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redfoxwritesstuff · 3 days ago

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I love you tooo

Summary: When you caught sight of the handsome man across the bar, your heart was his within seconds. Within days, you were sure it was fate and you were ready to give him everything.

Cw: Virginity, sex, love at first sight, angst

You were always a sucker for the bad boys. You could have anyone you wanted, or at least you thought so. It was always the men your father would throw a fit when you got caught with that you found yourself oh so close to falling into the arms of.

Your Pa would tell you they’re no good for you. They wouldn’t make good husbands. They hardly made good men with their smooth jazz and bootlegged booze. That’s why your Pa did everything he could to keep you from slipping out and it worked, for a while.

At least, until you turned 18. It was harder for him to keep you at home after that. The cops didn’t pick you up when they found you out at night. The clubs were more willing to let you in.

All you wanted was to meet a man who made your heart beat fast. You wanted to meet a bad boy with kind eyes. You wanted to fall in love.

When you saw him, the man with the slightly too dark skin and the hair that fluffed a little too much, you were enamored from the start.

Then he opened his mouth and the smooth transatlantic accent flowed from his lips. You were far too shy to approach the tall man that first night, instead opting to watch him from afar. The burn of the alcohol in the fruity drink you sipped wasn’t enough to distract you from him.

It was near midnight when you noticed the accent slip into something warmer. It gave his words a decidedly southern warmth.

You never thought you’d see him again. Southern men didn’t come up north all that often, after all.

It surprised you when you came into the speakeasy to see him, leaning against the bar again. You were content to watch him, to try to be the good girl your father so badly wanted you to be.

“Miss?” A warm, perfectly practiced transatlantic accent washed over your shoulder, surprising you. “I have a very important question for you, if I may spare a moment of your time?”

“Oh?!”

You nearly spilled the drink in your hand.

He reached out and steadied it for you, not allowing a single drop to slip past the rim of the glass.

“You see, I keep seeing a lovely northern flower watching me from across the room and she’s just the prettiest thing.”

“Is that so?” was all you could think to say as jealousy crashed into your heart.

It was him, the man you were pining for and he was asking you about a woman.

“It is indeedy!” The man’s voice was bright, a smile coloring his words even if you didn’t dare to turn to look at him. “The only thing is I’m a southern gentleman and I’ve not got the faintest idea how to express interest. Would you be a dear and be able to advise a poor old lad on where he should start?”

“I’d say asking the girl her name would be a good place to start,” you said, keeping your eyes glued to the drink in front of you. “And then maybe asking to buy her a drink or for a dance.”

“Ah!,” the man cheered, stepping around to the front of your small table. “In that case, could I be honored with the knowledge of your name?”

“What?” Your eyes snapped up from the drink to the man’s face.

He was beyond handsome. Dark eyes looked out at you from over sharp brows. Though his skin was darker, giving you a suggestion of a complex family history, he looked to you over his sharp and narrow nose.

The structure of his face was best defined as sharp. You thought perhaps if you reached out and touched him wrong, somehow you’d cut yourself on his jaw or cheeks.

It was all more impressive up close. Being close to him like this made it hard to breathe.

“Your name?” he asked again. “If that’s alright? Or do you have someone?”

“No!” You answered quickly before second guessing yourself. “I mean yes, it’s alright. I don’t have anyone.”

“Well,” he laughed and it sounded like music. The sound pulled your name from your lips. “I’m Alastor and darling, it is a pleasure to meet you. Quite a pleasure indeed!”

That was the start of your most magical week. It felt like you were suspended in the clouds. Your heart danced through fields of glittering fireflies, or at least that’s what it felt like when he spun you around the dance floor.

It took less than a week for you to fall hopelessly, irrecoverably in love with Alastor.

There was so much you didn’t know about him. He worked in radio and you knew he was charming. You knew he had a kind smile and a warm laugh. You knew his eyes sparkled when the jazz was just to his liking.

Was it possible to love a man you hardly knew?

Before Alastor, you didn’t think that was the case. After Alastor? You believed in nothing but love at first sight.

And you loved him from the moment you laid eyes on him. It was that love that had you wanting to give him everything.

“What’s on your mind, cher?”

Your heart fluttered whenever he called you that. You didn’t know exactly what it meant, just that it was a pet name. It didn’t matter what it meant, it was a name Alastor used for you.

You spun on your heels, the skirt of your dress and the strings of beads and tassels clattered as you faced Alastor, smile wide as the music from the club faded in the distance.

“I’m not ready to go home,” you said, looking down the street Alastor walked you down most nights in the last week.

It lead to your family home where you’d slip in the back door.

Tonight, you didn’t want to go down that road. You wanted to go down the other road. It lead to the hotel Alastor stayed in. It lead to more time with Alastor.

“Then where do you want to go?”

Alastor caught you around your waist, steading you when you teetered in your heels. His touch was sure, confident and firm.

His touch was also fleeting, as if he didn’t dare hold onto you for long outside. His eyes flicked as he looked around, taking in his surroundings before settling on yours, searching yours for something.

It was magical how his eyes glittered in the lamplight. He was magical. Everything about your time with him was magical.

Meant to be. That’s all you could think of.

When he looked down at you like that, it was hard to breathe. It was hard to think. The words were stuck, lodged in your throat and threatening to choke you. You knew what you wanted, where you wanted to go but how could a proper girl ask that?

“Anywhere,” you said. “Anywhere but here or there,” your eyes flickered down the road that lead to your home before returning to the eyes of the man your heart so suddenly beat for.

“Cher,”

“I… I’m just not ready for this night to end, for my time with you to end.”

You were painfully aware of the fact that in the morning, Alastor would leave and you’d be resigned to wait for him to write you. You’d respond to his letters timely, you already decided that. You would send your own too, of course, and in time you would be together again.

Alastor’s smile wavered ever so slightly. There was longing in his eyes, but also… restraint.

“I don’t think your father would take kindly to finding you missing at such a late hour, cher,” he teased gently, though his thumb brushed the back of your hand in a way that made your heart race.

“Pa doesn’t have to know,” you said, breathless, emboldened by the way his touch lingered. “Is there… I mean… you have a place, don’t you? We could sit, just talk.”

You flushed with the truth of what you wanted to say sitting heavy in your chest, making it hard to breathe.

Alastor’s hand fell away, as if to distance himself from temptation. His voice was low, uncertain. “My hotel isn’t… proper. It wouldn’t be right, bringing a sweet girl like you there.”

“Please, Alastor,” you said, your voice trembling with both nerves and anticipation. “I trust you.”

“That’s a terrible choice, really,” Alastor said with a soft smile. “If you’re certain, alright. We’ll talk.”

You fidgeted with the beads on your dress as you sat on Alastor’s bed, unsure how to begin what you wanted. He stood by the desk, flipping through pages of loose paper.

“What is it you wanted by coming here?” Alastor asked when the silence ticked on longer than his patience.

“T-to talk,” you stuttered out the words.

His warm chuckle wrapped around you before he stepped up to you, closing the distance. The warm smile he wore pulled a tighter as he bent at the waist with his hands clasped behind his back as if he feared touching you, bringing his face closer to yours.

“You didn’t want me to bring you here for us to talk,” Alastor’s lips parted as the smile grew… sharper. His head twitched to the side. Reaching out, he lifted a few stands of your hair only to let it run over his fingers and fall back with the rest. “Now, did you?”

“No.”

The word came out as a whisper, little more than a breath that passed between your lips.

“What is it you want?” Alastor asked again before answering for you. “You want me to kiss you.”

It wasn’t a request. It was a statement. An accusation.

Your throat bobbed as you swallowed thickly. You tried to make the words form, any words at all, but none would come. When the words wouldn’t form, you settled on nodding.

“Have you ever been kissed before?” Alastor asked, his fingers curling and resting under your chin. He pushed up with just enough pressure to ensure you looked up at him, seeing nothing but his eyes. “Truly kissed?”

“Yes?” you said, thinking back to the men you’d kissed, the tentative press of their lips against yours when the no good men finally cornered you and found their morals. “No.”

“Would you like to be?” His voice dipped low, the accent slipping to something warmer.

“yes,” you answered tentatively.

His smile twitched as he inched forward.

You’d kissed men before. Their lips were rough, cracked at places.

It wasn’t that way when Alastor’s lips touched yours. They were soft, smooth. Each press of his lips against yours was firmer, giving you a chance to pull away, to say no more.

You didn’t.

You leaned into him, unsure of what to do as his kisses pressed firmer. Each time his lips left yours, the gap was smaller until eventually his lips moved against yours without leaving.

Your heart thundered in your chest. Each beat felt like a strike against your ribs. Blood rushed through your ears, threatening to drown out the sound of your gasps.

As his lips moved against yours and your head spun as you tried to remember to breathe. You felt like you would topple over as he pushed against you.

You needed to ground yourself somehow. There had to be something you could hold onto. All there was was him.

All there was was him, so you reached out for him. His chest was firm under your hand timid hand.

A startled gasp passed from your lips to his when pressure settled around the small of your back, pushing you toward the man that was quickly starting to crowd your space.

It was his arm, wrapped around you while your eyes were closed.

He swallowed the sound you made, humming to himself as his lips parted. The wet muscle of his tongue slipped out, licking at the seam of your lips before darting inside. It was a soft prodding that repeated, asking for entrance in a language you were struggling to learn.

Your brows knit together as you gathered your courage, spurred on by they reassuring scent of him wrapped around you, to match his movements. His lips twitched, smile shifting as his tongue touched yours, caged between pairs of lips.

His fingers flexed against your side as he held you tight. He guided you back. The bed dipped as his knee came to rest hest to your thighs.

Above the sound of Alastor’s breathing so close to you, the ticking of the old clock in the room was the consistent roar of your blood rushing through your ears.

What started as the soft meeting of tongues between lips changed, leaving you to try to understand the new sensations. His tongue pushed in between your lips, wiggling between your teeth to caress your tongue inside the confines of your mouth.

It was something you would have found frankly laughable if anyone explained the mechanics of this type of kiss to you. Experiencing it? That made you want to do the same to him.

Your tongue chased his as he withdrew from you, crossing between his lips as if you were unwilling to let go of the taste of whiskey and tobacco on his tongue.

You realized as you sighed that your chest was pressed tightly against his, leaving no room for modesty between your bodies. Your hands ran over his shoulders, threading between his hair as you copied the way his ran over you.

“And that,” Alastor said, pulling from your lips. You flushed, feeling a thread of saliva suspended between his lips and yours before it snapped. “Is how a man should kiss a woman, Cher.”

“Is that all?” you asked, pressing the swells of your breasts against him tighter. “Or is there more you can teach me.”

Alastor chuckled. It was a dark, rich sound.

“Do you want something from me?”

“I want your love,” you whispered, flush so hot on your face that you were sure your hair would alight with it.

“My love,” Alastor repeated, eyes locked on you.

It felt like you could drown in the muddy water of his gaze.

"Have you ever been loved by a man? Have you ever laid with anyone at all?”

“No,” you answered honestly, though you feared he would find your inexperience to be distasteful.

Instead, his lips settled on your neck, working down toward your shoulder. His remaining hand came out from behind his back, reaching toward his neck where he loosened the tie.

Once it hung limply, he took your hand and guided your trembling fingers to the buttons of his shirt. Around your fingers, he worked open the first button while he kissed along the front of your throat. He worked his way back up as he guided your hand to the next button.

For a moment, you sat frozen, overwhelmed with sensation as he made his way to your jaw. And then, when you thought you couldn’t follow through with what you wanted, his lips returned to yours.

Your fingers started moving, hands working together to free one button than the next.

The dress around you grew slack. At first, you didn’t understand why. When Alastor’s fingers brushed under the fabric, you realized he was working the buttons down your back free as you worked his.

Without giving you a second to think, he swept the dress off your shoulders, sending the front of it pooling in your lap. He pulled back, holding his weight on the bed with his knee.

You blinked up at him as he pushed his shirt back off his shoulders, letting the suspenders snap down. The tan of his skin continued, unbroken as your eyes chased the lines of lean muscles.

You realized he was appraising you, sitting with your chest covered with little more than a band of silk. You were aware of every way your body differed from the standard, every part of you that was ‘wrong’ according to the styles.

Whatever flaws you found in yourself, Alastor didn’t seem to mind them. He wasted no time tugging the skirt of your dress down, sending it to the ground behind him. In what felt like a blur of heartbeats and gasps, you were in nothing but your knickers and your chest wrap.

There wasn’t time for you to panic before Alastor was kissing you again. He guided your hand to rest on his chest. Never had you touched a man’s chest before. It shocked you to realize you could feel his heart beating under it.

It felt right. He felt right under your hands. It felt right to wrap your arms around his shoulders. It felt right when he guided you back. It felt right to be under him as he laid you back and unhooked the tight band across your breasts, holding them flat.

With the pressure released, you were more aware of the swells of your breasts. They were not in fashion. It was better if they were not as full as they were.

Alastor didn’t seem to mind. He leaned forward, kissing down your chest before placing an open mouthed kiss against the bud of your nipple, letting it slip between his lips where his teeth grazed the sensitive skin.

he kissed your nipple just as he had kissed your lips, starting chaste before moving into timid swipes of his tongue. As your back arched and your breath caught in your throat, his kiss evolved into swirls of his tongue and scrapes of his teeth.

He kissed his way down your stomach as you panted, struggling to get enough air in your lungs as sensations you never imagined before crashed over you. He kissed along the band of your knickers, looking up at you as he did.

“More?” he asked.

“Please?”

He worked the fabric down your thighs, kissing each bit of exposed skin until you laid naked on his bed. It always interested Alastor in seeing the way bodies reacted to different stimulus.

Though Alastor had little interest or desire for sexual intercourse, he did enjoy watching how people responded to the different sensations he could provide. Bodies shivered when he ran finger tips and knife blades over the skin. People moaned and groaned as he pushed inside them. Breath stuttered in throats as he squeezed. Flushes spread over the most interesting places.

Murder and sex wasn’t all that different. Not at the end of the day. He preferred one to the other, that was all.

He wasn’t broken. He could appreciate the way your body flushed as he looked down at you.

Splotches of color covered your thighs, blooming like flowers. It didn’t matter to Alastor if the reason the color bloomed was fear, pain or arousal. Alastor liked the way it colored your skin, spreading up your stomach only to fade just below your ribs.

Your skin was unmarked by the flush along your ribs and under your breasts. Atop them, the color began again, reaching up in sweeping arcs from your nipples up your chest. Lines of it ran up your neck and settled on your cheeks.

Men always painted flushed bodies wrong. They always settled the flush just on the cheeks and that wasn’t how it was. The body wasn’t so discriminate in where it sent blood rushing to the skin’s surface.

“Is everything alright?” you asked, looking up at him. “Is there something wrong with… with me?”

“No,” Alastor said, shaking his head. The soft waves of his hair shifted with the movement, giving way to curl at the roots. “Why would you think there’s something wrong with you?”

“I’ve never…” The words died off.

“Your first time?” Alastor cocked his head to the side as a slow smile cut wider across his face. “I can’t believe I get to have you like this. I don’t deserve you.”

“I should be saying that,” you whispered as he worked open his belt. The clinking of metal was loud in the small room.

“The first time a man gets to know you? That’s a gift.” Alastor’s pants grew slack around his hips as he worked the button free and the fly down. His cock sprang free, slapping his stomach as he fabric that had confined to fell to the ground.

It was dark at the tip, nearly purple. The dark of his tan extended below his waist, running uninterrupted through his pubic area and along the shaft of him. You realized it wasn’t just a tan. That was the color of his skin.

Oh, but you didn’t care.

You were far more concerned with the size of him.

Though you were a virgin, untouched by man, though you’d tried to find your chance, you did read the books girls passed back and forth. You knew the mechanics of sex and making love.

You knew where you were asking Alastor to put that.

“It’s a gift I want to give you,” you said, timidly spreading your thighs.

Alastor’s hands ran up your thighs as he spread them wider, kneeling between them. Each touch ran gooseflesh up your skin. As his hand settled next to your head, he stroked the sensitive folds between your legs with the other.

“I’ve never felt like this before,” you said, spreading your legs wider for him. His strong shoulders grounded you as you wrapped your arms around them.

“It’s only just beginning,” Alastor said and to you, it felt like a promise.

It felt like he was promising you many more days and nights together.

There was a pressure at your slick opening, blunt and insistent.

“Are you sure?” he asked you.

“I’d do anything for you,” you said. “Anything at all.”

Alastor only smiled as he pushed forward, hips descending. His thrust was slow and shallow. The blunt head of his cock breached your opening. It felt sudden.

There was pressure and then it almost felt as if the muscles popped, releasing and spreading, allowing him inside you.

You expected pain. That was what you were always told to expect but his shallow thrusts, moving the tip if him deeper into you only to withdraw until it was just his head inside, didn’t bring pain. It didn’t even sting, not really.

You felt stretched. There was pressure.

No pain.

“Are you alright?” Alastor asked, pushing more of himself inside you with each shallow thrust.

“Y-yes,” you gasped as he reached deeper, the pressure turning pleasant with each thrust. “I’ve never felt this way before. I don’t want it to ever end.”

“We’re only just getting started.”

He was right. There was a lifetime ahead of you where he would be making you feel this way.

You held onto him tighter, breathing heavy as his hips settled against yours. He reached so deep inside you that there was a spark of pain in a place you couldn’t put name to.

Though it hurt, it wasn’t unpleasant.

You found yourself arching your back, rocking your hips into that feeling. The painful press of pleasure spread. It burned in a good way. It burned in a way you wanted to keep feeling.

“Please,” you whimpered, voice wavering as he moved inside you.

“What do you want?” Alastor asked as he rocked his hips against you. It felt like he was stirring your insides with the hot rode of him.

“You’re everything I’ve ever wanted.”You moaned as he finally pulled his length out of you only to start pushing his way back inside you. “Everything.”

Your body rocked as he repeated the motion, thrusting into you. Your breasts bounced with each push of his hips against your core.

His strong hand grabbed your thigh, digging into the meat as he held it against his waist. He pulled your hips, changing the angle until the breathy moans turned throaty and deep and your fingers dug into his arms.

He kept going, hitting that place inside you with all the force he could manage, watching your breasts bounce. Your core tightened around him, walls fluttering around around his member.

“It feels like I’ve known you forever,” you moaned as you tried to pull his face up to look at you, to kiss you, “like I was made for you.”

“You’re close,” Alastor said.

You didn’t know what you were close to but you felt like you were on the edge of something. Whatever it was, he was pushing you closer to it. Pressure built inside you.

“Don’t run from it,” Alastor said, tilting his hips slightly, turning your moans into something that sounded closer to screams.

He loved the sound of screams.

“Fuck,” Alastor groaned under his breath as he turned the pace of his thrusts punishing. Each slam home into your wet cunt was announced with the sharp sound of wet skin meeting and your cries.

When the dam broke and your first orgasm washed over you, it brought forth a scream from your throat that sounded so close to that Alastor heard from men before he ripped a blade through their throat.

Your body clenched tightly around his cock. The tight grip you had on him felt like it would rip him from his body as he pushed through the contractions.

Pain and pleasure mixed as your body gripped him, squeezing him as he swelled and twitched. He chased that mix of sensation, slamming into your quivering, no longer virginal opening as he fell to his elbows.

His head dropped to your shoulder. You could feel his lips against skin. They parted, and then all you felt was the hard press of his teeth, clenched tightly together, against your skin.

He shifted, bringing his fist to his lips. He groaned as pleasure crawled up his spine and down his legs. He clamped his teeth down on the side of his hand, his thumb resting against his chin as he found his release.

The moan was muffled by the flesh and bone between his teeth as his pace stuttered. He slammed his hips against your core with so much pain it hurt. Hot ropes of his seed spilled from his head, painting parts of you that had never been touched before today with the very essence of him.

Your body continued twitching, clenching and begging him for more spurts, sucking what he gave deep inside you.

Under him, you trembled. Tears gathered in your eyes as you clung to him, even as he slipped his softening member out of you.

There was a emptiness inside you felt like a void that would swallow you whole.

Alastor rolled onto his side, sweat glistening on his chest. Without waiting to be invited, you turned and curled into his side. Under your hand, his heart hammered against his ribs.

You counted the black curls of hair that dotted his chest. They were so far and few between that you hadn’t noticed them before but now that you were held naked in his arms? You counted them.

“Are you alright, Cher?” Alastor asked.

“Promise me you won’t leave. Not tonight. Not ever.”

“I have to go,” Alastor said. “I have to return to New Orleans tomorrow.”

“But, I love you.”

“Shh.” Alastor stroked your naked back, a sleep started to encroach on your mind, stealing the last moments of your first night in Alastor’s arms.

That was alright though. It was just the last moments of the first night. There would be other nights.

You loved him.

He loved you… right?

The morning light filtered through the gauzy curtains. The soft caress of the golden rays woke you softly.

You reached out, seeking.

It was the first morning with the man you loved. It was the first morning of many. You just needed to find your way back into his arms.

So, you reached out to him only to find the empty bed. You kept reaching, kept searching as you blinked the sleep from your groggy eyes.

Your searching fingers didn’t find Alastor.

Your searching fingers found a piece of paper.

“What?” Your voice was soft in the empty room.

It was nothing, you were sure of it. Just a note while he went off to get breakfast to share. A romantic surprise to start your first morning together. It would be a note telling you how much he enjoyed your first night together.

Sitting up, you unfolded the paper, flimsy cheap hotel stationary, to find Alastor’s neat penmanship.

Darling,

I never meant for things to go so far. I thought I could enjoy your company, share a dance, a smile, a moment, and leave it at that. But, I see now how deeply you feel, and it would be cruel of me to let you keep imagining there could be more than that for us.

You don’t know me. Not truly. And it’s better that way. I’m not the kind of man you should pin your hopes on. My world isn’t one you belong in, and I won’t drag you into it.

I have no place beside someone as good and bright as you. I have no place beside anyone. Whatever you think I am in this moment, reading these words, I promise, I’m worse.

Remember this for what it was: a passing moment. And let it stay in the past, where it belongs.

Alastor

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redfoxwritesstuff · 3 days ago

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#alastor x reader #hazbin alastor x you #alastor x you

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redfoxwritesstuff · 3 days ago

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An Open Letter to the Governments Enforcing Online Censorship Laws:

I don’t usually get political on here. But I’m angry. And I’m scared.

What’s happening right now in the UK and Australia? It’s not just about "protecting kids" from NSFW content. It’s about control. It’s about censorship disguised as morality. And it terrifies me for what’s coming next because it always comes next.

They say it’s to keep minors safe. But censorship never stops at its first excuse. Give a government an inch, and it swallows miles. That’s not a theory. It’s history. And history doesn’t just repeat. It escalates.

As someone who creates dark, explicit fiction, this feels personal. This is my warning bell. The stories I write, the ones people try to silence aren’t just "fucked up smut." They’re lifelines. They’re therapy. They’re how people process pain, explore the shadows, reclaim power, or just survive another goddamn day. Dark content can be grotesque, yes, but it can also be honest, raw, human. It makes you feel. It makes you face what others ignore. That’s why they’re afraid of it.

And let’s stop pretending this is really about the kids.

If it were, the Epstein files would be public. The names would be prosecuted. Grooming gangs wouldn’t be swept under the rug for political convenience. The child protection system wouldn’t be a funnel of unchecked abuse. If they cared about children, they'd fix what’s broken. But they don’t. Because this was never about children. It’s about sanitizing the internet into a dead, glossy facade that makes governments and corporations feel clean.

What enrages me more than the laws themselves are the people applauding them. The ones nodding along, chanting “think of the children” while blindly handing over their freedoms like it’s some righteous offering. It's cowardice dressed up as virtue.

This doesn’t end with porn bans. It never does. First they silence desire. Then dissent. Then everything else that makes art and freedom, dangerous.

You may not care now. But you will, when it’s your voice they smother next.

TL;dr Reblog this if you believe in freedom of expression. Say nothing and watch it get stripped away.

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