#@whatswrongwithblue | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

redvexillum · 21 days ago

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@nyx91 Here's my take on your prompt, baby! 😘 Also, please check out these awesome writers - @whatswrongwithblue who wrote her prompt HERE and @redfoxwritesstuff version HERE! @inuhalfdemon I'm pretty sure Nyxy sent you this one too. Now, we are all waiting on yoOoooOooOu 👻

TAGS/WARNINGS: f!reader, p in v, gentle s♡x, love making, established relationship, relationship on the rocks, alastor is bad with feelings, hurt/comfort

Your fingers clenched the glass with a force that belied the frustration bubbling beneath the surface. The cool rim pressed against your lips, the burn of the hard liquor a welcome distraction from the storm brewing in your chest.

As the amber whisky slid down your throat, a shudder rolled through you, the heat searing into your veins, but it couldn’t touch the icy rage you felt. Slamming the empty glass onto the bar, the sharp sound echoed in your pounding head. You ground your teeth together, more in irritation than from the sting of the alcohol.

Alastor’s voice, smooth and syrupy, drifted through the air like poison. He was laughing, entertaining the hotel crew with his usual cruel charm – those passive-aggressive jabs cloaked in that ever-present smile. You could barely stand to hear him, let alone look at him, so you kept your eyes fixed on the empty glass before, staring at the last remnants of whisky as your mind spun. Dizzying feelings of anger and the growing buzz of the alcohol swirled around in your head.

Shaking your head, you shoved the glass toward Husk, who regarded you with his typical unimpressed expression. His long red eyebrow arched, but he continued to lazily wipe down the glass in his hand, barely giving you more than a glance.

“You know,” Husk muttered, his voice low and smooth, “you should just talk to him.” The weight of his words hung heavy in the air, though he delivered them with a shrug, as if they held no consequences.

A harsh snort escaped your lips. “’nother one,” you slurred, your voice thick with the effects of the liquor. You could feel the heat of it, spreading through you like wildfire, numbing the ache in your chest just enough to make you feel bold – foolish, but bold.

“Don’t you think you’ve had enough?” Husk asked, though his hands were already moving to grab the bottle of whisky from beneath the counter. He poured two fingers’ worth of the amber liquid, the sound of it hitting the glass like a promise of paradise.

Your lips twisted into a bitter smile. “Nope, still mad as ‘ell,” you muttered, the words ‘nope’ punctuated with a sharp pop of the ‘p.’ Your gaze cut back to his eyes, “So, no, Husk, not nearly enough.”

As your fingers reached for the glass, Husk slid it unreachable with an ease that only irritated you more. “He’s been staring at you all night, you know,” he grumbled, eyes narrowing. “He practically wants you to talk to him.”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes so hard it made your head spine even more. “I’m not giving him the satisfaction.” The defiance in your voice felt hollow, and yet, you clung to it, desperate to keep the walls up between you and Alastor across the room. He didn’t deserve to meet your eyes tonight, or any other night for that matter.

You slumped forward, elbow resting on the bar, your head propped in your head as you levelled a bleary stare at Husk. “What are you supposed to be tonight, anyway? A bartender?” You leaned closer, your body swaying slightly as the alcohol pooled in your system, your blouse straining against your chest as you moved.

Husk sighed, eyes rolling as he muttered, “And you’re drunk.” His tone was flat, but before he could push the drink further away, you snatched it with a triumphant grin, tipping it back with a wink.

The burn of the whisky barely registered anymore; it was nothing compared to the fury simmering under your skin. You could feel it, crackling just under the surface, mixed with the alcohol that made your limbs feel light and your head buzz.

Standing up from the barstool, you leaned in close to Husk, a wicked grin spreading across your lips. “Guess what I’m dressed as?” you whispered, the words dripping with mischief. Without waiting for him to respond, you giggled, “That’s correct! A bar wench!”

Your blouse hung low, teasingly revealing more of your cleavage, but you barely noticed. The tight girdle you wore cinched you in all the right places, but it wasn’t enough to keep the flush of heat spreading over your skin. It felt almost suffocating, the mix of alcohol, anger, and something indescribable all coiling tight inside you.

Husk muttered something unintelligible, but you pressed on, your mind a swirl of emotions too tangled to untangle now. “You’re right, y’know,” you slurred, the words tumbling from your lips without restraint. “I shouldn’t be down. I should help you tonight – I'm already dressed the part.” You patted his shoulder with a grin, your hand lingering as you tried to ground yourself at the moment.

He stared at you, eyes narrowing again, but there was something softer there too. “You’ve known him for over a decade,” Husk said, his voice gentler now, more serious. “You knew exactly what you were getting into when you decided to be with him.”

His words hit you like a punch to the gut, unfortunately sobering you right up. He didn’t have to say Alastor’s name – just the thought of him was enough to make your stomach churn, the bile rising in your throat. You weren’t sure if it was the alcohol, the fury still eating away at you, or the hollow ache of knowing that Husk was right.

It was probably all of it.

Your smile faltered, fading slowly as the memory of last week came back to the forefront of your mind without mercy. Ten years. You had been with Alastor just over a decade, but those years were fractured, seven of them consumed by silence and shadows. He had disappeared without a word, leaving you to wonder, to hurt, to grieve the love you thought you had.

When he returned, it wasn’t the reunion you had once dreamed of. No, instead, you found out that he had traded away his soul for something – something he refused to tell you about. The secret gnawed at you, hollowing out the trust you had clung to for so long.

Your fingers dug into the fabric of your black skirt, the material bunching between your knuckles as your grip tightened. You thought ...God, you thought you meant something to him. Enough for him to confide in you. Enough for him to trust you.

But he didn’t.

He kept you at arm’s length, always. It was like standing on the edge of a cliff, staring into the abyss, never quite knowing if he’d catch you if you fell.

Your breath hitched as your eyes blinked rapidly, fighting back the stinging salt of unshed tears. You had cried for him – cried for him night after night when you couldn’t bear to stay in the same room, couldn’t bear to let him see how deeply he had hurt you. Alastor didn’t deserve any more of your tears. Not after everything.

Taking a shaky breath, you swallowed the lump in your throat and forced a smile, even though your heart felt like it was breaking all over again. “Anyway,” you said, your voice wavering for a split second before you forced it into a false cheer. “Looks like the Halloween party’s going great! But...there are empty cups in people’s hands!” You threw on a laugh, trying to mask the pain that threatened to claw its way to the surface. “As your best bar wench,” you continued with a grin that didn’t quite reach your eyes, “I believe it’s my duty to serve the customers!”

Husk’s eyes lingered on you for a moment, his gaze piercing through your forced cheer like he could see every crack in the facade. He didn’t say anything, but you knew he could read you like a book. Husk always had that way of understanding, even when you tried so desperately to hide behind a smile. Still, he stayed silent, though his look spoke volumes – volumes you weren’t ready to face.

“Well,” he finally said, his tone lightening with a smirk, “I ran out of whisky because someone,” he raised a brow at you, “polished it all off.”

You rolled your eyes, trying to play along, even though your heart wasn’t in it. “There’s more in storage, Husk,” you replied, puffing out your chest in an exaggerated display. “I’ll just go get more! Look at that, I’m not only a gorgeousbar wench, but also a problem solver!” You tried for a grin, but it felt empty, the effort it took to keep up the pretense was exhausting.

Husk chuckled, shaking his head. “Just hope you don’t remember this tomorrow,” he said with a snort, though you could see the concern still lingering in his eyes.

With a heavy sigh, you let out a toneless laugh. “I’m not drunk, just a liltipsy.” The lie tasted bitter on your tongue, but you turned on your heels before he could call you on it. You needed to get away for a moment – away from Husk, away from the party, away from him.

As you made your way to the storage room, you caught sight of Charlie and Vaggie dressed as an angel and a devil, the irony of their roles not lost on you. They looked happy, content in their costumes, and for a brief moment, you felt a pang of envy. They didn’t have to worry about the walls that separated them. They didn’t have to question their place in each other’s lives.

But you didn’t look at Alastor. Not once. You could feel his presence in the room, could almost sense his eyes on you, but you refused to give him the satisfaction. Not tonight.

When you entered the storage room, the dim light from the hallway cast long shadows over the crates stacked along the walls. “Let’s see...” you mumbled to yourself, running your hands along the wooden boxes, searching for the whisky Husk needed. The quiet soothed you, a welcome relief from the noise of the party.

Suddenly, the door creaked shut with a heavy thud, plunging the room into darkness. You whipped around, heart almost leaping out your throat. “What the-?”

Before you could finish, you heard the unmistakable click of the lock sliding into place, sealing you in. Your breath caught, the air thick with tension.

“My, my. Good evening, darling,” came the voice you simultaneously missed and dreaded. Alastor’s voice, rich and smooth, like velvet soaked in poison. It slithered through the darkness, wrapping around you, making your skin prickle with both longing and anger.

You sighed, crossing your arms over your chest, not bothering to turn toward him. “Alastor, I don’t want to play games,” you muttered, the exhaustion in your voice apparent.

He chuckled, the sound low and dark, echoing off the walls. “Alastor? Oh no, my dear,” he purred, amusement lacing his tone. “It’s Captain Alastor tonight.”

With a snap of his fingers, green flames flickered to life, casting an eerie glow around the room. The shadows danced wildly on the walls, but it wasn’t the flames that held your attention. No, it was him. Alastor, dressed in a pirate’s costume, complete with a crimson bandana tied around his head. His jacket was adorned with gold buttons and buckles, his black leather booth shining in the sickly light. He looked every bit the part, but the smile that curled his lips was still the same – a smile that could hide an infinite number of secrets.

He stepped forward, and instinctively, you retreated – one step, then another – until your back met the cold, unforgiving wall. Your heart raced, ever nerve in your body on high alert as Alastor closed the distance between you, his presence overwhelming. His looming figure cast a shadow over you, but you refused to look at him, your gaze darting anywhere but his face.

“What do you want?” you mumbled, the question trembling on your lips. You couldn’t muster the strength to sound defiant, not when his proximity made your breath hitch.

Alastor’s smile widened, that ever-present unsettling grin that never seemed to face. “What I’ve been wanting since you rudely left my bed eight nights ago,” he answered with a playful lilt, his tone too bright, too casual for the tension building between you.

Another step. And another. Until his chest hovered mere inches from you, the heat of his body radiating through his pirate’s costume. You found yourself staring at the third gold button on his jacket, unable to meet his eyes. It felt safer that way – safer than confronting the emotions threatening to spill over.

“Rudely, huh?” you shot back, the alcohol in your bloodstreams emboldened your words, your anger simmering, bubbling up from your chest. “Well, I guess I’m just a rude girl now. So, if you’ll excuse me-”

You tried to slip past him, but instantly, his arms shot up, trapping you between the wall and his body. The sharp intake of your breath was loud in the enclosed space, and your heart hammered against your ribs.

“Look at me, darling,” Alastor’s voice was soft now, coaxing, almost tender, a stark contrast to the playful lilt he’d used moments ago. He leaned in, his breath a warm whisper against your lips, his words sending shivers down your spine. “It’s rude not to look at the person you’re speaking to.”

The tip of his clawed fingers grazed your cheek, feather-light, as though testing the boundaries of your resistance. “Look at me,” he murmured again, his voice a gentle command, his finger caressing your skin like you were something delicate, fragile.

Your body betrayed you. Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was the exhaustion of holding your emotions in for so long, or maybe it was the undeniable pull he had over you – whatever it was, you tilted your head up, finally meeting his gaze.

You wanted to glare at him, to summon all the fury and hurt you felt into one look. But the moment your eyes locked with his, something inside you fractured. Alastor’s grin softened ever so slightly as he gazed down at you, and the intensity of his red eyes stripped you bare.

Thus, the dam that you were so desperate to hold back, broke.

Tears welled in your eyes, stinging as they gathered, and your lips trembled despite your best efforts to hold steady. You had promised yourself you wouldn’t cry for him anymore – he didn’t deserve it, not after everything.

But here you were, standing on the precipice of breaking all over again. The anger you had been clinging to melted away, replaced by an overwhelming, aching sadness. Why did he have to do this to you? Why, after all the betrayal and heartbreak, did your heart still soften the moment you saw him?

“I need to go now, Alastor,” you whispered, your voice barely above a breath, weak and fragile. “Please unlock the door-”

But before you could finish, his lips were on yours, sudden and firm, silencing the rest of your plea. The kiss stole the air from your lungs, igniting the familiar flames of passion within you. His body pressed against yours, enveloping you in a heat that was all too familiar, a warmth you had craved even when you hated yourself for wanting it. One hand cradled your face, the other settled on your hip, grounding you in a way that made your head spin.

You should push him away. You should resist. Every part of your rational mind screamed at you to fight back, to remember the betrayal that had shattered your trust, to remember the anger that fuelled you for days.

But you didn’t.

Tears spilled down your cheeks, hot and unrelenting, as you allowed yourself to sink into the kiss, your body – your heart – betraying your mind. His lips moved against yours, tender and desperate all at once, and you stayed – tethered to him by something stronger than rage.

When he finally pulled back, his breath came in shallow bursts, his forehead resting gently against yours. His thumb brushed away the stray tears on your cheek, a wistful sigh escaping his lips as his eyes searched yours. There was something in his gaze – something vulnerable, something he rarely let you see.

He grinned, but it was softer this time, almost bittersweet. “Now, miss,” he said, his voice filled with mock grandeur, the teasing note returning. “What will you do now that you’re stuck here with a dastardly pirate such as myself?”

The lightness in his tone didn’t match the intensity in his eyes. They bore into yours, searching for something – an answer, perhaps, or maybe forgiveness.

You knew exactly what he was doing. Alastor, for all his bravado and showmanship, didn’t know how to bare himself – didn't know how to peel back those layers of invulnerability. Instead, he hid behind his endless masks, each one more carefully constructed than the last. And tonight, he wore the perfect one for you – the one designed to charm, to coax a smile from your lips even when your heart felt heavy.

Your fingers trembled as they reached up, brushing against his cheek. The smoothness of his skin beneath your fingertips stirred something delicate within you, something raw and aching. Without a word, you threaded your hand into his hair, pulling him down until your lips met his in a kiss so soft it could’ve shattered.

You wondered, in that fleeting moment, if Alastor even realized that he didn’t need to be perfect for you. That his strength wasn’t what made you love him – it was the rare glimpses of vulnerability, the moments when the masks slipped, that captured your heart.

His body softened in your embrace, tension melting away as he pulled you closer, his need for you palpable in the way his hands clutched at your waist. His kiss deepened, urgent now, as though he were trying to communicate all the things he couldn’t bring himself to say. And perhaps you were complicit in this – playing along in his games of pretense, the dance of make-believe you both performed so well. Even now, wrapped in costumes, the charade continued, masking the truth neither of you had the courage to face.

The words that should have been spoken – of hurt, of longing, of the chasm growing between you – were swallowed up in the heat of the moment. Alastor pressed his hips against you, the hardness of him dragging along your core as his hands roamed your body, setting your skin alight. His breath hitched, and soon the room was filled with the rustle of fabric, hurried movements, and the unmistakable clink of his belt being undone. Your skirt was pushed up, your underwear forgotten as it slid down to your ankles.

But then, just as the urgency peaked, he paused. His eyes met yours, the glow of the green flames flickering around you casting half his face in shadow. His expression was unreadable, half hidden by the darkness, yet you could see the question in his gaze – the hesitation that belied the playful swagger he always wore.

You lifted one leg, wrapping it around his waist, pulling him closer as the warmth of his length pressed against your core. Slowly, you moved, the friction between you drawing a soft moan from his lips. His eyes fluttered shut, the pleasure evident on his face as his hands gripped you tighter, his forehead resting against yours.

Darling,” he breathed, his voice no longer playful, no longer teasing. It was soft, almost vulnerable, and the way he held you now – so tightly, as if afraid you might disappear – felt like the truest moment between you in a long time.

Your mind, fogged with alcohol and the haze of lust, seemed to slow the world down around you. Every sensation was amplified – the heat of his body against yours, the way he trembled with each stroke, the way your own heart ached even as your body burned with desire. The initial anger that had driven you to this moment began to melt away, replaced by something deeper – an aching sadness, a profound loneliness that slowly eroded the edges of your soul.

In the silence that followed, neither of you spoke. This act, this intimacy, had become the only place where the two of you could find any semblance of honesty. Here, with his lips pressed to yours, his hands clinging to you like you were his only lifeline, there was no room for masks. It was the one moment where the roles you played for each other dissolved, leaving nothing but raw, unfiltered emotion etched across his face.

And in his face, you saw it.

His red eyes, glowing and intense, were softened by the flickering green flames around you. He kissed you again, slower this time, murmuring soft praises against your lips – telling you how good you felt, how much he needed you, how right this moment was.

But just below the tender words, you could feel the weight of everything left unsaid. The weight of the love you shared, the pain, the misunderstandings – the endless cycle of pushing and pulling, hiding and revealing. And as his body pressed closer to yours, as his lips lingered on your skin, you realized that this, for all its imperfections, was the only truth you and Alastor had left. A truth buried in the way he held you, in the way you couldn’t let him go, even when you knew you probably should.

Slow languid kisses mingled with the heat radiating from his body, his hard length pressing insistently against you, grinding you in a steady rhythm. Each motion sent an addicting pulse of need through you, until the blunt tip of him nudged against your slick folds.

“Darling,” he murmured, the words drenched in need as his lips found yours once more, dragging the kiss out as he slowly sank into your warmth, his voice trembling as he repeated, “my darling.”

The sharp gasp that escaped your lips seemed to be all he needed, a soft moan slipping from you as he fully sheathed himself inside you, stretching you, filling you, pressing against every tender nerve. You clenched around him, your body naturally responding to the feel of him, and he shuddered, his breath quickening as he buried his face in the crook of your neck. There, hidden from your gaze, he could allow himself to be bare, raw, vulnerable – away from the performance, the masks.

His hips rolled in slow, deliberate motions, the wet, intimate sounds of your bodies coming together filling the small, dimly lit space. The hardness of the wooden wall at your back contrasted with the softness of his touch, his hands gripping your hips, your fingers tangling in his hair as you held him close. Each slow thrust was a burst of sensation, your nerves alight with every deep, lingering stroke, every inch of his dragging along your sensitive walls.

“Alastor,” you moaned softly, his name slipping from your lips as if in prayer, and you felt his body tense, his hips pausing mid-thrust. His breath ragged as his red eyes flickered up to meet yours, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you saw him – truly saw him.

The trickery, the menace, the lies – all gone. In its place was something fragile, something real.

Are we still okay?

His eyes, wide and searching, asked the silent question, his gaze never leaving yours.

Do you still love me?

The soft brush of his fingers as they tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear, the tender way he touched you, begged for an answer he couldn’t bring himself to voice.

Will you stay with me?

The kiss he pressed to your lips was slow, pleading, as if asking for more than just the physical – asking you to give him reassurance.

Tears welled in your eyes, not from sadness, but from the weight of it all. Tightening your hold around him, you slowly moved along his length, a moan catching in his throat as you took control, your body guiding his. The motion elicited a sharp hiss from him, the intensity of your choice, your desire, giving him all the permission he needed to abandon his restraint.

His pace quickened, the cold metal buckle of his belt grazing your inner thigh as he began to thrust with more urgency, his hips pistoning into you, driving as deep as his can. The pressure against your swollen clit with his hips sent shocks of pleasure through you.

His breath came in short, ragged gasps as he lost rhythm, the intensity overtaking him, his body seeking yours with increasing desperation. Each thrust drove him deeper, harder, the friction, the closeness pushing you both toward the edge. Your own breath stuttered, your muscles tightening, your abdomen clenching as your release built, the pleasure mounting with every stroke, every brush of his hips against your throbbing core.

Your orgasm hit first, tearing through you with a force that left you breathless, a small cry slipping from your lips as your body trembled in his arms. Your fingers gripped the back of his jacket, holding on as your walls fluttered around him, pulling him deeper into your pleasure.

Alastor’s moan followed, guttural and raw, his hips stuttering to a halt before resuming their slow, deliberate thrusts, each one sending a fresh wave of pleasure through you as he spilled into you, the warmth of his release filing you in hot, pulsing bursts.

He slowed, each thrust dragging out the last moments of bliss, his cock throbbing inside you as he emptied himself completely, your name slipping from his lips in a breathless moan. His arms tightened around you, pulling you close, his forehead pressing against yours as he held you there. His chest rose and fell with the effort of his breathing.

For a long moment, there was only the sound of your shared breaths, mingling in the quiet. No words were spoken, no conversations ventured into the unresolved matters that still hung heavy between you. In this small, stolen moment, it was only the two of you, lost in the aftermath of passion.

You two were held together by something far deeper than the words you could never quite say.

As he slowly withdrew from you, the heat of him still lingering inside, you felt the absence keenly—the slow, sticky glide of his cock slipping free, slick with the evidence of your union. His release, warm and thick, trailed down your thighs in lazy rivulets, a tangible reminder of the intimacy you had just shared. But even as your body still hummed with the aftershocks, there was a heaviness in your chest that clashed with the physical satisfaction.

He gently tilted your chin, his fingers warm yet commanding, urging you to meet his gaze. And when you did, you saw it again—the familiar mask sliding effortlessly back into place.

The trickster’s grin.

“Well, I suppose I must whisk you away to my ship tonight, darling,” he teased, voice playful, yet it didn’t quite reach the depths of his eyes. Leaning down, he kissed you lightly, a fleeting brush of lips, more teasing than tender. “You will warm my bed tonight, right, darling?”

Your head swam, still fogged from the orgasm that left your knees weak, the faint haze of alcohol mixing with the ache of something unsaid. His words were playful, light, but they didn’t settle right in your heart. They rang hollow, echoing against the unspoken truth between you. You opened your mouth, ready to ask the question that ate away at your heart.

How much longer must we play this act, Alastor?

The words formed, heavy and desperate, but they never made it past your lips. Instead, something else took over. The familiar script. The comfort of pretending. You rose onto your toes, closing the space between you, pressing your lips to his in a kiss that tasted too sweet for the bitterness welling inside. It was soft, tender, and yet... it was a kiss laced with unshed tears, a quiet plea neither of you would ever voice.

And as his arms wrapped around you, as his lips moved against yours with practised ease, you felt it—how easy it was for both of you to slip back into your roles. To hide behind the costumes, the masks. His touch was warm, grounding, but the distance between your hearts felt greater than ever.

It seemed you and he still weren’t ready to shed the costumes after all.

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

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safination · 1 month ago

Note

Could you do a one shot of Human!Alastor with a flapper!reader?

Maybe where the reader is getting unwanted attention and Alastor intervenes.

Smoke and Shadows

|Masterlist| Pairings: Alastor x Wife!Reader Warnings: Murder, Alastor being Alastor Thank you to the amazing writer who betaed my fic and gave me my title @whatswrongwithblue. Give Blue all your love! You should definitely check what she writes. Requests are always open. They're just slow

Smoke blows out of your lips, micing with the cold, night air. The cigar flickers. Each puff warms your body, and calms the growing ire. Maybe, Alastor’s tastes aren’t too bad.

There’s a question that nags at you, demanding your attention . . . . No, you won’t do it.

A click of your tongue. Alastor would be annoying about the topic.

Even hinting at the idea of his ‘good’ cigar tastes would receive you a shit-eating grin or a week’s worth of that smug smile of his. You wouldn’t know what would be worse. Knowing Alastor, he would find a way to do both.

The mere thought wavers the settling calmness, and that would waste the effect of a perfectly good cigar.

Tonight’s piano player brims with talent. The sound of their jazzy keys dance with the saxophone. It brings you into this deep, deep, smokey lull. Even when those heavy, metal doors muffle their notes, it spills out into the alley, and forces that smile on your lips.

But . . . it begins how it always begins; with an alley, and a man too absorbed in his own ego.

The door opens with a slam, and that’s quite the talent, indeed. Piano notes flow out louder, it’s sound refusing to be drowned by the fever of the of the other instruments. That smile grows a fraction higher.

A man stumbles to the alley, a hand on the wall and clearly, drunk out of his mind. He rubs his fingers together, and blows his breath to keep them warm.

Smoke and laughter spill out of your lips.

It’s quite the cliché’ isn’t it? Alastor would, surely, find this hilarious – a man, a woman, and an alley.

The man snaps towards you, and that smile of his grows wide. Despite the dim lighting . . . huh, those are soft, blue eyes. They’re nice, but you prefer the warm brown ones for those warm, brown eyes wears the ring that matches yours. (His eyes crinkles when he laughs, and through that smokey haze, you wonder – Are they crinkling right now?)

“Hello, there!” he squeaks out as he rubs his hands together. “I mean, umm . . . Good evening.”

Words spills out of that mouth of his. They carry neither weight nor substance.

So, with a lazy smile, and cold fingers, you enjoy the smoke that flows into your lungs, and tumbles out of your lips. It’s more exciting than whatever he’s saying, that’s for sure. You throw in a couple of, ‘huh . . .’s and a few dashes of, ‘oh, wow’ just for to see how long the conversation can keep going.

Smoke hits his face when he takes a step too close. A single step back, and that’s all you take.

Still, you make a point to show-off how you lean closer to the shadow’s behind. It’s funny, really, how the darkness brewing behind brings this sort of peace that not even the cigar can compete with. (An annoying peace, but still quite peaceful)

The man reaches for your cigar, snatching it right from your fingers.

“Young ladies shouldn’t be smoking these.” He takes a long inhale, then coughs out smoke. There’s a strained smile on his lips as he observes the cigar. Instead of returning a perfectly good cigar, this idiot drops it on the damp ground, and kills the flickering light with his heel.

“Ha!” You smack his bicep in good fun. “Not that young.”

“Hey, you’re looking a few minutes shy from turning into a popsicle,” he tells you, as if the cold isn’t already seeping through your bones. “Why don’t you take my coat? It wouldn’t be right to allow a lady to freeze. You can always return it to me tomorr—”

“You’re taking too long.” You click your tongue towards the shadows behind. “Hutty up. It’s cold, and you’re making me wait too long.”

It’s starts with a soft whistle of a tune. . .

The echoing sounds of footsteps bounce between the brick walls. Each step demands the attention of all. Alastor steps out of the shadows, yet their dark hands still cling to the edges of his form.

There’s a coat folded across his arms. Alastor drapes it around your shoulders, pulling on the lapels from behind to secure it. There it is again, because it’s funny, actually. The wind blows cold between the small alley, yet the cold ebbs away because of the command of such a simple jacket.

Alastor pulls on your shoulders, crashing you towards him with a hearty laugh. It bounces between your bodies, and settles into your bones. (And oh . . . his eyes are crinkling.)

“I apologize, dearest.” Despite the smile, there’s a part of you that doesn’t actually believe he’s sorry. “I was curious to see just how long you were willing to hold out for.” Alastor pokes the edges of your lips upwards to force a smile. “I had quite the laugh!”

Your eyes roll, and settle it towards the man. “He likes to think he’s hilarious.”

“Ha. Ha! Ha!” Alastor’s eye twitches for a moment, and his lips purse together. “I guess humor is something only the few possess now. It’s unfortunate to see it’s decline.”

“Oh, don’t say that, my dear,” you say, pressing a kiss on the edges of his lips with a smile. “I’m sure one day you’ll possess it as well.”

The man clears his throat, and reaches out for a handshake. It’s never given. “You sound familiar,” he says, after a long beat. “I think I’ve heard your voice before.”

“Is he being a bother, dearest?” Alastor leans towards you, and blows straight into your ear. His reward for such an action comes in the form on your elbow digging into his stomach — “oof. That’s not quite the answer I was expecting.”

“We’re all friends here.”

Alastor is smiling that strained smile that only appears when he’s relying on his habit to keep his smile up. “Hush now,” he says, and places a finger across his mouth. “I was talking to the lady.”

Those warm, brown eyes that Alastor own . . . they look at you expectantly.

You consider it for a moment, weighting your options. The real question is whether or not you actually cared about the man enough to be bothered. Notes of smoke and rich leaves linger on your tongue, and damn, that was a really good cigar. Despite that smokey hazy of calmness from the cigar, it’s the peace of Alastor that settles its annoying fingers on your nerves. He won’t release it anytime soon.

“You decide,” are the words you find yourself saying. “I don’t particularly care—Just make it quick.”

The edges of his lips curl just a little bit softer, and you know you did good.

Alastor grabs your wrist, lifting them up in the air with such an irritating flare. Really, it should be considered a talent of his – not anyone can find your last nerves, and tap-dance all over them. He places your palms over your ears. It’s a silent command, and one that you follow without complaint.

Alastor brings a hand over your eyes, and suddenly, darkness is all you’re able to see.

See? It’s a Cliché.

It began with an alley and a man, and it will end with an alley and a man.

Only the shadows listen in on the quickened footsteps. It’s lasting longer than it should, and like all games, it eventually comes to an end. And well, . . . let’s just say Alastor likes ending things with a bang!

Gunfire rings across the wall, and you sink just a little bit deeper into the arms that steady you.

Alastor presses a kiss on your cheek, and suddenly, you’re able to see once more. His body blocks the view of the corpse. There’s a moment there, where you try and lean over, but Alastor pokes the edges of your lips to force a smile. It doesn’t stop until you’re smiling up at him.

“I want to see,” you say, slapping his hands away. “I was the one who lured him out, and I was the one who had to wait in the cold.”

“Now, now.” Alastor plants kiss across your other cheek. “That wasn’t our agreement.”

The edges of his coat slide off your shoulders. It’s the way Alastor grabs the lapels, and secure it around your body once more that prompts the answer, “Fine, but I want to go home now.”

“Give it a moment, dearest. We can’t just leave him here.”

You fling your arms around his back, pulling him into a hug. It’s easier to sneak a look when Alastor sinks straight into your hold, and . . . woah, that’s one killer aim – straight through the head. “It’s really starting to get cold.” You blow into his ear. “So, hurry up. I’ll wait inside.”

Alastor brings your wrist high up into the air, and you have to go on the tips of your toes to stay upright. He slides his fingers across your palm, forcing them to open before intertwining your hands. “So, your ‘help’ only extends on being the bait?”

“I waited in the cold.” You try to pull your hand back, but Alastor’s grip stays firm. “As far as I’m concerned, I already did my ‘helping’.”

One of his hands snake around you, and Alastor lifts you into his hold, settling you against him. “Of course,” he says, catching your free hand to hold it once again. “But, when there’s a body to be dragged, suddenly, your assistance becomes limited.”

You show him your most innocent smile.

Alastor whistles along the tune of the piano. The feather on your head sways along as Alastor dances to the music, twisting to the beats of the notes. If the weight of carrying you in his arm hinders that determination to dance . . . well, no complaints fall off his lips.

“Al,” you begin, and lean into the crook of his neck, “the body.”

“It wouldn’t be right to allow a lady to freeze.”

Your smiled widens, warmth blossoming in your stomach. It spread through your limbs with a tingle and settles into your cheeks. Maybe, just maybe, you would admit to leaning just a little closer. “I can’t wait to go home with you.”

Alastor laughs into the air, bright and airy. So, so, full of delight.

It’s everything to you.

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ustulia · 2 months ago

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⊹ ࣪ ˖ The Archives ˖ ࣪ ⊹

A curation of creators and creations that I highly recommend. Will be continually updated as I get more time to work on it.

18+ content warning

My Works

Processing….

Series that I absolutely adore ♡

Painted Smile, @worldofkuro

Summary: You couldn't wait to meet new friends. What you didn't expect was this smiling little boy, only one year older than you, that would take such a big place in your life.

Taking Care, @valerie-is-in-the-cupboard

Summary: After Alastor comes home injured, you tend to his wounds. Despite his attempts to hide this dark side of him, you eventually learn to accept it.

Zoologist Series, @inuhalfdemon

Summary: Reader has a degree in zoology and is a menus to the residents of the hotel, specifically to Alastor

Caught, @redvexillum

Summary: You wake up in Hell one day with memories holey as swiss cheese. Despite your disadvantaged state, you're determined to challenge Heaven's judgment. But as time ticks on relentlessly, your memories slowly return, and you fight tooth and nail to prevent your faith in redemption from tarnishing.

Until...it does.

If Music Be The Food of Love, @deafsignifcantother

Summary: Reader is a deaf ex-overlord who has shut herself in her home away from society until on of her overlord friends, Alastor, reappears after seven years.

A Misdemeanor of the Heart, @redfoxwritesstuff

Summary: Fading away in an abusive marriage, each day passes just the same as the last. Painful monotony eats at you until a pair of warm brown eyes sparks the idea that you could have something more. When a business deal between men sparks a torrid affair, how long can you keep things going before the fire either leaves you a burnt out shell or burns up everything around you? And what becomes of the radio host who thought he was above the fickle fires of the heart when the match he strikes burns his hand instead? Can he possess what rightfully belongs to another man without leaving everything he has fought for in ashes?

Creators that never disappoint ♡

Writers: @alastor-simp, @fraugwinska, @hazelfoureyes, @klttn, @lurochar, @6esiree, @whatswrongwithblue

Artists: @az-roser, @notherpuppet, @oxavane, @re-unknown, @strawijuice

For more broad recommendations, please use the tags under this post to help navigate through my blog

#ustulia recs #ustulia recs fanart #ustulia writes #ustulia rambles #ustulia hazbin #ustulia helluva #ustulia twst #ustulia obey me #ustulia love and deepspace #ustulia genshin #ustulia recs kpop

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inuhalfdemon · 3 months ago

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Alastor asks Rosie to be his fake girlfriend to convince Lucifer that he is a good boyfriend but it backfires when Rosie critiques his courting abilities. (didn't open the car door, no flowers, etc.)

-CrackRodent

Ok, I feel like I gotta go OOC for this one because my personal headcannon is Alastor would treat Rosie as a fucking QUEEN when or where ever they went out - platonic relationship or otherwise. BUT, for the sake of this prompt:

Alastor had it all figured out.

He had been pining for Lucifer for weeks now...and was ready to make his move.

Not in revealing his "true feelings" or in swallowing his Pride and actually approaching The King with his proposal of "something more".

No, no, no.

That just wasn't his way. He needed The King to come to him.

His way, was studying Lucifer from afar, doing a bit of light stalking and narrowing down the places that The King frequented and when. He did it so dedicatedly that he knew exactly when Lucifer would be passing by the food court, just on the edge of Cannibal Town, on his way to a donut shop named *Duck Donuts...

[Owned and franchised through LuLu World, it became so popular that there are shops found throughout all The Rings]

Alastor knew he had to win not only The King's attention but, his favor. Alastor needed Lucifer to see that he was a desirable partner and to do that he enlisted Rosie's help. Alastor asked her to pretend with him that she was his fake girlfriend, they would go out on a "date" about the food court and Lucifer would see what Alastor had to offer.

It went perfectly. The timing couldn't have been better and Lucifer kept throwing looks their way...sneaking passing glances, double taking over the shoulder once or twice, even openly staring at one point. Alastor watched him walk away, heading into the donut shop and wondered at just how long it would take before The King was throwing himself at The Radio Demon's feet.

"Alastor...THAT WAS THE WORST DATE I COULD HAVE EVER IMAGINED!" Rosie was stewing.

"Huh, what? What do you mean? He couldn't take his eyes off of us the entire time!"

"Because you never once had your eyes on me for a single moment! My God...Where to begin!? No flowers, no hand or arm-holding, not even a peck on the cheek!? You didn't open the car door, you nearly slammed a store door in my face and have you even noticed that I've broken a heel and have been gimping along here beside you now for 20 MINUTES!?" Rosie was telling him loudly, exasperated.

"Come now, it surely wasn't all that ba-"

Alastor stopped what he was saying, seeing that Lucifer was heading straight for him now, carrying a large box of donuts.

This was it.

He hurriedly straightened his suit jacket and smiled widely.

"Why, good afternoon, your majesty. To what do I owe the pleasure of-?"

"Oh, shut it you absolute arse." Lucifer snapped and Alastor's smile tightened.

Lucifer turned to Rosie.

"I know it's none of my business, but you look like you've had a terrible time. I got fresh donuts...and it's been an eon since I've had a Butterfinger McFleshy... would you care to join me?" Lucifer smiled at Rosie, offering her his arm.

Rosie sniffed, walking past Alastor without sparing him a glance and taking Lucifer's. "That sounds just lovely, your grace. Thank you!"

"Step aside, cretin." Lucifer narrowed his gaze on Alastor and the deer quickly side-stepped himself out of the way.

He watched Lucifer and Rosie leave, listening to Lucifer telling her: "You know, Rosie, you are a treasure. You deserve to be treasured. Don't let guys like that waste your time, you know, I've always had the hots for cannibalistic women..."

Alastor watched them another moment before thinking...that may have backfired.

*Duck Donuts is based off of a real donut shop in Idaho Falls, Idaho!!! My wife @whatswrongwithblue asked me to take her there one day when we were passing it "because Lucifer would LOVE it!". 😆

#hazbin hotel #alastor #hazbin hotel fandom #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin alastor #fanfiction #hazbin hotel fanfiction #lucifer morningstar #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer #hazbin hotel rosie #rosie hazbin hotel #my asks #my fanfic

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selenezq · 4 months ago

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🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞MDNI🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞

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

Taglist:

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

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

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embersandlamplight · 3 months ago

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This was a gift for the wonderfully talented @whatswrongwithblue based on her adorable Alastor x Reader fic , "The Morning After".

Fic link and full pic under the cut. (18+ only)

So, @whatswrongwithblue's adorable fic in question can found here. <3 I just couldn't resist drawing bedhead!Alastor!

Ngl, I love colourising Al - his tones are so rich and fun to play with, and the gradient on his arms is always good practice. Definitely going to be some more Al art here in the future.

Materials: Prismacolor markers, Coloured pencils, Black ink

Sidenote: I'm also thinking of uploading a timelapse of this one being coloured, if I can figure out how to kick the editor into working properly, so keep an eye out for that if you're interested. :)

Banner credit to @cafekitsune

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel fanart #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor art #alastor the #hazbin hotel art #sexy alastor #alastor x reader #alastor fluff #alastor fanart #radio demon #bedheadalastoristhecutestconceptisweartogod #hazbin fanart

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6esiree · 8 days ago

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Heyy girliieee!! 💖 I really hope you're doing well and taking care of yourself.

College barely gives me any time for Tumblr anymore, and I feel so robbed of one of the few things I truly enjoy... 😭

Just wanted to check in and see how u doing! 💕

I’m so sorry for the late response, but thank you so much Valerie! I also hope you’re doing well and taking care of yourself <3

Unfortunately, this month is going to be pretty heavy for me too as the semester is nearing its end. I might have to go on a mini hiatus until December, which sucks since I love tumblr and this community! However, I don’t want to fail…

Anywho, I’m not sure if you’re in the VoxTek discord server, but if you are, I’m trying to be more active on there 👀 I recently spoke to @/whatswrongwithblue and she had no idea I had accepted the invite she sent me weeks ago LOL

#valerie my beloved #6esiree answers

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nyx-umbrakinesis · 1 month ago

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☆ GET TO KNOW ME TAG ☆

Thank you for tagging me @redvexillum, (the post was mega long so I started a new one) 💜

(blank template in the comments)

Phone Wallpaper:

Last song I listened to: New Perspective By Panic! At The Disco.

Last movie I saw: Inside Out 2 (lol snap Vexi)

What am I wearing right now? I'm in bed... And I don't wear pyjamas... Figure it out 😏

How tall am I? 5'3"

Piercing/Tatoos: 2 Tattoos, a piercing in each earlobe, but in the past I had another 5 piercings on top of that and had one of those redone one and my lobes redone too.

Glasses/Contacts: Glasses.

Last thing I ate: A sandwich but I was so ill it didn't stay...

Favorite Color: Blue, Black, Purple, Silver.

Current Obsession(s): Hazbin Hotel, and my online wifey's.

Current Crush(es): Alastor, Vox, Lucifer are the main three but I wouldn't say no to a few others 😉 (Lute and Velvette honourable mentions).

Favorite Fictional Crushes: see above.

Last Place I Traveled: The doctors/Hospital no doubt... Lol

NO-PRESSURE TAGS:

Free for all anyone can join in!

@redfoxwritesstuff @lunarmango @crackrodent @inuhalfdemon @whatswrongwithblue @wendigonamecaller @weirdcrocodilelady

#tag game #get to know me

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s-a-f-f-y-nation · 6 days ago

Note

🌸✨💓THIS IS A TUMBLR HUG! 🫂 PASS IT ON AND HAVE A LOVELY DAY! ~♡ (´｡• ᵕ •｡`) ♡

I am going to hug you and never let go. You are never getting away from me. We will all die in a cuddle pile filled with fluff and love

Passing on the hugs to:

@redfoxwritesstuff @redvexillum @mraprilfools @circle-of-mushrooms @nyx-umbrakinesis @crackrodent @inuhalfdemon @whatswrongwithblue @feral-fox-crypt

#Saffy speaks

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crackrodent · 29 days ago

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@redfoxwritesstuff @redvexillum @nyx-umbrakinesis @jgabriel1920 @whatswrongwithblue @inuhalfdemon @persephoneblck @safination @sunsetcougar @mraprilfools

REBLOG if you have amazing, talented WRITER friends.

Because I certainly do, and I love every single one of them and their work.

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redvexillum · 14 days ago

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@whatswrongwithblue Thank you for the request! I tried my best to showcase really long "fuckening" LOL. I would like to dedicate this story to @safination for writing two Adam x Reader stories for me - I'm just super touched, oh my god, thank you!

TAGS/WARNINGS: f!reader, p in v, tentacle s♡x, double penetrati♡n, marathon s♡x, oral s♡x, finger♡ng, an♡l, suspension, squirt♡ng, cunniling♡s, established relationship, soft alastor, alastor being a lil shit, rough s♡x, b♡ndage, ♡verstimulation

An invisible weight tugged down your eyelids, and your shoulders drooped as if bound by chains trying to drag you down. Your eyes burned, your lips felt dry, and your head began to spin. Even in Hell, exhaustion was inescapable. You glanced over at Alastor, who hummed softly as he cleared away the cup of Zestea with a snap of his fingers.

You adjusted the soft, fuzzy towel wrapped around you, sitting on the bed with damp hair draped over your shoulders. Fresh from a warm bath Alastor had prepared, you’d hoped it would relax your body, but all you felt was the maddening sensation of a mind wide awake while your body remained fatigued.

“Ugh, I can’t do it,” you whined, pressing your forehead against your knee and tapping it in frustration. “I’ve been trying to sleep for days, Alastor.” As you lifted your head, you caught his eyebrow arching at your childish display.

The longer you went without sleep, the whinier you became, feeling reduced to a petulant child. You knew it wasn’t fair, but the frustration of your body resisting your mind’s wishes was beyond torment.

“Darling,” Alastor began, his voice velvety smooth.

“Ugh!” You cut him off by flopping back onto the bed, starfishing as the towel wrapped around you started to loosen. “This suuuucks!” you groaned, lightly kicking your heels against the bed in an attempt to release your growing frustration.

“Darl-”

“I don’t understand! I tried everything.” You rolled onto your stomach and shut your eyes tightly. “I was such a terrible insomniac back when I was alive, and now I have to deal with this for the rest of eternity?”

“Dar-”

“What kind of crappy hellhole is this? This seems petty, even for the big guy upstairs, don’t you think?” you continued, oblivious to your surroundings.

“Darling!” Alastor finally raised his voice, and at that moment, tentacles erupted from the bed, grasping your limbs.

Your arms and legs twisted at awkward angles as your body hovered over the bed. The towel slipped free, landing quietly on the bed and baring your form before Alastor.

"Thirteen times," Alastor murmured, his voice dripping with unrestrained amusement, his crimson eyes glinting as they pinned you in place. His hands tucked neatly behind his back, he seemed perfectly composed, though the smirk curling at the edges of his mouth betrayed a darker intent.

Confused, you blinked up at him—only to yelp as the cool, silken press of his shadow tendrils began to glide over your bare skin, teasingly slow. One snaked its way between the cleft of your ass, trailing with lazy patience, the tip wriggling just at your entrance, coaxing a sharp intake of breath from you as pleasure rippled up your spine. Every nerve felt alive, electric, your skin flushing under his unwavering gaze.

"Thirteen times you’ve been acting like a spoiled child today, darling," Alastor’s voice was smooth, chiding, though his eyes were lit with something wicked, ravenous.

Another shadowy tendril traced up your neck, its soft, almost squishy texture making your skin prickle. Then, with one swift movement, it pressed into your mouth, muffling any protest you might’ve made as it filled you. Another tendril wrapped its gentle, pulsing form around your heated skin as it circled down around your breasts, caressing and teasing.

“Mhm…” You tried to respond, your voice muffled, a low hum of pleasure vibrating through you as the tendrils toyed with you. When the tendril in your mouth finally pulled back to let you gasp for air, another tendril plunged deep into your slick core, sliding in with one smooth, tantalizing stroke, filling you completely. A gasp escaped your lips, mingling with a moan as the feeling of fullness set every inch of you aflame, your body helplessly arching into his touch.

“Thirteen times, I’ll help you,” Alastor drawled, his voice low and edged with dark delight. His eyes narrowed to glittering crescents as his grin grew, sharp and almost feral. "Relax," he whispered, his tone smooth as honey as the tendrils inside you began to move, slow and steady, drawing out every inch of pleasure. Each movement left you wanting, needing, as he drew out every moment, teasing you with that maddening slowness.

Your body began to melt under his control, a soft moan spilling from you as your muscles, once taut with frustration, relaxed into his grip. “Does it feel good, darling?” Alastor’s voice dropped to a husky murmur, another shadow tendril swirling around one of your nipples, tightening into a small, deliciously snug loop that squeezed and teased.

“Ah!” Your eyes fell shut, hips rocking as your chest arched forward, giving him everything to see, to touch. “Y-yes,” you gasped, your words coming out in soft, breathless sounds, the tendril inside you quickening, its movements slick, rhythmic, filling the air with soft, lewd sounds as it thrust deeper, harder. "Oh, Alastor, it’s… hah… oh," you panted, your voice breaking into needy little cries as he guided you to the edge, the tendrils driving you further and further until pleasure crashed over you in waves.

Your stomach muscles quivered as your whole body tightened, a cry escaping as your walls clenched around the tendril inside, shuddering through every inch of you.

"One," Alastor murmured, his grin never wavering, his gaze searing into you with that dark promise.

In the hazy bliss of release, realization dawned, sending another thrill of anticipation through you—he intended to count each of your climaxes, to draw out every peak, never stopping until he reached thirteen.

As you struggled to catch your breath, the tendrils began their slow, relentless dance once again. They curled against your still-sensitive walls, pressing and stretching you as warmth and pleasure bloomed anew.

"F-fuck," you exhaled, as the shadow tendril that once entered your mouth slipped between your parted lips once more, moving slowly in and out, coaxing yet another trembling moan from deep within.

Once more, that searing pleasure began to build, crashing into the remnants of your last release. It was a mere matter of minutes before another wave surged through you, and this time, the heat seemed endless, a delicious agony of pleasure that took over completely.

With each wave, your mind grew hazier, lost in the raw, pulsing need that Alastor seemed to stoke with every touch. The world became a blur of pleasure, each second stretching, lingering. At one point, you found your head thrown back, legs stretched out and quivering, your body suspended just above the floor. Alastor’s mouth was buried between your thighs, his deep hums reverberating through you as his tongue explored every sensitive inch of your core, slow and pleasing, dragging out every moment.

Drool escaped from the corner of your parted lips, trailing down your cheek as shadowy tendrils wrapped around you, coaxing your mouth open wider, sliding between your lips and wiggling against your tongue. Every inch of your body burned under his gaze, his presence radiating a heady power that made your pulse quicken.

“Mhm,” Alastor hummed in satisfaction, the dark glint in his eyes making your heart race. In the haze, you heard the metallic clink of his belt buckle loosening, followed by the sharp whisper of his zipper. His hot tongue continued to lap at you, his lips wrapping around your folds as he sucked your clit, firm and lingering, the touch like fire against your swollen, oversensitive skin.

“MMPH,” you gasped, the sound muffled by the tendril holding your mouth open, but the helpless, desperate sound escaped all the same. Your eyes widened as his fingers began circling your tight entrance of your ass, the slick warmth of his touch teasing, coaxing as he eased one finger inside, withdrawing, then pressing deeper with each slow stroke.

His tongue thrust deeper, finding every hidden spot, his finger pressing against that thin sensitive wall between your two entrances. The dual sensation was too much, the pressure building and consuming you, your walls clenching helplessly around his tongue as another wave crashed through you, leaving you breathless, your abdomen tightening with the force of release.

Every lick, every draw of his lips against your clit left you trembling, lost in the sweet torture he inflicted with such calm, focused precision. Each stroke was perfectly timed, drawing out each moment, extending your pleasure as though he revelled in the sounds you made, the way your body arched and jolted beneath him.

In the fog of pleasure, you heard him murmur, “Seven.”

When you came to your senses again, you found yourself bent over, your body limp and pliant, the tendrils holding you aloft in midair as though you were a doll, utterly at his mercy. A bead of drool stretched from your parted lips, joined by tears of pleasure as your mouth let out soft, pleading moans. The two tendrils were thrusting into you now, each movement synchronized, the slick, wet sounds filling the air as they moved with a steady, unrelenting rhythm.

Your gaze drifted up, finding Alastor seated at the edge of the bed, his hand wrapped around his own hardened length. He stroked himself as he watched you, a look of dark satisfaction glinting in his crimson eyes.

It was only when one tendril hit that perfect spot within you, pressing firmly against your G-spot while the other filled your other tight entrance completely, that you finally broke, a scream tearing from you as the overstimulation shattered something deep within. The tendril at your lips pulled away, only to be replaced by something hotter, thicker, its weight heavy on your tongue, the taste of salt and musk filling your senses as Alastor’s cock pressed between your lips, sliding deep.

A warm rush of arousal trickled down your thighs as your voice was muffled by his length, the taste and heft of him only heightening the fiery pleasure rippling through your body. Endless waves crashed over you, each movement of the tendril against your G-spot triggering new jolts of ecstasy that seemed boundless, unending, leaving you helpless to the pleasure he so expertly, mercilessly gave.

Alastor groaned above you, his breath warm and rough as he slowly pushed his thick, heated cock in and out of your mouth, holding you steady, savouring every inch of movement. His pace was unhurried, each slow thrust teasing, almost torturous, as his gaze locked onto yours, intense and devouring. Your arousal dripped down your thighs, tracing warm, wet trails along your skin, each drop pooling and slipping from the tips of your toes.

“Twelve, darling,” he murmured, his voice low and smooth, edged with delight. “Let’s make the last one count.”

The world around you swirled as he lowered you back onto the bed, your body sinking into its soft warmth. Breath ragged, eyes misted, you lay sprawled out, hips trembling from the relentless pleasure that still pulsed through you. Your skin felt hot, nerves buzzing, and each lingering touch of his fingers traced over your sensitized flesh like fire.

Your eyelids grew heavy with exhaustion, every inch of your body both sated and aching. Alastor moved above you, the rough fabric of his suit brushing against your sensitive skin, heightening every touch. His face hovered just inches from yours, close enough that his breath ghosted over your lips as he let the length of his cock trail along your soaked folds, the friction sending sparks of pleasure that left you breathless.

“This one’s mostly for me,” he murmured, a wicked grin spreading as he gently brushed damp strands of hair from your forehead, his fingers warm against your skin.

Your body arched in response, anticipation building as his thick cock finally pressed against you, the heat of him molten as he slowly entered, stretching you inch by inch. Your breath hitched, a hoarse, needy sound escaping as he filled you, the sensation overwhelming. He didn’t stop until he was buried to the hilt, his belt buckle pressing sharply against your heated skin, a rough contrast that only heightened the feeling of fullness.

Every muscle in your body clenched as waves of pleasure rippled outward, your nerves raw and hypersensitive, ready for another release that you could feel building within. Your lips parted, words caught in your throat as a helpless whimper slipped out, each slight twitch in response to his touch making you tremble.

With one hand, he held the top of your head, his fingers threading into your hair as he grinned, dark eyes gleaming. Alastor drew back slowly, then snapped his hips forward, and your back arched as your breasts bounced, his rough pace jolting your body with each thrust, his grip on your head keeping you steady as his cock found every sensitive spot within.

“Al—” you gasped, voice breaking, your eyes rolling back, lids heavy with exhaustion and pleasure, each blink longer as your mind swam in the intensity.

He drew back and drove forward again, hips pressing hard against you, each impact a sinful contrast against the throbbing heat of your body. The sensation was overwhelming, each strike pressing into your sensitive clit, bringing you higher. His grunts mingled with your soft moans, and the rhythmic creaking of the bed was all you could hear, each movement pushing you to the edge, again and again.

The relentless rhythm sent you deeper into bliss, every thrust pressing you into the mattress, each slick sound growing louder as he moved faster, harder. His cock rubbed against your inner walls, hitting all your sensitive spots, while the front of his pelvis struck your swollen clit with every thrust, sending a sharp, electrifying pleasure through you.

Your mouth opened in a silent scream, pleasure breaking over you in a blinding rush, your body writhing as the release washed through you. Darkness tinged the edges of your vision, and you cried out, guttural and raw, as another flood of arousal spilled from you, leaving you trembling, body spent in the aftermath of pure ecstasy.

You couldn’t open your eyes, let alone move your body. A dull heaviness clung to you, making every part of you feel like lead. Vaguely, you felt a twitch in your leg, a reminder of the overwhelming sensation that had consumed you earlier, leaving you utterly exposed. Your body lay wide open, but at that moment, you felt a delicious thrill rather than shame, too intoxicated by the aftershocks of pleasure to care. Gradually, the world around you faded into a blissful oblivion, and you drifted into unconsciousness.

When you finally woke up, the first sensation was the softness of the sheets against your skin. You blinked blearily, realizing you were curled up in your pyjamas, holding on to your pillow. Every muscle ached, a pleasant reminder of the night’s indulgence, but your mind felt clearer now. As you looked around, confusion settled in; you were alone in the vast expanse of Alastor’s bed, surrounded by the lingering scent of him.

Holding the pillow tightly to your chest, a cold wash of loneliness hit you, heavy and suffocating. How could he have fucked you into unconsciousness and just left? The least he could do was stay, to wrap his arms around you and share the warmth after such an intense experience. A sigh escaped your lips, a mix of frustration and yearning. Perhaps he had cuddled you while you were lost in sleep, but the emptiness in the bed felt cold, and you craved his presence.

Contemplating, you tried to settle back down, hoping to find solace in sleep again, but the silence of the room felt stifling. With a huff of irritation, you realized you were back at square one—restless and alone. Sitting up, you pulled the pillow against your chest, desperate for a sense of comfort.

A sudden spark of determination flickered within you, and you decided to check the Radio Tower. It was his usual point of interest, and you hoped he might still be there. Climbing the stairs, excitement bubbled in your chest. Peering through the door window, you caught sight of Alastor’s back, his smooth voice floating through the air like music, wrapping around you and bringing an involuntary smile to your lips.

Perhaps you could wait for him to finish his business, and then the two of you could go for a stroll. Settling onto the weathered couch, you tucked your knees in and hugged the pillow tighter. Resting your head back, you closed your eyes, focusing on the sound of his voice.

“One might say they were quite bone dry by the time they left Cannibal Town, hahaha,” Alastor laughed, his transatlantic accent rolling over you like a warm caress.

You couldn’t help but snort at his silly word play, the sound bubbling up despite the heaviness in your heart. You leaned into his words, letting them wash over you, wrapping you in a cocoon of warmth and familiarity. As he continued to speak, you felt yourself begin to relax, the tension in your body melting away.

But before you knew it, his voice began to fade, the room darkening around you, pulling you into its depths. The warmth of the couch enveloped you, and soon, your consciousness slowly slipped away once more, leaving behind a lingering ache for his presence.

Alastor let out a soft sigh, brushing off invisible dust from his arm as he stepped outside, a satisfied smile playing on his lips. He felt a swell of happiness, not only because he had pleased his darling, but also because he had managed to broadcast his show right on time. Yet, as his eyes adjusted to the dim light, they caught sight of you curled up on the couch, fast asleep.

A flicker of concern crossed his face, his brows knitting together as he wondered why you were sleeping in such an uncomfortable spot instead of the cozy bed he had prepared for you. He opened his mouth, ready to chastise you for choosing the couch over the warmth of your own bedding, but as he got closer, his breath hitched. The soft, gentle expression on your face silenced him.

Alastor paused, his hand hovering just above your shoulder, a mix of irritation and affection coursing through him. Should he really wake you? But before he could make up his mind, a smirk tugged at his lips, and with a snap of his fingers, a plush blanket materialized, draping softly over your body. He couldn’t help but soften the jagged edge of his smile when he heard the lovely sigh that escaped your lips as you instinctively snuggled deeper into the pillow, blissfully unaware of his presence.

He stood there, captivated, his eyes locked onto your serene face. A warmth spread through his chest as he observed you, unblinking and utterly entranced. The urge to simply leave and let you rest was his first thought, but instead, his fingers betrayed him. They reached out, tracing the strands of your hair, lifting a lock gently before placing a tender kiss upon it. His heart swelled as he watched you, his typically sharp demeanour softening in the glow of your innocence.

But then, as if splashed with icy water, reality struck. He quickly dropped your hair as if it had burned him, a flicker of panic dancing in his eyes. He darted a furtive glance around, ensuring no one had witnessed this moment of vulnerability. Alastor, the ever-composed radio demon, was suddenly aware of how uncharacteristic his actions had been.

The sensible thing would be to let you sleep, especially after the struggles you had faced throughout the week. Yet, against his better judgment, he summoned a chair next to you, settling down with a resigned huff.

As he waited, a swirl of emotions churned inside him—anticipation, affection, and a strange sense of longing. He found himself drawn to the idea of spending the rest of eternity by your side, watching you awaken to a world painted in shades of endless amusement, delight, and his presence.

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