#THEY ALL LOOK GOOD BUT THAT CHARLIE AH!!!!

[angelic-writer]

“Lunch is over. We’ve gotta go.” Carter said as he handed M&M’s back to Gavin who happily took them and put it back in his bag. Everyone else got up and began to head to their classes.

For the rest of the day, the others tried to focus on their subjects like normal. However, they couldn’t stop thinking about the triplets and how interested they are in joining Tyler's exploration group. The idea of going outside while there are murderous entities roaming around sounded like tempting with fate. They all know what would happen if a mimic gets them. They've seen the reports over the years. They couldn’t risk it. They already had enough things to deal with. Not to mention the fact that Tyler had been getting more and more reckless by the day. He’d do whatever he can to keep up the tough kid persona.

After school, they all went home after saying goodbye to each other. Another school day done and over with. Mavis and Charlie immediately went straight home, arriving at 4 PM. Their mom was putting the dishes in the dishwasher when they came in the door. “Hey guys! How was your day?” She asked as she dried her hands with the flannel.

“Uh, it was alright. Three kids transferred to our school today. They were nice.” Mavis replied, plopping his backpack on the floor.

"And their friends back home are quite the daredevils!" Charlie added.

“I see. I’m glad to know. Maybe you two will finally get some more friends, besides Carter and those scene kids.”

“Dad, Tyler and Gavin are fine. They’re not hurting anyone with their fashion sense.”

“I know, I know. I just worry for them.”

Mavis sighed and went upstairs to his room. Charlie rolled her eyes. "You need to take a break from those televangelists." She said before following her brother.

Delilah Mallard looked out the window at the bright blue sky that was dotted with clouds. Those kids... I worry about them, esoecially Charlie. She's been ignoring the curfew more and more lately. I hope those two aren't getting her into some serious trouble.

She sighed. Just a couple more hours of normalcy before the curfew and the daily broadcast. She reminded herself to lock the doors beforehand.

Elsewhere, Carter arrived at his own home and saw his mother, Camila sitting at the kitchen table with his father, Santiago serving her food. “Hey mom.” He said, giving her a small hug.

“Ah, welcome back, hijo. How was school?” Santiago asked.

“It was good. Three kids actually came to our school today. We didn’t get a chance to show them around, but they seem nice. One of them actually told me that if Keith tried to mess with them, they’ll give him hell.”

His two parents chuckled. “Pretty feisty ones you got there, huh?” Santiago asked.

“Yeah, they are. I hope I can talk to them more. Maybe I could introduce them to you guys.”

“Oh, that would be great. It’s nice to have new faces here.” Camila said. Carter noticed that her olive skin looked a little paler than usual. He took note of the number of breaths she took, noticing that it was a bit faster than normal. He looked to the counter and saw that there were a couple of pills left in the bottle.

“Hey dad, do you mind if I pick up mom’s medication?” He asked.

“Oh no, Carter, you don’t have to do that. I’ll do it after dinner-”

“Papa, it’s fine. I can take care of it. You just focus on mom.”

“…Alright. There should be enough for her dose.”

“You be careful, Carter. There’s a lot of dangerous people out there.” Camila said, clasping her son’s hand.

“I will. I’ll see you later.” With a kiss on the cheek, he was out the door. He got in the car and started driving to the pharmacy. Ever since he was a kid, his dad had to take care of her. He felt bad for him, having to deal with doctors and medical bills, so when he was old enough, he took the mantle whenever he’s not around.

He still remembered the first time he noticed something was wrong.

He and Mavis were playing in the backyard like usual. Santiago was in the patio, watching them and Camila just came back from the grocery store. After putting the bags away, she greeted her husband with a little nose kiss. Everything was perfectly normal when she suddenly put her hand on her chest.

“Ngh…”

“Camila? You okay?” Santiago asked.

“Chest… tight… hurts… I-I think…” She was struggling to take deep breaths.

Santiago’s eyes widened. “Dios mio, you’re having a heart attack! Here, sit down right now.” He led her to one of the patio chairs and sat her down. “Putting more strain on your heart is the last thing we need.”

Carter and Mavis had stopped kicking a soccer ball around and was now looking at his mom with concern. “Mom? Are you okay?!” The two boys rushed over to see what was going on.

“Ah, mierde, that hurts…”

“Mom?! What’s going on?! Are you okay?!” Carter asked in a panicked voice.

“I-Is something wrong, Mrs. Rodriguez?!” Mavis joined in on his friend’s panicking, his 6 year old brain not understanding what was going on.

“D-Don’t worry… I’m okay. I’m just feeling a little under the weather today.” Camila tried to reassure them.

The two boys looked at each other. That did not look like she was under the weather.

“Alright, boys. I’m gonna need you to stay back. Give her some air.” Santiago gently pulled the boys back. He was on the phone with someone they didn’t know, but they would get their answer a second later.

“It’s going to be alright. I called for an ambulance and they’ll be here soon. Just try to keep calm and it’ll be okay.”

It felt like time had stopped for the 7 year old. Ambulance…? Such a foreign, alien word… Why did his mom need it? Was she sick?

“Mrs. Rodriguez, are you okay? Why is Mr. Rodriguez calling an ambulance? Are you sick?” Mavis asked, voice trembling.

Camila smiled a reassuring smile. “Yes, I’m okay. I just need to go to the hospital and I’ll be just fine."

“But why do you need a hospital? You look perfectly- Well, you looked perfectly fine.” Carter said, trying to understand what was going on.

She sighed. “I may look like I’m fine. But this sickness… is inside of me.”

“Inside…? What do you mean…?”

That was the day he learned about her heart condition. She was diagnosed with it a week later. Arrhythmia causes improper beating of the heart, the doctor told little Carter. Sometimes too fast, sometimes too slow. Sometimes, it can cause the heart to beat erratically. It can be fatal.

Fatal.

That word bounced around in his brain years later. He didn’t want to lose his mom. He wanted her to see him go through all the milestones in life. Prom, graduation, getting his first job, moving out, having a family - He wanted her here for all of it.

He pulled into the parking lot of the pharmacy and got out of the car. As long as he and his dad are here to take care of her, she’ll live to see it all.

Project Mimicry (Vol 1) - Chapter 1

"In the beginning, God created the heaven and the Earth." - Genesis 1:1

1983

"This is a test. This station is conducting a test of the Emergency Broadcasting System. This is only a test."

A long, screeching noise blared from the old TV. The Markson family had a different program on when they announced the test. It was some cowboy show their dad loved so much. For eleven year old Jade, it made her stomach churn. It was an odd sound, different from the sounds of horses and gunfire that came from the living room while they were doing family worship. It made her want to jump into her mother's arms and pray to Jehovah for the noise to stop.

Her mom, dad and brother were silent as the attention signal droned on. After a minute, it stopped.

"This is a test of the emergency broadcasting system. The broadcasters of your area in voluntary cooperation with federal, state and local authorities have developed this system to keep you informed in the event of an emergency. If this had been an actual emergency, the attention signal you have just heard would have been filed by official information, news or instructions. This station serves the northern Alabama area. This concludes this test of the emergency broadcast system."

Jade fiddled with the pages of her book, trying to think of the right words to say. Her brother, Caleb had resumed work on his drawing, seeming to not care about anything. Her mother let out a small sigh. "I swear, can they not scare the kids like that?"

"Mom..." Jade quietly said. "Why do they send out something like this? What if it hadn't been a test? Are... Are we gonna die?"

Opal got up from her chair and pulled her into her arms. "Oh sweetie, we're not gonna die. Everything's gonna be okay. This whole thing will blow over in no time."

"Well Jade," Opal's husband, Simon, chimed in. "They played the test on our TV because they want to inform us on what's happening. The world is at a very turbulent time at the moment so they are doing their best to keep us informed. If we were actually under attack, we would've been hiding in the basement." He let out a small chuckle.

"Well, what can we do to make it better?" Jade asked.

"Pray to Jehovah, of course. Our safety is his priority and if we pray to him, he'll protect us."

Jade smiled and snuggled into her mother. Jehovah is the only thing she knew. She may not be like the other "worldly" kids, but she didn't need all those material goods. She didn't need to see the latest movie or buy the newest toys. As long as she had her family and Jehovah, she can get through anything.

Caleb let out a soft coo.

"Oh, we didn't forget about you!" Simon lifted him out of his baby chair and gently rocked him. The whole family began to giggle.

This was their life. This was their routine. Jade was determined to be a good older sister to Caleb. And soon, he will be baptized.

-------

December 24th, 1983

"This is an important message from the Crestwood police department. This is not a test. I repeat, this is not a test. The Crestwood police department has issued a Shelter-in-place Warning for the county of Crestwood until further notice. Reports of unknown figures have been confirmed by law enforcement and the Department of Babylonian Crusaders. For your safety, until 5 PM to 6 AM, stay home, lock all doors and windows and, in the event of a break-in, have access to a loaded weapon at all times. Do not call 911 unless you need to report an emergency. The Crestwood police department and the Department of Babylonian Crusaders thanks you for your cooperation.

Stay tuned for a message from the representative of the Department of Babylonian Crusaders."

"Hello. My name is Dr. Lloyd Evans from the Department of Babylonian Crusaders. We have been receiving reports of unknown organisms that we've decided to call mimics. You may have already gotten the alert from the EBS about this phenomenon, but we're here to tell you about what those mimic types are and what you can do to protect yourself.

The first type are the defensive mimics. They are a sub group of mimics that take on the role of a protector when they find a human. Some pose as aggressive mimics to ward off other humans or they deceive humans they perceive as harmful with their harmless look and kill them. Think of it as a predator camouflaging itself in order for them to eat their prey.

There are three types of defensive mimics. There are Batesian, Mullerian and Emsleyan or Mertensian mimics.

Batesian mimics are harmless. They pose as a harmful mimic to ward off anyone they tries to hurt them or their human.

Mullerian mimics are two or more mimics that advertise themselves as harmful to ward off predators. These mimics often work in groups of two or three.

Emsleyan or Mertensian mimics take the form of a less harmful mimic to deceive the predator and kill them.

These ones can be considered safe, but you should still be wary of them. Aggressive mimics are the ones you need to watch out for. Now, aggressive mimics are the type of mimic that pose as humans to kill them. These types use mind games to toy with their victims. If they haven't committed suicide, the mimic will finish the job.

Predators are a mimic group where they take the form of a loved one, deceive them into thinking they are the real person and then use psychological manipulation. Those are the most dangerous types of mimics and we strongly advise to avoid them at all costs.

Parasites are [REDACTED DUE TO SIGNAL GLITCH]

Now, here's what you can do to keep yourself safe. Stay in your homes after 6 PM, lock all windows and doors and keep a loaded weapon with you at all times. In the event of a mimic attack, follow the S.A.F.E. principle.

S - Secure yourself in a room.

A - Access the situation. Learn how the mimic operates.

F - Fire your weapon. If the mimic attacks, do not hesitate. It can mean life or death.

E - If possible, escape. Do not let them win.

We hope this message keeps you safe. We're very sorry for the interruption and we hope you have a Merry Christmas!"

Though this message was broadcasted to most TVs, some of them reported the S part saying something different. According to reports, it said "Surrender yourself to the Lord."

--------

1987

The young man's back was pressed up against the wall. The shotgun he had in his hands had one shell left. The creature that was at his door kept calling out to him in a mockery of his wife's voice.

"Ralphie... Please let me in... I'm sorry for sca-a-a-aring you back there. You know how I am."

His grip tightened. That wasn't her. That wasn't his wife. She was dead. And now, he was going to die too. His eyes started to fill with tears.

Marla... I'm so sorry... I couldn't protect you... I couldn't save you from these things.

The image of his wife sprawled out on the kitchen floor flashed in his mind. Her neck that was gushing blood... He swallowed, trying to hold back his vomit. They had followed the rules. They had done everything the broadcast said. What did they do wrong? They had to have done something wrong for something like this to happen.

He gritted his teeth. Pondering over this won't help him now. Remember the S.A.F.E. principle, Ralph. Remember.

He secured himself in his bedroom, grabbing his shotgun so he could protect himself. He analyzed the situation. The creature, the mimic, was trying to use his wife's voice to lure him out, using his nickname. Ralphie was what she would call him when he came home from work. The way she said it made his heart soar. However, when it said his nickname, it felt like nails on a chalkboard.

The high school sweethearts had moved into the rural Alabama town after they had gotten married in New York. They thought getting away from the bustling city life would help them. They were in the talks of starting a family when the broadcast came on, talking about reports of mimics.

"Talk about bad timing. On Christmas too." Marla had said while bringing out the cookies and milk. "Let's hope Santa gets there okay."

"I hope so too. But hey, look on the bright side. This lockdown will end at 6 AM tomorrow. We've still got time to celebrate, right?"

"Yeah, I guess you're right. Besides, anything's fun with you." She gave him a light peck on the cheek.

A low sob escaped him. There was so much they wanted to do together. So many things they had planned. Their entire life... They were now gone.

Oh Marla... Why did they have to take you? What did we do?

God, please... Please help me.

He wiped his face. No, crying and pleading to some higher being isn't gonna solve anything. I have to survive. I have to live on for Marla! If I can get out of here, I could alert the police.

With a sense of courage taking over, he pointed his shotgun at the door. The mimic had begun to claw at the door, no doubt leaving scratch marks in the wood. "Ralphie... Please... Let me in. It's so cold. My neck hurts. Help..."

"Shut up... You're not her..."

The doorknob rattled.

"You're not her. You're not her! You're not her!!"

There was a sudden loud banging making him jump. "Ralph, open the goddamn door! You'd really leave me out here with these things?! How could you?!" The thing screeched.

"You're! Not! Her! Leave me alone!! You killed her, you monster!! You're not- You're not her!" He screamed, tears streaming down his face. "Just try and get me! I dare you! I'll fucking shoot you if you try anything!"

"Ralph..." His 'wife' had begun to cry. Normally, it would cause him to go over and hug her, but he will not be swayed. What it was doing, it was disgusting. It's desecrating his wife's memory, his image, his everything. The nerve of the creature...

The door flew open, allowing Ralph to see the monster. Though it was hard to see through the darkness, what he could see made him freeze.

Its form was tall and lanky, its arms and legs stretched out to an almost inhuman degree. What little hair it had on its head was beginning to fall off. Its skin was beginning to sag. Ralph could swear he was beginning to see bones. The mimic looked at him with empty eyes yet it pierced his soul with an intense glare. It opened its mouth to speak, but all that came out were rasps and gargles.

Ralph began to shake, his aim wavering as he stared at... He didn't even know what he was seeing. It was human, but at the same time, it was not. It looked like his wife, but it was like looking at a decomposing carcass. The smell... It smelled like rotten eggs left out on the hot sidewalk. Bile threatened to come up his throat, but he held it in.

One shot. He had to make it count. If it failed...

The creature began to laugh. It was the kind of laugh that made you cringe. It was an ear-piercing, gurgling laugh that was like if you tried to imitate a toy clown on its last legs.

Ralph pressed his finger on the trigger. Taking a deep breath, he screamed out.

"I will not let you kill me!!"

The gun went off.

--------

2017

The group of kids stared at the small house as their two older brothers talked to the movers. The smallest one of the bunch hugged her teddy bear. Though leaving their home state of Florida didn't seem like a huge deal at first, Catherine still had her doubts. Sure, they were free from all the hurricanes, but they still had friends there. They still had people they could talk to.

But now, she and her brothers moved to a new town. There was no one she knew there. And there was... an abundance of churches. Lots and lots of churches.

@chibisrpblog

[mischievouslittlecreature]

Part 26: Do You Love Me

Summary: Celebrations for Ruby's birthday are interrupted when Aberama arrives with claims of betrayal and a desire for vengeance.

Word Count: 5,478

Warnings: Violence, suicidal thoughts, and references to minor character death.

Previous Chapter • Series • Fic • Next Chapter

Chapter 7: Endless Night

When they got home, Tommy touched her gently by the arm. Eyes lowering, his tongue darted out to wet his lips. 

“I need to go talk to Lizzie about her letter.”

She frowned, wondering if now, on his daughter’s birthday of all days, was a good time to pick a potential fight with her mother. But she supposed that there was no point really in trying to put it off. 

“Okay. I’ll make myself scarce.”

He frowned at the wording, entwining their fingers and raising her hand to press a kiss to the back of it. “I don’t expect we’ll be long.”

She gave him a peck on the lips. “Good luck.”

He gave her an agonized look that she was pretty sure was meant to be a smile, but came out as more of a grimace. Her fingers fiddled at her rings as she watched him head towards his office. Turning, she made her way towards the sitting room, hoping to seek out the kids or maybe one of the animals to keep her company. 

“Lucy!”

She started at the sound of Ruby’s voice, smiling when she spotted the little girl racing down the stairs towards her. 

“Hey, birthday girl!” She bent down to scoop her up, groaning overdramatically as she lifted her. “You’re getting so big, sweetheart! I won’t be able to carry you around for much longer.”

“Noooooo!” Ruby cried, but she was giggling toothily. Trailing behind her, Lizzie descended the stairs, heels clicking delicately against the floor.

“Tommy wants to see you in his office,” Lucy told her in a gentle voice. Lizzie just nodded, but her eyes darted to Ruby. “I got her.”

Lizzie reached out to stroke a lock of Ruby’s hair back. “You stay with Lucy, alright sweetheart? I’ll be just a few minutes.”

“And then we can have cake?”

Lizzie stifled a laugh. Lucy smiled. “Yes, sweet one.”

Ruby wriggled happily, watching with Lucy as her mother wandered away in the direction of Tommy’s office. Hitching her up higher on her hip, Lucy carried her from the stairway and into one of the nearby sitting rooms. Strategically far enough away from the office that, if any yelling started, Ruby hopefully wouldn’t be able to hear. With a huff, she collapsed back onto one of the couches, setting Ruby down on the cushion next to her.

“So. What did you get up to today, little miss? Hm?”

“Well…” Ruby giggled. “Mummy took me and Charlie to afternoon tea at the Midland.”

“Did she now? Did you have fun?”

Ruby nodded vigorously. 

“Did you get to open any of your presents yet?”

She pouted a little, dark doe eyes widening. “No. Mummy said not until after you and Daddy came home.”

“Ah. Well that was very thoughtful of her. I’m sure that your dad will want to see you open them.”

“Yeah,” Ruby shifted to snuggle into her side, picking at a loose thread on her dress. Lucy wrapped an arm around her, head cocking as she examined the little girl. Outwardly, she seemed her usual cheerful self. But there was something in the slight lowering of her eyes that made Lucy frown. 

“You okay, sweetie?”

“Uh huh. I just think that Mummy’s sad, is all.”

Your mummy is always sad, sweet one, Lucy thought, throat turning to sandpaper as she swallowed around the words. 

“It’s been…a bit of a difficult time at Daddy’s work lately, love. And it’s been affecting all of us. Including your mum.” She hoped that would be a good enough explanation about what was happening. Ruby frowned. “But hey,” she quickly moved to reassure the child, “your daddy will take care of it, eh? He always does.”

Ruby nodded. “Daddy takes care of everyone.”

“Yes, he does.”

A crease formed between her brows, those dark eyes darting to Lucy’s, wide with worry. “But who will take care of Daddy, Lucy?”

She felt her heart squeeze a little at the girl’s sweetness. Always a daddy’s girl. From the very moment she’d been born.

“I will, Ruby. That’s what I’m here for. You don’t need to worry.”

“You promise?” Ruby’s eyes were beseeching. Lucy smiled down at her. 

“Yes, honey, I promise.”

Seemingly satisfied, Ruby wrapped her little arms around her and nestled her head against her shoulder. Lucy stroked a hand over her hair.

“We can make it part of your birthday present, hm? What do you think?” she asked, hoping to lighten the mood. It seemed to work, Ruby grinning brightly. 

“Yeah! Okay!”

“Happy birthday, kiddo.” She kissed the top of her head. “Just you wait. Soon you’ll be old like me.”

“Noooo! I’m never gonna get old!” Ruby laughed. Lucy chuckled. “Can we play cards?” 

Lucy pressed her smiling lips together. Young as Ruby still may have been, it was her philosophy that you were never too young to start learning how to swindle at poker. She’d been teaching both the kids various card games since they were practically still in nappies. 

“Of course. I’m sure we can find a deck around here somewhere.”

It only took a little searching for them to find one, and they were just wrapping up their first game when Frances came in. 

“Miss. Winters, Mrs. Shelby asked that I take the children to the drawing room at seven for cake.”

At the mention of cake, Ruby bolted up from her seat and went racing for the door. Lucy smiled a little to herself, reaching across the table to gather up the cards and arrange them in a neat little stack. 

“Are you not coming, Miss?”

She looked up to find Frances still hovering in the doorway. She offered the housekeeper a weak smile. She had not been expressly invited to the celebrations going on in the next room. Nor did she feel bold enough to try to force her way into being included. Lizzie didn’t want her there, so she would respect her wishes. 

You are so fucking selfish.

The words had cut her deeper than she’d initially thought. Cycling in her head. Tormenting her. Leaving her to lie awake at night, staring up at the canopy, and wondering, for perhaps the thousandth time, if her presence truly was as massively damaging as Lizzie made it out to be. 

“They don’t want me there.”

“That’s not true, Miss.”

“Well, I’d rather not have to deal with Lizzie’s temper, today.” 

“Mrs. Shelby…she sometimes lets her jealousy get the best of her, but deep down, I don’t think she dislikes you nearly as much as you think.”

“Yeah,” Lucy whispered. She had thought that too, once. But as time went on it got harder and harder to believe. “Thank you, Frances.”

“Of course, Miss. I’ll leave you be.”

She nodded gratefully, curling her legs under her on the couch, plucking up a book sitting on the end table. The room was dimly lit, not the best for reading, but it fit the mood she was in. As she flipped through it idly, Trouble crept out from wherever it was she had been hiding, and curled into her lap. 

It did not take long for her to hear the sounds of Lizzie and Charlie singing Happy Birthday to Ruby in the other room. Her throat tightened, chest suddenly aching sharply with the feeling of exclusion and loneliness. Snapping the book shut, she stood, scooping Trouble up into her arms. With quick steps she headed for Tommy’s office, where she was unlikely to hear the sounds of the family singing and celebrating. 

Setting Trouble down on a nearby armchair, Lucy picked up a few stacks of papers on Tommy’s desk, sitting down and beginning to look them over. Trouble found her way into her lap again, meowing in complaint everytime Lucy ceased petting her even for a moment. She wondered if the cat could sense her distress. It would explain why she was suddenly insistent on remaining so close to her.  

The door opened perhaps fifteen or twenty minutes later. Tommy’s heavy footfalls approached her slowly, coming to a stop right beside her. 

“I was looking for you.”

Lucy swallowed harshly, the action burning a little. She cleared her throat. “Sorry.”

“Why didn’t you come for cake?”

“Didn’t want to spoil things.”

“You could never spoil things.”

“Lizzie would disagree. I’m sure that she had a much nicer time without me there to pop her happy little bubble.”

“I didn’t have a nicer time.”

She finally looked up from the papers she had been pointedly keeping her gaze fixed on. He was standing over her, a plate containing a slice of chocolate cake with a silver fork balanced on the edge clutched in one hand. His eyes were tired and hurt.

Another sharp pang of guilt twisted like a knife in her heart. “I’m sorry.”

He examined her for a moment more, then looked away. “It’s alright.” It clearly wasn’t, but she didn’t really want to discuss it further. At least not right then. He held out the plate to her. “I brought you this.”

Setting aside her papers, she took it. “Thank you.” Watching him walk around the desk to sit behind it, she frowned at the continued look of open distress on his features. Trouble hopped off of her lap to follow him, brushing her little body against his ankles. “Did Ruby have a good time?”

“She loves her presents.” He shot her a knowing look which Lucy shied away from. They both were well aware that most of the gifts with his name on them had actually been purchased by her. 

“Good. That’s good.” Taking up her fork, she gathered up a small bite of the cake. It was dense and rich. Sweet on her tongue, with just the right edge of bitterness to keep the sweetness from being too overpowering. As she chewed, she eyed Tommy, worry growing by the minute. “Are you alright?”

He cleared his throat, looking away from her to some far off, distant point. “I got a call.” He didn’t need to specify from whom. “I asked them some questions about Michael, but they didn’t have anything of much use for us.”

“Okay…” That wasn’t really all that surprising, all things considered. Disappointing, maybe. But it didn’t seem like reason enough for him to appear so upset. “How did your talk with Lizzie go?”

He didn’t respond, still staring at a nondescript place on the far wall. Setting her fork down, she put the plate on the desk in front of her and leaned forward to try to get in his line of sight. 

“Tommy?”

He came to with a jerk, eyes snapping to hers. “Hm?”

“What did Lizzie say?”

The way that his face fell told her that she’d found the source of his sullen mood. Lucy tensed, preparing herself for whatever new venom Lizzie had chosen to throw at him. Tommy drew in a deep, painful breath. 

“She said that she took Ruby to Arthur’s because she’s scared of me.”

Lucy’s brows drew in. Already that made no sense. Ruby adored Tommy. Not once had she shown fear towards him. If anything it was the opposite. He was always the one that she wanted whenever she had nightmares or was frightened of the monster under her bed. 

But Tommy wasn’t done yet. “Lizzie says that when she knows I’m not coming home that she’s…different.”

Rage, hot and trembling, began to course through her. Her fingers balled into fists, little crescents digging into her skin as she fought to leash her temper.

How fucking dare Lizzie try to use that sweet girl to hurt him. She knew how much Tommy loved Ruby; how important she was; how cherished the relationship that they had was to his heart. 

One look at Tommy’s face, and she realized that was not all. There was something more. “What else?” she asked, working hard to keep most of the anger coursing through her out of her voice. 

Tommy smacked his lips together. His thumb was moving back and forth anxiously, she could see, where it was resting on his thigh. 

“She’s concerned that if I get killed, or end up offing myself, that there won’t be anything left for her.” He choked out a humorless laugh. “She thinks that if I’m gone, she’d take my place in everything.”

Lucy stared at him, eyes wide, mouth half agape. Lizzie thought that Tommy was going to die. She thought that he was on the precipice of death, that he was suicidal, and all she cared about was fucking money!? And she told him that!?

She opened her mouth to speak. Or maybe to just let out a scream of rage before flying out of her chair to go find Lizzie and throttle her, when the growl of an engine quickly approaching the house sounded from outside. 

Her brows knit. Tommy frowned, standing and going to peek out the window. A bark sounded from near the front door. Asher. 

“Tell Lizzie to get the kids upstairs,” Tommy said, springing into motion. Lucy nodded, rage momentarily forgotten as she hurried out of the office and to the drawing room. Lizzie was seated with Charlie and Ruby, playing with some of Ruby’s new toys. Lizzie looked up, saw her expression, heard the approaching engine, and shot out of her seat, taking both children by the hand and rushing them towards the stairs. Lucy gave her a quick nod in approval. At the very least, she could always depend on Lizzie to keep the kids safe.

Barreling from the drawing room, she met Tommy at the cupboard loaded with weapons. Her fingers flexed around the rifle he pressed into her hands, bringing the stock to rest against her shoulder. Together, they headed for the front entryway. 

Asher was still barking and growling by the door. “Stay, boy,” Lucy ordered. He quieted and sat down on his haunches immediately, though his brown eyes followed them as they went outside. Tommy plastered himself against the wall of the archway that curled over the front door, a hand signaling for Lucy to take position behind him, her side also pressed to the cold wall that was serving as their cover.

They remained completely still, just listening with hands gripping tight to their weapons. The car engine jutted to a halt, then shut off entirely in the driveway. One of the car doors opened, followed by a thud, and sharp groans of pain. 

Lucy frowned when she recognized the voice that started calling out Tommy’s name. “Is that Johnny?”

With fluid movements that greatly resembled that of a big cat, Tommy sprang into motion. Lifting his gun to level with the car as he stepped out onto the drive, he began shouting orders to the person still inside behind the wheel. Lucy followed behind, rifle raised to cover him. Her eyes squinted at the driver’s seat, trying to make out in the shadows who was seated behind the wheel. Johnny Dogs had been dumped out onto the ground, writhing and clutching at his side. 

When Aberama stepped out of the car, Lucy felt her breathing hitch in horror. He was bloodied, tears shining in his eyes. There was something half mad in them that made her skin prickle with alarm. She kept her rifle raised, just in case. Despite Aberama not holding any weapons in his hands.  

Her blood chilled as Aberama started to speak in a voice laced with tears. Telling them of how Bonnie had been strung up on a cross and shot while they were camping out in the wilderness. At Tommy’s question as to who had attacked them, he reached into his pocket, and threw a crumpled ball of paper to them. Lucy kept her rifle trained on Aberama as Tommy stepped forward to pick it up and unfurled it. She glanced over Tommy’s shoulder at the words scrawled in black, the paper stained red with blood. 

BY ORDER OF THE BILLY BOYS.

Her eyes snapped back to Aberama as he explained that only Johnny Dogs had known where they were camped. Johnny immediately started to try to insist on his innocence. That sent Aberama into a rage, lunging at him where he was still curled on the ground.

 Tommy put down his weapon and jumped between them, trying to wrestle Aberama off of Johnny. Lucy kept a careful distance away from them, rifle still raised in case she needed to use it. She couldn’t fire as long as they were all tussling together like that, though. She wouldn’t risk hitting Tommy, and she didn’t want to outright kill Aberama or Johnny either. At least not before they had a clearer understanding of what had happened. She could always shoot Aberama in the leg to incapacitate him. She didn’t want to, but she would if she had to. 

Tommy managed to pull the two men apart, and Lucy took a cautious step closer to Johnny, lowering her rifle a little. Taking hold of Aberama, Tommy started to try to calm him down and talk sense into him. As Tommy continued to speak, Aberama suddenly went still, his gaze turning cold. 

“They crucified my son…for you,” his voice had lowered considerably into a malicious murmur. 

Lucy brought her finger to rest on the trigger of her rifle at the same moment that Aberama lunged for the gun Tommy had left lying on the ground. He had just coiled his fingers around it, half raising it to level with Tommy’s chest, when two gunshots rang out sharply. 

But the bullets came not from Lucy’s gun, nor from Aberama’s. 

They came from Lizzie’s.

They all jerked with surprise, the thundering echoes of the gunshots reverberating all around them. Lucy felt her muscles lock with the preparation for a fight before she realized what was happening. Aberama drew back, hunching over himself as if expecting to be shot. Johnny cringed. Tommy’s eyes snapped to where the shots had come from, wide with shock and fury.  

Lizzie came barreling down the steps leading to the front door. The gun she’d just fired into the sky waved wildly at all of them. Her eyes were bulging and she was screaming, demanding that they all get away. 

“This is my house! And I don’t want you back. I don’t want you back!” She looked half out of her mind, the gun aimed squarely at Tommy’s chest. Lucy stared at her in shock. Fear locked around her throat when for one terrible moment, she actually thought that Lizzie might pull the trigger. 

Tommy recovered first from the silence and stillness that the outburst had stunned them all into. With quick footsteps, he walked his way over to Lizzie. Lucy tensed, half rising her rifle towards Lizzie when she didn’t lower the gun, panicking that Tommy’s approach would trigger her to fire.

But she didn’t, and he ripped the gun from her hand with ease, opening the chamber and dumping all the remaining golden bullets out onto the drive. Lizzie smiled spitefully, rabidness still gleaming in her eyes. 

Tommy stuffed the emptied gun into the front of his trousers, then stalked over to Aberama to snatch away the rifle still held limply in his hand. It seemed that the shock of Lizzie’s intervention had drained all his remaining will and strength, leaving him swaying dangerously on his feet. His face was pale, left arm limp at his side.

“You wanna take on the Billy Boys? You need me alive,” Tommy said to him, then turned to fix his gaze pointedly at Lizzie, voice raising. “Everyone fucking needs me,” he said, no small amount of bitterness enveloping the words. Lizzie sneered at him, hate shining bright in her eyes. Lucy wondered if she actually would have had it in her to shoot him. If maybe she even had wanted to. 

But her interruption had allowed Tommy to seize back control over the situation. Aberama slumped against a nearby stone bench with a soft groan, while Tommy ordered Lizzie back inside to call an ambulance for him. She gave each of them individually a look of deep contempt, but did as she was told, turning to stalk back into the house. 

“Stay with him,” Tommy said to Lucy while he moved to haul Johnny inside. She nodded, shouldering her rifle and going to sit beside Aberama. They sat in silence, watching as Tommy helped a sobbing Johnny through the front door. Aberama’s breathing was wheezing and labored. 

It was quiet inside the house for a while, likely as Tommy got Johnny settled in one of the rooms. But then there was muffled shouting, both Tommy and Lizzie’s voices distinctive in their raised volumes. 

“Do they always argue like that?” Aberama asked softly after a few minutes passed and the yelling didn’t cease.

“Yes,” Lucy mumbled, staring down at her hands. Tommy finally came outside at the sound of the ambulance approaching, speaking to the driver in a low voice before helping them to load Aberama into the back. 

“What about Johnny?” she asked, standing beside Tommy and watching as the ambulance pulled away.

“Maisie, Clara, and Sandra are taking care of him.”

She nodded. Their maids were no stranger to setting bones and sewing up wounds.

“That letter the Billy Boys left that Aberama threw at me,” Tommy began, “it was written in the same style and handwriting as the one that was on the scarecrow in the field with the landmines.”

Lucy’s eyes widened. In her mind, she could see Bonnie, strung up on a cross not unlike the scarecrow out in the field. “Oh…” she swallowed, throat suddenly dry. “At least we know who left us them, then.”

Tommy hummed. She looked over at him worriedly and reached out to rub his shoulder. “Johnny’s not a traitor.” There was a list–albeit a very short one–of the few people whom she knew in her bones would never betray them. Johnny Dogs was on that list. 

“Agreed.”

“So how did the Billy Boys find them?”

“I don’t know,” he shook his head. Lucy looked out across the grounds, towards where the thick smattering of trees began on the property. Her lip caught between her teeth.

“Maybe it was just bad luck.”

“Do you really believe that?”

“No,” she sighed, reaching up a hand to run over her hair. “Not really.”

“Come on,” he brushed a hand across her shoulder. “Let’s get inside.”

She followed him back into the house. While he went to go check up on Johnny, she returned her rifle to the armory. Just as she was closing it up, she heard heels clicking against the floor. Protectiveness flared fiercely inside her at the memory of Lizzie brandishing the revolver in Tommy’s face.

She told him she doesn’t care if he dies.

The wrath that had briefly been extinguished by Aberama’s arrival returned in full force.

Slamming the cupboard closed, she turned sharply, walking with rapid steps towards where Lizzie was standing in the doorway. Grabbing her firmly by one wrist, she started to half drag her into one of the adjoining sitting rooms. 

“Lucy!? Ow! What the fuck!?” Lizzie cried, and Lucy yanked her through the door, closing it behind them hard enough to nearly rattle the frame. The moment that she let Lizzie go, Lizzie took a step back from her, rubbing at the wrist she’d been gripping. 

“You and I need to talk,” Lucy said, eyes blazing.

Lizzie’s throat worked, drawing herself up to her full, towering height. But there was a flicker of uncertainty in her eyes.

Lucy took a step forward, and when she spoke, her voice was icy calm. “You will never point a gun at him like that again. Ever. Do you understand me?”

Lizzie’s jaw worked, but she didn’t reply, instead just fixing Lucy with a defiant, stubborn expression. Lucy scoffed. 

“Enough of this. Alright? Enough.” She was so angry she was nearly shaking, but thankfully no tremor found its way into her voice. “Enough with the crying. And complaining. And the fucking temper tantrums every other bloody week.” She shook her head back and forth. “What are you doing? Do you really think that being hateful to me and using your daughter to hurt him is going to endear him towards you? Really? That’s your great master plan to make him fall in love with you?”

Lizzie let out a hiss and turned away, cheeks reddening.

“You fucking idiot.” Now that the words were pouring out, she couldn’t stop them. “If you’re going to leave, fine. Fucking leave. But don’t just sit around here, crying and complaining and dragging the rest of us down with you.”

“I do not–”

“Yes, you fucking do, Lizzie! God! It’s like living with a fucking see-saw! Do you understand? Do you realize how exhausting it is? And now on top of every other fucking thing I have to do, I have to worry about you pointing fucking guns at him, and telling him that your daughter’s scared of him.”

Lizzie shrank in on herself a little.  

“You know, I see two possibilities here: either you’re a terrible mother, who has willingly brought your child back into an environment where you know she’s uncomfortable and frightened. Or, you were just saying that because you wanted to hurt him as deeply as you know how.”

Lizzie’s eyes met hers sheepishly, and she had the answer that she already knew. 

“Despite everything, I know you’re not a terrible mother. You’d never have brought her back here if you genuinely thought she was scared of him.”

Lizzie still said nothing, eyes staring back into Lucy’s, defiance slowly ebbing from them at being caught in her lie. 

“You know how much he loves her,” Lucy shook her head. “You know that he would do anything for her. How could you do that to him?”

Lizzie at least had the decency to look a little guilty. “I’m sorry–”

“Oh please. No you’re not!” Lucy laughed humorlessly. “You always fucking do this, Lizzie. You throw some big, grand temper tantrum and then you act all apologetic after the fact. As if that immediately absolves you of everything. It doesn’t. My guilt can’t absolve me of the crime of fucking your husband, and your apologies cannot erase the hurt that you’ve caused. Especially when you keep doing it over and over again.”

She drew in a deep, harsh breath at the end of her rant, taking a step away from Lizzie. Stalking to the windows, she looked out at the dark grounds, fingers toying with each other. In the reflection in the glass, she could see Lizzie still standing motionless in the same spot she’d been in while Lucy yelled at her. Staring at the wall as she processed her words. Lucy wrapped her arms around herself, returning her gaze to outside. Even as she felt Lizzie finally look over at her. 

“You’re scaring me, Lucy,” she said finally in a quiet voice. 

Lucy took no pleasure in the statement, tongue darting out to wet her lips. Looking down, she nodded once to herself. 

“Good.” She turned to face Lizzie. “I think that you’ve forgotten who exactly it is you’re dealing with, here.”

Lizzie stared at her with wide, wounded eyes, and Lucy felt a stab of guilt for how harsh she’d been. But she shoved it away. Because when it came to protecting Tommy, nothing else mattered. 

“Pull yourself together,” she commanded, raising her chin. “Or I will put an end to the entire fucking thing. You know I can. All I have to do is ask him to leave you, and he will. Like that,” she snapped her fingers. The crack seemed to echo throughout the room. “I’m almost fucking there, Lizzie. Because you can hurt me and take jabs at me and say as much hateful shit about me behind my back as you want. But you’re hurting him now. And I won’t allow that.”

The look Lizzie fixed her with was wounded and angry, but also contemplating. Lucy wondered if, just maybe, she had gotten through to her a little.

“We’re friends, Lucy,” Lizzie said, after another moment of silence. For some reason, Lucy found the idea hilarious, bursting into a round of helpless, quiet giggles and shaking her head. 

“No. No; we’re not. That was just a pipe dream.”

Lizzie shuffled a step closer to her. “That’s not true.”

“You’re just saying that to manipulate me. Like you always have. You’ve never actually given a shit about me. It’s all just been about trying to get closer to him.”

“No…it hasn’t…”

“Do you really not see how I may have started to think that every time you’re nice to me, it’s only because you want something?”

Lizzie looked down at her hands, ringing them together. “I love him, Lucy,” she finally said helplessly. 

“No,” Lucy whispered, shaking her head furiously. “Tell me, how exactly did you phrase it, Lizzie? When you were talking about your concerns regarding his potential death? How did you say it?” Her voice had dropped so low it was a miracle Lizzie could hear her. When Lizzie didn’t immediately respond, she raised an eyebrow. “Tell me,” she coaxed. Lizzie shifted from foot to foot uncomfortably. 

“I said, I’ll need to know there will be something left.”

Lucy blinked slowly, letting the words sink in and digest. “I need to know there will be something left,” she repeated back at her. Lizzie let out a shaky breath. Lucy shook her head. Her voice remained soft. “No. I don’t know what the fuck this is, but it isn’t love. Someone who loves someone wouldn’t be so focused on making sure that there will be things left for them when faced with the idea of their love’s death.”

Lizzie looked down at her hands. Lucy examined her face, watching the way that her expression fell to one of confliction and exhaustion. She raised a hand to wipe at her eyes, breaths turning shaky.

Lucy inhaled sharply, pulling away before she could allow herself to feel too terrible for making her cry, heading for the door without another word. 

She found Tommy in one of the upstairs bedrooms with Johnny, standing by the window and smoking as the maids finished bandaging Johnny’s ribs. 

“You alright?” she asked Johnny, coming to stand by the bed. He gave her a weak smile. 

“Hurts like a bitch to breathe, but I’ll live.” He looked at the maids tending to him. “Especially with these lovely beauties to look after me, eh?”

Sandra blushed and looked down at her hands. Maisie and Clara–both more seasoned and familiar with Johnny’s antics–chuckled and fondly rolled their eyes. 

“Good,” Lucy gave him a light pat on the shoulder before going over to Tommy. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders with a heavy sigh, reaching over to stub his cigarette out in a nearby ashtray. 

“Right, Johnny. If you’re alright, we’re going to go to bed.”

Johnny nodded, waving them away. Tommy took her hand, and they began the walk to their room. 

“He have anything significant to say?” Lucy asked.

“Nothing useful.”

“Mm.” That wasn’t that surprising. “I don’t like the connection to the Billy Boys. Especially after that whole business between them and Michael. It reeks of…something.”

“Yes, it does.”

“I talked with Lizzie.”

“Oh?”

“Yelled at her, is probably the more appropriate description,” she paused as he opened the door to their room, holding it wide for her to duck inside first. Trouble was curled up on the bed, asleep, though she stirred and meowed at them after Lucy flicked on the lights. Tommy closed the door behind them. “I feel a little bad about it, now.” 

“Don’t be. She’s needed a good talking to for awhile, now.”

“You don’t even know what I said to her.” She moved to sit at her vanity to take off her earrings. They settled in the little dish she kept them in with a clink. 

Tommy kissed her on top of the head, undoing the buttons on his waistcoat. “I trust you.”

Lucy smiled, grabbing a cloth to start wiping away her makeup. The smile faded quickly. “Things between you and her are getting worse.”

“Now what gave you that idea?” He flashed her a humorless smile that came out as more of a grimace, then sighed. “I’ll deal with it.”

“She pointed a gun at you.”

“She did.” 

She parted her lips to speak, then paused, considering her words before finally deciding to utter them. “If she had shot you, I would have killed her.”

Tommy glanced over at her, and smiled sadly. He reached out, resting a hand at the base of her neck, drawing her close so he could press a kiss to her lips. “I know, love.”

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[hxzbinwrites]

Hi! I just saw that requests are open, yeah!! I'd like to request an Alastor x fem!Reader where Vox has a crush on her so he sends her a set of different tea flavor as a gift. The problem is that these contain a drug that inhibits the person (thanks, Valentino). Basically, his plan was to wait for her to drink the tea and then show up at the hotel and seduce her so he could have her for himself (my boy thinks she loves him, lol). The problem is that she had graciously offered the tea to Alastor, who drinks it. Vox asks her if she enjoyed the tea she lies saying it was delicious so he immediately shows up at the hotel but ends up finding Alastor who is being super affectionate with her, revealing his true feelings for her. Eventually Alastor attacks Vox as soon as he sees him forcing the other to flee. Fluff and comedy, basically. xD

Alastor x Fem! Reader x Vox | Tea Time Troubles

Warnings ⚠️:  Cussing, drugs, controlling and manipulative Vox, out of character Alastor.

"I dunno 'bout this Voxxy" Valentino said, handing him a baggie of the drug, a weak aphrodisiac lining the walls of the bag.

"Don't worry about me Valentino, I'll be fine" Vox reassured him, holding the bag up to his screened face. He smirked deviously as he put his hands behind his back.

"But you tell me all the time 'bout 'public image' and all that shit." Valentino retorted, crossing his lower arms against his stomach.

"Don't you worry your pretty little face about it Honey" Vox sneered, rubbing his cheek in a falsely affectionate way. "Vox is a big boy and can handle himself. I just gotta put this into some tea bags. (Y/n) WILL be MINE."

"Ugh" The moth groaned, taking a puff of his cigar,"She's not even worth it. She hangs out with radio, fossil trash. If she was good shed know who to choose. Besides, I'm better than she is, right?"

"You're wrong." Vox said, his left eye radiating hypnotizing waves out of anger,"(Y/n) is perfect. She's everything, and she will be mine."

Vox's demonic laughter could be heard across the building, sending chills down anyone who heard it's spine.

--------

"Honey!!" (Y/n) exclaimed, holding up the box of tea that arrived at their house,"Your tea shipment came!"

Alastor, who was reading the paper at the kitchen table, looked over to see his dear (Y/n) carrying two large cardboard boxes.

He teleported over, making his shadows place them atop of the counter. His keen eyes narrowed at the second box, seemingly almost identical to the first one.

"How peculiar!" Alastor said, tapping his cane on the second box, almost poking it as if it was a foreign object.

"What's peculiar about it?" The fellow deer demon asked, peering over at the box her partner was so intrigued by.

"I did not order two shipments of tea from the catalogue this month!" He replied, his smile tightening in irritation. Could someone be trying to plant something in this hotel? Trying to hurt any of his friends, his beloved, or him?

"Maybe it's a promo box?" (Y/n) suggested,"I mean, you are a loyal customer of theirs. Maybe they want you to try a new product, I hear that's the new rage."

"Ah" Alastor replied, walking closer to the counter to rip open the second box to be met with a letter and a large box of tea.

"Thank you for your loyalty Mr. Alastor. We're reaching out to our most loyal customers to give this Promo box to! We're asking that you try our newest flavor, a (your favorite flavor) but with a twist! Despite the erratic sounds at night in Hell, this tea should help you fall right asleep! If you enjoy it, please promote so on your beloved Radio Show!"

"I was right!" The doe said, looking up at her partner,"They must've given it to you because they know you're famous and can promote their tea! Very smart people, I wanna try one tomorrow!"

"Tomorrow? Why not today my doe?" Alastor said, looking down at his partner.

"My stomach isn't feeling the best. Charlie's cake wasn't fully cooked through, but I didn't want to be rude and not eat it. Especially because no one else was!"

Alastor chuckled, petting her sensitive ears. "Now now (Y/n), you should've listened to me! I know all!"

"Al..." She said, batting her eyes up at him,"Do you mind trying it for me? I wanna know if it's good, but I don't want to throw up in my sleep!"

"Why should I?" He inquired, smirking down at (Y/n). "It seems like this predicament could've been easily avoided my little doe! Hahaha!"

"Please" She softly asked, smiling at him back.

"I suppose I can try one cup of it." He said, sitting down at the table, fully expecting (Y/n) to make him the cup as he finished reading his paper.

She giggled at him and began to start the kettle. Moments like these can't be replaced, a docile and homey moment between the two of them. (Y/n) loved seeing this side of him. The Alastor side of him, not the Radio Demon.

(Y/n) opened the smaller box that was enclosed in the large one, picking out the first tea bag. She smelled the bag, the fumes of blended herbs wafting in her nostrils. It smelled lovely, she would've to drink one alongside Alastor.

But she held back on picking up another bag, knowing its sleeping effects. (Y/n) really didn't want to throw up while in her sleep, and potentially on Alastor, who would be as knocked out as her.

Sighing, she finished preparing the tea, pouring it in Alastor's favorite teacups, the one (Y/n) gifted him on their second anniversary many years ago.

She walked back over to him, placing the teacup on his saucer, putting the sugar cube in as well.

"Thank you dearest" Alastor said, his eyes skimming over the newspaper,"I shall be in our room in a moment, why don't you go ahead and get in your nightwear?"

"Alrighty" (Y/n) replied, patting the back of Alastor's chair. That was something the two of them did, (Y/n) knew when to touch Alastor and when to not. Still wanting to show him affection, she'll pat an object close to him.

Alastor gave her a soft smile before returning his focus to the newspaper.

The doe walked up the stairs in the hotel to their shared room. She got in her fluffy pajamas, completed each and every step to her skincare routine, and crawled into bed with a book.

The silence was only broken by the occasional turn of a page, this was (Y/n)‘s daily quiet time, as Alastor liked to read the paper before turning in for the night.

This normally is for about an hour, but tonight it was a mere 30 minutes as the door busted open.

The doe yelped, her skittish nature causing her to flinch at the sudden jolt of noise. Her partner flittered into the room before crawling on top of her, his eyes droopy from the affect.

“Hi sugar” He said, burying his face in the crook of her neck. His ears were pressed against his head as he affectionately nuzzled (Y/n). Alastor grabbed her waist and flipped her on top of him, allowing him to bring her closer to his body, her chest atop of his.

“Al-Alastor?!” (Y/n) exclaimed, tensing up. What has gotten into him!? He’s not one to ever make such…bold advances.

“Oh my love” He said, a dreamy lilt in his voice,”you’re just perfection incarnate. Such a lovely little fawn you are.”

Blushing heavily, she let him rest himself on her, snuggling contently. It was rather peaceful, she did not know where this sudden chance of behavior came from, but it certainly wasn’t the worst by far.

(Y/n)’s ears perked up hearing a notification sound ding from her phone. She slowly grabbed it to check what it was.

Alastor was not very keen on allowing this sort of technology in the house, especially knowing Vox is over all of it. So they made a compromise, he’d take out the camera and microphone and she could have the phone.

Seeing it was a message from Vox, she opened it.

Vox: “Hey sweetheart, I pulled a few strings and got a shipment of some new tea of (your favorite flavor) that was being tested. How did you like it baby?”

(Y/n): Oh, it was good, thanks!

Vox: Just good? You sure sweet stuff? Wasn’t it so good you could just kiss the lips off of the person who got it for you?

(Y/n) sighed, shutting her phone off and curling up with her lover.

“I think that’s a yes!” Vox said, throwing his hands in the air ceremoniously. He quickly put on his best bow tie, in hopes it would get taken off by fingers other than his, and made his way towards the Hazbin Hotel.

————

Vox searched through each room until he found the one you and Alastor shared.

He scowled at the door, seeing a heart with the initials scribed on it “(Y/i) + A”

Pathetic. He could give you so much more than that. He could give you the most advanced technological sign known to mankind just for some silly initials, not some shitty hard with nearly illegible handwriting.

He opened the door, his signature smirk dropping as he saw Alastor, his arch nemesis (in Vox’s eyes) peppering small little kisses all over (Y/n)‘s face, making her giggle.

“WHAT THE FUCK?!” Vox yelled, his face was blue-screening.

Alastor took one look at the fellow Overlord and let out a long string of laughter, sitting up as he pulled (Y/n) into his lap.

“Vox?! What are you doing here?!”

“YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO BE THE ONE TO DRINK THE TEA!! AND THEN YOU’D BE MINE!!”

Alastor hooked a arm around (Y/n)‘s waist, looking at his opponent across the room.

“This is my doe, my love, and we all know if she would’ve drank the tea, she would’ve always chosen me.”

Lets just say, the power around the Pride Ring went out after that comment.

————

Word Count 1,524

[sinner-as-saint]

drag me under

Father Charlie Mayhew x Reader 

Run-through: After what has to be one of the most exhausting and exasperating meetings he’s ever had with the Bishop and Mother Superior, Father Charlie desperately needs a quick release. It was wrong, he knew and he’d repent for it later. Except, what he thought was going to stay as a secret between him and God ends up involving a third witness – you. 

Themes: smut, explicit language, mentions of infidelity, degrading kink

Fuck. He was close. 

He’d shut himself inside the confessional booth a few minutes ago because he absolutely needed to get his mind off certain things. Those meetings always left him feeling like a damned pressure cooker, and he always needed to let out some steam after. 

All that arguing, and having to keep his cool and maintain composure when all he wanted to do was yell and tell them all that he was right and they were wrong. It had to be the generational gap, but sometimes he felt like he was being tortured with how much his mindset differed from those of his superiors. Why couldn’t they just let him do things his way? 

But he pushed all that aside for a moment. Just a moment, that’s all he needed. Fist wrapped around his throbbing cock, his spit and precum giving him just the right amount of lubricant, his head thrown back against the thick wood as he worked his fist up and down his cock, as fast as he could. 

He tried to keep his gasps and moans as quiet as possible. It was late in the afternoon, there wouldn’t be anyone around during this time, but just in case. A groan left his lips anyway, and he bit his lip immediately after. 

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck… 

He could hear how fast his fist moved, the friction was almost just as good as how he remembered sinking into a warm body felt like. Almost, not quite as exhilarating though. 

Fuck! 

A few more tugs, a couple more unrestrained moans later, and he came with a loud sigh. Spilling all over his hand, gasping for breath as he blinked a couple times, already feeling his thoughts flowing much easier. His all black suit, his collar around his neck didn’t feel as tight and constricting anymore. 

He quickly cleaned himself up with a handkerchief he’d have to put in the trash later, he sighed one more time as he made sure to fix his clothes and was about to walk out of the booth when he heard a timid, soft, almost hesitant voice ask: 

“Are you done, Father?” 

He froze. 

Shit. 

He cleared his throat. It sounded like a young woman on the other side. He tried to look but the screen only allowed him a partial view of your face. Okay, okay, don’t panic. He could still get out of this situation. Maybe you didn’t hear what he was doing. Maybe you’d just gotten in here. Maybe you were too naive to even know what those sounds were. 

He cleared his throat again, “How, uh, how long have you been waiting for?” He tried his hardest to sound apologetic for making you wait. 

A moment of silence. Then you replied, “Long enough.” 

That voice. He knew that voice, didn’t he? 

He said your name out loud. A pause then, “Is it you?” He asked. 

A sigh. Then, “Yes, Father.” 

Ah. He let out a quiet breath, relieved. 

He had no reason to worry if it was you. You were what he called a lost little lamb, too innocent for her own good. He knew your family. They were nice people who frequented the church, and lately your parents had been worried about you since they found out that you had a troublesome boyfriend who was nowhere near the god-fearing type your family wanted you to date. 

He also knew that you, unlike your parents, were not seen very often at church. He saw you here and there, sometimes at charity events, or sometimes at the tennis court with your mom. But never in the confessional booth. 

Father Charlie sat up straight, looked ahead at the wooden door and asked, “This is your first confession?” 

“Yes, Father.” 

“And what would you like to confess?” He asked, knowing he was going about this all wrong. No signs of the cross, no ‘Bless me Father for I have sinned’, but he was impatient and… intrigued. What could a shy, timid girl like you have to confess?

“I… I slept with my boyfriend.” 

He couldn’t help but turn towards the screen. He watched you as you fidgeted and squirmed. “Did you?” He didn’t recognise his own voice. 

“Yes, Father.” You answered. “But that’s not all.” 

“Oh?” 

A trembled sigh left your lips, then you said, “While we were, um, when he was...” You struggled to speak. 

And Father Charlie felt weirdly interested all of a sudden, so he urged, “It’s okay, you’re safe here.” He cooed gently, using the soothing voice he always used with everyone. “Use your big girl words, come on. When he was, what?” 

“Father, I cannot say it.” Your words sounded heavy with shame. 

So he urged you even further, “Like I said, you’re safe here. Now tell me. When he was, what? On top of you? Fucking you? What happened, did he hurt you?” 

“No,” You said quickly. “No, he was… gentle.” 

Father Charlie raised an eyebrow, “And?” 

You let out a shaky breath and confessed, “I wanted him to…” You trailed off, “I know it’s wrong to want these kinds of things, but I didn’t want him to be gentle. I wanted him to be rough. To make it hurt.” 

Another shaky breath left your lips, and this time Father Charlie felt like he was the tormented one. He frowned as he looked down and noticed that he was hard again. Shit. 

He cleared his throat again. “I see.” 

But you were quick to add, “It’s wrong, isn’t it? To want things like that? Isn’t it, Father?” 

There was a strangely innocent desperation in your voice even as you referred to sinful things. The kind of innocence he wanted to take into his hands and crumble it into pieces but also preserve it at the same time. 

Fuck, he was hard. And it was painful because you were right there. 

“Depends,” He answered, “What other things do you find yourself wanting?” A small, quiet gasp left your mouth. Father Charlie caught himself smirking at the sound of it. “And don’t lie. I can’t help you if you lie.” He noticed movement on the other side of the screen. Maybe your hand touching your neck out of nervousness. 

“I… I like being told what to do. I like authority. I like…,” You gasped, as if not believing you were actually saying all this out loud, “I like it, I mean I like the idea of men being mean to me, in bed. I want them to take what they want from me, with consent of course. But I don’t want them to be gentle about it.” 

Oh fuck. 

“That’s, uh…” He found himself at a loss for words. His cock was making his trousers tighter. His hands were shaking with the need to grab and feel a warm body. Preferably that of a shy young woman who thought she should be ashamed of her desires. “Yes, that’s not right.” He did his best to sound stern and disappointed. 

A soft sound came from the other side. Sounding a lot like a sniffle. “I’m sorry, Father.” You whispered, just loud enough for him to hear. “I should go.” 

It all happened too quickly. The sound of the door opening, the sound of you trying to rush and get out. Before he knew it, he was out of the booth as well and stopping you from leaving. Your wrist in his hand, his chest heaving, tears down your face, a shocked look in your eyes. 

“Did I say you could leave?” He asked, looking down at you and noticing the way you didn’t even fight him. Aww, a lost little lamb indeed. 

“No.” You whispered, going along with the movement as he walked you backwards until your back hit the nearest wall, beside the booth. 

“You’re disobedient,” He noted, “I should punish you for that.” 

“Yes,” You mumbled, like you were ready to be punished for your sins. 

“Yes, what?” He chided. 

“Yes, Father.” 

And oh, how he would’ve loved to have you on your knees in front of him. To have his cock in your mouth. To make real tears stream down your face, ruining your makeup. But he didn't have too much time. 

He stepped closer, trapping you between the wall and his hard body. He noted the way your eyes remained fixated on his white collar, those teary, innocent eyes. You didn’t even know the treasure you were. 

“Look at me,” He ordered. 

You did. Unable to look away once you did. 

“You’ve been a bad girl, you know that, don’t you?” He asked. You nodded at him. “And I need to punish you, because I need to make sure you’re good from now on, don’t I?” You nodded at his words again. “Good,” He whispered, then grabbed both your hands and placed them on his shoulders as he leaned in and pressed his mouth to yours. 

He fucking that little gasp of surprise that left your mouth as he kissed you, hot and messy. His hands reached down and bunched your dress up before he slipped his hand in between your legs.

He chuckled into the kiss when he felt your flimsy underwear. “See now, good girls don’t wear things like this. You understand?” He whispered, running his knuckles along your wet folds and smearing your arousal around through the thin fabric. “I’m gonna have to take it off, okay?” 

You nodded again. 

And he did, he slid your underwear down until it fell to your ankles. He watched as you stepped out of them and he immediately slid his knee in between your legs, followed by his hand again. “This is all part of your punishment,” He whispered into your ear, and watched how you shivered upon feeling his warm breath. He slipped his two fingers into you with ease and smirked against your skin as he felt your arousal coating his fingers, which he curled inside of you, hitting all the spots which made you gasp and moan.

You whimpered and closed your eyes, sighing and moaning when he leaned down and nibbled on your skin around your throat. He chuckled, sliding his fingers in and out of you, “See what a little slut you are? Cheating on your boyfriend, and letting me touch you however I please,” He scoffed, “Is this what you came to do? Was this your intention?” 

You bucked your hips against his hand impatiently. “Please,” You murmured. 

He pulled his fingers out, and messed with his belt, undoing it and the zipper on his trousers until he pulled his cock out. “Please what?” He asked, rubbing his wet fingers along his hard cock, “Huh? What do you want?” 

You looked up at him, pleading with your eyes. 

“Oh?” He taunted, “You want this cock? Huh?” He leaned in and grabbed your face, squeezing your cheeks together, his lips brushing against yours as he spoke in a lowered voice that sent shivers down your back, “Does this little slut need a cock in her?” 

“Yes,” You murmured, unable to take it anymore. 

“Yes, what?” He growled. 

“Yes, Father.” You quickly corrected yourself. 

He smirked, smug. Then he lifted you up until you instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist, your back against the wall, and the two of you partially hidden by the booth. His cock briefly brushed against your wet folds in the process and you moaned out loud. 

“Shh,” He reminded you, “Quiet.” 

“Please,” You whined, eyes shut. “Please, Father…” 

“Shut up,” He hissed as he aligned his throbbing tip with your entrance. “Shut your needy little mouth up.” 

You moaned as he pushed himself into you. Stretching you out as he went. His nails digging painfully into your skin as he held you by your hips, and yours sliding into his hair as he filled you up nicely. 

“So fucking wet for me…” He whispered against your cheek as he rocked in and out of you. “I bet you’re not this wet for your little boyfriend, huh? Does he feel this good? This big?” He chuckled. “Does he know you let random men fuck you?” 

You were a mess, moaning and whimpering when he began moving in and out of you. His cock reached places that had you whining out loud. 

“Shh,” He hissed again, “Shut up, you little slut. Shut the fuck up.” He groaned as he fucked you. He kept an eye on your surroundings, just in case someone wandered in. 

But you kept moaning like crazy so he did the only thing his lust-filled brain could think of, he brought out his soiled handkerchief from earlier and shoved it in your mouth, and slapped his hand over your mouth. “Yeah, that’ll shut your filthy mouth up, huh? Is this what you wanted? Your boyfriend doesn’t fuck you like the needy little whore you are, does he?” 

Your moans sounded muffled now, and he fucked you relentlessly, earning more and more muffled whines and moans and whimpers out of you each time his cock stroked your walls. He loved the way your eyes rolled back when he fucked you harder, reaching deeper. 

He pounded into you as fast as he could, your back slamming into the wall with each thrust. “Filthy girl.” He sped up into you again, making you cry out. “So fucking desperate, aren’t you? You couldn’t help but spread your legs for me, huh? Even for a man of God? You couldn’t help it.” He taunted. “What else would you do for me? Would you come here everyday and let me have you? Hmm? Would you let me fuck your needy little pussy like your boyfriend can’t?” 

He knew you couldn’t answer him, so he chuckled and continued as he felt your walls clench around his cock. Fuck, he had missed this. He’d missed making a beautiful girl lose control while he was inside her. He knew you couldn’t think right, he was so fucking deep inside you that all you could do was whine and cry, and let him take what he wanted from you. Which is exactly what he did. He didn’t stop. He kept fucking you harder and faster against the wall. 

His hand left your mouth, making sure his handkerchief remained nice and snug in there, and reached down until he wrapped his fingers around your throat, he squeezed just enough to make your eyes widen. “Yes,” He goaded you, “You like that, don’t you? Your messed up little head likes this,” He taunted. “It’s filthy in there, isn’t it? You think about these things at night? When you touch yourself before going to bed? Is this what you’ll be thinking about from now on?” 

Your body shuddered, trembling in pleasure. He looked down and noticed the slight cleavage of your sweet little dress. Fuck, he wished he had time to really peel it off your body and have you crawl around naked just so he could look at you. He was sure he could spend a lot of time just looking. 

“He doesn’t fuck you like this, does he?” He chuckled, his body moving expertly against yours, “No, how could he? He’s just a boy. He wouldn’t even know what to do with a dirty girl like you.” He leaned in, whispering against your wet cheek, “This is what you needed. I’m what you need.” 

Your mind was a foggy mess already, and he could tell by the muffled by wanton moans that he could still hear that you were so, so close. 

“I bet he doesn’t even come inside you, does he?” He scoffed, “I think he’d be too scared to do that.” He pulled away and looked into your eyes. “But you want me to come inside you, don’t you? Remember, it’s all part of your punishment. You wanna be a good girl and take all of it, don’t you?” 

You nodded quickly, more tears streaming down your face. 

“Go on then, you little slut. Come for me. Come all over this cock like the needy, desperate whore you are.” He let out a strained moan, “I said,” He spoke, menacingly, “Come for me!” 

Your body tensed up, legs tightening around his waist, hands tugging at his hair, before you let go and came undone around his cock. Walls clenching around him, nails scratching his neck and a loud muffled moan erupting from your mouth as he made you come hard. 

Father Charlie groaned as he came shortly after, spilling inside of you. And fuck, even he could feel how much he filled you up. 

He pulled the now wet cloth out of your mouth as you both felt his warm cum dripping down your inner thighs. He replaced the handkerchief with his fingers, gliding two of them across your tongue, in and out of your lips as he said, “You’ll come back, won’t you?” He whispered against the corner of your mouth as you caught your breath while sucking on his fingers. “Now that you got a taste of what it’s like, you’ll be back as often as you can just to let me fuck you again. Won’t you, little lamb?” 

—

a/n: call me sister megan bc i’m frothing–

[hazelfoureyes]

The Radio Demon Fucks a Human Sacrifice (part 4)

⟢ part1♡̶sidestory♡̶part2♡̶part3♡̶part4 ⟣

7k words of a fever dream, happy Sunday, sinners ✨💦 I really hope you like it 🥺💖

You were back, unexpectedly but welcomed nonetheless. But now Alastor finds himself in a new kind of hell. There was, unfortunately for him, no killing what he felt when he looked at you.

{Warnings/Promises: Smut, Ace spectrum Alastor x FemReader, Alastor has feelings, creampie is the best nighttime snack, Angel is always the good guy, cervix punishment, mating press, Alastor demon form, Antlers go brrrr, drinking to forget, drowning (in cum)((and emotions)), discussions of murder, Alastor gets horny for discussions of murder, kinda breed kink if you squint, I saw a fan image of a hazbin hotel pool and it’s been stuck in my head for days.}

MINORS DNI (ah! Eh! I — stop. I see you. You know I see you, right? Get outta here! 🚨)

⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹

You were quick to stifle your smile, seeing Alastor standing in front of you with his hand outstretched. Why were you smiling? You were dead. Brutally so. And, You were in hell. But the corners of your mouth kept tugging upward at the sight of the stupid fucking deer demon before you. His own wild smile, eyes half lidded as he looked at you like he knew you.

You took his hand, needing the help standing. He fingers slipped from your palm and came to rub the velvet skin of your—- ears? You smacked his hand away, taking a step back.

The look he gave you, confusion? You weren’t sure, his head cocked to the side, hand lingering a beat longer in the air. He took a step toward you and you took one back.

Alastor laughed, “Quite the welcome, dear.”

You narrowed your eyes, did he know? Did he know you dreamt of him so many nights? That you struggled daily to not see his face behind your eyelids, not hear his lilting voice in your ear?

“Long time no see, Alastor.” You didn’t mean to sound quite so bored when you said it, you weren’t really sure at all what was going on in your head. You didn’t expect to see him so soon, literally immediately upon your death. You didn’t have time to recalibrate the mixed up feelings you had created for yourself over this stranger.  

You pined for months to see him again, trying so hard to push the memory of him as deep as you could. So deep, in fact, you found yourself tortured at night with fantasies of his company. Even during the day, your life was altered around him. You couldn’t listen to the radio, the odd static and reverb just forcing him back into your consciousness. You took long forest walks, thinking about hunters and deer. You wore that fucking robe for an embarrassingly long time, remembering being in another world entirely.

Alastor’s face fell, throat closing slightly as he thought he realized what was happening. You didn’t remember the time you’d spent with him. He had been enjoying lazy nights in his room and pleasurable times in the woods with a ghost. He took a step closer, maybe if he— maybe your body would remember? If you just smelled his bed, perhaps you’d stop acting so cold. If he could awaken the impressions he was sure he left on your soul, he could pick up where he left off. A comfortable companion. Kind eyes that only saw him. His name, sweet and low tumbling from your lips.

You hit the wall with your back, making distance from him. He hadn’t hurt you, but you couldn’t be sure what would happen now. Fantasies are no indication of a person’s real self. Your dream romps were just that— dreams. Fiction your mind produced to fill the gap in your life he somehow created in your short time together. Imagination fleshing out this unknown demon you couldn’t stop thinking about. 

His hand fell. There was a second his smile dropped, brows knitted. It came and it went, “Well! I best go get Charlie. She is the official welcome committee of the Hazbin Hotel, after all. Follow me.” The door swung open, his long arm gesturing.

Charlie pulled you into a hug, bouncing between “Welcome back!” And “I am so, so sorry you died!” She held your hands in hers, “The hotel has gone through a lot since you left! I have so much to show you. While Alastor has your room b…” her voice carried on, but your mind stayed put. She did jazz hands at every sconce and door frame on the way to the lobby.

You had expected it, your death. You figured there was a 50/50 chance you didn’t make it out of that forest. But that didn’t make this moment any less surreal. You looked down at your body, yours but new. Your hands came to your head, fingers climbing up your skull until you found them. Two soft, tulip petal shaped ears. Were you going to be sick? The room began to spin. Charlie’s voice underwater. Was some detective going to knock on your parent’s door? Carrying a folder with your photo and bad news? Your eyes clenched at the image, your heart ballooning in your chest.

“Maybe she needs to take a rest,” his voice cut through the waters of your confusion, a spear straight to your psyche. His hand slipped up your arm, resting on your back. You shook your head, eyes blinking wildly. 

“It’s fine. Please, Charlie, continue your tour.” You took an exaggerated step to your left, out from under his touch. You thought you heard him sigh. Why was he being so kind? The last time you spoke you were staring daggers at him while he carried on about doing exactly what he had promised.

Charlie excitedly presented the lobby to you, the bar, the library. Alastor walked a few feet behind you both, quiet, his shadow dancing down the hallway in front of you. It’s mouth flipping from grin to grimace and back as it watched you nod along to every detail Charlie felt you should know.

The newest addition to the hotel since you left, a large indoor pool on the second to top floor. You lingered there, watching the water reflect pink and red light from the floor to ceiling windows overlooking Pentagram City.

“Almost done! To the left is Dad’s studio. He comes and goes. Ya know, parent stuff.”

You tried to mask your concern for whatever damaged parent-child relationship she was referencing.

“And to the right is Alastor’s radio station.”

You glanced to the demon, standing near the wall, inspecting his nails. “I didn’t know he had a radio station. I just assumed-,” You shrugged, “He just sounded like that.”

Alastor felt his bottom lid of his left eye twitch involuntarily. Why were you speaking like he wasn’t there?

He bit his tongue, literally. He needed time to think, to plan how to handle this situation. Your death was early and therefore unexpected for him, too. Not nearly as surprising, though, as your loss of memory of him.

He knew though, maybe this was for the best. If you were here, if he could see you around the hotel, perhaps that desire to have you near would die down. His shadow shifted behind him before sinking into the floor. Yes, exactly. This was a good thing. His eyes glanced to you, to your little doe features, two ears and a tiny fluff of a tail. His jaw tightened, had you done it on purpose? What did it mean?

”Would you like to see it?” He didn’t recognize his own voice, because he hadn’t realized he was going to say it until it was done.

Yes. “No thank you.” You wanted to run face first into the wall. It felt like your ribs were twisting off your spine. One side lurched up—- touch him. He wants you, he felt so good. Get him alone. The other side pulling down—- fuck him. He owns you, he’s a demon. Stay away from him.

His ears turned back and down, folding into his skull. You tried to keep your face neutral as you stared back at him, breathing teetering on panting. Every time you looked at him you were in danger of spilling your guts. 

“Well!” Charlie slid into the tense air between you two, nervous chuckles, “That makes sense! Because Al’s station is super off limits. So. Uhh where was I going with this.” She looked around, “Is the room ready, Al?”

He nodded, leading you both to the elevator and a few floors down. 

“This floor is for our more precious residents. Not that every soul isn’t precious! But ya knooow,” she opened your door, “You’ve got Angel, Husk, Niffty, sometimes Cherri Bomb, and Alastor as neighbors!”

Yippee. You get to lie awake knowing the object of your fucked desire is just past an easily smashed wall.

There was a moment where you all three looked at each other. Charlie becoming more and more fidgety as the seconds ticked on.

“Sooo, We should let her rest, like you said, right Alastor?” Charlie began a dramatic walk to the bedroom door, taking big steps with high knees.

You needed to do this and let it be. “Actually, may I have a moment, Alastor?”

Always, Yes. “I suppose I have the time, my dear.” He twirled his microphone stand before settling it behind his back. Charlie wanted to ask you if you were sure, but the tension was rising again. She backed out of the room, pulling the door closed as she went.

Alone. Again. There was a feeling in the air, like you would either fuck or fight. Was it an animal thing? Or was it always there?

“I never got to thank you.”

His stomach turned, he couldn’t bear this again. Please, stop thanking him. Smile straining, struggling to keep it together, he nodded, “Whatever for?”

You had a strange feeling, a familiarity to the conversation. Ah, that was right. Would this end the same way as your dream? With you on your back? “You were — true to your word.” You fiddled with the comforter of the bed, avoiding looking at him. “You were gentle and you got me home safe and sound. I didn’t thank you. I was just so-,”

“Full of misplaced rage?” His head tilted to the left, eyebrows high.

“Just rage, would have been fine. It was an unfair situation that you helped get me out of.”

Alastor watched your face, only sadness to be found. Not a sight he took any pleasure in. “Well you should truly thank Angel Dust. He is the one who brought me to you, desperate to help you. Even offered me his soul! Not that it’s his to give.”

No one had told you. “Oh,” genuine surprise, “Thank you for that. Yeah, I have to thank him. I’d probably still be in Valentino’s—,” the light of the lamp beside the bed flickered, “studio.”

Looking at you, Alastor couldn’t decipher the feeling in his chest. Relief, sure. Shock, yes. But behind that, a strange tugging beneath his sternum. A pain, vague and nebulous floating over his chest. Why did you come back so soon? Why did you die so early? He wanted to ask you so many things, but if you didn’t retain any memory of your time with him, he doubted he would like the answers.

“I’m going to finish my mental breakdown now, thanks for the tour and uh, the information.” Scratching awkwardly at your arm, you went and opened the door. He paused a moment before moving. “I would like to see your radio station, sometime. If you’d want to show me.” He nodded and left. The room felt colder now, deader.

Your night went exactly how you anticipated, lying awake in the plush red blankets of your new home staring at the ceiling. You wondered if you slept, if you’d see him again. Thoughts of the overworld, family, connections. Little fits of rest came but nothing more than 30 minutes here and there. 

Alastor paced his room until dawn, an animal in an unlocked cage. When you had appeared, dead and truly in hell, he thought you’d come to see him. He was embarrassed to even think it now, he had believed you wanted to be with him in earnest.  As comfortable with his company as he was yours. He cradled his head, again he felt himself succumbing to the enjoyment of others. He had accepted it with you, more so than the rest, and now it was a weapon in your hands. He felt like an idiot. And he hated it. What a fool, to think you’d died to get home to him. A growl rising in his chest. Home. He desperately wanted to see Rosie, to vent the situation and find clarity. But the idea of leaving you alone in the hotel irked him. He couldn’t put his finger on why. Maybe you wouldn’t be here when he returned. He could always summon you with your connection to him, but he wanted you to be there, with him, of your own volition or he didn’t want it at all.

If you’d forgotten entirely, he had two courses of action. To start over, or to let it die. 

He looked to his bed, remembering you lying there. Sleeping, peaceful, content. Safe. Alastor turned to the wall, knowing you lied just beyond the wallpaper and sheet rock in your own deathbed, alone. The out of place physical need for you was something he struggled with, but whatever feeling this was — far worse. You were his, yet he couldn’t have you. Couldn’t possess you in the ways he’d grown accustomed to the past year. Starting over felt tedious. But this wasn’t a feeling that would die, he knew that. He could feel that by how deep the roots of his despair sunk into his soul when you looked at him like a stranger. 

He didn’t rest that night, and neither did you.

Maybe it was the deal, the connection between you and him, but no matter where you were in the hotel you could feel him. A sixth sense, his presence always on your radar. A small part of your brain power was always on him, focused on the idea of Alastor. You wandered the halls until the others woke, feeling that little string between the two of you. Taut, strong.

When you found Angel that first morning back, you took a seat beside him in the lobby. 

“Alastor told me you are why I got help. From Valentino.” You tried your best to maintain eye contact, not getting distracted by his arms.

“Don’t mention it, sweetheart. I kinda did it for myself, I wouldn’t have been able to sleep again if I just let it happen. I’m a freak but I ain’t sick in the head like Val.” He locked his phone, turning to you, “So do you always start passin’ out mid-convo or does Charlie’s voice just do something to ya?” 

You groaned, “Did she tell you that?”

“Well she panic-sang it, real worried about you. Did you get settled in yesterday?”

“I didn’t sleep, now that you mention it.” Angel laughed, taking you by surprise, “What?”

“Oh I’m sure you didn’t. Not with your co-star next door.” He winked, “I’m sure you’re happy to be here in the flesh.”

“Ugh I forgot about that. Did -,”

“Everyone see it? Yeah you’re a minor celebrity.” You took a throw pillow and screamed into it while he spoke, “But hey! At least you don’t gotta worry about crazy fans. Smiles will keep ‘em at bay.”

“Why would he do anything for me?” Pillow still over your face, you groaned, “I’m just a soul on his roster.”

“Ha I don’t think he treats just any soul the way he’s been treatin’ you. I think Husk would tell me.” Angel kicked his feet, “What a mental image! Does he have pubes? I feel like he does but they’re like, sharp? Like hostile somehow?”

Pillow down, “Ew, Angel! Hostile? How the fuck would I know?”

Angel stopped, wide eyed, “Oh is it a secret? Is that part of the deal?” A sinister giggle, “You can tell ole’ Angel Dust. We’re pals, remember? You technically owe me.” His many fingers poked at your sides, goading you.

You scrunched up your nose, swatting at his hands, “Angel, what are you talking about?”

His smile fell, now side eyeing you, he opened his mouth to ask you to stop playing coy when he heard you all those nights in Alastor’s room when Charlie burst into the lobby. 

“I am so sorry! I didn’t tell you about the redemption activities!” She tossed papers onto the coffee table, “Alright, plan Stairway to Heaven!”

Angel sat back, bored the juicy gossip had to wait, your attention fully occupied by Charlie’s sketches.

Alastor watched you from the second floor balcony. Over the next few days he would always be watching, either from the shadows or out in the open. Looking at you, that carnal hunger was gone. He felt no overpowering desire to be surrounded by you. But, now and then, you’d make a small noise or sigh and he would feel a little twitch. A muscle memory reaction to you

Where the need to touch you had faded, he instead found an insatiable hunger to be near you. He had thought it would be better, you at the hotel. But it had become worse. The further you were, the more undone he felt. It baffled him. So, he stayed near. You were almost always within earshot or eye sight. If not, he at least knew where you were. He could focus on the hotel and his plans for Charlie only then. 

You never looked at him, it was obviously on purpose. Even when he would take a seat beside you or across from you, you’d manage to glance everywhere but directly at Alastor. By the fourth day, he felt like he was going to snap. It was beginning to feel disrespectful. 

That fourth night when you again couldn’t sleep, you found yourself at the edge of the pool. Did people in hell swim? You’d been there for nearly two hours and not a single sinner appeared. It was well past midnight, though.

The entire room was tinged pink, shadows a pretty red. The water itself looked like a sea of rose quartz. You didn’t have a bathing suit. You didn’t have anything now that you thought about it. Nevertheless, you slipped into the water and let yourself float from the edge.

What a familiar feeling, floating. The ceiling shimmered with the water’s ever-moving reflection. Mind reeling back to the green glow casting your shadow on the ceiling of Valentino’s studio. You closed your eyes, you were always sinking it seemed. Sinking out of consciousness, into a another dream, out of the woods and into the bedroom of your captivator. The only times you felt weightless— ah, right. Body held up by shadows, cameras rolling. Under him, beneath the stars, sleeping form disconnected from your mind. It was always with him. You wondered for a second if you could sleep like this. What would happen if you drowned. Could you drown?

The carpet soaked with every step you took, your body sopping wet, clothes heavy with pool water. You were dragging your bare feet to the elevator when you saw a light coming from the ajar door to Alastor’s radio studio. 

He was looking over papers, monocle resting on his cheek. Alastor turned to you, taking note of your shoes in your hand and wet hair. Your ears were heavy with water, fine fur drooping with the weight. “You look like a drowned rat, my doe.”

“Don’t call me that,” you wiped your hair from your face, “I can’t sleep.”

You never struggled to sleep in his bed. “What did you do when you couldn’t sleep on earth?”

Your life already felt far in the rearview, either the effects of sleep exhaustion or your time in the underworld, “I slept… really well. Not a sleepless night I can remember.”

Alastor only hummed a response. Because all of your sleepless nights were here, with him. 

“Why are you working?”

“Why are you swimming?”

“I just told you.” Your brows knitted, was this a conversation or a riddle.

Ever present smile beamed back at you, “Well then take a guess!”

You stared at him, sitting at his curved desk with all his switches and buttons. Papers here and there. Just smiling at you. “Cool, thanks for the waste of time.” You turned to leave when you heard a low sound coming from his chest.

“Why do you speak to me like that? Avoid me?” He stood, hair sharp and standing at attention, “What have I done to you to deserve your disgust?”

“Nothing! That’s-,” the problem, “I’m just tired. I don’t feel right, like I misplaced something. There’s a nagging feeling, maybe something I forgot in the overworld.”

Alastor closed the gap between you two, “I can assure you everything you need is here.”

You rolled your eyes, “Yeah. Of course.” Turning to leave, his clawed hand reached for your wrist. Pulling you back, your wet clothes were now soaking into his suit.

His free hand took your chin and made you look up at him. Alastor’s red and pink eyes stared into yours, grin wider than you remembered seeing it before. You fixed your gaze on the desk behind him. “Look at me.” His voice cracked with a static interference. Your eyes finally came to his, your hand now holding his wrist just below your chin. “Don’t you dare look away.” He saw it, a flash of recognition flit across your now wide eyes. There was a pulse of electricity to your core, your body remembering his voice, those words, like an activation phrase. How did he know? Your thighs rubbed together, feet barely touching the ground as he held you close.

When his lips crashed into yours, you melted for a moment. Your body relaxed into him, a small whine slipping from your mouth to his. But then something in you snapped back, remembering he was a stranger holding your leash. You pulled his hand from your face with ease as your feet came back to the ground. Tugging your wrist free, you opened your mouth to yell at him, nothing but heavy breathing came out. Again, he reduced you to speechlessness. You glanced at his face before turning; he looked wounded.

You thought you heard his shoes shuffling along the carpet as you rushed into the elevator. A bang, a thrash, echoing down the elevator shaft as you descended to your floor. 

Did he think because you acquiesced to sex before, somewhat under the pressure of a worse fate, he could just kiss you anytime he wanted? Did he see you as a toy? 

Maybe being a toy would be nice. Maybe a good fuck would let you finally sleep. He did hit all the right places, those shadowy appendages never letting a single need go ignored…

You slammed your door shut, angrily peeling off your clothes. No, you weren’t a possession. You weren’t an object to be taken off the shelf at his convenience. No matter how much your body ached for his clawed hands and thin waist, you wouldn’t lower yourself to being under him. Not metaphorically, therefore not physically. You curled onto your bed, naked, body humming for him. Sleep came in pieces, fractured moments of rest.

“You look like shit.” Angel greeted you when the sun finally rose and everyone mulled around the hotel. You waited until you were sure the lobby bar wouldn’t be empty, you didn’t want to run into him alone. 

“How do you fucking sleep in this place? All night just screams and moans from the city.” You rested your cheek on the bar, “Husk, something with orange juice that’ll make me forget where I am, please.”

“The moans are my favorite. Speaking of moanin’ in the night-,” Angel was cut off.

“Get used to it. You sold your soul to a psychotic dick. Welcome to the club,” Husk’s tone was harsh, tilting into sardonic as he slid your drink to you.

With a huff, you sat up, “Don’t compare us. You sold your soul. I—,” you searched with your hands for the word, “was guilty of having a colossal cunt of an aunt.” A deep sip of your drink, “Fuck, he only got my soul because he made a deal with a different demon for it. Soul traded in like a used car. I’m the Kia Sorento of hell.”

Husk grumbled, “Yeah well, either way. Might as well get comfortable. We’re here for the long haul.”

Angel put a hand out to shut up Husk, scooting his stool closer to you, “So like— did Mister Wrong-Kinda-Horny have you killed?” His eyes went to your ears and back, “Is that why ya came back a little lady deer? Some kinda sex thing?”

You downed your drink and gestured to Husk to refill your glass, speaking to Angel without looking at him, “Why would he do that?

He grabbed your bar stool and swivelled you to face him, leaning in even closer, “Well, ya know…” his eyebrows raised up and down, ready to finally get the dirty details, “because ya-,”

“My little doe, just who I was looking for.” His sudden appearance startled all three of you. He was ready now, to pin down your fate. Were you going to stay at the hotel permanently or not? With his supervision or without?

“Why does everyone keep interruptin’ me?!” Angel slammed his hand on the bar.

On impulse, your own hand formed a first, “Stop calling me that!”

Alastor laughed, unhinged, a finger wiping a tear from his eye. Still, the attitude with which you spoke to him surprised him, “Oh? Why should I? You are a doe,” his microphone gestured to your head, “And your soul belongs to me. If I remember correctly, so does your body.” His eyes darkened, back bent as he came to your eye level, “But I always have video evidence if you’re unsure of the details.” 

You lifted your glass and cocked your arm back to throw it but stopped. Alastor was grinning, something in his stare egging you on. He was loving this. Finally you were paying some attention to him. You were looking right at him.

Setting the glass back down, you left your stool and slipped past him, “Lucky for you, radio demon. It’s all you have anymore.” You had decided you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of saying his name.

Husk sunk beneath the bar, Alastor’s antlers expanding as his eyes became overtaken with black. Angel scrambled over the counter to join the cowering bartender. Alastor whipped around, spine cracking and stretching. You were in the elevator for another quick escape when you turned and saw him gaining on you, his mouth nearly unhinged, teeth sharp and numerous. His body contorted to get his truly demonic face in your eye line, back bending in half to drop his head down, “What did you say?” The air around him seemed to bend and shake, the hiss of a misaligned radio station biting at your skin.

Your finger was shaking as you pressed the ‘close door’ button repeatedly, wetting your lips you found your foothold in anger again, “Fuck you.”

You didn’t recognize the sounds you heard just past the hollow elevator doors. Something between a screech and a wail. Not a sound you’d heard any deer make before.

Shakey knees and legs melting to jelly barely carried you to your room. You collapsed against the door as soon as you entered, locking it. Not that it mattered, you knew that.

A knock shook the wood and made you yelp.

“It’s me!” You recognized Angel’s voice, “Let me in.”

He fell into your room, hair a mess and eyes wide, “I don’t know where he went but he left the hotel. Jesus Christ you have balls of steel.” He fixed his hair, adjusting his chest fluff, “Or are a total idiot.” He saw the tears swelling in your eyes, gears shifting immediately, “Oh shit, sorry. You okay?”

You shook your head no and crumbled to the floor, “I haven’t fucking slept more than three hours a night in like, five fucking days. I’m going crazy.”

“I don’t know why ya’ll are fightin’ but can’t Alastor help you out? Ya’ll are close, maybe a night in his bed will set you straight.”

Your tears streamed down your face, “Angel! What are you talking about?! You keep saying shit like we’re friends. The closest I’ve been to him was in my fucking wet dreams!” You curled into the fetal position on the carpet, exhausted, scared, confused. You’d never seen something as skin-crawling as his full demonic form. But a part of you was mesmerised by the transformation. A sick part of you, you decided.

Angel lied down beside you, facing you, eyes blinking. One of his hands wiped at your tears, “What exactly happened after you went home?” 

You sniffled, “I couldn’t get him out of my head. I wore your robe. It smelled like you.” 

He laughed, “I wondered where that thing went.”

“I started having these dreams, just—- really fucked dreams of him.”

Angel’s eyes narrowed, “fucked how?”

Your wanted to hide your face but didn’t have the energy to move your arms, “He fucked me in the woods like his life depended on it. Best sex of my life, in my own imagination. Naturally.”

Angel sat up, he didn’t know what to ask first, “best sex?? Sorry- no. Fuck, uh, you had dreams about fucking the Radio Demon? You two never… met up?”

You rolled onto your back, shaking your head, “If he could have visited me, he never did. Trust me, I looked for any sign.”

“Uh huuuuh.” Angel nodded, “Well. His extra weird attitude makes more sense. He’s been super creepy, always just popping’ outta shadows and shit. More than usual.”

Angel looked over you, crying softly on the floor. He considered telling you, but if Alastor hadn’t he figured it was best he stay out of it. Lest he be the one fleeing into elevators.

“Have ya considered actually fucking him?” Angel couldn’t believe he was recommending anyone fuck Alastor, but it seemed like maybe it’d actually do you good.

“Why would I do that?”

Angel looked annoyed, “Because you wanna fuck him?! Get it out of our system?”

“Yes and I sometimes wonder what it would be like to drive into oncoming traffic. We all have the call of the void. He—,” you thought about the kiss, “I feel like it’d just make it worse. I’d want more.”

Angel showed you his phone, “He’s apparently eating sinners in the doom district, so, it’s your call. But maybe a good bang would get you both to chill out.” He scrolled, “Fucking hell. The best sex, of your life? Have you not had much sex or-?”

You crawled up to your bed and plopped your now heavy body down, “Angel.”

“Do you have some weird kink? Is it just really big?”

“Angel!”

“Does he go full demon and his peni-,”

“ANGEL.”

He spun his head around to look at you, “I wanna respect your boundaries but I will actually die again if you don’t explain this shit to me.”

Settling back, you groaned, “I’ve never felt so needed before. He held onto me like he couldn’t breath unless I was under him. But you see him, you’ve been here. Does that sound like him?”

Angel sat beside you, “Honestly didn’t know he knew what sex was until you came here so” he leaned back, two arms holding him up, “You guys are pretty fucked up.” You nodded. “What did he say, when you told him about the dreams?”

“Didn’t really come up.” You rolled your eyes.

He patted your thigh, “Got it. You’re gonna owe me like, a metric shit ton of drugs.” Angel pushed off the bed, waving as he left, “I’ll see ya tomorrow!” 

You sat up, staring curiously at where he had just been. Tomorrow? It was only 9am

.

Angel spent several hours in the lobby, pretending to read and socialize with residents. He jumped from the chaise lounge as soon as he saw Alastor walking into the hotel, “Hey uh, I know you know I think you’re a freaky fuck, but I wanna just say it sucks real bad and I’m sorry.” Alastor didn’t reply or even stop walking, Angel having to jog to keep pace.

“I mean, if my fuck buddy thought our bumpin’ uglies was all just dreams I’d be super fuckin’ bummed too.” Alastor became so still so quickly that Angel nearly fell over trying to stop his momentum. He waved his hand in front of Alastor’s face to make sure he was still conscious, “uhh anyone home in there?”

Alastor’s eyes flicked to dials, residents looking up warily as the power flickered and the space seemed to distort around them, “Explain, quickly.”

“She told me this mornin’! She thinks all those nights you were bangin’ her brains out — which, from one porn star to another, sounded top notch from my room — we’re just horny dreams. She’s all fucked in the head about it.”

Alastor melted into his shadow and slinked down the hall and up the walls, leaving Angel behind, “You all owe me!”

You heard footsteps suddenly advancing on you down the hall. Spinning around, your nose nearly brushed against his, Alastor’s face already down to your level.

He leaned in to you, his mouth hitting against your cheek, “I need to speak to you in my room, dear.” His voice was clearly not asking you. 

Your blood ran cold, goosebumps dancing down your neck and arms. “Why would-,”

“Now.” His arms wrapped around your waist, you pushed him away and turned to walk off but stopped. You weren’t in the hallway anymore. A bedroom. With a haughty laugh you turned to spit venom at him for such a dirty trick.

 As if expecting it, he cut you off, “They weren’t dreams, my doe. It was astral projection.” He took you by the shoulders and pointed your entire body at the forest scene melting into his room. Had it always been there? You couldn’t remember seeing it before, when you arrived in hell. Just him and his smile.

You felt the blush rise from your toes to your ear tips. Both hands came to your face, desperate to hide your existence from the situation.

You remembered that grassy clearing, the tree line. Peaking in and up, you saw the starry sky you spent so many nights moaning into.

“Why-,” your hands balled into fists, “didn’t you tell me?!” You turned to him, face red. You wanted to shove him, to hit him, but your mother taught you better than to lay hands on someone first. You finished fights, not started them.

Alastor smiled down at you, like he always did, “I thought you had no memory of our-,”

You cut off him off at the head, “visits.”

He laughed, “spirited visits.” Was that a pun? You groaned.

“I, I thought it was just make believe.” The gentle touches, the sweet names whispered into your skin, the way you could taste him even after you woke. The blush burned your cheeks.

Now that you knew, now that your eyes fell on him once again with recognition, he felt you’d actually answer him, “How did you die?” 

The question took you by surprise, You thought it was obvious, “I tried to kill a hunter in the woods. Well, I did kill him. But he killed me, too.”

A genuine grin spread across his lips, a cackle, “You killed a man?!” You shouldn’t have been so proud, but he looked so impressed, “Tell me every detail. Who was he to you?” Alastor’s hands came to your arms. You remembered last night, pulse quickening, and walked to his bed. You took a seat on the end, sinking softly into the plush blankets. Your hand ran over the fabric. 

“My employee’s father.” The fabric was soft, the threads tiny and tight.

Alastor took a seat beside you, legs crossed, “Oh? And why him?”

A hum, “He was a bad man.”

His hand picked up yours, bringing it to his mouth. There was that loss of blood to his brain, something you effortlessly did to him. “Who says?” His own heart picking up pace. You killed. Was it egotistical to think you inspired such a thing? Did you kill for him?

You watched your fingers tremble under his lips, “What?”

“Who says he was bad?”

Your eyes searched the room for an answer, “I think anyone would agree with me.”

His smile reached his eyes, “So you decided? He probably thought he was quite alright.” He turned your wrist over, mouth pressing to your pulse point. “Did you plan it?” Your scent was familiar but different now. Skin still just as soft. He felt himself salivate. Your spell just as strong in death. 

A gulp, all of those walls you struggled to keep standing turned to dust against his smirk. A stranger, a lover. Effortlessly your body shifted into a new gear under his touch. “Yeah, for a week. I waited until I knew he was going to be there. Walked the paths, bought a knife.”

“A knife,” he practically purred, “A favorite. No gun?” He pulled your arm toward him, bringing your whole body into his.

“I wanted something more… personal.”

Alastor buckled slightly, cock jumping in his lap. “You were made to be my undoing. I am sure of it. A cruel joke from heaven to distract me.” His mouth found your neck next, little nips before he chose a place and latched, sucking a bruise easily seen by others.

“This is a really fucked conversation, Alastor.” Your body softened, a small sigh coming before you could consider being embarrassed.

“For a ‘fucked’ situation, my dear.” His nose traced along your jaw. “But one you’ll find I quite enjoy.” He placed your hand on his lap. Did he see the face you made? The stupid grin? Your hand squeezed lightly on the length you felt tenting his pants, earning a moan into your cheek. Real. He was real. In your hands, now. No dreams or projection. No fantasies. No little pink toy. “Bear with me, just a little more. You’ll find my … proclivity for such topics quite important for these kinds activities.”

“You’re sick.” You turned, nose to nose smiling still.

He hummed, his own smile spreading, “desperately so.” Your hand gently traced the shape of him through his pants, “Why did you kill him? As opposed to all the other bad men?”

A question you didn’t feel you could answer, “This topic is having the opposite effect on me…” you squeezed him again.

“Fair enough,” he pushed you back onto the bed, leg going over your body to straddle you, “Then tell me how you felt? A compromise.”

How did you feel? When you killed him? “I felt strong.” He repositioned himself between your legs, “I wasn’t scared. I knew I’d succeed or-,”

“Or?” His breathing now a barely strained pant. Say it. Say it and he’ll let himself go completely.

You focused on the canopy of his bed, a red wine color much like his own coat. “Or I’d end up here, with you.” His head fell, forehead resting on your stomach. You looked down to see his antlers larger than before, no longer cute little prongs. “Alastor?”

He wasn’t an idiot. 

Maybe a little roundabout, but you chose him. 

Red dribbled from his chin, mind going foggy as eyes went black. His hands rid you of your clothes with delicate cuts, your body lurched up the bed by wide palms. 

You chose to come back. 

Your hands came down to undo his pants and belt, seeing he probably couldn’t manage himself. As soon as he was free of his clothes, he was rutting into your thigh. “Alastor”, you took his face in both hands, dials flickers to dilated pupils as you got him to focus on you. 

“My little doe.”

You came home.

His head came to rest just above yours, wide and sharp antlers just out of reach. His leaking cock finally found your core, Alastor groaning into the blankets to find you already so wet. Your hands gripped his arms, nails breaking skin in anticipation.

Lined up and impatient, he pushed up into you with unmeasured force. You bit onto the flesh of his shoulder, trying to keep yourself from screaming. In those dreamlike visits, he filled you so perfectly, body molding to him. But now, you were stuffed. With one thrust your cervix was bruised and tender. The tiniest pain bled into the eye-rolling pleasure of having him back in you. With heavy breaths he thrust into you with a need you couldn’t ever remember feeling before. He fucked you like he would die without your moans spilling across his chest. 

And it was true, feeling your soft cunt clenching him so tightly was a need more than anything else. A ray of light at the bottom of the Mariana’s trench. Impossible, and undeserved. You were everything he wasn't good enough to have, wasn’t clean enough of conscience to hold. An angel clipping a wing to dip into hell, you killed to sink back into his arms. Even if you didn’t say it, not yet. He could feel it in you. He had left a deeper impression on your soul than perhaps you had his. You weren’t just his by way of a deal, you corrupted yourself to his level.

He looked down at you, your eyes already wet and unfocused, mouth hanging open as every breath turned into rhythmic moans. Your soul a fresh snowfall, your adoration for him a drop of blood. His eyes shut, mind focused on where you and him merged now. Friction pulling him forward to his climax.

Your body was trembling, his lower stomach rubbing against your already swollen clit. That soft button just past your entrance wasn’t just being pressed, it was smashed against your walls with his shaft. His head dragging past it. You wanted to speak, to express how good you felt, but your tongue was frozen in your mouth. Every inhale became a gasp, every exhale was now a moan. You felt his body tighten, thrusts become shallow as his large head refused to stray far from your womb. Silently, your hands tore into his shoulders as you gripped through your orgasm. The muscles in your jaw now locked. Your legs came to wrap around his hips and draw him in, thighs convulsing as his pace didn’t stop for you to recover.

With an unmistakable mating press, his cock buried itself in your pussy. Balls deep suddenly made more sense as a phrase. Your cervix stung as his body forced more room for itself in you. The way your walls spasmed around him felt debauched, your body starved for him. Hungry as he had been. Alastor felt your soft cunt drowning in his seed and he groaned into your hair. Already spilling out, he didn’t even consider unsheathing himself from you.

You struggled to slow your heart rate, vision blocked entirely with his own heaving chest. As he softened in you, so did his form. Body reconfiguring above you, antlers now small and uncharacteristically cute.

With regained red eyes, he looked at your face. 

“Are you-,” he sighed, “Asleep.” Not a bad future after all, he mused. Watching you sleep. 

He considered wiping you down before placing you beneath his blanket, but it seemed like such a waste. Your head on his pillow, he felt everything in his chest settle. Like a puzzle whose pieces were all right but just not flush, his own damned soul settled flat. Everything snuggly in place. 

One of his large palms came to rest on your head, a familiar place for him now, “Sleep well, darling doe. I’ll be here when you wake.” 

༻Masterlist༺

∰ Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult: @nonetheartist , fizzled-phoenix , @tsunaki , @janchei , @wettiny-in-smutland , @moonmark98 , @hoebihoeshi , @fjorjestertealeaf , @pansexual-opera-house , @ive-no-idea-what-to-call-this , @roxxie-wolf , @polytheatrix , @lorddiabigmommymilkers , @backinthefkingbuildingagain , @harley2223-blog , @coffee-colored-hopeless-romantic , @poinappel , @midnightnoiserose , @spookieroz , @missmidorima , @phobophobular , @ivebeenthearchersstuff , @downbadforfictionalppl , @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx , @sleepylittledemon , @aether-th3-enby , @dontfuckbutimfab , @surusurusuru , @breathlessaura , @aperfectidiot , @certainlygay , @jth12 , @star-kujo-platinum , @ivebeenthearchersstuffn, @rubyninja1

🎞️ TRDFAHS VHS owners: @leathesimp , @alastors-staff, @howabouticallyou , @myrunawaysweets , @karmakillz , @serendipitous-fernweh , @universal-s1ut , @anuttellaa , @sillyb0nez , @nonamevenus , @fairyv-ice , @nitnat6245 , @alicehasdrowned , @alicebaskervilleposts , @jyoongim , @lunaramune , @christinebloodwrittings , @itszzmoon , @thekanrojimitsuri2 ,

@luna-usagi-chan

🏹Alastor stalkers: @celestial-vomit , @amurtan

[jazjelspen]

my angel baby

(alastor w/ angel daughter reader)

[caution!!: EPISODE 8 & 6 SPOILERS. NOT PROOFREAD]

(notes: alastor joins charlie and vaggie in heaven to convince them about the hazbin hotel. angel reader physically resembles a fawn. )

(right now this is considered a oneshot, unless there is a very high demand for a part 2 I'll happily make another one for funzies!)

(PART 2 IS OUT!!!)

(also apologies if alastor's last name isnt actually altruist LMAo I kinda just wrote it assuming so 😭 )

You made it to heaven, lucky you.

Heaven was surely a treat, you lived your days with the upmost happiness, the light of heaven shining on your skin with kisses as if praising you for your goodness and your sacrifices,

all your sacrifices.

You were currently taking the job over for St. Peter at the gates of heaven for just a few minutes to await for any wondering souls to appear, to help guide them while he came back from a lunch break. Normally they wouldn't allow a human soul like yourself with little experience in this kind of task to take charge of such an important job, but you were close to many of the high ranking angels and you have proved your proficiency in tasks that you set your mind to, so you were glad to help those in need.

You stood there reading through the millions of pages looking over all kinds of names, all seemed like names that you wouldn't normally hear back in your time when you died. Some you liked, others didn't exactly pique your interest much, but the advancement of names since the 1930s surely proved how much times have changed and how quickly time seems to pass in heaven.

You wonder if it is in hell too.

'Hell?..' you wondered as you shook your head and sighed, your mind has been on that place lately and you wondered if it was even worth the rent free space in your mind.

You were currently slouched over the book and decided to close it with a glum look on your face, your elbows now resting on the golden podium and your hands cupping your face.

Geez, and you've been thinking a lot about your old man.

What-- no wait-

You shouldn't call him your old man, let alone your dad, not even father, pops-- not even by his damn name.

Even so, as much as you hated it.. you couldn't help but still use his last name sometimes since it's what you were given when you were first taken in.

Your last name?.. why, you're forgetting already?

_____ Altruist is who you a---

"HELLO??"

You snapped out of your thoughts as your head slipped from under your palms, face planting onto the cover of the enormous book. In embarrassment you snapped your head back up and your wings followed suit, spreading open behind you in shock as your eyes searched for the voice that called out to you from below.

You finally darted down to see three oddly shaped figures, your panicked vision soon relaxing to see two girls and a man dressed in red from tip to toe.

How peculiar.

Your eyes only set on the girl at the moment since she was the one waving at you and basically begging for your attention.

"Hello hello! uh.. Down here!" The girl with long locks of pale yellow hair waved, her smile widening when seeing she's caught your attention.

"Ah- yes yes! Hello hello! Welcome to Heaven! May I.. uh-" you scrambled nervously to open the book in the middle of it, "May I have your name please?"

She nodded, also returning a bit of a shy attitude back "Yes of course! My names Charlie Morningstar!"

Just like that you flicked the pages to go to the names that sounded similar to the girl's, mumbling her name under your breath as your finger traced down each name on the list.. to your dismay you couldn't find it.

"You don't seem to be on the list ma'am.. how weird.. does this usually happen with St. Peter?.." you spoke in concern, mumbling the last part to yourself.

The girl then started to explain something about her dad getting her a meeting, your mind a little clouded still trying to find her name until you heard the forbidden name that no one inside the pearly gates ever attempted to say out loud.

"-- maybe try, Lucifer.. Morning...star-"

And just like that you slammed the book closed, no words coming out of your mouth but an exasperated look of shock freezing your face.

"Oh-hoho... that explains so much--" you gave her a small sheepish smile, awkwardly looking off to the side where your eyes couldn't help but drag themselves to the man dressed in red.

"Miss you don't think.. you could've..." your eyes at first looked at the man's waist, his coat lightly shredded at the ends and the stripes of the long suit guided your eyes upwards "-gotten..." up and up and your eyes met his. The red eyes, the ears, the small horns, the horrific aura, and..

Oh dear, you'd recognize that damned smile anywhere.

"--lost..?" the end of your sentence dragged on, taking a long while to finish since all you could think about is how this man is at the front door step of the place he shouldn't even be considered in being let to enter.

Alastor, your father from the living realm. Not connected by blood but by life and connection.

The man where you got your last name from by being taken in and called his daughter.

The red deer demon seemed to recognize you as well, a spark in his devilish eyes proved it so, but it was very brief since he more or less also seemed to relish the look on your face with his smile stretched further up.. however further up it could get.

Charlie seemed concerned at your reaction, waving her hand in front of your face gently as if to get you out of this trance. "Heyyy... are you okay?.." she asked with genuine worry until all of you were focused away from this bizarre moment when a set of three angels befell before you all. The two seraphims and finally-- St. Peter off from his break.

"_____. We can take it from here, we appreciate the help." The highest and oldest seraphim announced your name and her appreciation while gliding down a bit more earlier than the blonde angel you covered for, she and the younger seraphim's forms going from their true to more human-like appearances.

"_____! My dear friend thank you so much for covering for me, always a real helper you!" St. Peter popped beside you as he praised you while gently flying beside you, you looked up at him with a small nervous smile before opening your own wings to flap down from his podium and let him get back on the job.

"It's no problem at all, you know me! Always.. happy to help.." you spoke your last words to him before your wings gently took you down to set yourself beside another one of your friends, Emily! You never talked much to Sera that wasn't in a formal setting but Emily seemed so easy to get along with. She gave you a tight squeeze of a hug while saying hello which eased your nerves a bit more, of course they never fully disappeared with the man who ruined everything before you let out your last breath.. standing right in front of you.

The man that brought you up here in the first place.

The seraphims introduced themselves to the three residents of hell, the deer demon more quiet until finally finding a spot of silence to jump in and introduce himself as well.

"Why hello, a real pleasure meeting you two quite the pleasure! Never thought I'd ever get to see an angel up this close in my life HAHA! The names Alastor!"

The voice, the radio static over it, his name.

It was him, you recognized it as if you listened to him on the radio just yesterday, your own personal hell.

Whatever reaction or words the higher ranked angels said seemed to fizzle out of your brain as they were replaced with the memories of your last moments on earth.

------------------------------------------------------------------

"Father!" you screamed as you ran up to your childhood home, the home to which you were raised and kept in, your home in which you lived in with your father, Alastor Altruist.

For sometime you had suspected foul play when it came to your father's weird actions when the night came, the tone he spoke through his radio show when announcing several murders happening across and haunting New Orleans. You just didn't want to truly believe that the man that found you, a poor little orphaned baby, and raised you would do such disgusting and diabolical crimes.

You couldn't believe it.. until you finally saw it.

Your legs scrambled and fought each step to become faster, finally reaching the door of your home you slammed it open with a strong kick after jiggling the doorknob didn't work.

You knew the next murder he would commit would happen in your home.. you thanked whatever force that made you disobey him and look through his study since if you didn't you wouldn't know that right now there was blood to be shed.

The door opening and with your kick full of adrenaline and panic it made the door barley cling onto it's hinges. There your father was, on top of a wounded man that seemed to be gurgling and gasping to breathe as the victim attempted to claw at Alastor's grasp. Pieces of glass and wood broken across the entire floor, walls bloodied and worn out, pictures that hung neatly now cracked and lopsided or shattered on the floor.

Whatever happened in here, the victim was sure a fighter in the beginning.

You immediately without hesitation with full force pushed Alastor off the man, pulling the bloodied stranger by his wrist. The victim and you stared for a moment, him mostly realizing that he's being saved by a young girl like you. His lips parted to thank you but you could see Alastor raise his kitchen knife in the air and sprinted toward him to stab him on the back.

With no words left to share or spill you grabbed the stranger by the shoulders and with all your might pushed him and yourself away so that in the end Alastor ended up stabbing nothing but air.

Alastor grunted in frustration, his bloodied smile yet never faltering despite the challenge you now gave him.

The man snapped his head at you, eyes fixated at you before snapping back to his victim and raising his knife up once more, in a haunting motion his steps creeped and creaked towards the injured New Orleans citizen stricken with fear and terror.

Just like that, Alastor slams his knife down with no hesitation. The knife fully in his prey with no inch of the blade uncovered.

Oh-- wait.

That shriek, the sobs, the shaky breathing and the coughs of blood.. that wasn't his victim.

It was you.

His daughter, he stabbed his daughter.

For a moment you could see his crazed smile falter, the humane part of him uncovering itself for a moment, for you.

His little girl was covered in her blood because of him, the little baby he found on that cold rainy day is dying because of him, his bundle of joy that he took years to take care of is leaving him.. and it's all his fault.

He didn't know it was you-- he didn't know you'd be that stupid to sacrifice yourself for some random prick.

He didn't know that in the end, someone as evil as him could have raised someone as selfless as you.

"p..papa..?" you whimpered, your painful coughs of blood spilling out and going down your chin and your neck. "It hurts-- g.. it hurts so much papa.." you cried as the knife in your chest seemed to feel as if it was melting into your skin, becoming one with you. It obviously wasn't but the pain was just that painful.

Alastor's smile faltered and kept trying to stay up, his own set of tears falling down his face and onto your cheeks that were slowly losing life. Regret stabbing his own heart the way he did to yours. He let go of the knife and instead cradled you in his arms, just like how he used to when you would have nightmares as a little girl.

"Shh.. Shh.." he shush you softly as he gently patted your head, moving away any uneven strands of hair he could spot with his hands trembling in regret. "Little one.. don't worry about a thing, papa's here.. " he mumbled, the gentleness replacing what once was pure aggressiveness.

Your eyes slowly started to flutter closed, your pulse slowing down, breathing less profound, your limbs going limp, and your face.. contorting into a peaceful state of slumber.

Alastor watched as you passed in his arms, his faltering smile picking itself up once more to stretch itself across his face with tears pouring out his eyes. This wasn't a smile of joy, it was a smile to hide what he truly felt.. to lie to himself. "My little angel, forgive me please."

Those were his last words to you, words that in the end you couldn't hear.

And that man he tried to kill earlier? He escaped when he was given the chance, Alastor was sure the cops were to invade his home soon.. now there was just one thing left to do before he'd be found once again to pay the consequences.

He took your body to a beautiful forest filled with flower meadows. Alastor knew this was one of your favorite spots as a young girl, why not let you rest here.

Ah but as he was preparing to bury you in your final resting place... that darn deer hunter.

Well, you know the story. Mistaken for a deer, shot, that's the end of Alastor Altruist and his darling daughter, ______ Altruist.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

As you stood there you were awoken from your thoughts with the high angels escorting the princess and her other female companion into the gates of heaven, St. Peter welcoming them humbly with one of heaven's popular songs.

You were frozen, in shock. A chill went down your spine as you felt a foreign energy come closer.

You felt long fingers grapple themselves onto your shoulder which made you dramatically turn towards the hand and away from it.

Your father wanted to talk to you.

Your contrasting colors and appearances made this reunitement even more uncomfortable for you, his demon form seeming to match his disgusting self that he hid from the human world before.

His face was hard to read, especially with that signature smile of his that even in death he would never get rid of.

"Little one, my darling daughter.." he spoke, his voice seemingly trying to seem genuine but the radio filter over it made it feel condescending to you.. as if mocking you.

The look on your face was evident, you missed him so much but hated him with your entire being because of that hidden side he kept for years.

He continued "My little ____... out of all places I never thought I'd see you here. Oh but it's definitely much better than down under my little dove.."

Geez what was he even saying?? What were his intentions..?? You couldn't tell.. after all this time, you couldn't forgive this man, this serial killer, this demon, this.. monster. You couldn't.. not this soon anyways.

You took a deep inhale and exhale before fixing your posture and stance, trying to seem more professional and confident. "Sir, your hosts and companions are ahead of you. You wouldn't want to miss your introduction to a place you'll never see again after this day." Your voice stern and professional, trying your best to be void of emotion.

"Darling.. is that truly a way to greet your dear ol' father?" He spoke, hand stretched out while the other held onto his staff.

"Your friends are waiting on you, don't be late Alastor."

Just like that you turned your heel and gave him the cold shoulder, your wings spread and started flapping. Taking you up and away further into your home.. Alastor watched you as you left him once again, this time by choice.

Ah but he knew, he'd have his darling daughter back soon. His little angel that he cared for will forgive him.. he knew you had to.

With his grin widening even further he walked to catch up to the Princess of hell and her partner into the pearly gates, to see what other thing could entertain him while his daughter snapped back to her senses.

(hello!! thank you so much for reading I had a blast with this. as you can tell. once again thank you so much for reading! hope to see you soon! mwa mwa!)

[kommandonuovidiavoli]

!!!!!!!!!!!!! PLDFKJADFJLòASKDJFòLASDKJF THANK YOU A LOOOOOOOT!!!

But also

I swear I will need a folder called "everyone makes charlie cute"

*throws them at u* draw whoever you want/like!

Babys

[forzalando]

Orange Theory

Charles Leclerc x best friend!reader (female reader)

summary: charles and his best friend do countless nice things for each other, but they're just behaving like any good friend would. right? wc: 2.5k author's note: ok guys so this is not the Charles fic i promised (she is still a WIP and i will finish her eventually. probably will have to be a multi-part fic with how long it's getting), but i hope you enjoy this one in the meantime! special thanks to @scuderiahoney for encouragement and inspiration. special thanks to @sof1shticated for reading and assuring me this doesn't suck. if you haven't read their fics, both Lee and Mel have some gems that i adore. HIGHLY recommend checking out their masterlists! warnings: none!

You loved summer break – Charles was home for at least a few weeks, days spent on a yacht, every afternoon and evening spent with friends either at dinner or out at some club until someone got too drunk to carry on.

Today was, in your humble opinion, the perfect day. All of your friends, courtesy of Charles, were sprawled out on the sun deck of a rented boat or splashing around in the water below. You could feel the heat radiating off of Lando as he laid next to you and whispered about how McLaren was making insane upgrades – according to him, they might just have a race-winning car in the second half of the season.

“Are you boring my best friend to tears, Norris?” The brutal sun disappeared behind Charles’ body as he stood above you – as if on instinct, he shifted slightly so that you could look up at him and not be blinded by its rays.

“She’s hanging on my every word, right, Y/N? In fact, she asked me how I’m feeling about Zandvoort and the rest of the season.”

“And?” Charles asked, a small smile on his face.

“Like I would tell you what’s going on with the car! I know Y/N can keep a secret, she would never betray me to a prancing horse. She bleeds papaya.”

You laughed along with Lando – the one point of contention that had always existed in your friendship with Charles. Of course, you became a Ferrari fan because of him, but you’d always been a McLaren and Mercedes loyalist. It was something that Lando, Oscar, and George relished in.

“Alright, alright, no need to rub it in, Norris,” you giggled. “What can I do for you, Charlie?”

“I just came to give you this.”

Within seconds, a perfectly peeled orange dropped in your lap. Lando’s eyes grew wide for a moment but a swift glare from Charles had his face back to normal in no time. You missed the interaction, jumping up from your seat in excitement.

“Aw, Charlie! You are the best friend a girl could ask for,” you chirped as you started separating the wedges of fruit.

“Ah, don’t mention it,” he sighed, waving his citrus-scented hand in the air. “There’s more in the cooler if you want! Freshly peeled!”

“Thank you, mon cher ami.” You quickly kissed his cheek, noticing as you pulled away just how red it was, along with his neck and the tips of his ears. “Charles! How many times do I have to tell you to put on sunscreen? Your face and neck are fried!”

“I don’t think it’s from the sun,” Lando mumbled, his eyes trained on the fruit in your hands. With Charles insisting he was fine, you could barely hear what he had said.

“What did you say, Lan?” You asked, turning your attention away from Charles for a moment.

Once again, Lando was met with a menacing glare and he laughed awkwardly before moving his gaze to the horizon.

“Nothing, nothing, Y/N. Just thinking out loud.”

Shrugging your shoulders, you turned back to Charles and handed him the orange he had just given to you. With your now free hands, you rifled through your beach bag until you found the SPF 50 face cream you had packed that morning with Charles in mind.

“Here, I packed this for you. Please put some on so I don’t have to worry about you getting sun poisoning,” you pleaded with your best puppy dog eyes.

Charles stared without answering for far too long – anything you wanted, all you had to do was ask him and he’d do it. Even without you gazing at him with your wide, siren eyes, he would give you the world if you so desired it.

He shook his head slightly, pulling himself out of the daze caused by your pleading eyes. “Oui, ma fleur, I will put on the sun cream. Je promets.”

You smiled in triumph, taking the orange back from Charles and bidding him a “see you later” before laying back down in your lounger. Popping an orange slice into your mouth, you let out a contented sigh. Somehow, whether Charles was magic or he had some serious connections in the produce world, the fruit he picked out and gave to you always tasted better than anything you bought yourself.

“He peels your oranges for you?”

You hummed and turned to Lando – “what, Lan?”

“Does Charles always peel your oranges for you?”

“Well, no, obviously not always. Why?”

Before Lando could answer, Lily plopped down next to you and stole an orange slice from your hand.

“I swear,” she huffed, “Alex and George are competitive to begin with, but when they get together, it’s unbearable. They’ve been having a “who can hold their breath the longest” contest for the past thirty minutes! Rematch after rematch after rematch, I called in my favor with Oscar to get out of judging their little competition.”

“As if either of them could beat me, they probably didn’t ask me to join because they’re scared,” Lando bragged. “I’ll leave you ladies to chat, go show them how it’s done.”

As Lando walked towards the edge of the boat, you and Lily turned towards one another.

“Men,” you scoffed in unison, following it up with belly laughs and lingering giggles.

As the laughter died down, Lily ate the orange slice she had stolen from you and practically moaned in delight. “Where did you get this orange? It might be the best I’ve ever had!”

“It’s from Charles! I was just thinking about this, I don’t know how he does it but he always has the best fruit. Every time he brings me any I am both ecstatic and pissed off – my fruit is never as good as his and we shop at the same grocery store!”

“Well, does he have any more oranges? I could eat 20 of these.”

“He said he left me more in his cooler, let me grab them.”

A few moments later, you walked back to Lily with a bag of peeled oranges in your right hand and two bottles of water in your left.

“Are you a professional orange peeler? You were only gone for two minutes.”

“Oh no,” you giggled, “Charles peeled them for me. He knows I don’t like peeling them so when he can, he always does it for me.”

“Y/N,” Lily looked at you suspiciously, “do you know what the orange peel theory is?”

You wracked your brain but came up empty. “No, what is it?”

Lily went into a brief explanation – something about how it became a viral tik tok challenge, people asking their partners if they would peel an orange for them and how it was an indicator of true love, soulmates, a healthy relationship, and everything in between. “Well, that’s just silly,” you mumbled through chews, orange juice dribbling down your chin. “I think it just means someone is a good person – Charlie and I aren’t anything more than friends and he peels my oranges, among other things, because he has a good heart.”

“Among other things?” Lily pressed you, her eyes gleaming with something you couldn’t quite place.

“He slices my apples because I have never been able to master the apple corer contraption! And he takes all my grapes off the stems when he’s at my place because I never do – it’s too tedious.”

“What else?”

“Oh, when we go out to breakfast, he always brings me a tea when he picks me up. He’s an early riser and I take forever to get ready. He knows I never have time to make it myself when we have plans before 10am.”

Lily was smirking at you, no, smiling at you. It was a little unnerving, the way she was entirely amused at the information you were giving her. However, the moment was briefly interrupted by the arrival of Alex.

“What are we talking about, ladies?” He spoke cheerfully, a broad smile on his face which meant that he was most likely declared the best breath holder of the 2019 rookies.

“Y/N was just telling me about all the sweet things Charles does for her,” Lily gushed.

“Oh god, when is he not doing things for her? Did you see him buttering her bread for her at dinner last week?”

Lily burst out laughing while you playfully punched Alex’s arm. “I’m indecisive! He butters it for me while I read the menu since it takes me so long to figure out what I want to order. It saves time!”

“He does that on a regular basis?” Alex asked incredulously, looking at Lily with wide eyes. “My god, that man is head over heels.”

“Alex,” you protested, “Charles is not in love with me. We’ve been friends for six years, I think I would know by now.”

“You’re both impossible,” Alex groaned. “Come on, Lily, I just came over to get you so we could play water polo with George and Carmen.”

Lily sighed in defeat, though she had a smile on her face at the thought of spending time with Alex even if it meant another competition. “I’ll see you, later, yeah?” She called over her shoulder, waving goodbye as you teased her by dramatically eating another slice of orange and settling back in your chair. At the front of the boat, Charles was laughing with Pierre and almost as if he felt you looking, he turned around and met your gaze.

Even though you had just wholly denied anything more than friendship between you and him, you couldn’t help but think about your interactions with Lily and Alex.

Sure, Charles sometimes did things that were out of the ordinary for ‘just friends’, but he had the sweetest soul of anyone you’d ever met. He always sacrificed his umbrella or jacket for you, made sure you had fresh tulips in your apartment when he was home in between races, had your favorite meal delivered to you when you were having a rough day while he was away and you missed him.

You did things for him too – cleaned his apartment when you knew he was on his way back to Monaco, left him plenty of sticky notes with words of encouragement if he was coming back from a bad race, stocked his fridge full of his favorite things. Recently, you’d been gifting him annotated books because he mentioned he wanted to read more and always enjoyed listening to you talk about your favorite novels. Since you spent most of the year apart, you decided he could at least read your thoughts.

When you could come to races, unfortunately a rare occurrence due to your graduate classes and work schedule, he made sure Ferrari hospitality had your favorite flavor of sparkling water on hand. Anytime you saw a cute dog video, you would send it to him because they always made him smile.

You’d do anything to make him smile, just as he would for you, which is what a good friend would do. A best friend, it’s what a best friend would do.

But best friends didn’t linger in doorways and stare at each other’s lips when bidding each other goodnight. They didn’t cuddle close and fall asleep in each other’s arms on a couch while watching whatever movie you had chosen because he always let you choose.

They didn’t look at one another the way Charles was looking at you now – his sunglasses pushed up on top of his head and a dopey smile on his face. He waved to you and dramatically blew you a kiss, something he always did when he caught your eye across a room, no matter who was around.

You practically launched yourself to your feet, the last remaining orange slices in your lap falling to the lounger and staining the seat with juice. It was only seconds until you were standing in front of Charles but the walk over felt like an eternity with the way the world around you disappeared and your heart pounded in your chest.

“Est-ce que tu maimes, Charles?”

The question came out in one breath, your chest heaving in anticipation for his response.

“Of course, I love you, ma fleur,” he laughed. “What’s gotten into you?”

“No,” you panted. “Do you love me, Charlie? Est-ce que tu maimes?”

“Of course, I love you,” he answered again, his eyes shining and a small smile on his face that told you everything you needed to know. “Every time I think of you, I love you. Every time I breathe, I love you.”

“Every time you peel my oranges?” You whispered, holding up your orange juice-stained fingertips. He took your right hand in his and held it up to his face to kiss your palm, his eyelashes fluttering against you gently.

“Especially when I peel your oranges. Did you know that I hate doing it too? Like, really hate it. I don’t even peel them for myself.”

You gasped in shock, watching as he threw his head back and laughed jovially.

“I’d do anything for you, ma fleur. Mon soleil. Mon cœur.”

“Would you kiss me?”

“Maybe if Pierre would leave and stop gawking at us.”

This time you threw your head back to laugh, Charles soon joining you as Pierre protested the accusation.

“No, no,” he shouted, “you didn’t even give me a chance to leave. Just started declaring your love before I knew what was happening. Which, by the way, was so obvious it was starting to get annoying. We’ve all tried dropping hints to both of you so I don’t know who got through to you, Y/N, but – ”

“Pierre!” You shouted, eyes wide and arm gesturing him away from the two of you.

“Ah, désolé, I’m leaving,” he grumbled, almost tripping over his own feet to get away as quickly as possible.

You giggled again and Charles gripped your chin softly, pulling your eyes away from Pierre and back to face him.

He leaned in gently, as if he was afraid you would back away and regret taking the leap to go from friends to something so much more.

He tasted like salt water, smelled like sweet fruit and sunscreen – you smiled into the kiss knowing that he had listened to you and put it on, even though you knew he hated the way it felt on his skin.

His fingers gripped your waist and yours trailed up his chest – both of you slightly sticky from the citrus juices and sweat from the sun.

You pulled away and nudged his nose with yours, breathing him in and wishing that this moment would never end. Charles lowered you both to the sun deck, adjusting until you were sitting between his legs and his arms were wrapped firmly around you, the two of you facing the sunset and open sea.

After a few moments, you broke the shared silence. “You know, I would have happily peeled an orange for you if you had ever asked me,” you asserted.

Charles’ hold on you softened at your admission, the thinly veiled meaning not at all lost on him as he pressed his lips to your cheek.

“I love you too, Y/N.”

[strangersteddierthings]

Made With Love

It takes one bite for Eddie to suspect he's done something wrong. A second bite confirms it. He's fucked up somehow and cannot for the life of him remember what it was.

Did he miss an important date of some sort? It couldn't have been their anniversary because that's August 13th (Eddie's new favorite day of the year, for obvious reasons). He absolutely didn't miss Steve's birthday. Not with how long he and Robin had spent planning the damn thing. (Eddie is never throwing another surprise party in his life; the stress of secret keeping was too much to bear.)

... Did he miss Robin's birthday?

No. That can't be. Steve would never let him miss that.

It could be one of the Party's birthdays, but Eddie doesn't think that's a transgression that would warrant this.

This, of course, being his peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

"What, your peanut butter's gone bad?"

Eddie lifts his eyes from the proof of Steve's anger at him to his coworker, Charlie, sitting across the table from him in the closet that Thatcher claims is the break room. "No. It's much worse than that, I'm afraid."

"Well, don't keep me in suspense," Charlie deadpans.

"This sandwich wasn't made with love," Eddie whines, looking back at the sandwich with as much sorrow as he can muster. He sets the sandwich down on the baggy he had pulled it out of so that he can frown down at it without having to touch the offending creation.

"Ah shit," Charlie says, voice filled with empathy. This is why he's Eddie's favorite coworker. He gets it. Possibly because he's the only person who's tasted the difference for himself, back when Eddie'd just started at Thatcher Tires. "What'd'ya do?"

"I don't know!" Eddie wails. "Everything was fine when I left this morning, or I thought it was anyway."

"Ain't your misses pretty good at lettin' you know you done fucked up?" Charlie, like the best coworker that he is, looks surprised that Eddie doesn't know what he's done. He's right, too. Steve is the goddamn king of petty, and Eddie has never struggled to know when Steve's mad at him. The struggle usually comes from Eddie refusing to be in the wrong.

(That's not to say that Eddie is always in the wrong. He's not. Sure, a good percent of their arguments Eddie is the one at fault and he's mature enough to admit so once the argument is over, but it's not always his fault.)

Anyway, the point is, regardless of who's at fault, Steve is angry at him about something and for the first time in months Eddie doesn't know what for. They'd promised each other, after their first very big fight that almost ended in a breakup and was over a misunderstanding, that they would tell each other why they're mad or upset or feeling some type of way. So for Eddie to not know...

He thinks he might have fucked up big time.

"I know!" Eddie cries, shoving the sandwich away from him to make room to drop his forehead onto the table, then turns to smoosh his cheek against the table so he can look at Charlie. "Charlie. Charlie what do I do?"

Charlie blows out a long breath, thinking, before he gives a decisive nod and says, "you gotta beg forgiveness."

Eddie knows Charlie's right. He doesn't know what he did but he's going to beg forgiveness anyway.

Which is how he now finds himself in the small floral section of the grocery store looking over the sad, wilted bouquets after work. His arms are already full with Steve's favorite ice cream, candies, an over-priced little blue teddy bear that's holding an 'It's A Boy!' card that Eddie plans to rip off, and a blank card with a painting of sunflowers on it that he plans to wax poetry about Steve inside.

The final part of his groveling is, of course, the flowers. It's the wrong season for sunflowers, so Eddie was going to settle for roses. It's just that these roses are all sad looking. They don't really scream 'I Love You More Than Anything Else In The World, Please Forgive Me For What I've Done' though.

Let it never be said that Eddie doesn't know how to beg forgiveness.

He ends up picking the least wilted looking bouquet, one with white and yellow flowers he can't name.

The cashier is an older lady who takes quick catalogue of his items and asks, "is it your anniversary, darling? Or, oh!" She picks up the blue bear and Eddie feels his ear heating with embarrassment as she coos, "are you expecting? How exciting!"

"Err, no, not, uh, no. It's just blue is hi-her favorite color, so I was planning to just cut off the little card," Eddie stutters out the lie. Blue isn't Steve's favorite color but Eddie's used to making up many little lies when talking to strangers. Being hate-crimed is not a passion of Eddie's. "I, uh, messed up. And I don't know what I did, but I'm going to make it right."

The lady smiles at him and gives him a firm nod as she scans the items. "Smart boy. I'm sure she'll forgive you."

Eddie gives her a smile he hopes isn't as tight-lipped as it feels on his face.

Back in the safety of his van, Eddie roots around until he finds a pen and gets to writing all the things he loves about Steve in the card and all the things he hopes they'll get to have in the future. Nothing they haven't spoken about before, but it still makes Eddie a little emotional writing it all down.

Once he's done writing, he pulls his pocket knife out and cuts off the 'It's A Boy' card from the bear, crumpling it up and tossing it in the back of the van to be forgotten. He shoves the sunflower card in it's place. His card is a bit wider than the previous one here so it stays in place, albeit precariously. He'll be careful handing it over to Steve.

He knows that Steve is at home already. Steve's always home first because he's off work at four compared to Eddie getting off work around five.

Well. Closer to five-thirty today with his stop at the grocery store. He really hopes that whatever has Steve mad at him isn't time related. Being late home without calling might earn him no favors if it's a time-based blunder.

Steve is in the kitchen, back to the door since he's facing the stove, as Eddie expected he might be. Which means that Eddie doesn't get to lay out all his Items of Forgiveness across the counter like he had hoped but that's okay. If the love of his life has chosen to forgive him, he knows Steve will be just as overjoyed to rifling through a bag of goodies as he would to pick them off the counter.

"Hi sweetheart," Eddie says, words oozing with adoration and sweetness.

"Hi baby," Steve's tone matches Eddie's, like an instinct to match Eddie's energy has written itself into Steve's DNA. And it might have. Eddie knows the reverse is true.

Steve turns from the stove, then, and his face lights up with delight and surprise. "What's all this?"

"Your favorite things, because I love you," Eddie says, raising his arms a bit. The grocery bag is looped over his wrist with flowers in one hand and the bear in the other.

Steve looks positively smitten.

Eddie is nailing this apology that isn't an apology. And let it be known; he cannot say he's sorry. It'll ruin everything. Because Steve, his wonderful, beautiful, kind and loving Stevie, will cock one perfect little caterpillar eyebrow and ask if Eddie knows what he's apologizing for, and Eddie will have to say he doesn't know and that isn't something he's willing to do. Especially not when it's looking like whatever Steve was mad about has completely slipped Steve's mind, too.

"I got your favorite ice cream, too, so we might want to get that into the freezer," Eddie says, passing the bear and card to Steve and shimmying around him to get to the freezer.

He lays the flowers on the counter and sets to emptying the bag. Ice cream in the freezer and goodies on the counter, while Steve reads the card silently behind him.

He knows he's successfully made up for whatever it was he had done, because Steve crowds him against the fridge shortly after setting the card down and turning the stove burner off, kissing him breathless.

Eddie even gets desert before dinner, with Steve all but dragging him to their bedroom.

-

The reddit post that inspired this -

[dimesdimesdimess]

CONFESSION

Father Charlie Mayhew x Reader

Warnings: fingering, masturbation, dirty talk, swearing, innocent reader, lustful priest.

Readers Notes: Hello! This is my first time writing for this fandom. But it’s also been awhile since I’ve written anything. So the smut may not be great since I’m a little rusty. But if you enjoy it I may write another part. We’ll see. Enjoy! Possible spelling errors, not proof read.

part two

Every Thursday you made your way to the church for confession, confessing to the sins you committed for that week. Most of the time they are little things like swearing, or being a bit selfish and using the lord’s name in vain. Things that make Father Charlie laugh to himself because these weren’t really sinful to him and you were one of the few people that actually came every week. It always made him curious about you and liked when you came even if he didn’t feel it necessary. So every Thursday he listened, absolved you of your sins and made you say your hail marys. You always felt so much better after seeing Father Charlie. He wasn’t like some of the other priests, he was younger than them all, and had different ways about himself. You thought he was a bit strange at first and much too good looking to be a priest. You had to admit to yourself that sometimes you were coming to church just to see him. Much like the other women.. You heard whispers of the other women and the young girls talking about how handsome he was and every now and then one of them would try to flirt with him. He’d just smile at them as if he had no clue. 

You weren’t any different from these women. You also felt the urge to flirt with him, but he was a priest and that would be sinful. But that didn’t stop the thoughts that ran through your mind about him even outside of church. Sinful thoughts of him crossed your mind and you did your best to stop them even praying the thoughts away, but nothing worked. You couldn’t take the fact that God might send you to hell for having such thoughts. 

Thursday was rolling back around and one thing you thought could help and make you feel less of a sinful person was confession. Maybe if you confessed about the sin you’ve been committing that you’d be absolved and it would stop. But you couldn’t tell him the thoughts were about him, so you’d have to make up a story. As soon as you could you rushed over to the church and headed inside, there he was waiting by the confessional booth, he was expecting you. You lightly dip your fingers into the holy water and sign the cross before you quickly walk over to him.

Father Charlie smiled. “Ah, there you are, Y/N. Right on time. 

You were out of breath because you literally ran over. You smiled nervously at him as you caught your breath, those sinful thoughts creeping into your mind as you stared up at him. “Hello father.” you murmured.

He raised an eyebrow at you. “Everything alright?” 

You nodded. “Mhm, just ready to give my weekly confession.” you mumbled. 

He chuckles softly. “Alright. Let’s get started.” he opens the door on his side of the booth and he steps inside. You nervously open the door to your side and step inside, sitting down as your hands sit in your lap and you nervously rubbing them together. There's a small light in the confession booth, it was just bright enough that it wasn’t completely pitch black. 

There was silence for a moment and then you started to speak softly. 

“Bless me father, for I have sinned. It’s been a week since my last confession.” you say softly. 

There’s another silence. You nervously rubbed your hands together, unsure of how to confess your sin. 

“Y/N?” Father Charlie says softly. 

You clear your throat. “Sorry, father.” you mumble. 

You sigh softly as you go down the list of your confesses, which was the usual, swearing and using the lord's name in vain. Which Father Charlie expected and made him a smile a bit to himself.

“Anything else, Y/N?” he asks. 

You let out another sigh. 

“Y-Yes.. I’ve.. I’ve been having some thoughts..” you murmur. 

Father Charlie’s interest now peeked. “What thoughts, my child?” he responds. 

“Um.. sinful.. Dirty thoughts…” You pause. “About a man..” you whisper. 

There’s practically a smirk on Father Charlie’s face. This was new for you and unexpected. Now he was more interested in this than ever. 

“What are these thoughts? Is this a man you know? Someone you’re seeing?” he questions. 

You shake your head. “No.. I’m not seeing him.. I just.. He’s just someone I know. Everyday I have the most impure thoughts about him.. And his body and things I’d like him to do to me. It’s terrible, father. Just terrible. I can’t seem to get these thoughts out of my mind. I tried to pray to make it stop. But they just won’t.. I don’t know what else to do, father.” 

Father Charlie sinks his teeth into his bottom lip as he listens to you and then his tongue runs over them as he clears his throat. Such an innocent woman like you having impure thoughts like this made him feel a way. He wanted to help. He wanted to help ease these feelings and thoughts you’ve been having in one way he knew how. 

“Well.. It’s perfectly normal to have such thoughts if you feel something for this man. Sinful, maybe. But normal. You can’t avoid sexual feelings. There is something I know that may help with this, Y/N.” he says. 

You glance over through the separator. “There is? What is it we can do? Prayer? Penance? I’ll do anything to make this stop.” you pleaded. 

He chuckles lowly. “No.. None of that. This is something that I’ve been wanting to speak about. Something to bring the church into the future. Embracing sexual desires instead of condemning them or thinking of them as sinful.” he says. 

You furrow your brow, not understanding what he’s getting at. “What do you mean? Isn’t it a sin to have these thoughts if you’re not married?” you respond. 

“No. It’s human nature, now would you like me to help you?” he says quite coldly. 

You would do anything to make this feeling go away and stop lusting after your priest. “Yes father, please help.” you respond.

Just the very sound of that does something to him and he could feel his pants becoming tight at the very thought of what he was going to make you do. 

“Now I must say, what we do in here is confidential as you know. So, I can’t tell anyone and I’ll need you to promise you won’t speak of this with anyone.” he says, peering over at you through the separator. 

He had a seriousness in his voice and you glance over at him. Your eyes meeting in the dimness of the booth, still curious about how he was going to help you. “I promise I won’t tell anyone, father. Honest.” you say, nodding. 

“Good.. Then we can begin, Y/N. You’ll need to obey my every word. This is to help you, that’s all.” he proceeds to say. 

“I understand, father.” you chime in. 

“Good. Now.. Why don’t you start off by spreading your legs..” he hums.

You look over at him. “Father?” you question. 

“I told you, this is to help you. Now spread your legs..” he says demandingly. 

You swallow hard and do as you're told. He is the priest after all.. A holy vessel. What he’s asking must be what God wants. You slowly spread your legs open. The fabric of your dress lies against your thighs as it rides up just slightly as your legs are spread. Father Charlie peeks over and smirks to himself. “Wider.” he demands. 

You spread your legs open even further and now your dress rides up even further along your thighs. Father Charlie pleased with your obedience. “Good girl..” he hums. Now slowly lift the skirt of your dress up just above your thighs.” he whispers. 

Your eyes widened with innocence. You couldn’t believe this was happening and that this is what God wanted. “Now Y/N.” he hisses. 

You quickly lifted the skirt of your dress up just as he wanted and now your thighs and panties were completely exposed. He leans over and looks between the separator, the very sight of your white cotton panties causing the tightness in his pants to become worse than before that his bulge begging to be set free from their confinement. He tries to adjust himself. “Good..” he whispers. 

“Now tell me about these sinful dirty thoughts of yours, Y/N. While you do it.. I want you to touch yourself the way you wanted to be touched in these thoughts of yours.” he whispers, running a hand along his clothed hard on. 

You hesitate. “But father.. I..” he cuts you off before you could get another word out. 

“In order for this to work you need to be obedient. You need to act on these sinful thoughts and do as I say. Now do as I ordered or you will never be rid of this.” he says sharply. 

“Yes father.” you respond in a soft voice. You let out a soft exhale as your hands run over your thighs. “T-This man.. All I want is for him to run his hands along my body.. Touching me.. Teasing me.. Just the very thought of it has an ungodly feeling coming from between my legs.” you whisper.

Father Charlie tries to hold back the low groan that escapes him as he hears your words and his hand is now rubbing against his hard on. “Tell me more.. D-Does this ungodly feeling make you.. You feel wet?” he mutters.

Your eyes widen once again and you nod. “Yes.. Yes.. It’s terrible.. My.. My panties get wet and sometimes sticky against me.. I throb with.. with so much desire for y-.. For this man.. I can’t stand it.” You began to let out soft noises as you picture the father running his hands along your thighs, his head in between them, kissing up to your soaked pussy. Your mind is running wild with the thought.

 Father Charlie’s eyes roll back in desire as you describe it and now he can’t bear it anymore and he slowly undoes his pants and slides his hand in them to pull his cock out. It’s throbbing and hard, precum already dripping from the tip, he spits into his hand and wraps it around his pulsing cock. “Keep going.. T-tell me more..” he hums as he slowly pumps his cock in his hand.

The pitch of his voice sounded a bit different now, but you didn’t think much of it because you were being consumed with your fantasy of him. You run your hand along your panties and you could already feel them being soaked through and it makes a whimper escape you. The entire time Father Charlie is peeking through the holes of the separator as he pleasures himself. “Take ‘em off.. and keep talking..” he mumbles. You don’t hesitate to do as he says and hook your fingers between the hem of your panties and you slowly slide your panties off, your arousal stained on your panties and you gulp slowly. “Oh.. god..” Father Charlie mutters to himself.

“I.. I picture this man with his head between my legs.. He’s wanting to help with the throbbing.. and he.. he…” you stutter over your words. 

“What? What?! What does he do next?” Father Charlie says with an excitement in his voice as his begins to stroke his cock faster, his eyes fixated on your pussy under the dim light.

“He.. He runs his tongue.. along my pussy.. He’s licking up the mess I made in my panties.. Slurping up every last drop.. “ You run two fingers along your swollen throbbing clit and now you let out a loud moan, praying no one else was in the church. Father Charlie’s head leans against the separator as he breathes heavy, watching as you play with yourself and he spits some more on his cock, pumping his hand harder and faster. You continue with your thoughts. “Then he wraps my thighs around his shoulders and he’s buried between my thighs.. His tongue flicking against my clit and then shoving it inside of my pussy.. He’s moaning because I’m so tight around his tongue..” You let out another moan and now your fingers were so wet from your pussy that you slowly slip them inside your tight cunt, you could feel yourself tighten around your fingers and now your back was pressed against the wall of the booth and you’ve brought your legs up against the pew as your legs were spread wide open, completely on display for the father as you moan.

“F.. Fuck…” Father Charlie groans, his cock dripping in precum as he works his hand along the shaft, licking his lips as he watches you fuck yourself. “That’s it.. Good girl... Let those sinful thoughts take over.. G-Give into  your desire..” he mutters between his groans. 

You nodded obediently at his words, completely taken with your own thoughts, completely unaware that he’s getting off to you. Your eyes are shut tight as you shove your fingers deeper into your soaking pussy, the wet sounds echoing within the booth, your breathing heavy and out of control and without even thinking between your moans you say his name. “Oh, father… Yes… Charlie..” you cry out. 

Father Charlie catches this and smirks to himself as his cock pumps in his hand, having revealed that he was the man in your sinful thoughts, this only further provokes his desire and need. Giving him many ideas of how he could use you. He realizes that you haven’t realized what you said. You couldn’t care in this moment as the desire within you was building and soon coming to the surface, a feeling you had never felt before. You felt like you were going to explode. “Father.. I.. A strange feeling is coming over.. over.. me.” You say with a shaky breath. 

“Let it… Let it take over, my child.. Let it out..” he moaned, he was not going to last a minute longer but he wanted to cum when you did.. He wanted to watch you orgasm. Your head is tilted against the wall and your legs trembling and soon your whole body and without realizing it your moans soon turn into loud cries of pleasure as you soon reach your orgasm, cum leaking out of your pussy and onto your fingers and the pew as your body convulses. “Fuck.. yes.. “ Father Charlie mumbles as he reaches his orgasm and he grunts and groans lowly as spurts of his warm cum shoot out of his cock onto the wall of the booth and some of it gets on his suit. “Christ..” he grumbles. 

You whimper softly as you slowly slip your fingers out of your dripping pussy and you’re trying to understand what just happened and what you just did in the church of all places. You look over at Father Charlie though the separator, his head rested against it and he looks sweaty and is breathing hard. His eyes look up at you and now you’re staring at each other for a moment and you could sense what he was doing, but didn’t want to admit that you knew. He clears his throat as he lifts his head up and quickly puts his cock away and buttons his pants back up. You feel so confused now and embarrassed. 

“H..How.. How do you feel now? Thoughts gone?” Father Charlie mutters, fixing his hair.

You swallow nervously as you sit up and push the skirt of your dress back down quickly. “I.. I guess.. My head doesn’t feel as bad. I can think straight again..” you answer. 

He smiles. “Good.. Told you.. Nothing wrong with giving into your desires, Y/N.”

You nod. “And you’re sure this is right? I don’t want to go to hell for doing this in a holy place..” you say nervously. 

Father Charlie laughs. “You’re not going to hell. God wanted you to do this and wanted me to guide you. I think you may need a lot of my help and this should be something I work with you on a weekly basis. We can do it more privately in my office.”

“But father.. I don’t think..” he interrupts you, shaking his head.

“You need this.. Your thoughts are more sinful than I thought.” he says. 

You stay silent. This was all confusing to you, but you couldn’t lie, you did feel a whole lot better. Father Charlie begins to pray to absolve you of your sins. You bow your head and clasps your hands together, praying along with him before signing the cross. “Now go pray five hail marys and our father and I’ll see you next week in my office, Y/N.” he says before he gets up and heads out of the booth. You sit in your side of the booth, pondering what has just happened and then you realize in the heat of the moment what you had moaned out. His name. Was that the real reason why he wanted to continue this? Now the embarrassment really sunk in because now he would think you were just like the rest of the women in the church.. Lusting after him, which you were, but the last thing you wanted was for him to know that. But maybe that’s exactly what he wanted.. To be lusted after. 

Tagging: @nicholasachavez @smokeymountainboy @arianatheangel-girl @suraemoon @aliengoth3 @theycametoconquertheearth53 @suspiciousmindsxo

if you would like to be added to my taglist let me know!

[angelsheartts]

✩‧₊˚ I HOPE NOBODY CATCH US !! .

(but i kinda hope they catch us, anyway)

#pairing : lucifer, adam, alastor, vox x gn reader

#cw: suggestive content, +18 mdni, cuss words lmao, getting caught in suggestive situations ig?? tentacles on alastors part my bad, vox likes to get caught.

#notes: guys please feel free to ask requests, i’m getting out of ideas and i don't know what you all wanna read on my blog help.

PART ll

˖ ˚ ༘✶ LUCIFER .

you both were having a pretty steamy make-out session in your hotel room at the hazbin hotel, clearly not the best idea since everyone was still at the hotel, and HELL does lucifer gets loud.

"ah-, my love, " he whines loudly, pressing his forked tongue deep inside you. feeling him humping against your bedsheets as you wrap your legs around his neck, you knew he was close. "lucifer, you make me feel so gooood~" you moaned, grabbing his horns as you felt like your orgasm was soon to come.

well, nobody warned you how SENSITIVE this man was when someone touched his horns; his wings literally popped out in a second. "fuck, fuck, i’m so close (name); can i cum, honey ? please i-"

a door opened, making lucifer wrap his wings around you both. "(name), i heard some noises. is everything alri-" well, this was akward. "IMSOSORRYISHOULDHAVEKNOCKED" she said, embarrased, closing the door, leaving you and lucifer with a flushed red since you both literally got caught, by HIS daughter WHILE having an orgasm.

after that 'accident' charlie started knocking every time she entered your dorm, and apologised to you many times.

˖ ˚ ༘✶ ADAM .

adam can be very tiring sometimes when keeping his hands to himself, he would literally fuck you anywhere so everyone could see who makes you feel so fucking good if you would just let him, but of course you wouldn’t allow something like that.

except for today, you and adam had a meeting with the other angels so you wouldn’t have guessed that your husband had already been planning on how to convince you to do not-so-holy-things to skip the meeting.

until, you started noticing how touchy he was getting with you, at the beginning it was a playfully kiss on your neck then a slap in you ass and somehow you ended up giving him a blowjob.

"you’re so hot when you shut the fuck up" he said, smirking while gripping your hair tightly to make you go deeper. "fucking bitch, sucking it while having you on your knees, as you fucking should 'cause im the original dick, babe!" letting him talk to you like that reeallyy turned him on, just the thought of you being so obedient to him makes him want to cum.

"what the fuck" a voice made you both turn, noticing a lute with a very disgusted look in her face cursing at you both for being so reckless.

sadly this wasn’t the first time lute walked in on you both, so she just left LMAO.

˖ ˚ ༘✶ ALASTOR .

alastor tries to have the least amount of physical contact during such activities, so it wasn’t a rare occasion for you to finger yourself, while listening to his voice telling you what to do.

you didn’t really know if it was because you were bored, or you were just horny, but you had the urge to have some intimacy with alastor. he didn’t mind because it had been a long time since you both had some intimacy.

"you have been such a good partner, my dear” he praised, smirking widely like he always did. "I think it would only be fair if i give you something in return."

well, that was 15 minutes ago, and now here you were feeling his tentacles thrusting into you so roughly. alastor would only chuckle at your expressions while ocassionaly telling you to touch yourself as he wanted. seeing you trying to get some release made his bulge twitch inside his pants.

well, at least it made it twitch until someone interrupted you both, making your partner disappear the tentacles who were just inside you a few seconds ago.

angel dust was the one who accidentaly walked in on you both, and alastor told him if he ever talked or made jokes about what happened he would transmite his screams on his radio broadcoast. angel dust still teases you though.

˖ ˚ ༘✶ VOX .

vox actually wants you both to get caught, like he really has no shame at all. he loves fucking you if it means that you both might get caught in the act.

sadly, you can’t even recall how you ended up with him having you bend over his desk right before a meeting with the VEES.

surely, you both could have stopped if you wanted, but why would you even consider that when he’s literally vibrating just in the right spot, making you fuzzy from the overstimulation.

"fuck, yeah" your boyfriend's voice is shaky as he keeps thrusting in you, seeing how his cum rolls down your thighs, makes him increase his pace. "you really want us to get caught, don’t you, babe? squeezing me around as if i would even think about fucking pulling it out" he says chuckling with a slight glitch on his voice. "ah- vox, it’s too much i-" vox slapped your ass, making you yelp from pleasure as you were feeling so overwhelmed.

both of you being so close to your orgasm, didn’t noticed when velvette and valentino entered the room until velvette shouted at you both for fucking like animals, and not waiting until being in a more private place, alongside her was just a valentino smirking, while being dragged by velvette. valentino would have been glad to accept the offer if you would have invited him though.

[deadghosy]

THANKS TO @lazyemmy FOR THIS LOVELY IDEA OF THE PENGUIN! READER💗🦆

HAZBIN HOTEL X PENGUIN! READER

prompt: during one extermination an angel had kidnapped you and took you to heaven based off a common mistake

“Quack?” You were literally trying to water the hotel’s flowers when you forgot about extermination….the leader of the exterminators had grabbed you by your sailor outfit Velvette made you.

“Shut your mouth short stuff.” You heard a man’s voice to see a person wearing a horned mask and a golden robe. You panicked as Charlie had told you about a man like this as Adam scoffs seeing your panicked state.

“JEEZ CHILL OUT YOU FUCKIN' BIRD BRAIN!” Adam yells as he enters in the portal of heaven with the exterminators behind him. He plops you down on the clouded floors to see the heavenly gates Charlie tells you in stories

As you waddled you seen a male who seemed to be waiting for you. “Ah! Reader..so glad to have you. It seems as if heaven had made a mistake and sent you to hell.” St. Peter said as he picks you up having the gates open. Your eyes widen at the bright light of heaven as angels walk and smile. “Welcome to your true home [reader]”

The air smelt so clean and not bloody as it seemed so peaceful and holy. After St. Peter getting your room and home ready to stay in heaven. You start to feel a little “home” sick as you hope the hotel crew was doing well and aren’t going crazy.

Which they totally are as Charlie is panicking calling her father.

After a few days , Adam will visit you a lot saying how he got forced to look after you…(he wasn’t forced he just liked how cute and pure you are but he’ll never admit it) Adam makes dumb ass jokes about how all those sinners down there should die and perish as he pats you on your little head. You quacked trying to show some worry for your friends down there.

“Oh them? Hah! They’re probably running like headless chickens looking for your ass.” Adam says with his usual grin as he pops some popcorn in his mouth. “Want some?” He says as he waves a piece of popcorn in your face. you sniffed it and ate it from his hand as adam's eyes widen at your cuteness…

you're like a little baby..💗😭😭😭

Adam grabs your chubby cold cheeks as he faces you towards him. “Never leave here. Okay?” He says seriously low with a protective tone as you quack nodding nervously at how quick this dude got attached to you.

Adam pushes your face away from him smirking. “Good now let’s watch this video I saw off of this human app called ‘TikTok’”

Lute didn’t know how to approach you, but she sends you small gifts that reminds her of you as you just open them like “quack?” And a head tilt confused but take it in anyways.

I imagine lute literally being your bodyguard when you don’t have any work to do as she just pushes anyone who gets to close to you away. LIKE IT COULD BE AN OLD LADY AND SHE WOULD BE LIKE “BITCH MOVE!���😭

After the 3rd day of the 1 week of being in heaven, lute definitely got overprotective of you. Always keeping tabs on where you go and which house you deliver mail to. I mean who knows what would happen to a cute soul like you? (A/n: Omg this sounds like a yandere…)

The angels love how adorable you are as they pet you. Immediately you are popular just like how you are popular in hell. Sera has given you a job as a mail boy again as you smile.

I can see St.Peter visit you when he isn’t on duty or just when someone takes his spot so he can say hi and hang out with you.

You wear a cute little yellow and white mail delivery fit thanks to sera who got a designer to get you to fit it perfectly.

You love how you still got your delivery job as you leave a cookie on the front porches of the angels. It’s like your significant signature to others to have a good day.

Adam and lute were arguing one time in front of you and you sniffled not liking the loud noises and immediately, and surprisingly. Adam and Lute pretended everything was okay to make you happy as Adam picked you up and took you away to get your favorite snack for you.

Sera checks on you as well with Emily by her side as Emily just finds you so cute and is excited to get to hang out with you more.

Emily immediately hugs and kisses your head amused by your small and kind soul she sees in you.

Sera would like to take you on stroll on week 2. She’d like to show you around heaven with Emily as she hold you in her arms gushing chow cute you are.

NOW I CAN IMAGINE YOU AND EMILY GOING ON A SHOPPING SPREE TO EXPLORE NEW CLOTHING AESTHETIC ✨💗

You showed yourself to be an angel by spirit as you helped a kid get a new lollipop, which makes sera smile at you being helpful as he is glad to hav with here in heaven and not they “ratchet” place.

You do miss hell as it had your friends who you got use to….you hoped they were still doing okay down there.

MEANWHILE IN HELL: “OMG OMG I CANT BELIEVE THEY GOT KIDNAPPED…IM A BAD FRIENDDD” “HON DONT WORRY, YOUR DAD CAN FIND A WAY TO GET THEM..” “it’s okay fat nuggets, they’ll come back…” *sad oink* and everyone else is having their own panic moment in their own way.

MEANWHILE BACK IN HEAVEN: “quack.” You said looking up at adam who holds your hand. “Huh? Jeeezzz bird brain..stop worrying about those loser down there…they’re fine without you.” Adam says smirking knowing damn well they aren’t .

Emily holds your hand as you waddle quacking at the ice creams around here. They taste so much better as your eyes sparkle at this sweet flavored treat. Emily squeals as her eyes got big and took a pic of your happy face. Sera most definitely got the picture on her heaven phone as her face soften seeing the new angel in heaven enjoying their self.

I imagine Adam is the one to be the one who claims to be the closest to you. But really he just brags about himself to you about how much sinners he kills.

I headcannon for your wings to be little cute fairy looking wings or pure white ones as you just fly.

You definitely have cherubim in heaven which makes the angels find you more adorable as the delivery boy.

You had made an account literally one day, and instantly you got 2 million followers which made you shock as Adam just munches on snacks while you quack panicked at how quick you became famous here.

I headcannon St. Peter to send you cookies with those cute little penguin designs on it. It looks like Christmas cookies but they are so cute and tasty

Say for example you fell and you couldn’t get up as you’re so rounded 😭 LITERALLY ALL YOU CAN DO IS ROLL AND SQEUAK AND QUACK💗 Adam is laughing as he takes a picture and video for himself before helping you up.

I can imagine Adam and Sera having a schedule out to plan who gets it hang out with you on weeks and days 😭

You liked the herbal tea they had as you waddle around with Adam having a kid leash on you as he just looked bored.

At the end of the week, you were sleeping wearing a whole ass cute gown Adam bought you as he literally dropped it on you with a flustered face seeing your cute smile.

As you slept…Lucifer snuck into heaven and snatched you up leaving a “fuck you” letter to Adam. Don’t even question how he got into heaven. Just be glad he took you.

[rory-cakes]

Alastor's Birdy

Alastor wasn’t a good man. 

In fact, he was no longer a man at all. 

He was the Radio Demon, an overlord of hell, owner of souls, and host of the Hazbin Hotel. 

The only evidence that he was ever human was the gold band worn around his ring finger. No one seemed to notice it; if they did, they didn’t dare ask. 

Not much was known about the terrifying radio demon. The others at the hotel often wondered about the origins of the great Alastor Altruist. 

Well, not until Mimzy comes along.

“Alastooor, Sweetie, doll-face! So good to see you. How’ve ya been? Good? Good.”

Alastor hugs the small woman while everyone stares in confusion. 

“Listen, I was in the neighborhood! I heard you were staying at this ritzy ditzy slob factory-”

A glint of gold catches the light.

“Oh! By the way, where’s your little birdy?”

Alastor’s who? The confusion only continued to grow in the room. 

“Oh, Mimzy, you know she would never have ended up down here.”

Who are they talking about?

“Ah yes, she was such a kind soul. The best of the best.”

Finally, someone asks. 

“Yo! Lady! Who ya talkin' about?”

“His missus, of course!”

His what?

“YOU WERE MARRIED?!”

Alastor’s eye twitched as private information about his life came to light.

“I am married; we never divorced.”

Everyone stared in disbelief. How could anyone marry Alastor, of all people? 

Wait-

“You said she would never have ended up down here. Does that mean that your wife is in heaven? Is she an angel?”

“Charlie, don’t be ridiculous! No one that good could have married him!” 

Mimzy pipes up,

“She’s right. Y/n Altruist was too good for the world and sang like a canary!” 

That she did…

“I fell in love with you the first time I looked into

Them there eyes

You've got a certain little cute way of flirtin' with

Them there eyes”

All eyes gazed upon the stage. His little birdy was much like him in how they entranced others with their voices. If all he heard for the rest of eternity was that beautiful song of hers, then he could die a happy man. 

“They make me feel happy

They make me blue

No stallin', I'm fallin'

Going in a great big way for sweet little you”

It was never supposed to last. It was just for a while to make him seem more normal. To hide his less than socially acceptable hobbies. But she was light, and he was a moth to a flame. As he felt the weight of the box in his hand he wondered how someone like him got blessed with someone like her. 

“My heart is jumpin', you sure started something with

Them there eyes

You'd better watch them if you're wise

They sparkle, they bubble

They're gonna get you in a whole lot of trouble

You're overworkin' them, there's danger lurkin' in

Them there eyes”

Her eyes brightened as they landed on him sitting at his usual table in the back. He was done with work early and had come to pick her up so they could walk home together. 

“I fell in love with you the first time I looked into

Them there eyes

You've got a certain little cute way of flirtin' with

Them there eyes” 

HIS. She was his. He was hers. They were each others.

The only proof that Alastor was ever human was the gold band around his ring finger.

A/N: Here's the fic lol @mag-chan

part 2

[altruisticalastor]

↳˗ˏˋAlastor x Readerˊˎ˗ ↴

☒ Summary: You were Alastor's weakness. Something about you drew him closer into your orbit. He knew this weakness would be his downfall, but he couldn't pull back. No matter how hard he tried.

☒ Contains: fluff, gender!neutral reader, slightly angsty undertones, affectionate!Alastor, also possessive!Alastor, sleeping together (literally), implied established relationship, cuddles, one forehead kiss, Alastor undresses the reader but it is not sexual

☒ Word Count: 1,374

Alastor was alluring. 

The mystery surrounding the radio demon made the man all the more interesting to you. The moment Alastor showed up at your friend Charlie's Hotel all those months back, his gaze fixated on you.

His crimson gaze was intimidating at first. But as more time passed, Alastor's stare became somewhat of a solace to you. You felt safe around him. Especially because overtime he seemed to become possessive with you.

Any time you would get a little too close to the other patrons at the Hotel, Alastor's eye would twitch. He would be at your side in an instant- ushering you away. Keeping his hand firm at your waist as he shot the poor sinner a death glare. 

It was flattering, really. You just didn't seem to understand why. 

Why you? 

But hey, you weren't complaining. Plus, it was probably best not to question it. 

It had been an overwhelmingly exhausting day at the hotel. Charlie had you working overtime in preparation for the newcomers ready to be redeemed. You couldn't help but yawn as you trailed down the corridor. Sleepily swaying from side to side as your half-lidded eyes got heavier with each step. 

Suddenly, you felt yourself slam face-first into something- or rather, someone. 

"Careful now, my dear! If you don't watch where you're going, you could end up in a rather dangerous predicament!"

The static crackle in his voice was all too familiar; Alastor.

One of his hands came up to your waist; fingers playfully tapping along your side. Alastor's other hand grasped your chin, tilting your face up so he could get a good look at you.

"My, my! You're looking rather worn down, my dearest! Seems like Charlie's working you to the bone, hm?"

His Cheshire-like smile caught your eye before your gaze met his crimson orbs. Alastor's eyebrows were knitted in concern, making your heart flutter in your chest. 

"Ah, sorry for running into you, Al. I'm just really sleepy. It's been a long day," Your yawn cut you off before you could say more. Your arms snaked around his slender neck as you rested your head against his chest.

Alastor and yourself never discussed the gravity of your relationship. He was bad with feelings, and even worse at expressing them. What you two had was an unspoken thing, and you felt honored to be able to embrace him in this way; knowing no one else had the privilege to do so.

Alastor let out a low hum, static grumbling in his chest. The vibrations lulled you further into dreamland. That was until Alastor's hands swiftly pulled your thighs up, and on instinct, your legs wrapped around his slender waist. Your eyes fluttered open from the swift gesture, and you tilted your head to read Alastor's expression. 

"Al... what are you doing?" You mumbled softly, tightening your hold around the back of his neck as he began his descent down the hall. 

"Why, I'm taking you to our room, my dearest! Seems as though it's way past your bedtime." His radio static voice held a playful undertone as he pulled the bedroom door open. Carefully, Alastor placed you at the edge of your shared bed. 

On most nights, you slept while he worked on his plans for the next broadcast. Alastor rarely slept, but he adored the peaceful sounds of your labored breaths while you rested. Your captivating visage distracted him- only slightly, most nights while he typed up his script. You were just too adorable for your own good, too entrusting. Too tempting.

"Arms up, my dear!" Alastor quipped in a sing-song voice. Sharp gloved fingernails grazed the bare skin of your waist as he tugged your shirt over your head. You shivered slightly from the touch, a coy smile adorning your features as Alastor worked on removing your pants next. 

Alastor hummed along to a tune you couldn't quite put your finger on as he finished undressing you. You couldn't help how your heart pounded against your ribcage from the way his crimson orbs raked over your frame. Strangely, you felt like he was looking at you as if you were his prey. It sent a wave of adrenaline through your entire being.

"No need to feel demure, my darling. You are truly breathtaking! Quite a sight for sore eyes." His voice lowered slightly at the end of his sentence. Alastor made himself comfortable between your parted thighs as he began undressing himself, crimson gaze never once leaving yours. 

He allowed his overcoat and bowtie to cascade to the floor as he unbuttoned his red dress shirt, slumping it off his broad shoulders. "Thank you, Al... you flatter me too much," You chuckled softly, looking at him quizzically as he began looping your arms through his crimson button-up. 

"Nonsense, my dearest! I speak nothing but the truth." Alastor's voice softened as he fastened a couple of buttons of his shirt around your frame, leaving it rather loose-fitting on you. You smiled up at him softly as he lifted you up once more, carrying you to your side of the bed. Slowly, Alastor lifted the sheets, tucking you under them snuggly.

"There, now my darling is ready for bed!" He cooed. Placing a gentle kiss on your forehead before darting back up. Just as Alastor was about to turn on his heel to begin his work for the night, your hand wrapped around his wrist. Alastor slowly turned his head, gaze fixated on where your delicate fingers held him.

"Al... can you lay with me? Only for a little- just until I doze off, please?" Your pleading eyes struck something deep from within him. Alastor swore you were his biggest weakness of all, though he would never admit it aloud. Let alone allow any lowly wretch to discover his drawback; you. 

"Well, how can I deny such a sweet little request from you? You did say please, after all!" Alastor wasted no time slithering in beside you, pushing you gently toward his side of the bed. His scarred flesh was cold to the touch as your hands came up to his bare chest. Alastor stiffened slightly under your touch before allowing himself to relax into the plush mattress. 

Alastor let out a hum of approval as you drew shapes into his chest with your fingertips. "Thank you, my love," You yawned. Finally, permitting your droopy eyes to close shut for good tonight. Alastor quietly shushed you before bringing his hands to your waist, holding you firmly against him. 

He became accustomed to your touch, something Alastor never believed would be true in his case. But you were just darling; he couldn't get enough. You were his and his alone. He would make sure everyone in Hell who dared to lay a single finger on you would be the next guest on his broadcast. 

Alastor's smile deepened as he played out his little murder fantasy in his head. Your labored breaths began filling the dimly lit space. The crickets chirped quietly from beyond the forest on the other side of the room. Your legs were tangled beneath the sheets as you sleepily weaved your hands in his two-toned locks. Alastor's breath hitched as your fingernails lightly grazed the base of his ears. A crimson color coated his cheeks. 

As Alastor allowed himself to succumb to your touch, his mind wandered. Just how did he get so soft? How did he allow you to sneak your way into his cold dead heart? His feelings were conflicting. Alastor cared for you deeply, but fuck did it frighten him more than anything. He was a prideful man, cool, calm, and collected. But you caused his mask to slip ever so slightly. 

Just what was he to do about this revelation?

A small sigh crackled out of his throat as his smile slipped; a rare sight to be seen. Alastor's eyes closed softly as he rubbed small circles into your hips with the pads of his thumbs. Allowing himself to drift off into a deep slumber. 

The workload would still be there in the morning after all, but this moment with you was fleeting. So he planned on greedily allowing himself to enjoy your embrace to the fullest tonight. 

[voxslays]

Rut Season Alastor x Reader

Smut. Pure Smut.

When November rolled around, Alastor's antlers became itchy and the velvet rubbed off as he desperately tried to stave off the breeding season. Now the Radio Demon, Hell's strongest Overlord, was locked up in his room, desperately humping against the bed, imagining a loving partner he could mate with. The desire to breed a beautiful female was ever so present. He let out sharp cries every time he grinned against the mattress, trying desperately to hold himself back. "H-Haah~! Haah~! Fuck, fuck, fuck~!" From within his room, with rut warnings posted all over his door, you could hear him desperately trying to cum, but to no avail. He couldn't cum without a mate right now. Tears of sexual frustration welled in his eyes as his humping became more desperate. 

“Hey Alastor?” You say as you walk into the room, unaware. 

Alastor was so engrossed in his rut that he didn't hear the door open. He continued to hump against the bed, his tail lashing back and forth behind him. The smell of his pheromones filled the room, a heavy, musky scent that was hard to ignore. 

As soon as you start to close the door, Alastor freezes mid-hump. His tail whipping around to face you. His eyes are wild, dilated with lust. "What are you doing here?" he growls, his voice barely recognizable. Get out!" *He points to the door, his hand shaking with the effort to control himself. You look away. “Charlie told me to tell you that dinner is being served!” You say, embarrassed.

Alastor's stomach grumbled loudly at the mention of food, but his body's urgent need for release was far stronger. "I-I can't... I-I'm in rut." He let out a sharp cry, his body convulsing as he desperately tried to find release. “Oh- Uhm-” You pause. “That makes sense I guess..” Alastor's tail presses tightly to his waist, squeezing him against the bed as he continues to hump, his cries growing louder and more desperate. "F-Fuck... I need to... I need to breed..." His eyes roll back in his head, and he begins to thrash wildly.

You just stand there awkwardly before deciding to leave. “I'm just gonna go-”

“M-Mate with me!" He let out a primal roar, his antlers crashing against the headboard. His eyes, wild with desire, locked onto you. "Anything... please... just..." He paused. His arms wrap around your waist, pulling you towards the bed. His strength is overpowering, and you find yourself being dragged towards him. “Alastor just wait a moment-!”

He's beyond reasoning now, his mind clouded by the intense need to breed. His tail tightens around you, pulling you down onto the bed with him. He growls, his voice low and menacing. "Can't... wait... I… need... you… now…” He pants. 

His antlers catch the light as he leans down, his hot breath fanning across your face. "Please... let me mate with you..." His arms wrap around your legs, spreading them wide as he grinds his hips against yours, his erection pressing against you. “I'll help you.” You say. His eyes widen, then roll back in his head as he lets out a roar of triumph. He starts to paw at her clothes, growling possessively. “Mine, you're mine... I'll breed you so hard…” His arms unwrap from your legs and he reaches down to unbuckle his pants, freeing his engorged member. With a loud growl, he enters you, his hips moving violently as he begins to breed. The sound of your bodies slapping together fills the room, and his antlers catch in your hair as he leans down to bite your neck, marking you as his. "FUCK~..."

He continues to move, his hips thrusting with a wild, animalistic rhythm. He can't help but let out loud, growling grunts with each thrust. “Fuck~... So tight… Ah! Say my name!” He leans down once again, his fangs grazing her earlobe. “Alastor!” You cry. He grins, his eyes fluttering shut as she speaks his name. He grinds his hips into hers, burying himself deep. “Good girl…” He praises, his voice thick and heavy. He leans down, claiming her mouth in a deep, passionate kiss, his tongue dominating her own.

His movements become even more frenzied as he nears his peak. His tail wraps tightly around your waist, holding you in place as he breeds you hard and fast. He soon lets go. "FUCK..." He collapses on top of you, his body still trembling with the aftershocks of his orgasm. His tail unwraps from your waist and reaches down to touch your stomach, as if checking to make sure his seed has taken hold. "Mmm... I hope you're fertile..."

“W-what!?” You ask, taken aback. He nuzzles your neck, his voice contented. "I hope you're fertile... I want you to have my fawn... or several. His arms wrap possessively around you, and he lets out a purring sound. “​​A-Alastor-!” You say, extremely flustered. He silences you with a kiss, his tail tightening around you. "Shh... no regrets... You're mine now... my mate... His tail begins to slowly rub against you, its movements soothing yet possessive. "And you'll bear my young.” 

His tail continues to rub against you, its movements becoming more insistent. He breaks the kiss and nuzzles your neck, his voice low. "I can feel my seed inside you... It would be such a shame if it was all for nothing..." He stands up, his arms still wrapped around your waist. He carries you to the bathroom, setting you down on the counter. He turns on the shower and steps inside, pulling you in with him. "We'll give it a little push, just in case."

He turns you to face the shower wall and pushes your legs apart, his tail spreading them further. He reaches under you and rubs your belly gently, his other hand holding your hips in place. "Hold this position..." He begins to rub your belly in slow, rhythmic motions, his tail keeping your legs spread wide. The warm water cascades down on you both, and his voice rumbles in his chest as he purrs contentedly, his arms tightening possessively around you. "There... that should do it..." He says.

He turns off the shower and helps you out, drying you off with a large, fluffy towel. He carries you back to the bed and settles in beside you, his arm around your waist. "Get some rest, my dear..” He says. 

Masterlist

[genderlessdude92]

GENTLE, PLEASE

PAIRING: Alastor x Wife!Reader SUMMARY: Y/N, like the nervous wreck she is, can’t stop spending her free time worrying over something that’s not even a big deal. Of course, one thing lead to another. (Thank you, Charlie, for letting them have the day off). WARNINGS: (SFW) Reader is female, Reader is hellborn, Reader is VERY anxious (alastor as well, but not too much), reader is sensitive obv, angel is angel, usage of y/n, established relationship cussing on both parts, Alastor owns readers soul. (NSFW) alastor’s pain kink shows a little bit, lingerie, reader is TIGHT, reader is also virgin but is registered adult!!!, mention of a safeword, p in v, slight orgasm denial, reader’s tears, soul-chain bondage, alastor knots. Mentions of pregnancy^^ idk if there’s angst in this that counts but both have a good ending so dw (LMK if i missed anything!!!!)

NOTICE: please don't copy or steal or translate any of my work or you will be haunted in your dreams and i will spawn something unpleasant at your porch the next day. But...thanks for liking my work !! >.< Property of @l4zyb0n35 and @genderlessdude92

Requests are open, support is highly appreciated!

〰ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭ ..。.:*･ﾟ♫₊ ♪ *♬‧₊enjoy!~

Alastor was a man of his word.

Y/N was sitting in her room, tired from her piece of vibrating plastic that brang her ‘pleasure’.

“You look gorgeous in your bliss, darling.”

Whenever Alastor rubbed her, ate her out, it made her feel real pleasure, though.

But, did he?

What was real pleasure?

“I’m too big for you, sweetheart, maybe another time.”

Another time.

Did he want another time?

“You’re almost like Charlie’s mother, Hah! We’d make great parents.”

The look he gave you.

Y/N felt so relieved after hearing Charlie was going up to heaven for a meeting just a moment ago, but now all of these stupid…that’s mean. All these overwhelming thoughts were plaguing her head.

She threw the piece of plastic across the room.

She had to give him something.

when was the last time you talked to him? when was the last time you crossed paths with your husband during work? when was the last time you cooked for him?

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

22:10 PM

She couldn’t sleep.

Was she good enough?

Ugh.

She put on a flimsy oversized shirt she usually wears to bed, some polka-dot pajama shorts, and white, knee-high socks.

She didn’t bother to change her underwear garments from the night before.

Y/N looked around before heading out of her hotel room, in case anybody saw her, to Alastor’s room.

Y/N was so happy when Alastor ‘accidentally’ mapped her room next to his on one of the secluded floors when the hotel was being rebuilt. How happy she was, indeed.

Knock knock knock

Silence. but only for a moment before she heard and felt the soft familiar static come closer to the other side of the door.

“Come in, mon cher.” He greeted as he opened the door, stepping aside. His room looked neat and clean, unlike Y/N’s. mostly because there wasn’t much stuff…and he had a whole bayou, making the room bigger.

She nervously walked over the the edge of his bed and sat down, breathing in the smell of his familiar cologne.

“Whats keeping you up so late? you’re usually a slumbering baby at this time of night!” He chortled, sitting down next to her on the plush bed of his.

Fuck.

He was wearing silk pajama pants and a robe, but the robe was just barely tied tightly, exposing a majority of his chest. His monocle was placed elsewhere and his hair was slightly disheveled.

Crap, you woke him up didn’t you.

“…I don’t know.” You dumbass, wrong answer! she scolded at herself.

Alastor chuckled again, “Just missed me?” he asked.

That reminded Y/N of back then. When it was simple and new between them. Before they went to this hotel, decades ago when the two met. She would always go over to his manor in the middle of the night after roaming the streets and feeling lonely.

Ah, yes. Now i have to work for the princess.

“…Yeah…missed you.” Y/N forced a smile alongside that little white lie.

He sighed, “…Alright, what’s going on?” He placed a place on her tensed shoulder, rubbing it soothingly, gently.

Cornered. Y/N didn’t have a choice, “Do you…Do always mean it when…fuck- when you s-say you-um- want to have a child with me?” She said without breaking her eye contact to the floor.

You didn’t have to say it like that, fucking hell

Alastor’s movements froze. “…a…um…” His smiled turned strained, “-a spawn?”

Y/N teared up. there was no way she was getting out of this one.

She whimpered, “…sorry.” before her hands shot up to her face, Alastor grabbed her wrist-

“I would love to. Y-You know I am a man of my word…” Alastor confessed with a chuckle, “-But…only if you are comfortable with it, mon amour.” Alastor went to her eyes level to try and meet her eyes.

Y/N froze. Her tears stopped.

…Holy fuck.

Y/N looked at him, to search for any disapproving emotion in his eyes.

None.

“…I-I want to.” Y/N confessed back, “…too.”

Alastor’s smile softened, he pulled Y/N with ease into him lap, “I’m glad,” and immediately kissed her.

The kiss was soft, sensual, gentle, even. Alastor’s hands began to roam under her shirt once she opened her mouth for him.

Alastor broke away from the kiss for a moment, a string of saliva connecting to their lips, “Y/N…?” he tugged on her shirt.

Oh god, what do i say?

“…Is there something wrong?” Y/N silently panicked.

Alastor widened his eyes for a moment but then softened his demeanor, “You shirt. Can i take it off?” He kissed her lips once more.

Fucking idiot. A brain dead patient would’ve known what that meant.

“…Yes.” She smiled nervously as he broke the the kiss.

Alastor nodded before bunching the hem of her shirt in his claws, “arms up, dear.”

As Y/N put her arms up, letting him gently take off her shirt, Alastor noticed how she was…wearing lingerie.

The lingerie that she wore the night before.

see what i did there

As Y/N put her arms down, she noticed how Alastor was staring at her under garments…

That she didn’t change from last night.

Y/N squeaked and ripped the bra off her body, tossing it away and into the bayou.

Now you’re bra-less.

Y/N slowly look up at Alastor, afraid he was going to scold her for not caring about her hygiene and stuff like that.

Alastor had always scolded her for skipping certain chores to, ‘take the weight off Alastor and Nifty’s shoulders’ whether it be showers, making the bed…laundry.

Dirty landry.

Alastor sighed, “I love you, Y/N,” He laughed softly, “-my clumsy doe.” He finished the sentence with a lustful growl, his claws tickled down her spine, arching her back.

“…I…I love you, t-“ almost immediately, Y/N was pinned down into the center of the bed, Alastor lips crashing onto hers like a starved man.

Fuck yeah, it was hot.

Alastor began to knead his claws at her breasts, squishing them so.

he grinder himself to her clothed core, making her throb for his touch, some contact. It almost felt like all those other times.

…but…it didn’t feel right.

Alastor, after needing a breath of air, noticed the tiniest hint of this, and grown worried,

“Are you alright, dearest?” He checked in.

She was unsure. Yeah, she was in the mood…but she just felt nervous, and he felt so confident.

“…anything i could do?” Alastor questioned once more, still hovering over her, his antlers slightly sizing down.

Think, Y/N, you were fine before, what was he doing before…

“…can you um…be gentle?” She winced, thinking that she sounded like some kind of needy loser. Oh, lord-

“-Why…o-of course, mon cœur.” he reassured, rubbed his thumbs over her small, plush breasts because kissing her once again.

Nothing could have compared more to how satisfied Alastor felt when she moaned.

It wasn’t a pornographic moan either, it was…natural. needing, almost.

Once Alastor slipped his tongue into her awaiting mouth, he began to unwrap his robe, tossing it to the ground and leaving his chest bare for her.

She gasped, “Oh, Al…” before she could wrap her arms around his neck, she felt him tug at her loose shorts,

“May I, darling?~”

Y/N nodded like a frantic woman, lifting her bottom up so he could take off her shorts, awaiting to find her panties completely soaked.

He pushed her bottom down with ease, “Dear, you seem to be completely moist,” Alastor commenting with the low vibration of static in his voice, making Y/N blush frantically. “Tell me, what turn you on so much? Perhaps…” Alastor swiped a finger through her panties, making her yelp. He then brang it back up to his mouth and licked itc moaning softly, “…was it my switch in demeanor?”

Y/N clenched as the sight. Alastor scooted back and lowered herself to her pussy, licking her slowly through the cloth guarding her. When he got to the location of her pearl, he pushed his tongue down onto it, receiving a moan from the receiver.

But his tongue wasn’t enough at the moment.

She wanted more.

“N-no…please, Alastor…I want you.” Y/N pleaded. she was impatient, she couldn’t just sit there and go through what was the usual.

She needed more.

He growled. “Anything for you, ma lumière.” Like an inpatient man, he tapped the bottom of her butt, signaling her to raise it. She did so, and almost immediately did he swiped her panties off of her, resulting in a gasp from Y/N.

Alastor crawled over so his pelvis was just on top of her. standing straight on his knees.

Alastor unbuttoned his silk pajama pants, his hard cock springing free right out of his boxers.

Nothing could have prepared Y/N from how big it looked.

Estimating, it was probably 7.5 inches minimum, and have mercy on her-

It was seriously…thick.

She looked up at Alastor worried. Alastor noticed this and softened his expression,

“You’ll be okay. I’ll go slow for you.”

Y/N nodded, but it certainly didn’t make her feel any better. She was still clenching her womanhood as well, just slightly at the thought of how bad this might hurt.

Alastor sighed. “The safeword is…stop.” Alastor told her. Hopefully that would make her feel safer.

…she opened for him.

When Alastor looked down to examine her, he saw how each second she opened, her juices would stick to her pussy’s lips in strings.

His dick physically throbbed more.

After hooking her legs up and around her waist, he lowered his body down more so that his cock was in lined with her vagina.

Slowly, he rubbed his length up down down through her folds, collecting as much natural lube as he could for her pleasure.

-But the sounds definitely weren’t helping, making Y/N face glow a darker tint of red than before. So, she just zoned out to the rumble of Al’s static.

What snapped her out of her zoning, although, was the burning of her hole, hissing in discomfort.

“Shhh…” Alastor hushed, “Just let me put the tip in, then i’ll stop.” Alastor, still, waited for confirmation.

Fucking pussy, Y/N thought, can’t even take the tip?!-

“o-okay.” She grasped onto his shoulder for an anchor in the pain. I can get through this.

Alastor still gave her a moment before shoving the full tip in, making her wince in pain, squeezing his shoulder.

Alastor hushed her again, “relax for me, darling…” he lowered his mouth to her left nipple, softly suckling on the nub, and effort to ease the pain. As Y/N released more moans, bringing one of her hands up to rub the lonely breast.

After a moment to let her settle around him, he pulled away from her nipple with a pop, bringing her hand back up to his shoulder.

“Just relax for me…” Alastor suggested before closely pushing some more length into her. “You,” he groaned, “You’re doing so good for me…”

How is she so tight?

Tears began to form in Y/N’s waterline. Alastor looked up at the sight and pondered what he could do. After a few moments, he stopped until he was just halfway into her, he leaned down once more to place his lips on her tears, her forehead, and then her lips, whispering affirmations in the middle of each kiss.

…was this too slow?

Y/N couldn’t believe her thoughts.

She pulled away from his lips to speak, “A-Al…put it in…i’m ready…” she requested with desperation in her tone, “i need all of you…”

Alastor looked up at him to spot a lie in the process, “Are you sure, my love-“

“Alastor, fuck me.”

That made Alastor moan, which then turned into a growl as Alastor subconsciously grew into a slightly bigger form of himself, snapping his hips with force into her.

Y/N cried out, but silenced Alastor before he could say anything, “S-Start moving, Al, please…” She took one of her hands off a shoulder to rub her nub, moaning softly as the newly added pleasure mixed with him slowly bottom out before snapping back into her.

He repeated this motion for a moment before slowly picking up her pace, making her moans short between thrusts.

“A-Alastor, ngh…” She called for him, grasping onto his shoulder once again. She tried to pull him down for a kiss.

“Use your words, m…mon cher.” he breathed and he kept his euphoric pace.

“K-Kiss me…” Y/N pleaded through her moans.

Alastor quickly leaned down to peck her lips before breaking the quick kiss,

“I’m gonna fill you…” He quickened his pace, his form becoming more menacing as his antlers grew, “with my seed.” He finished his sentence by smashing his lips onto hers.

As Y/N’s legs began to slip, he quickly used his tendrils to press them to her chest,

Positioning her into a breeding press.

“Ah…A-Alastor…I’m gonna-ah!” Alastor changed his pace to a brutal, electrifying one.

Y/N didn’t even care if he were to be gentle, she just wanted that sweet relief of relea-

“You don’t cum until i say so, darling.” a green shackle on Y/N’s left ankle appeared as a warning. “Understood? Those are our rules of the bedroom.”

He wasn’t wrong there. Those were the rules. He never wanted to feel under-powered in the bedroom at all, so that included orgasm denial.

And Y/N was completely fine with it.

But how quick and hard he’s hitting that far spot in her walls?

Just made her feel like there was no control.

“Alastor, please…” Y/N let tears she didn’t know we’re building up fell.

Alastor hushed her comfortingly, “Sweetheart-fuck-sweetheart, y-you’re almost there…” Alastor could feel himself knot inside of her,

…He wasn’t even sure that he was knotting until Y/N’s moans turned into groans.

He swiped some tears off her cheeks, “Mon cœr, you’re r-ready to cum?” he shot one of his tendrils down to her pussy, rubbing it at a rapid pace. Alastor leaned down to whisper into her ear, the static in his voice now on mute, “cum for me, then.”

That’s when the coil snapped.

The same time when Alastor spilt him seed deep into her womb.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

23:04 PM

Y/N was exhausted.

“Darling, i need you to sit up for a moment.” Alastor demanded.

Y/N groaned like a toddler.

“…fine.” Alastor put down the glass of water onto the nightstand, taking one knee and placing it sorely onto the bed to get closer to her, his shadow helping to lift her butt up as he wiped extra semen off of her.

after a moment of him disappearing into the bathroom, he came back looking neat and ready for bed.

…with a genuine smile on his face as his eyes met your tired ones.

Alastor went to the other side on the bed, sighing as he felt the soft surface under him.

He scooted closer to Y/N to get her under the blankets, dramatic, he thought as Y/N made a whine of protest again from the movement.

Once everything felt to his liking, he laid down next to her. and pulled her close, nuzzling his cheek into her hair.

“…Hey…Al?”

“mhm?”

“…I love you…”

He softened his smile, chuckling light-heartedly,

“…I love you two, as well.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

BONUS ☆♪

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“Hey, sweet cheeks,” Angel called from the other side of the lobby, walking over to Y/N, “Still up for that event thingy at the new bar? Heard that the sharks are blackl-“

Angel stared at the sight before him.

Y/N, laying on the couch with her legs slightly spread and a heating pad on the thighs.

“…Don’t-“

“Is it just me, or do i see you…a supposed to be virgin friend of mine…sore from a…” He examines the current position for a moment, walking around the couch to stand in front of her, “…breeding press position.”

Y/N stares at him like he’s her next target on a murder spree.

And which, he probably was.

“What? I’m and expert with this kind of stuff,” He pulls out his phone and sits next to you, “forget that I work for Valentino? Damn, how good was that sex?”

“Angel, if you want to keep the ability of having sex, be quiet.”

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END NOTES: I felt rlly devious making this fic 😍 But all jokes aside, i rlly need some writing tips since this is literally my first fic ever 😭

-Lynn

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Masterlist link