. Also I'm very very new to Hazbin Hotel, so I'm so sorry if smth doesn't match up or seems out of character! Decided to write this simply for comfort!♡
┌───────────────────────── · · · · ♡
It was another hellish day, like always work was keeping you on your toes, Charlie had yet another plan and of course activity everyone at the hotel had to join in. Niffty was keeping you busy more than any other day, it was slowly getting to you. On top of that, your ex had to show up at your workplace today.
So with all this happening, you decided to get a bit of peace with a tea in the kitchen, but your mind was running a race, ending in simply resting your head on the kitchen table and closing your eyes for a second, trying to tune out Angels and Husks banter at the bar.
"Greetings my dear!" A cheerful, yet accompanied by a radio static sound, voice sounded behind you, you wanted to groan but swallowed it down again. It's not like you despised Alastor, quite the opposite, he was rather lovely and nice to you, shocking. But he sometimes loves to play into someone's despair and you're no exception. "Oh darling, you look rather doomed, haha, why don't you smile, you know you're never fully dressed without one!" Alastor walked past you, shrugging off his coat and laying it onto the back of one of the chairs, his sleeves being pushed up by his hands now. "I'm not really in the mood for smiling right now.." He took a quick glance at you, which you didn't notice of course, before he turned around again to the stove. His staff was now leaning against the kitchen cupboard, soft jazz music was now playing, which was calming you down a bit more.
"Mind sharing your thoughts darling? You look rather lost in them." It was weird for Alastor to care for others problems, yet he asked you, still his back turned to you, your eyes open yet again, following his movements. Getting ready to cook, probably his favorite, Jambalaya. "It's just been a really hard day, Niffty almost got me killed, my boss just dumped a week's extra load onto me which I shall finish in three days, and then on top of this all my stupid fucker of an ex decided to show up at my work." At the last words, just slightly, barely noticeable, the red-haired demon tensed up a bit. "That does seem like a rough day my dear, how about I make you some nice new tea and when I finish cooking you'll get the first plate." Turning to you now, his signature smile was planted on his face, you doubt you ever saw him without one, it can be unsettling at times, but mostly it was fine. Alastor grabbed your teacup, and set up a cattle with fresh water, as he scooped some tea into your cup, all the while starting to prepare to cook. It was calming, he was calming. Despite hearing the others all around the hotel, the jazz music, and the soft sounds of Alastor cooking, you could swear you also heard him hum softly to the music but you didn't dare mention it to him, were drowning everything out.
A hot steaming cup was swiftly set in front of you, the tea a different one now than you had before, but it still gave of a soothing and calming smell. With a thank you, you took a sip of the porcelain cup.
It was quiet in the kitchen for the time being, only the soft music and Alastors cooking, you two were merely enjoying the presence of the other, it was calming your mind and you finally felt your shoulders relaxing. Soon a plate was placed in front of you, it was Jambalaya, which you already ate countless times since staying at the hotel, Alastor loved to make it often. He himself now sitting down beside you at the table with a plate of his own, coat still on the chair, sleeves still pushed to his elbows.
"Thanks!" Thanking him for the plate, you immediately dig in, the taste was amazing like always, Alastor truly is a master at cooking. Soon the others joined in the kitchen, the kitchen was now booming with voices and laughter, but this time it didn't bother you, it was nice to eat all together. Laughing at some joke Angel just made, before talking with Charlie about some idea how to get new guests for the hotel. All the while the eyes of a certain demon were on you.
After the good meal, everyone together started cleaning their dishes, Nifty almost threw her fork at an insect on the floor, but Husker took the fork away before she could accidentally harm someone. In the end, it was just you and Alastor left, as you put away all the clean plates now, Alastor putting his coat back on, as he took his microphone staff.
"So how are you feeling dear? Better now?" Jumping a little bit at how close his voice suddenly was, turning your head just slightly, noticing how Alastor was now standing behind you and leaning over your shoulder. "Y-Yes! Thanks a lot again!" Stepping away from him, he simply watched you with his usual smile. "Splendid! How about you join me for my broadcast?" Eyes going wide now at his offer, he never allowed anyone to join him when he goes on air, hell, if someone were to disturb him they shall never be seen again. So to say you were stunned was an understatement.
"I would love to but.. are you sure?" You often listened to his broadcast when you had time, or sometimes put it on when you go to sleep, but to listen to him live? That would be amazing. "Well of course my dear, if I wasn't sure I wouldn't have offered! Well then! Let's get going!" A big smile was now stretched on his face, as he was leaving the kitchen in tow with you.
Arriving at his radio tower, which you never saw from the inside before, so you're actually a bit hyped to join him. Holding the door open for you like the gentleman he is, you enter and immediately start looking around. Walking over to the big windows, you could see the city below, from up here it looked so small, it was amazing. "Well my dear, do take a seat wherever you like, we're soon going on air." Looking back at Alastor with a smile now as you nod, taking a seat on the couch on the wall. Overall the room wasn't that big, his room, which you saw before a few times, was definitely bigger than this. Leaning against the wall a bit, you wait for Alastor to start his broadcast.
"Salutation hell, good to be back on the air today..." You were listening closely, he was playing some soft music in the background while talking. Slowly the exhaustion from today was creeping on you more with every minute that passed. And before you knew it, your consciousness slipped away intdreamlandnd.
Alastor kept the broadcast going, ending it after a good one or two hours, looking over at you, his dear darling. A smile wide on his face, as he puts everything he used away to his original place. Slow steps were made over to you, as he was shrugging his coat off and laying it over your body carefully. "Sleep well darling, hope you liked my broadcast." A strand was pushed behind your ear, that fell in front of your face.
Turning to the door now, the soft smile he wore for you, slowly turned into a sinister smile. "Now to that ex of yours.." Leaving the room, he closes the door behind him, and let's just say, he had a nice midnight snack this time and your ex to your surprise never showed up at your workplace again.
#hazbin hotel#hazbin alastor#hazbin x reader#alastor#alastor x reader#x reader#hazbin alastor x reader#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel x you#alastor x you
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hiii! this is my first request on tumblr but i jus love alastor sm and there is NOT enough fics for me out there. so im asking u❤️
what abt alastor being jealous of someone else in the hotel? for example: angel dust, he puts on music and you two are dancing with eachother happily not noticing the red eyed demon with a tight grin. 🥰
Hii! Honestly after writing this I realized I didn't follow the prompt exactly, less jealousy and more Alastor being overprotective. Oh well! Hope you like it anyway :D!
Be Back Soon (i)
alastor x reader (fluff? alastor is just overprotective) part i TW: Cursing/Angel existing if you want tagged in the next part, lmk!
Your fingers dragged down the skin around your eyes as you let out a long sight, sitting at Husk’s bar with shoulders propped on the cold counter. What a day it had been, running around in the typical chaos of the hotel as Charlie tried to get some group bonding activities finished. It was getting late, and you just finally had a moment of peace.
“‘Ey, toots!” The chipper voice broke your peace and you couldn’t help it when another audible sigh escaped you. The culprit of the broken science paid no mind.
Turning your head, you narrowed your eyes and made eye contact with the lanky pink spider. You were a little salty at him in particular, being one of the main catalysts to the everyday insanity. He had an easy grin played upon his lips as he stared back down at you with his multicolored eyes, one pair of arms on his hips that jutted out a little too unnaturally in a mischievous pose. His golden tooth glinted under his light grin with a similar air of “hey I’m up to no good right now.”
“You look fuckin’ tired!” He barked a laugh, dramatically squeezing his eyes shut in a theatrical show of laughing in your face. It really wasn’t that funny, and you couldn’t stop the frown that touched your lips as you watched him. He took pride in being the way he was. Annoying.
“No thanks to you, Angel,” You clipped back. You turned your head to watch Husk, who was leaning against the wall with his eyes closed. He had become an expert in ignoring the spider demon’s presence, which was how he managed to stay sane with said demon’s constant flirting and sexual nature.
“Anyway,” He waves away your targeted words with a wave of his hands as his eyes roll up. “I was thinkin’ we get outta here for the night? Me and Cherri were gonna have a “girl’s night.”” You briefly thought about the humor in Angel admitting to being ‘one of the girls,’ but pushed the thought away to consider his invitation. “It wouldn’t hurt ta get some fresh air. This place is real stuffy sometimes, and a huge snooze fest,” he persuaded. He rested his face on one pair of hands, fingers laced under his chin, as he leaned against the bartop in anticipation for your answer.
You purse your lips in thought. It wouldn’t hurt, right? You didn’t go out clubbing a lot, and with Angel and Cherri with you surely nothing wrong would happen. They looked out for their friends, and you would (maybe regretfully) consider yourself Angel’s friend. You glanced at Husk for a moment, as if looking for advice, but his eyes remained close and his lips had an annoyed curl. Maybe you should get out of his hair.
“Okay, okay,” You grinned, a little sheepishly. While you couldn’t really consider ‘fresh air’ to be a feature of Hell, you agreed that you needed to just Get Out of this place. Running errands for Charlie got mundane, even with all the strange characters that cycled through the place. One tends to get used to the chaos.
Angel stretched his arms up in a cheer, which earned a one-eyed, aggravated look from Husk. He uttered something under his breath before grabbing a bottle and walking to the other corner.
“Alright, sweet lips,” Angel cooed at you. “Let's get you dressed! You got anything decent up in your closet?”
Your hand found its way to the back of your neck as you answered sheepishly, “Eh, not really… At least, not for a night out. I don’t really do much outside of the Hotel.” Angel frowned at the response, tapping his chin in thought.
“Lemme take a look,” With a swipe of his arm, your hand was suddenly being held as he dragged you up the steps toward the floor of your room.
Walking down at the same time, you briskly passed by Alastor, who had his eyes closed and a hum in his mouth. His blazing red eyes peered open as you and Angel rushed past him, a quizzical furrow in his brow seeing the connection between your hands. You shot him a shy grin and craned your head back to shout a quick ‘I’ll explain in a minute,’ before you disappeared around the bend of the stairs.
You didn’t miss the dark gleam in his eyes.
Angel, in an attempt to dramatically burst through your door, slammed full body into the entrance. “Ah- the hell?” He cried, roughly jiggling the handle.
“I keep it locked,” you snickered at him and the disheveled look in his usually preened hair. You saw him take his hands to brush it out as you fiddled with the lock, an annoyed mutter of words escaping his lips. The second the door clicked, Angel shoved past you and reattempted his dramatic burst through the entrance with a bit more luck this time around.
He went straight for your closer, rummaging through this and that. What a breach of privacy, this guy is, you thought with a strained smile as you stepped up next to him to try to guide him through your very Ordinary and Plain clothes.
You felt a prickling sensation on your skin, and you swear you heard a frequency of low static, but when you whipped your head around nothing stood there. Did that shadow just move?
Shaking your head, you looked at the piece Angel held proudly in his hands, one pair of arms gripping the top and the second pair pulling the bottom out to really get a full inspection.
It was incredibly simple, but still a bit more revealing than anything you were used to wearing. A deep red top, so cropped it may as well be a sporty bra, with a couple eye-catching accents of rhinestones. Connected with thin straps was a similarly tight pair of booty shorts. Your face flushed at the thought of wearing this. It was practically lingerie.
“Isn’t it a bit, uh, tacky?” You tried in an attempt to dissuade him from this getup. He acted offended, one hand going and pressing against his fluffed chest. You didn’t miss the way he took this as an opportunity and pressed up against himself to perk up his mass of chest fur.
“Babe, I wear shit like this all the time! You tellin’ me,” He started a rant, shaking the clothes in a fit of mock rage. “You tellin’ me I’m tacky? Hah! Me! Angel Dust!” He wiped away a fake tear in his laughter.
Your face flushed again looking at the getup. With a defeated mutter you swiped it from his hands and trekked painfully slowly to the restroom. You ignored Angel’s urgency for you to ‘hurry the hell up’ because it was almost time to get going.
You slowly stripped yourself of your day clothes, gingerly stepping through the tight shorts and tucking your arms through the straps of the top. You didn’t even remember buying this thing, it had been stuffed far in the back of your closet. You couldn’t help the feeling of dread thinking about the other embarrassing things Angel might have seen in there. Though, you doubt anything could phase that guy.
You had to admit, looking at your reflection, that it did accentuate your curves, even if you didn’t have much to begin with. The rhinestone accents glittered in the bathroom light, obviously designed in a way to bring attention to the chest. The straps that connect the two pieces fit snugly against your exposed torso. You were suddenly glad Hell never got that cold.
“Almost ready!” You snapped at Angel calling from the other side of the door. You quickly threw on some touches of makeup, trying your best to compliment the shades of your outfit and adding some glittery makeup around your eyes. You quickly dragged your fingers through your hair to style it comfortably.
You ripped open your door just as fists started banging on it. Angel stood there with two arms raised, stopped midair to keep himself from decking you in the head. You glared up at him, trying to maintain your earlier sourness to hide the fact that the outfit had grown on you.
“Hey, sexy lady!” Angel teasingly leaned himself against the doorframe with a smirk. “Let’s fuckin’ go! You took too damn long! Cherri hates waitin’.”
Grabbing your hand again, he ushered you out of the room. As you raced down the stairs, you tried to continuously preen your hair to keep it from flying out of shape as Angel practically drug you down each step.
He slowed at the bottom, releasing your hand, and stepping towards Husk’s bar to aggravate and flirt with the cat one last time before heading out. You tuned out his sexual innuendoes as you tried to glance over yourself one last time.
“My, what a dame you are!” Alastor’s recognizably radio-afflicted voice ripped your attention away from picking at a loose rhinestone. He stood over you, a slight bend in his waist and an unnatural crane in his neck. His smile was there, but tight and uneasily wide as he examined you through squinted eyes. He leaned his weight against his cane.
Swallowing your unease, you examined his expression. You knew Alastor didn’t care for such… promiscuous outfits. Especially on what he considered his. You knew his compliment was satirical, and you didn’t miss that glint of anger flash through his expression.
“Heyy, Al,” You drew out your words, unintentionally accentuating the awkward tone between the two of you. He paid no mind, keeping up that seemingly cheerful grin of his as he just… stared at you. His fingers tapped impatiently on the radio of his cane, each tap bringing a warp to the frequency that always surrounded him. “I’m going out with Angel tonight. Y’know… to get some air…”
“My dear,” His eyes closed in a laugh and he straightened himself out. “Why would you ever go out there for fresh air? Now, you know those demons would just eat you right up.” A dark sneer infected his smile, lips curling and exposing the line of his black gums.
“‘Ey c’mon, Smiles,” Angel stepped up next to you and lazily threw an arm over your shoulder. You saw that sneer only deepen as Alastor watched the spider get way too close to you. “Give ‘er a break! She’s always runnin’ around doin’ shit for this bum-ass hotel! It makes her… boring!”
You didn’t know whether or not to appreciate Angel both defending and insulting you. You decided to just ignore his comments as you watched Alastor’s expression get darker and more sinister. You felt a cold sweat prickle at your neck as that static-y frequency of his became more prominent and aggressive as his eyes swept over the two of you, lingering on your exposed abdomen with a frustrated twitch in his brow.
“Why, of course!” He suddenly cheered, brandishing his hands to his side in a slight bow. “But…” He stepped towards you, looming over you. You felt that nervous tickle again. His right hand raised and, with a quick motion, a fairly modest jacket materialized around your shoulders. “All better! Wouldn’t want greedy eyes seeing what’s mine!”
How bold, you thought. He was from the ‘30s, though, and very old fashioned. It made sense that immodest wear bothered him. Plus, you looked down at the jacket. It had a similar color scheme, and was light enough to not be too warm. At least it goes with my outfit. How sweet.
You felt a bit giddy at the permission Alastor had given you–not that you needed it. (You did). You’re a grown ass adult. (It doesn’t matter). You shot him a smile of thanks before dashing out the door, meeting Cherri who had been frequently laying on the car horn for you to Hurry the Fuck Up.
Before Angel Dust could follow, a tight grip on one of his wrists stopped him in his tracks. He hissed, yanking his arm but to no avail. Alastor’s grab was like iron, and his nails began to dig into Angel’s skin.
“Hey you fuck, let me go! I gotta get out there before Cherri starts blowin’ this shit up!”
Alastor pulled Angel in closer, a sneer-like grin crossing his expression. There was a maddening look in his glowing red eyes.
“If she comes home with even the smallest scrape,” He said in a low tone, the garble of his radio slightly distorting his voice. “I’m going to make you wish you never came to this Hazbin Hotel.”
Alastor’s grip didn’t yield as Angel tried again in a futile attempt to release himself. He had a nervous laugh in his voice as he tried to act unintimidated by the Radio Demon’s threat.
“Yeah, yeah, whatever, you creepy red fuck,” He gruffed back, “Me an’ Cherri will stick right by her. You don’t gotta worry about nothin’.” Alastor’s expression shifted in an instant, his cheerful grin reappearing. He stood up straight and smiled down at Angel. “Good man! Now, don’t be too long,” He shooed Angel out of the lobby, who was more than glad to get the fuck out of there. He heard a faint ‘I’ll be watching’ from behind as he slammed the car door shut, muttering curses under his breath.
He knew Alastor would send that damn shadow of his to keep a close eye, so why the fuck did Angel have to babysit you in the first place? Plus, you weren’t some weak, naive fool. Whatever. He knew Alastor would take any excuse to cause some entertaining mayhem.
He sighed as he looked at you, who had a nervous but excited grin as Cherri rambled and cursed about something.
Maybe he shouldn’t have invited you out. He knew he was in for a long, stressful night. Good think there would be a bar.
#alastor#alastor x reader#alastor x you#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel x reader#angel dust#ohdeerfully#cursing#fluff#alastor is overprotective
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dating alastor headcannons!
this one’s for all the people requesting some sfw & nsfw headcannons!
[alastor x fem!reader]
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sfw.
⋙ now this guy absofuckinglutely loves singing to you. wether it be just humming or full out song and dance, he loves it.
⋙ al doesn’t let many folk touch him or even get close to doing so but when it comes to you??? be cautious because he’s almost certain not to let you out of his grasp.
⋙ due to his now frequent squabbles with vox he’s moreee uptight than usual. he’d be stalking around the hotel, murmuring something to himself but with a quick glance at you all thoughts of his are forgotten.
⋙ he also loves when you help him out in the kitchen. al would get a little defensive at times when you’d poke at adding something to into his already perfect recipe but he’d let you do it anyway, anything for you. seeing you cook, all domesticated, makes his usually cold heart warm.
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nsfw.
⋙ well getting it on with an overlord can come with its own faults.
⋙ al is very weary when it comes down to you. hurting you is never on his register…. unless you ask for it that is.
⋙ this guy knows how to fucking please i’ll tell you that for certain. with some all knowing eye al just knows where to touch you.
⋙ speaking in the bedroom is unfortunately not one of his strong suits. however, if the overlord is in a frisky enough mood he’s veryyyy fucking vocal.
⋙ degrading, mocking, praising you he does all of it and you absolutely love it.
⋙ being with al comes with all sorts of baggage but you’d never change it for the world.
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#alastor x reader#hazbin hotel#alastor x you#alastor smut#hazbin alastor#hazbin hotel alastor#valentino x reader#lucifer hazbin hotel x reader#vox x reader#lucifer magne x reader
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𝐐𝐮𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 - 𝐀𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫
𝟏𝟖+. 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭.
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 : 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐝𝐬 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐥, 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬. 𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲, 𝐚𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩.
𝐭𝐰 : 𝐝𝐮𝐛𝐜𝐨𝐧, 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐚𝐠𝐞, 𝐲𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫?
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬 : 𝟐.𝟔𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐤
𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 : 𝐚𝐦 𝐈 𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦? 𝐲𝐞𝐬. 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐈 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝? 𝐧𝐨. 𝐡𝐞’𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐈 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭. 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐈 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐟𝐢𝐱𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐚 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫, 𝐈 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐫𝐮𝐧 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐢𝐭. 𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬𝐧’𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐮𝐬𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐈 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐨𝐮𝐭. 𝐢𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐨 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐚 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞. 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐈 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐛𝐞 𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐭𝐲, 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤
𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤𝐬 𝐭𝐨 @/𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝟔𝟔𝟔 𝐚𝐧𝐝 @/𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐨𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐲 𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬, 𝐲’𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧
Bar cleaned…check. Dusting the common rooms…check. Floors swept…check. Activities for tomorrow's exercise laid out for Charlie…check.
The feather at the end of the quill tickles your chin as you double check your worklist for this evening. Your eyes scan all the way down to… Room 304 needs to be cleaned. The last thing on your list.
The clock strikes 2am, a reminder of how late it is, but you don’t mind. You liked to clean, especially at night time. You liked to help, it’s only a plus that this job gives you peace. Doing your duties at night gives you more time with the friends you’ve created at the hotel during the day. And you had to admit it to yourself, you’re really enjoying the hotel now.
Who knew that after a couple months, you’d be a part of this family and can call this place your home, a safe haven even.
Picking up your caddy of cleaning supplies and a broom, you head to your last assignment of the night.
You’re not exactly sure why this room needed to be cleaned today - it doesn’t look half bad. Some dusting here and there along with a good sweep should do it. So, you begin.
“Top to bottom!” Alastors static voice rings through your head. He’s been a great deal of help ever since you’ve been living here, guiding you through cleaning, exercises that Charlie and Vaggie have you do, taking large items from your arms to carry for you and putting things away for you… to think of it, he’s always been around. A hum and smile catches your lips. It’s nice to finally feel important, to have friends by your side.
Thoroughly, you wipe down the desk, the wardrobe, re-fluff the pillows and bedding, clean the mirror and now it’s time for the floors, just like you were taught.
Making a pile of dust in the middle of the room, you begin to sweep underneath the furniture the best you can. However, this bed is ginormous, the broom won’t slide to the places you need them to. Not like you can move the bed on your own anyways, but this job needs to be done. You hate half-assing shit.
Getting down on your hands and knees, you take a look at what's beneath the bed and see a large wadded up dust bunny, right in the center.
Fuck.
The beds high enough off the ground that you could fit right? Just shimmy right under there and grab it. Then you’ll be done for the night.
Laying your belly flat on the floor, you wiggle your way underneath the bed, stretching your arm outward to grab the dust bunny- just a little closer-
You slide yourself inch by inch until your right sleeve snags on the spring.
“Oh shoot-” You mumble, trying to pull your arm out of the spring, but it’s useless. You try to slide backwards out from underneath the bed, but it's got you in its hold. Removing your shirt is useless too as it's a button up, and it’s tight fitting- the fabric is thick, you can’t rip it for the life of you.
You grunt, wiggling your legs to try to free yourself to no avail. This is hopeless. You tug and twist, trying all the angles you can to let yourself free.
You’re so occupied that you don't even notice the figure standing at the doorway, ears at attention, head cocked to the side dressed in a cheshire grin that only grows as he watches you struggle.
“Ah! What do we have here? I thought I heard something.” That familiar radio voice fills the room and has you stilling.
“Oh, Alastor, thank god you’re here. I’m stuck, my sleeve is caught on somet-”
“My dear, I do see that you’re in quite the predicament.”
Quite the predicament indeed.
“Yes, can you help me? I can’t move much,” you say, voice muffled under the bed. Tugging your arm roughly against the metal.
“It would be my pleasure, darling.” He hums, “Just relax, dear, or you’ll ruin your uniform if you keep doing that. Although, you could use sewing lessons.”
You still again, not wanting to rip your shirt.
His cane taps the floor before the wooden door to the room softly shuts with a click.
“No need to worry, I’m here to help, my dear. Though you were making such a ruckus I thought something more serious happened to you.”
The radio demon drags his gaze from your shoes, up your legs, the bottom of your skirt and then up to your waist, where the top half of your body is underneath the bed.
“You’re not usually up this late.” He comments.
“Was just trying to clean this room, it was the last thing on my list,” you slump, forehead resting on your free arm.
Alastor’s ear twitches. “Well, let me help you get out of here so you can rest your pretty little head in bed.”
You sign in relief, expecting the demon to snap his fingers to free you in an instant. But nothing comes.
You wait a few more seconds, “Alastor?”
He doesn’t give a response.
“Did you leave? I really don’t want to be stuck here all nig-”
A foot kicks your right foot wide, then your left. Embarrassment creeps up your neck and you're quick to shut your legs together before your skirt exposes you. You hear a thud behind you and in the next second, hands wrapping around your ankles to force your legs open again.
“I don’t need to help you, dear. I could leave you here all night or even a week,” Alastor’s claws glide up your leg, and with a quick movement, your tights rip as your calf. “Do as I instruct.”
“You’re sure this will h-”
He tugs roughly at your ankles again, jerking you back as your sleeve pulls at your arm even more now. “Do as I instruct. I won’t repeat myself again.” The static in his voice roars for a moment.
So you go limp. You’re at the complete mercy of the radio demon.
Alastors eyes are dark and completely fixated on your body. He lifts a brow, “What a pleasure tonight to see you so helpless. Is that what you feel right now?” He cocks his head to the side, “hopeless and unable to move, my dear? Does it scare you? It seems dark under there.”
His knuckles skim your legs clad with sheer tights, up and up until he reaches the bottom on your skirt, now exposing just a peek of your ass. Alastors smile wrinkles, exposing his gums. He’s absolutely delighted with the treat you gave him tonight.
His fingers gently lift the skirt over your ass, exposing your panties.
“Red? Oh dear, that’s my favorite color! Did you wear these just for me tonight? Darling, I’m flattered.”
“Alastor-” you gasp. Was he toying with you? Does he think this is funny? The tangy taste of mortification swells in your throat. You’re too afraid to move, you just pray he doesn’t hurt you. Everything about this is surprising you, he’s never acted out of sorts before.
Your thoughts are silenced as Alastor rips a hole in the tights between your legs, and with a flick of his clawed pinky, your panties are torn in half as well.
“Wait,” you whisper.
The air in the room bites at your now exposed cunt, making you shutter. Your legs twitch, begging to be closed, but Alastor drags a knuckle against your slick opening. He ignores your soft plea.
“Everyone is sound asleep right now, I think it’s safe to say that you’re lucky I came to your rescue! What would you do if I wasn't so devoted to this hotel?” He coos, body hovering over your legs.
To your surprise, a finger traces soft little circles at your bundle of nerves. Despite how uncomfortable the position you’re in right now, your body is responding so well to Alastor. It’s confusing. It’s a complete shock, you never thought your friend who’s helped you this whole time-
He hums as you ever-so-slightly grind your hips to the movements he's making at your clit. Pleasure washes over your body, giving into him. You don’t know if it’s out of fear or out of pleasure. You’re melting into him, despite what your brain thinks.
“You’d be, well,” his finger plunges deep into your pussy, “stuck! Ha ha!” He laughs as you gasp out loud by the intrusion.
His finger curls inside you, taking small but deep pumps inside you. You feel another finger knocking against your clit with every thrust. He takes his time at first, one hand gripping the flesh at the back of your thigh, as the other slowly quickens his pace to assault your cunt.
“A beautiful sight.” He hums.
You buck into him, following his movement, as you cover your mouth with your arm. The room echoes with the sound of your wetness clicking. With every movement he makes on you, you're terrified of making the slightest noise, not knowing how he’d handle you then.
“Hm, you’re too quiet down there, my dear. Am I not making you feel good?” He removes his finger from you painfully quick, making you feel empty in an instant. Unsure of what he wants, you open your mouth to begin answering him until a slick finger forces its way into your mouth.
“This stays uncovered, you hear me? I need every person in this hotel to hear you break.” He taps the inside of your cheek. “Suck.”
Your lips suck your own juices off his finger, making a mess of yourself as spit covers his hand that covers the rest of your face. Pulling his finger out of your mouth, he finds real estate under your hip, guiding your waist so your ass is up and fully exposed to him.
Alastor’s ears twitch before they lay flat against his head. He doesn’t make haste unbuckling his belt and taking himself out of his pants as he’s completely fixated upon your glistening cunt. He exposes himself just enough to free his cock. Patience is a virtue, but he needs you- now.
“I’m going to fucking breed you.” His voice glitches loud in your ears even though he’s not under here with you. Giving himself one-two-three pumps, his other hand snakes under to your belly, keeping you in this exposed position for him. Just for him.
In one quick thrust, his entire cock fills you to the brim. He’s stretched you in an instant, and you gasp for air. The muggy, dusty air underneath this bed fills your lungs. With the way Alastor’s hands never leave your body causes a fire under your skin makes you hazy. Every second, every pinch, grab and knead, his hands are there, burning into you, never giving you a break.
Your face feels flushed and your body is melting. It’s getting difficult to breathe. Every part of your body wants to split apart and Alastor doesn’t take a second to let you adjust. Reeling his hips back slowly only to thrust inside you again.
“Hmph- oh god-” You whimper for the first time. And this is absolute music to Alastor’s ears- once he hears you whimpering, his claws dig into the flesh of your ass.
“Who knew that you’d be the perfect toy for me? You’re fitting me so well!”
Moans slip past your lip as his thrusts pick up to a pace that’s painfully deep now, fucking into you faster and faster. Your slick makes it so easy to slide his cock in and out, all the way out to the tip and plunging to the hilt. It drives him haywire.
“Seeing you at the mercy of me is such a pleasure. And you can’t do anything! Ha ha!”
The knot in your belly tightens. Your walls clamp down onto his cock and as if Alastor knows, his hand snakes down to your clit.
“This right here feels better when I do this, yes?” His eyes burn into your back and you feel it without even seeing him. You give him a whimper of a yes.
His fingers are firm and circle around your nerves with a fast rhythm. Your mouth slacks open as your eyebrows furrow.
The smile on Alastors face grows wider as his antlers protrude out of his head. His body grows bigger, taking half of his demon form and using that strength to thrust violently into you. His eyes are mesmerized at the way your skin jiggles with every pump of his cock.
Your moans grow louder for him, “Alastor, please,” you beg.
As if he knew what you needed, his fingers pressed against your clit more, his body towering over the lower half of your form, “Give yourself to me, cum.”
With that, the tightness in your belly releases with a flash of white blurring your visions. You repeat his name like a mantra, unable to say anything else, hips unintentionally grinding into him as you ride out your high. Alastor continues to fuck you through your orgasm, but he needs more.
“Such a lovely, good girl you are. Now-” With one quick movement, Alaster pulls you roughly backwards, with no resistance from the spring at all now. He must’ve removed it…
Your face drags along the floor and you’re quickly turned on your back.
“No time for comfortability now darling, I’m going to fill you right here.” He places a chaste kiss on your forehead. You drag your gaze up to the demon, whose eyes are blown wide. His snarl is unhinged as he looks down at you. Antlers almost as wide as this room now tower over your form. With a growl, Alastor presses your knees to your chest as he swiftly plunges his cock back into you. Your face lolls to the side, but you keep his stare through wet, thick lashes.
“That look on your face brings me such pleasure, sweet girl.”
His clawed hand wraps around your jaw, forcing eye contact as his thrusts are becoming sloppy.
“I’m going to breed you so deep,” he promises, “that imps all the way in the Sloth Ring will smell me on you.” Smoke engulfs the room. Alastor’s eyes hold that promise and glow.
“Who owns you?” He glitches, voice so deep it rumbles the hotel.
He gives a sharp thrust as the grip on your jaw tightens- a warning.
“Y-you, Alastor! Yours, ‘m all yours.” You babble through blurry eyes, your body experiencing euphoria all because of him. The demon's shadow crawl up the wall behind him, exposing sharp teeth and hollow eyes.
“Mine.” He growls.
With both hands shooting down and bruising your waist, Alastor thrusts one last time to the hilt and fills you up. His cock pulses deep inside you kissing your cervix, cum painfully filling you up before oozing down along his shaft.
After a moment, he pulls out to admire his work. His eyes burn into your pussy as cum drips out of your cunt and pools on the floor.
“Stunning.” He hums. His fingers come up to pull apart your pussy, watching every drop of cum spill out of you.
“You look ravishing, dear.” Alastor moves over you, hands gently clasping around your head. You return his stare. His eyes are back to normal now with no antlers to be seen.
“I’m afraid that once I’ve had a taste, I cannot stop.” His thumb traces your jaw. “Good thing you belong to me now, darling.”
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Alastor X Reader Headcanons
✅️Romantic
❌️Platonic
TW: Extreme Fluff!! Sweet Intimacy!!! A little canon cannibalism
Description: Different ways Alastor likes to be pampered by Wifey!Reader
When it comes to his wifey...Alastor is super spoiled and he knows it, craves it like nothing ever before
He's a glutton for your attention and everyone knows it
Every little act of kindness, every drop of affection and loving gaze just melts over his (shriveled black)heart like a sugary glaze
Mmmmmm glazed hearts
Great now he's hungry
ANYWAYS-
Even the normal everyday things make him feel warm and fuzzy inside
Like when you bring him his favorite tea in the mornings, giving him a soft kiss on the side of his face as you drape your arms around him
"Mm...good morning my dear..."
Or when you smooth over an unruly hair for him or fix his bow tie before he leaves the hotel
You can't have your snookums going out looking like some scruffy strawberry clown
You always make sure his staff is clean and polished, suit flawless and pressed, shoes shiny before he has an overlord meeting
You're NOT going to let your pookie bear hang around the other overlords with smudged shoes
Just. No.
Loves the days that you drag him off to the bathroom to coax him into a hot bath
"You've been so tense lately... let me take care of you..."
How can he say no to you?
He just relaxes and closes his eyes, letting your gentle fingers massage his scalp as you lather shampoo in his hair
The candles and bubbles 🫧 were a good touch too 👌
He almost always falls asleep by the time you're done massaging and cleaning him up, once you start scrubbing under his nails then he's OUT LIKE A LIGHT
Not that you mind, he's so attractive when he's sleeping
WAIT HUSBAND DON'T DROWN
Wakes up to an empty bathtub and a warm towel being wrapped around him by his delicious boo
You're so good to him how did you know he needed this
Always finds himself in a better mood after that, like his problems have all been washed and scrubbed away by your gentle pampering
He secretly loves it when you come by his radio tower with a fresh lunch, interrupting his set just because he needs to eat
Though he pretends it's a big hassle
He savors the food you bring him either way, walking you to the door afterwards and thanking you for thinking of him
Bby boy that's all you do is think about him
He locks the door on your way out tho
Alastor loves the way you convince him to come to bed with you, knowing he needs to sleep but also armed with the knowledge that he'll fight bedtime like a child
You leaning on the doorway already in your sleep attire, giving him a soft pout as he tries to continue his work and ignore you
"Alastor..."
Not his ears flicking up at the sound of your voice
When whining doesn't work, then you slink your way over to him, cupping his cheek and forcing him to look at you
He's trying so hard not to though, the moment he looks at your face then he knows he's done for
"Look at me, darling~"
Okay maybe just a quick glance-
Alastor you are a strong man, you are cruel and sadistic and you are an overlord with very important business!! You can handle telling your wife no-
Ffffffffuck.
Not the gooey goo goo doe eyes
Immediately leans into your touch, savoring the feeling of your fingers stroking his cheek
Not his tail fluttering
"Come to bed already~ I can't sleep without you, you know..."
And that's how you convince him to get to sleep every single night, a full 8 hours or whatever is recommended in Hell
Getting out of bed is hard for him because you look so delectable asleep and curled into him
Maybe he should take more time to pamper you too
But he's a selfish, greedy man who likes being spoiled by his wife so that thought is gone as fast as it came
He gets out of bed just to watch you whine and blindly reach out for him, so adorably pathetic
Okay just five more minutes of snuggles then I gotta go-
If he's cranky then you manage to convince him to nap, patting your lap and stroking his hair once he lays his head down
Your soft singing lulls him into a light sleep as you scratch and rub the ends of his ears
Wakes up drooling
Wakes up with his face buried in your stomach, arms locked around your waist as he sleepily breathes in your scent
How is he supposed to get any work done with you around????
Alastor loves all those things but his favorite way that you spoil him?? His number one fave?? That he would never admit to anyone??
When you give him your special smile, the one that's always been his to see and his alone
The smile that conveys enough warmth and love to make all of Hell seem like Heaven, at least for him anyways
The same smile that he first saw when you told him that you loved him, the same smile that tells him you still love him
You spoil him
Alastor thinking of his wife:
#alastor hazbin hotel x reader#alastor hazbin x reader#hazbin hotel x reader#alastor x reader#alastor being whipped!! yes#wifey being whipped!!! yes#the deer himself getting spoiled??#yes#does he deserve it???#...no...
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↳˗ˏˋAlastor x Wife!Readerˊˎ˗ ↴
☒ Summary: Lucifer gets a little too brazen with Alastor's darling wife. Guess the Ruler of Hell would just have to learn a lesson about who you belong to.
☒ Warnings: fem!reader, she/her pronouns used, jealous!alastor, soft comforting shower sex, knotting, alastor has a tail, consent, making out, soft kisses, biting, marking kink, alstor laps up the readers blood because he bites a liiiitle too hard, creampie, banter between alastor and lucifer, as well as banter between the reader and angel
☒ Word Count: 1,972
Alastor was quite the jealous type.
You were his wife in life and death. To say he was protective of you was an understatement. So, it only made sense that Alastor would lose his composure when the ruler of hell himself arrived at the Hazbin Hotel.
Lucifer was a rather charming man, but you were spoken for. So when he grasped your hand and placed a chaste kiss on the back of your palm, your hand yanked away in the blink of an eye. You could have sworn you heard a crackling growl escape your husband's lips as he watched Lucifer offer you a lustful gaze- and that was simply unacceptable.
"I see you've met my wife!" Alastor let out a forced chuckle as he looped his arm around your waist, pulling you close to his side. You let out a sigh of relief. All thanks to your husband's rescue. Lucifer gave Alastor a pointed look before he blurted out, "You're joking... right?" He scoffed.
Your face scrunched up in anger at Lucifer's rude remark. "Oh, he's as serious as a heart attack." You spat, snaking your own arm around Alastor's back. You squeezed his waist, a habit of yours that let your dear husband know when you were livid.
"But- look at you! You're gorgeous, sweetheart, and he's just... freaky." You were about to snap back before your husband's maniacal laughter tore through the room. "Ha Ha! That's rich coming from the short stack!" Alastor quipped, grip tensing around your waist. Lucifer's chest puffed up in defense before he let out an airy laugh.
"Aha! The height I lack up here, I surely make up for below the belt! Maybe I can show your wife sometime." Lucifer shot you a playful wink, causing your face to scrunch up in disgust. Alastor tensed beside you before he let out another forced laugh, ducking low to get in Lucifer's face. "Ha Ha! Fuck you." Your husband spat, voice missing its usual radio static tone.
Before the situation could escalate further, Charlie intervened. Pushing her father away from the tense atmosphere while mouthing a sympathetic "Sorry!" your way. The aura in the room was stiff. You could certainly cut the tension with a butter knife. "Damn, smiles! Looks like lil' Luci himself has got eyes for your girl!" Angel stated before taking a swig of his cocktail.
You turned your head in Angel's direction. Shooting him a warning glare. The last thing you wanted was for Angel to get caught in the crossfire of your husband's anger. Alastor remained quiet before he slowly began walking toward the staircase. You could tell he was seething with how his ears twitched atop his head. Your husband flickered up the steps without a word, making you worry.
"Damn it, Angel! You knew he was pissed enough as is, no need to poke the bear!" You sighed, rubbing your temples as you made your way over to the bar. Husk poured you a drink, shaking his head in agreement. "Dont'cha mean poke the deer?" Angel chuckled, patting your back in a lighthearted manner. Husk cursed under his breath at Angel's remark.
"Cut that shit out, or he'll put you on his next fuckin' broadcast," Husk grumbled, cleaning a glass with a worn-down rag. You sipped your drink before rubbing your temples once more, shaking your head in annoyance. "I should probably go check in on him..." You spoke to yourself before turning on your heel, waving a small goodbye to your two good buddies.
"She's in for a loooong night!" Angel giggled, causing Husk to flick his forehead as a warning to "Shut the fuck up."
You took a breath before carefully opening your shared bedroom door. "Darling?" You called out, descending further into the space as you scanned the room for your husband. You peacefully made steps toward your private bathroom, having heard the shower running from beyond the door. To your luck, the door was left unlocked, making it easy for you to slip inside.
The bathroom was full of steam as your eyes trailed to the red tufts of hair reflecting through the clear glass shower door. Alastor heard you come in, but he still remained silent. Trying his best to cool off. He hated losing his composure more than anything. Carefully, you began ridding yourself of your garments, leaving your clothes in a pile beside Alastor's. You slid the glass door open, stepping into the shower with your husband.
Alastor's ears were pinned against his head as he stood underneath the shower head, allowing the water to cascade down his face. His back was toward you. Your husband's hands were placed in front of him on the cold tiles. Keeping him stabilized. "Al, my love? Is it alright if I touch you?" You whispered softly from where you stood behind him. A moment passed before he nodded in agreement, still remaining silent.
Slowly, you wrapped your arms around him. Allowing your hands to caress his midsection all the way up his chest. You rested your head in between his shoulder blades, pressing your chest flush against his back. Alastor let out a deep sigh, your touch bringing him much-needed comfort. "That impudent man.." Your husband muttered, ears twitching in annoyance as he did so. You rubbed circles into his chest, placing gentle kisses against his back.
"He's a jerk, Al. I'm all yours, forever and always," Your lips curled into a smile toward the end of your sentence as you felt his tail wagging, brushing against your lower tummy. Your husband's shoulders eased up from your words. He let out a breath before turning on his heel. Alastor's hands immediately cupped your face, doubling over to capture your lips with his. Your eyes fluttered shut, hands rubbing your husband's sides lovingly as your mouths molded perfectly against one another.
Your shared embrace lasted a few beats longer before your husband pulled back, half-lidded crimson eyes gazing down at you. "Indeedy, my doe. You're all mine! I suppose I'll have to make it evident to the short stack... and anyone else who dares to court you." His voice dipped low; as did his wandering hands. Alastor's pointed nails dug into the back of your thighs as he hoisted you up. On instinct, your legs wrapped around his slender waist.
A pleasant gasp escaped you as you felt your husband's hard length brush against your core. Alastor let out a deep growl against the nape of your neck as he nipped at the sensitive flesh there. "Alastor..." You whined. Tipping your head back so your husband could have better access. A shiver ran down your spine when your back collided with the cool tile walls. Alastor bit a little too harshly between the juncture of your throat and shoulder.
A bit of blood trickled down your collarbone, but your husband was quick to lap it up. A deep groan from him sent a rush of heat down to your core. "Divine, my little doe. Absolutely delectable," Alastor mumbled against your sternum before one of his hands slipped between your bodies. He rubbed the flushed tip of his cock between your folds, groaning at the feeling of your slick. "May I, my darling?" Alastor whispered, lips ghosting over yours as he waited patiently for your approval.
"Yes, please..." You sighed, burying your hands into his soaked two-toned locks. Your husband slowly pushed himself past the tight ring of your pussy. Capturing your lips at the same time, drinking up all of your moans as he stretched you open. Your eyes rolled back into your head when Alastor bottomed out inside you. Slowly, you caressed his sensitive ears. Pride pooled in your chest when your husband twitched wildly inside you from the gesture.
Your lips pulled back from his when Alastor began thrusting into you. His movements were sharp but shallow, not wanting to pull back more than he had to from the warmth of your pussy. Your husband's head fell forward, forehead resting flush against your shoulder. Alastor groaned against your damp skin as your walls clenched tightly around his throbbing cock. All you could do was moan in pleasure as your husband fucked into you perfectly.
"Mine, all mine..." Alastor huffed out before suckling at the base of your neck. You could feel your husband's knot begin to swell inside you as your own release approached rapidly. Apsentmindly, Alastor's thumb dipped between your bodies. He rubbed at your clit expertly as he jackhammered up into you. Your legs tightened around his waist as the coil within your tummy was only moments from snapping. "I'm yours, all yours..."
Your words sent Alastor over the edge. He moaned loudly into your neck as his hips stilled, emptying his load deep inside you. The feeling of your husband cumming inside you was enough to trigger your own orgasm. Alastor hissed as he felt your pussy gush around his cock, squeezing him like a vise. After a few moments, you felt Alastor's knot begin to deflate. Allowing his now softening cock to slip out of your inviting heat. "You truly are just darling. How did I get so lucky?" Alastor chuckled as he lifted his head to gaze into your eyes.
A bashful smile crossed your features as Alastor slowly lowered your thighs from off his waist. Being sure to hold your hips, stabilizing your trembling legs. "Oh, hush! I'm the lucky one." You giggled, untangling your hands from his hair. Allowing your palms to cup his face, pulling him down for a chaste kiss. Alastor kept his eyes open as you kissed, admiring your lovely visage. After a moment, you pulled back, nuzzling your nose into his. "Now, let's get washed up before heading back out there, yeah?"
Alastor and you emerged from the room a little while later. Meeting up with the group from where they gathered in the foyer. Charlie cheerfully waved you and your husband over, and you didn't miss the way Lucifer scowled at Alastor. "We were wondering where you lovebirds wandered off to," Vaggie stated, scooting over on the couch to allow you both to sit. Swiftly, Alastor sat on the sofa before pulling you into his lap. A smile etched into your face as your husband's arms looped around your frame, large palms caressing the tops of your thighs.
You heard Lucifer grumble under his breath from the public display of affection. Your friends, on the other hand, had their jaws on the floor. Alastor rarely showed his physical admiration toward you in front of them. So, to say they were shocked was an understatement. "Told ya they snuck away to fuck! Look at her neck, haha- Husk! You owe me that hundred bucks," Angel blurted out. Laughing his ass off. Heat rushed to your face from your friend's crass words. Alastor, on the other hand, glared at Lucifer. His smile stretched from ear to ear as the ruler of hell fumed.
"Angel-! Husk-?! You made a bet on whether or not Alastor and I would... ah, you fuckers!" Embarrassment flooded your entire being, hands darting up to cover your face. Alastor let out a loud chuckle from your adorable reaction. "No, toots. We're not the fuckers! You're the one who got fucked, aha!" You quickly got up from your spot atop Alastor's lap, storming over to Angel. "Husk, you're next!" You shouted, chasing Angel around the lobby. "Leave me out of this! That dumbass wouldn't shut up until I accepted the bet." Husk grumbled, not entertaining the bullshit.
All the while, Alastor was giving Lucifer a sharp look with that shit-eating grin still illuminating his features. "As you can see, there's no need for you to show my wife your little chum below the belt. My darling is more than satisfied in my care!"
#hazbin alastor#hazbin hotel#alastor#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel x you#hazbin hotel smut#alastor smut#alastor x you#alastor x reader#hazbin hotel alastor
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Hello! I'm not sure if you'll be interested in writing something like this, but if your requests are open (and if you're interested), would you be willing to write some fluffy stuff? An Alastor x Shy/anxious reader, perhaps?
hello!! i'd love to write some alastor comfort fics based off shy/anxious readers but for now here's some good ol' fluff for the soul ♡ (with a mentioned quieter/shy reader)
⋆。゚☁︎。⋆。 ゚☾ ゚。⋆
You can always tell when Alastor's smiles are forced.
It's the subtle twitch of his eye, the annoyed little glare he'll stare into empty space with, the way his jaw gets so taut you're afraid it'll snap.
Quiet and observant, you've made it your personal duty to learn Alastor inside and out without stepping on his toes—watching how he grows increasingly annoyed with every brazen sex joke beat into his head from a distance but never actually having the nerves to talk to him.
You think you can read all his little tells by now. How his antlers get a little bigger with every huff of indignation. How his mind is never in the room (he's got a lot of souls screaming in his ears, after all. You learned that, too).
You thought you knew him just by watching, but you were wrong. Dead wrong. Alastor is an enigma, truly one of the great mysteries of Hell. You were foolish to think you could understand even half of him.
He's all bared fangs and glowing eyes right now, a hand squeezing your hip and the other tracing down your face. Waltz music faintly fills the lobby of the hotel where you both stand, but it feels like a million miles away when the static from the Radio Demon is sizzling in your ears.
His smile is impossibly relaxed, not an ounce of irritation in his expression that you've gotten so used to seeing all over his face. You can't comprehend this, can't understand why he's looking at you so softly and cradling your face with so much care.
It's bad enough that he had asked you to dance with him in the first place, and that you'd squeaked out a "yes" before considering the implications of that. He knew you were shyer than the rest of your friends here—perhaps he had been suspicious of you and wanted to get a closer look.
A dreadful chill runs up your spine and you shudder pathetically, eyes screwing shut as you await whatever fate will befall you in the hands of an Overlord.
But your judgement never comes.
Instead, his thumbs gently pull at your cheeks in opposite directions. When your eyes fly back open, you're face-to-face with nothing but warmth.
"You should smile more," he tells you without his usual facade of excitement. "It's wonderful."
You just stare at each other for a long moment, both frozen in place with his hands all over your face and you limply staying in his hold.
Oh no. Oh no no no. You're certain your cheeks are hot as magma right now because of some simple flattery. Then again, you've been watching him from afar for long enough to know that he doesn't flatter just anyone.
You jerk away from him with a nervous cough, but he catches your wrist and pulls you back into his chest. As if nothing had even happened, he guides and strings you along in a waltz once more.
Annoyance, anger, sadistic joy—these are all things that come as easy as breathing to Alastor. But this is a new emotion you're witnessing, with his ears pulled back flat against his head and his eyes avoiding yours even as he dances with you.
It makes you sputter in laughter, head tilting back as you giggle at how embarrassed he seems.
"Thank you."
He softens at this, smile genuine. You'll come to know this side of him, too. You're sure of it.
You don't know why you were ever so afraid of this monster. Not when he's automatically reaching out to trace your smile with his thumb as if it's something he's always wanted to do.
(It is.)
#aroace alastor who doesn't know how to approach feeling connected to someone#🍓 faye's thoughts <3#alastor#alastor x reader#hazbin alastor#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin x reader#alastor fanfic#alastor fanfiction
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Alastor X Reader Headcanons
✅️Romantic
❌️Platonic
TW: Fluff, Romantic Tension, Slight Jealousy
Description: Alastor loves to dance but with you especially
Alastor is a fantastic dancer, you could ask any of his dance partners and they would all agree
Mimzy, Rosie, Charlie...ect Lucifer
But they would also agree that there is a certain amount of...polite distance when it comes to dancing with him
No real connection, just as if Alastor is going through the motions of the dance
Your own dance partners could say the same of you, that you know the moves, you play the part well. You may even be having fun with them but it's not exactly intimate
Alastor could watch you dance all day, loves watching you move, but at the same time he kinda hates seeing you dance with others
Heaven forbid if you dance with Lucifer(That mf totally would ask you to dance if it meant pissing Alastor off)
He just doesn't trust anyone else or their intentions with you, he's not jealous
Jealousy implies that he's scared of losing you to someone else and that would never happen
But your friend doesn't have to have their hand so close to your rump
But dancing together is different for you and him
When you and Alastor dance together, no matter the style, you two always dance as if you're the only two people in the room
Gazes locked with each other, bodies pressed close, movements fluid and united as one
😭 you two are a work of art on the dance floor
Honestly, sometimes your audience feels a little uncomfortable watching the two of you, even if the dance isn't a steamy one, something about it feels a little voyeuristic
Not that you two even notice, too in the moment with each other to even pay attention to anyone else
He's playful when dancing with you too, switching up the rhythms, changing the dance, pulling little stunts to fluster you
Oops! He almost tripped you and now you're caught in his arms, hugging his neck for dear life. Gosh, he's so clumsy sometimes 😌
Bastard
Not you retaliating by saucing up the dance a little, giving little kisses under his chin, hooking a leg around his waist
Bitch
You two have fun little ways of asking each other to dance that totally don't make others uncomfortable
Alastor simply steals you away from your current dance partner, giving them a not so gentle bump and taking their place like nothing happened
You running a coy finger along his jaw and beckoning him out to the dance floor as you pass by
Not his ears fluttering about excitedly, tail wagging
He already always looks smug but when he dances with you he looks like the cat that got the cream
Not him showing off with/for you in front of everyone
Once he's got you then nobody else is allowed to be your dance partner for the rest of the night, not that you mind
He will scare off anybody who even tries to cut in, if fear mongering doesn't work then a random tentacle will simply toss the offender away
He never even looks away from you while he does it
🙄 "Alastor-" "I'm not sorry." 😏
If someone wants to dance with him then all you have to do is grip him a little tighter and lay you head on him, his attention will never leave you
Not him straight up ignoring them
You two honestly sometimes dance all night, not even noticing when everyone is gone and the music stops
The only thing that changes is that you two become softer together, swaying together as you lean on him, arms lazily looped around his neck. His chin resting on your head, hugging your waist softly.
You two are just too fucking cute
The dances always end with a kiss 💋 before reluctantly pulling apart, Alastor wearing a stupidly soft look on his face that he would later deny
Alastor loves to dance but he fucking loves dancing with you
Alastor when someone tries to dance with his wife:
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*escapes from homework* I finally have some time!
Alastor X Reader Small Oneshot
Warnings? ⚠
⚠ alcohol, cuddles, kisses(implied make out) ⚠
Drunk In Love🥂
You didn't drink alcohol all that often, only a bit during special occasions, but most of the time you were sober.
Alastor was the one who drank more, but it wasn't bothering in the slightest. He would only drink what he could handle, and when he was comfortable enough he'd drink till he was tipsy.
It didn't happen often but you were always nearby when it did.
Today was a normal one, nothing really happened in the hotel. It was its usual lack of guest, so the Princess called an early day.
Now you and the Radio Demon were back home, relaxing in the living room, Alastor sitting nearby the cellarette bar with a drink in his hand. You were on the couch, reading the encyclopedia of herbs that you managed to find deep in the library.
Too transfixed with the book, you didn't notice that the man in red had finished most of the bottle.
"Darling?", he called out, the glass in his hand making a sound as he set it down on top of the cellarette.
"Hm?", you hummed, not looking up from the book.
"Darliiiing~"
Now that's odd. You thought taking in the tone of his voice and looked up from your book, finding the deer demon's smile widen once you were looking at him.
"Come here my darling~", he holds out a hand for you, head tilted to the side a bit with a slight blush on his face. "I want to hold you."
He's..drunk? You close your book before slowly setting it down. No, almost there but not quite.
Standing up, you made your way over to him. Taking his outstretched hand, letting him guide you to sit down on his lap. He wraps his arms around your waist and nuzzles his face into your neck. To get comfortable, you wrap an arm around his neck and rest the other on his chest.
"J’aime sentir ton corps contre le mien."
( I love feeling your body against mine. )
A blush forms on your face and you avert your eyes. "How much did you drink?", you ask, looking over at the bottle.
"Not too much.", he sighs out.
You shiver when feeling his breath on your neck. Holding your breath when feeling him smirk against your skin.
"Tu es si mignonne." (You're so adorable.)
"I'm not.", you mumble, earning a chuckle from him.
"You are.", he replies before kissing your neck.
Feeling your heart skip a beat as he kisses up your neck, you move the hand on his shoulder to the back of his head, encouraging him to continue.
"Mon amour." (My love.)
Kiss, on the pulse of your neck.
"Ma vie." (My life.)
Kiss, on the underside of your jaw.
"Mon cœur." (My heart.)
Kiss, behind your ear.
The smell from the alcohol was starting to get to you, but you really wanted a kiss.
"Alastor.", you pulled back, looking at his flushed face as he slowly blinked at you. "Please kiss me already."
"Of course.", he says and leans in.
Reciprocating the kiss, all is forgotten about the alcohol. It felt like you two were the only demons in Hell.
Maybe...you could get a little drunk.
In love, that is.
*gets dragged back into the depths of assignments* LET ME KNOW IF MY TRANSLATIONS ARE WRONG!!!
~Seline, the person.
Taglist@
@c4rved-pumpk1n @willowaudreykeyes @stolas-thebirb @kiraisastay @scary-noodlesblog @ducky-died-inside @naelys-the-aster @biromanticboba @+?
ML for Alastor🎙
#alastor#alastor hazbin hotel#hazbin alastor#hazbin hotel alastor#x reader#alastor the radio demon#gn reader#fanfic#the radio demon#alastor x reader
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Yandere Platonic Alastor x Victim Reader
You got killed by him when you both were alive, because you accidentally ended up witnessing him burying a body. Unknowingly, because neither of you recognized each other in Hell, you both became friends... Now the memories are returning.
TW: Death, Murder, Cannibalism (again, this is Alastor), Fear and Anxiety, Invasion of Privacy/Personal Space, Stalking, Manipulation, Yandere Behavior (Upped to more than usual, for Alastor)
• You remember how you died relatively well. Back in the 1920s, you decided to go on a nighttime walk in the woods... well, more like heavily wooded swamps of New Orleans, only to stumble across a man burying a body in the ground. You panicked, which alerted him, and you got shot. That's the gist of it. You don't know who did it, you don't know why he killed that person he was burying, but you have always vowed revenge on the person who did it.
• However, you decided to try to redeem yourself, still. You entered the Hazbin Hotel, being led in by an excited Charlie, only to then be met with Alastor. You recognized his voice as one you heard on a radio show, when you were alive... and when you asked, he confirmed your suspicions that it was him who was the host! You were surprised, and although you never met him in life, you were comforted by at least having someone from your time period here.
• And as such, you mostly stuck by him. Although you wouldn't call him a friend. It was more like he was a familiar presence for you. Sure, he was the Radio Demon, but he hadn't shown any hostility towards you. So, in your opinion, there was no need for concern or fear. He never seems to mind, either. The most he does is stare at you or ask why you spend so much time with him, and you always be truthful.
• In truth, although he doesn't want to admit it, he enjoys your company. Alastor views you as a sort of lost soul who needs guidance... and by that, it means he wants to take your soul. You seem a bit naive to his true nature, so you'd be relatively easy to trick, yeah? You may not be strong or a good tool to use, but keeping you on a leash would be nice, in his opinion. It's not everyday he finds someone from not only his time period, but his area! You're like a little rare gem, who brings him nostalgia.
• He's proven wrong, however, as you deny his offer for a deal. So, he was proven wrong. You're smart enough to deny his offer for a deal... Which, although he is irritated, he has to applaud you for. You're smart, and he loves smart people! It beats the idiotic brawn he often interprets many of the inhabitants of Hell to be run by, which he despises. So, although he never gets to own your lovely soul, he earns more respect for you as a person rather than just a nostalgic memory from the past. Seeing people less as people, such as viewing them as tools or objects for his own enjoyment, is a problem he has... One that you've gotten past due to being a bit more intelligent than some of the other sinners, and gained his respect as a person.
• The more time you spend together, the more you two become friends... Sure, it takes a long time, but it eventually happens. You find him to have his own sort of charm underneath the eerie exterior, and he sees you as someone at the hotel who really understands him and where he comes from. Sure, Mimzy is also someone who he sees similarly since they were friends in life, but she is rarely at the Hazbin Hotel, if ever. You're a guest of the establishment, though, so he can hang around with you more often.
• Though... you are beginning to have... memories coming back. Alastor sounds a bit like the man who killed you, so you have been thinking about your killer. It's been becoming distressing, because you are worried about meeting him in Hell. Sure, you want revenge, but you are not a very strong demon. There's about a 50/50 chance he might be stronger than you. It's gotten to the point where you decide to confide in Charlie about it. She decides that, the next day, she'd have everyone do art therapy with the task of drawing their greatest stressor. Of course, with your permission, of course...
• So, you alongside the other residents start the next day making art while eating breakfast. You all are not exactly sure who is going to be participating in the sharing process Charlie wants to try out, but you know you sure as Hell won't. You only plan to share it with Charlie... and maybe Alastor. You're not sure, yet.
• You doodle what you remember your killer looking like, the body he was burying, alongside the area you died in. Then, once you're done, you bring it over to Charlie. She seems a little disheartened, as if upset that the situation still impacts you to this day, but supportive. Then, she suggests that you could show it to Alastor. Maybe he will recognize him? And, if anybody could protect you if you do meet your killer in Hell, it'd be him. To be honest, you didn't even think of the fact that Alastor might recognize him!
• Now excitedly, you go to find Alastor. You notice that he also seems to be participating in the workshop. It is probably the first time you've seen him participate in one, but you always suspected he'd join in on one that involves drawing, since he had mentioned enjoying doodling things from time to time. You don't peek at it, considering the challenge is to draw what stresses you, but from the brief glimpse you get you see a bunch of chains.
• "Alastor! Hi! Charlie recommended I show you my drawing, in case you can help me... would you be willing to take a look?" He looks over to you, grinning widely. His first few thoughts are about how he can use whatever problem you have to try, once again, to sucker a deal from you. So, he nods his head rather quickly. "Of course, dear! Anything for a friend."
• You show him your picture, explaining that it's the man who killed you... only for his face to suddenly go pale. He's grinning, like always, but you can tell something is wrong. "Alastor? You okay?" For a few moments, he's quiet, before he snaps out of it. "Ah, yes, dear! I'm fine! The man is um... familiar to me. I just need to try to remember who he is... I'll let you know if I remember."
• He may sound calm, but inside, he's panicking. It's him. It's him. He killed you. He remembers who you were, too, considering the scenery. That, and you decided to keep your name. You were the one victim he didn't plan to kill. The only one that he felt a little remorse for, since you didn't fit the criteria of his usual victims. He killed based off of his weird morals, so killing someone who he usually wouldn't have hit him a bit. So much so, even in Hell, his mind wandered to you from time to time... Now, you're here, and you don't recognize him.
• By a little remorse, he means much more than he'd like to admit. He may be the cruel, sadistic Radio Demon, but back when he was human he still had a bit more care for others. That, and in Hell, it's a lot easier to find people who fit his murderous criteria he had when he was alive. So, although he doesn't go by that code as much in Hell, he still believes you didn't deserve it. You just were in the wrong place at the wrong time, and he couldn't let a witness live.
• Meanwhile, you're completely oblivious to his internal panic. All you're noticing is that, as the days go by, he's keeping a closer and closer eye on you. While you would usually go and seek him out, now, you don't need to! It's his turn to do the seeking! Though, it is odd how he seems to know where you are all the time... That, and he's been knocking on your door the second after you wake up, almost like he's some sort of psychic, or something!
• Now, while Alastor is usually more obsessive and possessive when it comes to relationships, to the point where one may say he's a yandere by default... When Alastor actually is a yandere? You're screwed. Those behaviors are upped to the max. There's no escaping him.
• He's spying on you, yes. He normally would. Now, though, it's almost constantly. From your room, to the store, to the park, to anywhere else you go. He's a lot more obvious about it, too. He'd normally let you have other friends, but in this case, you're not allowed. Well, you are, but he will actively try to get you to not trust them. What if they're your killer? The only exception would be the others at the Hazbin Hotel, since he wants you to stay there. If you're too scared, you might leave, and it'd make it harder to find you to stalk you.
• He's also going to try to make deals with you much more often, now. Little ones at first, though, that don't involve your soul. If he gets you this, you have to get him that. If he does this, you need to do that. Small things, to slowly build you up to the big deal he plans to have you agree to. Like a frog in boiling water. You throw it into hot water it'll jump out, but if you slowly turn up the heat, it'll stay put until the end. You probably don't even notice the deals increasing in intensity.
• And so, when he approaches you with a deal one day, you aren't surprised. However, he knows this one is too good to pass up! Or, at least, it sounds too good until you agree. "Dear, I've figured out who your killer is! Though, I want to make a deal. I'll tell you who it is and make sure you're safe, and in return, you give me your soul. Now, before you disagree, think about it. If I have your soul, I can protect you much easier, as I'll be more connected to you. That, and they can't steal it from you and hurt you more than if they did have it. So, is it a deal?" He's made his points... and you're now so used to intense deals, that you agree to it, despite your unease. Giving up your soul is a big thing, but he's your friend, hasn't hurt you, and from what it sounds like... he wouldn't hurt you once he has your soul. It's to protect you, yeah?
• Once you do, shaking his hand to seal the deal, he immediately lets you in on his secret. His grip moves from your hand to your wrist, his grin wide as he speaks calmly. "Do not panic, dear. I did it. I killed you, because you saw something you shouldn't have." And with that, all his true colors are revealed. He admits to everything, from the stalking, to the obsessions, and to his true reason for wanting your soul: to keep you close.
• You, for one, are terrified. Your worst fear is realized. Your killer is stronger than you - a literal overlord- and now owns your soul. Your leash is much tighter and shorter than Husk's, too. You're constantly being dragged around by him. He shows you off, as if you are some sort of trophy. He probably brings you everywhere he goes, even to Cannibal Town and meetings, so you aren't out of his sight.
• If you try to get away from him, he will literally drag you back. Then, he's going to be holding onto your shoulder tightly for the next few hours. It's his passive aggressive way of saying "I'm not afraid to hurt you", without actually saying anything... As if you getting dragged by a chain wrapped around your throat wasn't enough to prove it.
• You are, in your own way, treated a bit better than Husk. That is, as long as you actually go along with his insanity. If you act good, he'll treat you to food- no, not the raw meat and demon flesh he eats. Foods that you actually like. He'll make sure you have the best room in the hotel. He'll even, begrudgingly, let you have a television. If you aren't so nice, though, he'll basically take away everything. The food you eat will be what he eats, you're probably going to be in his room so he can keep an eye on you, and there will be no technology allowed other than radio and things that came before it. The most you'll get is to be allowed to sleep in his bed, while he sleeps on one of the chairs in his room (that is, if he doesn't stay up all night to watch you).
• Charlie probably isn't aware of any of this. The most she might notice is that you two are hanging out more often, and that Alastor was your killer. However, she truly believes he can be redeemed, especially since your murder wasn't something he wanted. So, she won't question it, and believes a lot of the things Alastor says to explain your odd behavior. "They're a bit nervous, still, but we're working it all out." "They've been staying in my room because the prefer it there." "They got rid of their phone because they realized they were getting a bit addicted to social media." Whenever you try to say anything, though, you feel a slight tug on your chain, which keeps you quiet about it. Stupid deal...
• You aren't going anywhere. He's doing all of this with the goal of making it all up for you, in his own twisted way. Especially since he's now learned that you are the exact opposite of the type of person he would kill. If you act good, you'll see! He'll give you mostly everything you want. He'll shower you in apologies for your death, give you gifts, and maybe let you have some alone time... He just gets a little more than frustrated when you try to leave... Please, he's been waiting for this opportunity for years, so just let him apologize for killing you... Even if his apology lasts for all of eternity.
#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel alastor#hazbin alastor#alastor hazbin hotel#alastor the radio demon#alastor#hazbin hotel x reader#alastor x reader#platonic yandere#platonic headcanons
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Could you do maybe Alastor having you sit on his lap for a while only to then start bouncing his leg and forcing you to basically hump his thigh to get off? He’s so hot istg
a/n: gnawing at the bars of my enclosure over this. got carried away 😭 this is not proof read whatsoever lol.
REQUESTS OPEN 🩷
tags: 18+ smut, semi-public/public, slight degradation, thigh humping
alastor was never one for PDA, or at least he thought so. Until he met you, and was enamored with your every move, every touch. he didn't much care for sharing you, but little miss princess of hell was on a tangent of making the hotel inhabitants spend "quality bonding time" together at least once a month.
so here you all sit for a movie night, everyone paired off in their own comfy corner while some silly movie played on the old tv projector. alastor hated these events for multiple reasons, but he at least was able to enjoy having you sit snug on his lap. he doesn't even realize he's doing it at first, but he's been bouncing his leg for the last several minutes, and it's been slowly driving you mad.
the friction has you letting out a shudder, your loose pajama shorts not doing much to prevent your pussy from feeling every slide of his thigh. this finally catches alastor's attention, his hands snaking around your waist to anchor you in place. "what's the matter? not comfortable, love?" he mocks, keeping his voice faint so the others don't hear. his leg bounces with more purpose now and you're forced to put your hand over your own mouth.
you shake your head to answer his question but when you try to remove yourself from his lap, his grip around your waist tightens almost painfully. you're sure there's a wet spot on your shorts, threatening to spread to alastor's pants as well, especially when you feel his claws digging ever so slightly into the soft flesh of your stomach. "stay." he grumbles, watching the way your hips twitch with every slow drag of his thigh.
"naughty thing, you are. in front of our friends?" his breath tickles your ear while you nervously glance around the room. no one seems to notice you're about thirty seconds from cumming all over alastor's lap, but the thought of anyone knowing was working you up even further. you can't help it, your body moving on it's own as it seeks out the sweet friction of alastor's warmth beneath you. "t-touch me, please." you manage, finding your orgasm would come faster if he'd just slip his hand in between your thighs.
alastor has to muffle his laugh as to not alert the others. "no can do, darling." his hips meet yours, and you let out a small gasp when you feel his cock pressing stiffly against your ass. all you'd have to do it pull your shorts to the side and he'd be in you already. "needy little whores can get themselves off if they so desire." the growl in his voice is almost enough to push you over the edge on it's own, but the way he forces your hips forward and back on his bouncing thigh certainly helps.
with each drag, your core tightens. the familiar heat pools low in your gut. and when your orgasm finally rolls through you, alastor clamps a hand over your mouth while the other continues pulling your hips into his. your whole body shakes, eyes rolling into the back of your head as alastor pulls your back flush against his chest. your heaving breaths are a dead giveaway, along with the bright red flush to your cheeks. luckily, everyone seems to be happily involed with the movie and none the wiser to your dirty little secret.
alastor releases his grip and watches you sink into his chest. his cock pressed painfully into your back still, and its taking all of your willpower not to impale yourself on it. and honestly? if no one heard any of that, would they hear anything if you slipped it in? it was too tempting not to try. "a-al please." you whisper, biting your bottom lip. "n-need you still." alastor always said he was a man of strong resolve, but you were his biggest weak spot.
with a soft sigh, alastor wiggles a hand between your bodies and releases his cock from his own pajamas while you pull your shorts to the side. with another glance around the oblivious room, you finally feel that slow, delicious slide of alastor's cock filling you so deep as you sit yourself down. his hands find your hips once more, holding you down with ease.
"don't you dare move a muscle, you hear me darling? you're getting more than you deserve right now. be good, maybe you'll get to have my seed filling you." you clench around him, earning a sharp intake of breath and his nails to dig into you once more. you nod in understanding and try to put your attention back onto the screen, but the feeling of alastor's cock pressed so snug and deep inside your cunt has you seeing stars.
once he's seen that you do intend to listen, he sneaks a hand down the front of your shorts and toys with your still sensitive clit. it's enough to have your whole body shivering, shaking in his lap as you fight off the desire to moan out his name. you grind your hips this time, unable to stop your body from seeking more pleasure.
its only a matter of a few more minutes before alastor's has you coming undone in his lap, your second orgasm not quite as strong but still enough that you bite your lip hard enough to bleed so you don't scream. alastor's follows soon behind you, your tight walls milking out every drop of cum into the deepest parts of you. it's intoxicating, you physically feel dizzy as you come back to your senses and realize alastor really just came in you while in front of all your friends.
in a panic, you want to scramble off of his lap but alastor holds you to him. "you want to run off with my cum dripping out of you? sit. we'll handle this later." the cold sound of his voice post orgasm makes you almost whine. he always sounds so hot after cumming, like the lust takes over his voice and just-
"oh! you guys are out of popcorn! i will be right back." charlie's voice pulls you from your erotic daydream and back into the world of- holy shit you just had sex in front of everyone-
alastor chuckles. "why thank you charlie! such a kind and considerate host. maybe bring us a... salty little treat as well." he winks to the princess, who just smiles and trots off for more snacks.
meanwhile, you're ready to die of embarrassment.
#alastor x reader smut#hazbin hotel smut#hazbin hotel alastor#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel imagines#hazbin alastor#alastor hazbin hotel#alastor x you#alastor smut#hazbin hotel alastor smut
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"Sing to Me?"
Alastor x Reader (QP)
Yawning, you trudged out of the bathroom, drying your hair loosely with a towel. You were warm from your shower and the filling meal you'd had a little while earlier. Alastor was probably the best chef you knew, a fact you were extremely proud of. Even if your preferred form of protein was banned from the hotel premises, Alastor was always able to make do with what he had.
Despite it being late at night, you grabbed your laptop (a very rare, not VoxTech one) to work on some paperwork. You'd promised your boss to get these spreadsheets done, and you weren't one to shirk on your promises. Yawning again, you tuned your old-fashioned radio before settling down with your laptop. The radio had been a gift from Alastor. Many late nights had been spent listening to his broadcasts. They'd always been a comfort, even before you'd signed a contract with him.
Some light jazz filtered through the static, one of your favorite songs. Alastor knew you were listening. Smiling lightly, you started typing away.
The music was occasionally interrupted by a bloodcurdling scream or a sharp whimper. Your smile never left, humming along while Alastor had his fun. Part of you was vaguely aware that the radio show was now being broadcast all throughout Hell, that you didn't even need the radio, but you liked it, so it stayed on.
The spreadsheets were simple enough. With the radio in the background, you were able to focus just enough that the job came naturally. In the back of your mind, you started going over the next day’s schedule.
You'd ended up zoning out while you typed, not even noticing how the radio switched to static and then turned off by itself.
A single knock preceded Alastor's entrance, enough to break you from your thoughts. You were quick to notice the faint blood splatter on the sole of Alastor’s shoes, the only evidence of his previous activities.
“My dear, you know how I abhor those vile machines,” Alastor reprimanded, walking and starting to subconsciously organize your room. A chair was pushed in, a painting adjusted so it was even, the bottom drawer of your dresser lightly closed.
“Yeah, yeah.” You grinned to yourself. “I need it to do my job, Al. Besides, do you have any idea how hard it is to find a piece of electronic equipment that's not created by VoxTech?”
“All the more reason to get rid of it.” Alastor walked over to the window and stared out at it. He was a little lost in thought himself, it would seem.
Typing a line, you said, “I liked your broadcast.”
“I'm glad.”
He was quiet. Something was wrong. Your grin died down, pushing your laptop to the side. Alastor’s smile was still there, but dimmer. Sadder.
“Al? You okay?”
“Nothing to concern yourself with, dearest,” Alastor replied, a slight edge in his voice.
You wanted to push. To get him to talk to you. But you knew it wouldn't be worth it. If anything, he'd just get upset or shut down more.
“You know, sometimes I wonder what would've happened if we'd met while we were alive,” You said nonchalantly. “I mean, obviously that would've been impossible in the first place, considering I wasn't even born when you died, but I just wonder about it.”
“What a ridiculous thing to wonder about!” Alastor laughed a little. “As you said, it would have been impossible. And why think about being alive when we have all of death to enjoy?” His tone lightened a bit. “There is so much entertainment to be had! Life was quite dull, comparably.”
You wondered for a moment, trying to figure out where to lead the conversation. “Where did you live, when you were alive? You already know where I lived when I was alive, it's only fair I know where you lived.”
Alastor’s grin softened a bit, still sad, but with a hint of happiness in there. Nostalgia, if you had to guess. “New Orleans, Louisiana. I lived there with my mother. I had a delightful job as a radio host.”
“You're still a radio host,” you teased playfully. “What was it like, back then?”
“Ah, it was… entertaining.” He didn't say anything more, lost in thought as he leaned on his cane. You were vaguely aware that you were the only person who ever saw him like this. Alastor wore his smile like armor, guarding himself with a nonchalant facade, but very rarely, behind closed doors, the guard would fall, just for a little while.
Just as you were about to open your mouth to ask another question, Alastor spoke, “You seem quite tired, my dear. Maybe it is time we part ways for the evening.”
Pressing your lips together, you knew he was right. You really should be getting to bed, but you were worried about Alastor. You hadn't seen him like this before, so it was impossible to guess what he'd do once he was alone.
“You really should learn to hide your emotions better.” Alastor turned suddenly, chucking to himself. “There is nothing to worry about, darling. I am perfectly fine.”
“Yeah, you say that, but for some reason I don't believe you.” Stifling a yawn, you gave Alastor a look.
“Now, now, don't be like that.” Alastor came and sat on the edge of the bed, using his magic to set the laptop on top of the dresser. “What can I do to convince you to sleep?”
Leaning back, you thought for a moment. When the idea hit you, your face flushed with embarrassment for a moment, but you swallowed the anxiety. He did ask, after all.
“Sing to me?”
Alastor laughed, causing you to glare. “Again with the ridiculous ideas!” When your face fell subconsciously, Alastor hesitated.
When he didn't say anything, you accepted the fact that it was a ridiculous request. Assuming he'd leave the room on his own accord, you used your magic to turn out the lights as you slid under the covers of your bed. You never did get all those spreadsheets done like you'd wanted.
“Parlez-moi d’amour.”
Alastor’s slightly-static-filled voice was quiet. His eyes faintly glowed in the dark and you watched him with wide eyes.
“Redites-moi des choses tendres.”
Smiling softly, you sank into the bed, closing your eyes and allowing Alastor’s comforting voice to wash over you.
“Votre beau discours /
“Mon cœur n'est pas las de l'entendre /
“Pourvu que toujours /
“Vous répétiez ces mots suprêmes /
“Je vous aime.”
((The song))
#hazbin hotel#alastor#alastor the radio demon#alastor x reader#hazbin hotel fanfiction#plz don't come after me for the french#i just copy/pasted off google t-t#rhys-writes#alastor x reader queerplatonic#yandere
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