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hazelfoureyes · 5 months

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⟢Alastor x Cupid FemReader Tasked with making a demon believe in true love or you can’t return to heaven, things immediately go off the rails when you hurt yourself and Alastor catches one of your most troubling arrows; Mania

˚₊ · »-♡→ Week 1 and Week 2 ˚₊ · »-♡→Week 3 and Week 4 smut💦 ˚₊ · »-♡→Week 5, Week 6, Week 7, and Epilogue smut💦

Alastor demands you tell him what you’d consider a nice date, which makes a surprisingly lovely time in the library. Dancing leads to… not dancing and a minor rearranging of your guts. And finally, you try to shame Alastor out of Mania and Alastor finds himself having to explain, well, Alastor.

「warnings/promises: Smut, guts➡️rearranged, kinda dub➡️con cuz Alastor still doesn’t listen, but funnily enough neither do you?, lots of interrupting each other, Luci’s hat, you’re down so fucking bad lmao」

🎶 minors DNI 🎵

Angel was live blogging everything you said when you recounted what happened to you after returning to the hotel.

“Wait there’s a character limit, I gotta make a new post.” He was wiping actual tears from his eyes, “Fuck this is funny.”

“Hmmph,” Alastor offered a small noise from his end of the sofa. Neither of you had mentioned or even referenced the sex. There was a strange feeling between you that it didn’t happen so it didn’t need a discussion. But also that it had absolutely happened, as Alastor’s hands found renewed vigor in their search for you when in public and private and your body seemed to respond in kind. You’d still occasionally move his hand off of you, but there was a pulse of electricity every time. When his hand would come to rest on your upper thigh while seated beside each other in the common areas, you let it linger. What harm was it? Heaven wasn’t fucking watching.

Everything aside, the sex had done nothing to dispel his interest. Perhaps you’d only made it worse, for both of you.

By midweek you found the sling useless, happily tossing it aside and beginning gentle stretches. That was more progress than you'd made in your main task.

Every morning you woke up beside Alastor, every day you had him in your orbit, every night you fell asleep feet from him.

Had Mania not taken him he would be a prime candidate for showing the virtue of true love. He was already fucking there, a captive audience. But that wasn’t how it worked. Cupid-induced manic love could never be true. Nothing you created was true, really. But atleast with Eros or Agape you could still have added the notion of true love to the mix. His heart would still be receptive and open to the idea. The way he was now, you could proselytize until you were blue in the face and he’d still think manic love was true love.

An unintended consequence of living with Alastor was discovering you both had quite a bit in common, as much as that information irked you. He enjoyed horror movies such as ‘Dracula’, you enjoyed horror movies as well, just newer ones. Ones in color. He could cook quite well, something you enjoyed to do. And his taste in music was actually lovely. You had assumed he listened to screams on a 7 hour loop.

Actually, upon closer inspection, Alastor was nothing like you had initially assumed. While he had shown you he was capable of terrifying feats of strength and power, he was also remarkably gentle. Every time you descended the stairs his hand was barely felt as it hovered at your elbow ready to save you.

Early in the week you fell asleep watching the group play a board game, somehow redemption related, and awoke with his coat laid over your body. When you thanked him, he just smiled and continued enjoying watching Niffty hide the play money.

You were finding yourself more and more wishing the arrow had never fallen. If you’d just met him as you fell, perhaps you would be staring into that portal home. There were definitely worse options around. Even his imposing height had begun to…not bother you, perhaps was the best way to say it.

Or his large hands. There was a safety in the way they rested on your back. Speaking of…

Your throat ran dry when he leaned into you, one of those hands sliding across your thigh, and asked against your ear, “Ready to go?”

He had to have seen you licking your lips to unstick your teeth. With a nod, he stood and offered a hand to you.

You both were already out of the elevator and walking to your room when he slowed, coming to stop just in front of you.

His room, fucking hell.

“You know, I was thinking,” he wasn’t looking as he spoke to you, which was odd given how often he stared at you. “If you’re going to be here with me from now on-“

You opened your mouth to argue but he put his hand up, “I’d like to know the things you enjoy doing with your romantic interests.” His smile was almost pure, you could tell he was genuinely asking.

“Well I don’t have any so, why would you care?”

“No things you enjoy?”

“No romantic interests.”

His head lolled to the side, “Sometimes I think you say things just to bother me.”

You did.

“I do.”

You thought if you kept being rude maybe you could keep him at an arm’s length. Not get too attached. You’d been kind to people you didn’t like before and eventually you started to like them. This was that. But opposite.

He stared down at you, taking a step closer. You took one back. That smile shifted from pure to sinister, his eyes half lidded. You could almost see the thoughts playing on his face.

“Alastor-,” your back hit the elevator doors. The pounding of your heart when he brought his face to yours drowned out the sounds of the button being pressed. When the doors opened you fell backward with a yelp, but a strong arm caught you by the waist.

“You have twelve floors.” His hand hit the first floor button, “You can share with me your idea of a quality date. Or I can show everyone,” that clawed hand came to your neck, sliding down the evidence of your pounding heart, “how pretty you scream.”

As soon as the doors closed you were pressed against the elevator wall, right leg pulled up and around his waist. “You wouldn’t dare.” You had meant it to sound strong but instead it was half whispered with a shaky voice.

He popped a button off your blouse, “Maybe!” Warm mouth now on your neck, his tongue ran over your pulse, “I wonder if everyone is still in the lobby.”

Over his shoulder you watched the numbers counting down. The hand that cut off the button slid down to your bottoms, slipping under the waistband.

On the 3rd floor the elevator stopped. When the doors opened a demon you didn’t recognize was standing there, eyes wide and mouth open. He didn’t make a move to enter, Alastor looking over his shoulder and sharing what you could only assume was a death glare. The flickering lights were a giveaway to his anger.

His fingers dipped down and cupped your sex, hot palm pressing into your folds.

The doors closed again and you watched the second floor light up. A finger bent and pressed into you.

A nibble at your ear, “You know I’ll win, regardless.”

He was right. Which was the smaller defeat? Humiliation or just telling the bastard your idea of a nice time?

“Books. Drinks.” You squeaked, the first floor lamp now aglow. His hand pulled away just as the doors opened.

Expecting him to gloat you were surprised he just hit the 10th floor button. The library.

He opened the door for you. The library’s main area had two reading chairs bookending a long antique sofa. You took the chair furthest from the door, hearing the door lock.

With a snap, the entire bar with Husk included seemed to fall three inches out of thin air.

“Oh for fucks sake.” Husk looked around, already annoyed, “You coulda just fucking asked for drinks to bring with you. You know cups are portable, right?”

It was nice, actually. Husk poured, you both read. There was an unnecessary fireplace crackling behind you. Cozy. And it got cozier and warmer the more you drank. Your shields softened as the glasses emptied.

Your book was good, but as you felt the alcohol hit you were reminded of the last time you’d gotten a little past tipsy. Sneakily, but not at all, your eyes wandered over to Alastor.

His legs were crossed, but you could remember looking down and seeing them spread open beneath you. Open. Did many people see him like you had? Had his talk about a disinterest in sex actually been a trick to intrigue you? It hadn’t worked, you genuinely didn’t care what his preferences were. If anything it made you less likely to make a pass.

Your eyes wandered down his slender neck to his wide shoulders. Less than a week ago your arms were resting there. Further down, you remembered that soft bit of fur at the base of his cock, a small trail from his belly button.

Husk watched your face turn pink, “You good?” Your head whipped around, looking confused. “You’re getting red.”

Oh. I was just thinking about my pussy drowning in Alastor’s cum.

No, obviously not!

Alastor’s eyes left his book and found yours. They were so red; his eyes, not your cheeks. No one in heaven had such wicked an appearance. When you didn’t reply, busy staring back at Alastor, Husk groaned, “Aah fuck.”

“What are you reading?” You asked, clearly able to see the book title from where you sat.

Alastor held it up, “Oliver Twist.”

“Never read it.”

You had read it.

Setting your book down, you tried to walk as straight as a line as you could to him. You took the book from his hands and sat down on his lap, back against his chest, before picking it up again. “What page are we on?”

“You can leave, Husker.” Alastor didn’t even look at Husk when he said it, eyes still on your face.

When the door closed and Alastor could lock it with a snap, he uncrossed his legs. “Would you like to start over dear? From the beginning.”

Maybe that wouldn’t be such a bad idea.

“Can we?” You leaned your head onto his shoulder. When had he become so comfortable…?

“We can.” The book was set aside, his left hand pulling your chin up, “I think we skipped a few chapters before.”

You opened your mouth, “I don’t like kissing.”

“You will.”

The front part of your brain dissolved, you were sure of it. Your decision making abilities were entirely eradicated as his lips pressed into yours. Fuck, maybe even your basic motor skills had been fried, his tongue swiping across your mouth before you just—opened. Your hips ground down into his lap, and you felt his smile widen against your lips.

“Stop smiling. I just like warm bodies.” You reached for the book and opened it to the first page, “and you’re so fucking warm.”

He began to read, but between the rumble of his chest, his voice in your ear, and the heat of his body, you fell asleep.

No matter. Alastor just hummed. With a summoning of his shadow you both sank into your shared bed, where he continued reading with you against his chest.

You dreamt about home. About red eyes and warmth.

Was it so bad, being in hell? Sure you had a fucking deer demon as guard dog but it seemed his mania was … not so terrible. Honestly he seemed relatively normal now. He would wander off for significant lengths of time, even leaving in the mornings while you were still lazing about. A kiss to your hand was the indicator he would be popping off somewhere.

Alastor still wouldn’t let Lucifer alone with you, but otherwise everything was okay. You’d even come to enjoy certain aspects of his possessiveness. That ever present hand, for example. Even when it wasn’t on you, you could still almost feel it. It had become second nature now.

The week was actually peaceful. Your pain was entirely gone, you could move about freely. Despite that Alastor still would press up behind you and offer to help dress you. An offer you declined, but every time he asked you paused longer and longer before saying no.

Alastor was happy to find you in the library toward the end of the week, you having wandered off when he was called away. He summoned a confused but pissed off Husk again, who was midway through making someone else’s drink. He set it aside, pouring Alastor his whiskey. You decided against drinking, you knew you always made poor decisions. Like sleeping.

Delighted by the impressive collection you found a non-fiction and settled into the same large chair.

“Reading is a virtue.” He said to himself yet out-loud, taking a seat and setting the radio on from across the room. Etta James. ‘Somethings got a hold of me.’

“A little past your time, isn’t it?” You smiled, you liked songs about love. Not because of who you were, you just liked the idea of someone so enamored they have to make art.

He laughed, “Nosey little bird, have you been asking about me?”

Well shit. You had forgotten to play dumb. The past couple weeks you had casually inquired about Alastor from the other staff members. A modest collection of facts to help you better understand the man. A quick recovery. “Know your enemy!”

He cackled, “Sun Tzu! What does Cupid need ‘The Art of War’ for?!”

What, did he expect you to only read romance novels and Roman mythos? “You can’t make a shadow without light. In fact,” you put the book down, “The Greeks thought Cupid was a child of War and Beauty.”

Okay well, Greek mythos is a little different than their Roman counterpart’s. So. There.

Alastor watched you leaning over the arm of the chair, no sign of pain as you did so. Your injury must have mended well. “Do you have parents?” He asked, genuinely wondering how your kind were created.

“No, we're just… made. And then sent off on assignments.”

“You must be terribly busy, just one person for all of earth.” If Alastor could pull some limbs and find out more from anyone but you, he would, but unfortunately no one but Vaggie would know anything about you and he had a feeling her time in heaven was never spent thinking about love.

“Oh, actually not so much! When I’m with humans I can travel around without worrying about the concept of time at all. But it takes a toll.” Or so you were told. There were never two Cupids at one time so you couldn’t really ask your predecessors. Alastor’s brows rose, unsure how exactly a Cupid could be taxed if they didn’t feel pain and couldn’t be hurt. “Every trip to Earth weakens us. Until our bodies just, I guess, give out.” A smile crept across your face, unsure what expression you were supposed to be making.

“Is it just Earth? Or,” he lowered the radio volume with just a glance, “Every time you leave heaven?” It would take a great effort to not notice the weight suddenly blanketing the library. Silence was heavy with what he was really asking you. Would remaining here kill you?

It was a great question. Wow he’s really good at this. It almost seemed like he gave a shit. No one had ever asked you about your creation, about your work. It was nice. Even from him. Maybe especially from him.

You had never been to hell, so you couldn’t be sure, but, “I think it’s a human-world time-thing. But I guess we’ll find out!” Another misplaced smile before you awkwardly leaned back and picked up the book.

While you hadn’t noticed the slip up you had made, Alastor had. “I suppose we will.”

You would find out, because you wouldn’t be returning to heaven. He was glad you, even if unconsciously, understood that. And perhaps you could live forever if you never returned to earth.

When the song ended, you offered one of your own.

Alastor was pleasantly surprised to hear you request Nat King Cole’s ‘It’s almost like being in love’.

Standing, he offered you his hand for a dance. “Ugh I hate this cheesy shit.” You said it but stood anyway, putting your hands in his.

Alastor laughed, swaying side to side, “Not a fan of romance? Has Cupid never been in love?”

Those were two seperate things. How could you explain? “Drug dealers number one rule. Never get high off your own supply. That would be—.”

Lonely. Pathetic.

“A bad idea.” His cheek rested on your head. It was a shockingly tender act. “Can you understand? Why would I want something I made. What’s special about that?”

“And what of true love? It isn’t made by you, yes?” Asked into your hair.

“Yeah but when will I ever find the time to make a connection worthwhile. Winners and Angels are gluttons for choice, I am obviously built for a fun time not a long time.” Which you were…fine with. Yeah. I mean, what choice did you have? “And I don’t want to force it…so…” you trailed off. The rest didn’t matter.

He nodded, suppressing another laugh. “I see. Well, allow me to give you something you inspired, how about that? Not made. Would you say no, my muse?”

Inspired? Like a song? “Ha, what have I inspired in you, heathen.”

Alastor stopped dancing, his hand pulling your face up for a kiss which took you by surprise.

“Seriousl-,” Husk mercifully disappeared in a flash of neon green.

You couldn’t remember exactly how it happened, much like many of the moments you surrendered to Alastor. It was so fast and he was so strong, his hands large and confident in how they moved you. Before you knew it you were bent over the sofa’s arm getting fucked so hard your leg was shaking and your stomach nauseous.

This was much better than songs or art or whatever you inspired in others. You were gasping with every breath, the action somehow heightening the sensations. The little huffs and groans your body was pulling from him had your heart racing.

His cock was smashing your womb into your guts, the entire organ suddenly feeling like a new pleasure spot. Every jolt to your cervix made a novel kind of bliss pool in your stomach.

You cried, head empty as he completely left your heat before bottoming out again, “Stop, Alastor. Stop.” A strained moan, hands gripping the wooden sofa arm, “stop, stop, fuuuuck.”

He was pulling out too far and too fast, hitting back too hard and too deep. Your cunt felt swollen around him, your entrance so soft and wet he didn’t need precision to sink back in.

“Does it hurt?” He said quickly on the down beat of his thrust.

“Nngh no.”

“Theeen, no.”

Alastor pulled you up by your chin, back bending as he titled your mouth to his. Despite your mouth hanging open with your tongue out as salacious as you’d ever been, you told him, “I really don’t kiss during sex.”

The look in his downcast eyes sent a shiver along your spine, a power there you couldn’t push against, “You do now, my dear.”

When in hell, you supposed. You didn’t even try to argue, accepting his tongue wrapping around yours and exploring your mouth while his dick churned up your insides. Full from top to bottom. Full of Alastor. Safe. Wanted. Needed.

You pulled away when there was an overwhelming bone-deep sensation spilling through your hips and down your thighs. The muscles felt weak there, and you had an urge to runaway from it but Alastor held you still.

A scream of ecstasy as both legs shook violently, you finally got your hands free orgasm but to your shock it didn’t stop. As it appeared to wane, it just started mounting again. By the third roll, Alastor came with a push so deep your chest fell over the arm of the sofa. If not for the hands bruising your hips, you would have fallen off entirely.

The ache in your stomach began immediately, you’d have thought someone had been punching you in the gut. Well, more literally than they had been. When you groaned and complained to Alastor about what he had done, he pulled you up by your waist.

You were drawn into him, back to his chest again with your body between those long legs. His hands came to your stomach. Alastor massaged deep circles into your abdomen.

“Does that help?” His high voice lowered, husky and kind into your ear. You nodded, the pressure relieved the discomfort.

You wondered if he was used to taller demons than your shorter heavenly form, or perhaps he wasn’t used to anyone at all. Maybe sinners had more room than you did.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you. Believe it or not,” probably not, “I’m never trying to hurt you.”

Was it terrible you actually did believe him? Yes he was a serial killer, and considered one of the most cruel overlords in recent memory. But he was always gentle when his hands were on you. Flits of memories of him washing your feet came back to you.

“I know perhaps,” his hands kept moving, your back already stuck to his with well earned sweat, “I have at times been easily incensed.”

You nodded quickly.

“But, It’s just,” you heard him swallow hard, “ah I absolutely hate this,” He whispered it to himself. “I’m just scared you’ll leave before I’ve managed to convince you how much happier I can make you here.”

It’s not that it was funny, necessarily, but the very idea hell could be happier than Heaven was laughable. It was Heaven. It was made to be happy. It existed purely to please.

The smile faded from your face. Well, for the winners. It was made to please the winners. It wasn’t made for you, but you still got much enjoyment. You had…sex. Great sex. Not held aloft in a radio tower great, but…You always came. Everyone did. Wasn’t that the point of it?

Wasn’t that the point?

What was the point?

A warm and lonely bed is better than an empty one alone. So.

Well, your bed was always warm and never lonely in hell now that you’d been “moved”.

You had… Hobbies. You liked swimming.

Okay well the hotel had a pool. And yes, if you weren’t running off to earth on command you’d have more energy for hobbies.

What were you thinking about this for again?

You gathered the scraps of your relevant thoughts, “Happiness isn’t being confined to a hotel, Alastor.”

“As soon as you show me you won’t leave me, I won’t care where you go. As long as you’re safe.” One of his hands left your stomach to stroke your cheek, “I’m just waiting for you to realize what I already know.”

If Alastor were to ease his grip on you, could you enjoy yourself? Well, more than you did. But it was more than that, you had to admit you hated the idea of losing, of just running away. “I don’t like giving up.”

His laugh was quiet but it rocked you as his chest moved. “Darling they threw you to hell and told you you’re not allowed to leave unless you do homework. Giving up what? Being a servant to heaven?”

If he had said it a couple weeks prior, you would have left the room indignant. But now, settled against his hot skin and being so softly touched, it sounded like tough love.

“I don’t belong here though.” You were talking to yourself. So many excuses.

His arms wrapped around your chest to hug you into him, “You belong wherever I am.” His cheek pressed against yours, “I won’t let you go.”

A threat. A threat you leaned into and warmed yourself with. A threat a quiet part of you hoped he kept his word on.

You were getting too comfortable. Every morning you woke up to Alastor curled into your body, holding you tightly to him and you found yourself smiling before your consciousness clicked on. At some point in the last week he grabbed your chin and kissed you good night and suddenly every time he left your side you allowed a kiss to your cheek before he parted. What was worse was how you’d talk in bed about your recent reads and what happened the few hours you weren’t with each other.

The thing that made you realize you were getting honestly too deep was when you went to go to bed early and actually took the elevator past your floor, walked all the way to his station and told him good night. You’d made it to his chair and were leaning down for your kiss when your face fell flat.

He asked what was wrong but you shook your head. A poorly faked smile offered to him.

You sat in your bed. His bed. Your bed?

You sat in bed and wondered how to press forward. Two months, nearly, you’d been in hell. At this rate surely heaven had made a replacement. If you could make it back quickly you could still keep your place.

A decision was made, you’d never confronted Alastor head on. You had misunderstood his illusion of you. But maybe if you just forced it into his thick skull he’d been controlled and puppeted by an arrow, not his free will, he would abandon it to save his pride.

Knees to your chest, why were you crying again? Did you want to go home?

No, you wanted to curl into his stupid fucking lap and listen to him hum his stupid old, forgotten songs. You wanted to dance while Husk groaned and rolled his eyes. You wanted to feel loved.

But you weren’t made to want things. And Alastor didn’t love you.

Okay, one more night to enjoy yourself before you pissed him off so much he kicked you out of his bed. Or took such a turn into obsession he never let you leave the room again, allowing you to shirk responsibility for not returning to heaven.

When you turned the handle there was resistance, the door pushing in.

“Alastor? Done already?” He’d seemed busy earlier.

He closed the door and locked it. Oh. A blush. The sound of a locking door had come to mean certain things to you.

“You seemed bothered.” His thumb wiped where your tears had already dried, “What ever is the problem? Did someone upset you? Some neck I should wring?” You shook your head no. His other hand came to join in holding your face, those goddamned red eyes melting you to nothing, “Some limbs I should snap?” He took a step toward you and you took two back, hands holding his wrists. Another no. “Or some cheeks I should kiss?”

Stop crying.

An eager nod. “Don’t cry, my love.” Soft lips catching your tears, thin fingers wiping them away. He kept walking forward and you kept walking back until your legs hit the bed.

One more night, just in case. In case he forfeits the mania.

You kissed his neck, startling him. “Rare form. Did you need some more intimate attention, darling?” You tried to avoid initiating, never knowing what he wanted or when, never wanting to enjoy his touch too much. “I could indulge you.”

What you wanted was to be reduced so thoroughly to just a physical creature by way of pleasure that your mind disconnected from your brain. Fucked dumb, as people said. Alastor wouldn’t know what that meant but you were confident he’d enjoy sussing out the finer details of the meaning if it meant your full surrender.

You bit down on his neck, getting you pushed onto the bed in return. “I need overindulgence. I don’t wanna feel anything tonight but you.” You should practice your manners, for heaven's sake. “Please.”

There it was again. That look that turned your bones to jelly and your brain to cotton; that downcast half lidded stare as he towered over you that promised to devour you whole. His hand pulled at his bow tie and loosened his collar, knees on the bed as his legs spread you open at the thighs.

“Good girl.”

No punishment or inspiration, just that mental numbness that turned off all your worries. We’re you making stupid faces? We’re your sounds embarrassing? Didn’t matter. You didn’t care. You clung to his body like you’d fall apart without his skin on yours. Because you would, in some fashion.

Every gap between your bodies felt like room for doubt. So you filled them with flesh and sighs and moans.

With his height difference you were smothered by him when in traditional heaven-approved missionary, but you liked lying on top. Your head only made it to his chest when your hips were positioned above his cock. You could go slack and let him move you on and off himself. You had been lying when you said you preferred to not move or make noise, but you’d learned he got harder and more feral when you let him manipulate your body any way he pleased.

He smelled like sweat and leather, probably from the chairs in the lobby. No one sweats in heaven, this seemed like a mistake now. You’d have to be sure to not wash your clothes after you left hell, or else you’d forget his scent.

After finishing, he was surprised to find you still clinging to his torso, arms under his armpits and hooked onto his shoulders. He offered to pull out and let you lie down but you just held on tighter in response. He glanced around the room, soft light and softer music on the radio. Your quiver and bow rested against the armoire, practically dusty. He asked if you were alright, a hand coming to your back with large claws gently scratching.

“Yeah I will be.” you lifted your head, waiting.

Both of his eyebrows rose, unsure what you were waiting on.

Complete surrender. “Good night kiss.” You had to stretch to meet his lips before settling back into his chest, “okay bore me to sleep with your day, sinner.” He gladly did, you falling asleep yet again to the sound of his slow heartbeat and the rumble of his words.

You awoke nauseous, already knowing your day was going to fucking suck and it’d be your own fault. The idea of approaching Alastor and initiating the conversation felt impossible, your feet became stone when you thought of it.

The coward’s option. Wait for time alone and then pace the library until he came to find you.

After an hour or so he did, smile brightening as he entered. “Should I summon the bar?”

You shook your head no, struggling to speak. He sat in his chair, book still on the small side table.

Heart pounding, you considered doing this another day or week or maybe year but knew you’d already lost so much time. “Alastor, I need to talk to you about my task.”

He snapped the book shut, eyes not leaving his hands. “Oh?”

“I need to leave the hotel or at least need serious time alone with someone. I need to change someone’s heart on true love. I can’t go home—,” you were cut off, Alastor standing quickly.

“Home?”

“Alastor.” You stood your ground even as his spine stretched and antlers widened.

“Your home is wherever I am.” A pained smile now, something akin to hurt in his eyes that did damage to you too. “Ah. So last night— and people say I’m cruel.”

“I’m not supposed to be here!”

A snap, his anger and desperation eclipsing his pain, “Why don’t you ever listen-,”

Your turn to cut him off, “Because you’re under a spell! You act so fucking tough like you’re in control all the time. But you’re not! It’s just the effect of the arrow.”

He laughed, but you kept going, “Don’t act like you’re sooo strong you can fight the effects of my shot. You don’t fucking love me. Not really, not naturally. It was an accident. You’re just— it’s been made by me. I don’t want it. I want something real and true.”

“My feelings are true, just let me speak. I can make you understand if you’d just listen to me.” Pupils like pins, teeth somehow sharper.

“Alastor you can’t have true love. Nothing triggered by my arrows can ever be true.”

Another ring of laughter, “Tell me then how your true love is different than mine, Oh Wise Cupid.”

You huffed, “Don’t talk down to me, radio demon. True love means caring deeply for someone else that occupies your heart and mind-,” he opened his mouth, looking around the room for where you found the audacity but you snapped twice to get his attention back, “not just that! You put them first without fear because if they truly love you they would never take advantage of that. It’s trusting them with the most fragile parts of yourself. It's a best friend. Someone who makes you feel like a better version of you, makes you want to always be improving yourself.”

Alastor was still smug, staring at you from his unnervingly demonic height, “Lovely! Last question, expert, is true love ever one sided?”

You thought for a beat, “It can be.”

He hummed, body swiftly resuming his smaller but, again, still too tall scale, antlers remaining fierce as his sinister smile dropped to just a small upward turn of his lips. “I see. You’ve truly enlightened me. I believe you.” The sarcasm wasn’t lost on you.

You rolled your eyes and licked your lips to go off when a portal opened beside you.

Heaven was just beyond the shining circle.

You looked from Alastor to the circular doorway, taking small steps towards it. Your hand pressed through, confusion wiping your own smugness off your face.

Alastor began a mocking slow clap. “I’ve been convinced. Happy now? Task complete.”

“But- the love Mania causes…It clouds the mind, you can’t even process the idea of true love properly.” You searched the floor for some clarity.

His hands stopped, eyebrows meeting his bangs as a laugh that started typically but quickly morphed into maniacal filled the room. You just kept pushing your hand in and out of the portal. Alastor finally quieted, antlers fully drawn back into little prongs. He stared at you. A shiver as his smile reached his ears. That look again. You took a deep breath, ready to be eaten.

“Your little arrow didn’t pierce me, you glorious fool. It literally fell into my pocket. I was never under the effects of your magic. I said that many times.” He straightened out his suit jacket, “Very plainly, might I add. You just never listened to me. So sure you knew better than I did.”

You sputtered, too many thoughts trying to express themselves, “Why did you act like that then?!”

“Because I wanted you. Something something first sight, as I recall the adage goes.” He crossed his arms and looked at his claws, “Perhaps my love happens to be manic by default. I am a murderous overlord, darling.”

All the energy left your body, shoulders relaxing. “Oh.”

“So, here I am,” he opened his arms, “trusting you to not hurt me any further today. Does that fall into your narrow view of true love?”

A good question. You shifted your weight onto your other foot, looking back at heaven. You could see the shining gates.

He sighed and brought his arms down, “I can’t promise how long I’ll let you stand there and look at anything other than me.”

A warning.

A deep breath, another shift onto your other foot again as you shook the anxiety out of your hands before finally making eye contact with him, “Well, eldritch horror, prove it.”

You heard the door lock from across the room.

You decided heaven could wait. It took about two days before they seemed to notice you hadn’t entered the portal, which closed on its own some time between Alastor pushing you onto the floor and you begging him for more. Luckily St. Peter wasn’t privy to your escapades.

It was a fact Sera was aware you had completed your task, because a knock came to the library door on that second day after you did so. Entering without waiting for a reply, which was brave, Lucifer and his hat popped into the room.

“Heeeey giiiirl. I got a message from heaven asking what’s the hold up, worried you were incapacitated.”

From your seat in Alastor’s lap you lowered your book, “How nice of them to suddenly care about my well-being.” You brought the book back up, “Little late.”

He nodded, “Uh huh, uh huh. Yeah I can understand that. Sooo,” his fingers tapped the door, “What should I reply with?”

Alastor turned the page and hummed a reply, “Finders Keepers.”

ᡣ𐭩ˋ°•*⁀➷ masterlist

∰ Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult (general tag list):

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🏹Alastor stalkers: @celestial-vomit , @amurtan

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@asianfrustration13 @alittletiredcry @sirens-and-moonflowers @alastorssimp

@sugurubabe , @zzzykiek , @phamtasic

#alastor smut #alastor #alastor x you #hazbin hotel #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin hotel smut #hazbin alastor #alastor x reader smut

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xiao-come-home · 2 years

Text

How Genshin men wake up with you;

and spend their morning with you.

┏━━━✦❘༻༺❘✦━━━┓

✰ Characters: Kaeya, Diluc, Zhongli, Xiao, Itto, Ayato, Kazuha, Dainsleif, Alhaitham.

✰ Words: ~3,5k.

✰ SFW ; gn!reader, no mentions of pronouns. fluff.

Warnings: a lot of physical touch and kisses, reader is implied to have hair, ayato is a bit sus, kazu deserves the world, alhaitham makes kavehs life a bit difficult by choice. msg me to add more.

A/N: this is a sequel to How Genshin men sleep with you post, with two new characters added cuz it was fun to write :') a lot of alhaitham's morning routine is assumed because usually, id try to base it off canon, so yeah ;3;

┗━━━✦❘༻༺❘✦━━━┛

Kamisato Ayato:

as the Yashiro commissioner, he has to wake up pretty early. but... there's only one problem - Ayato hates it with passion. poor Thoma used to shake him awake every 15 minutes, at least three times. ayato would just swat his hands away, press his face into the pillow and sigh loudly, promising Thoma to get up in a few minutes. (he didn't)

now that you're living with your boyfriend, you share the same bed. which means a few things - he clings to you the entire night, your limbs are tangled together in the morning, and now you're the one in charge of getting him out of bed (Thoma almost cried in happiness). he annoyingly turns off the screaming alarm and snuggles back into you.

he has a habit of, quite literally - squishing his cheek against yours as he lies next to you. he also likes to nuzzle into your neck and grip you like a monkey that found the last banana in its vicinity. he hums at you and lies down with his eyes closed if you ask him questions or say anything. you can tell by the tone he hums with whether he agrees on something or not, but generally, that keeps him enough busy not to fall asleep again.

i can't stress this enough, he's ALL over you. if he's in his "cheek-against-cheek" mode, he literally cradles your other one with his palm. if his face is in your neck and you lie on your back, his fingers are intertwined with yours. the more awake he is, the more kisses are being placed by his lips.

he definitely requests breakfast in bed. at this point he's cuddled enough, so now he wants to feed you. literally. he picks up the food skillfully with his favorite chopsticks and carefully brings it to your mouth, "open up my love," he speaks in his usual, soft-spoken tone, but it's clear his morning voice is still there. "that's it, you're so good for me. is it good? would you like some more?" hmm..

just so you know: he wants you to feed him too and will pout and threaten (playfully) to go back to sleep if you don't. since he likes to sleep more, there aren't many activities you share in the morning; as a result, he cherishes the morning snuggle and sharing your first meal together a lot. Ayato is always curious to hear about your upcoming plans for the day - but he won't say no to lighthearted conversations either. he just really wants to hear your voice.

Arataki Itto:

listen. he either sleeps until 6am or 1pm. there's no in-between, sometimes he stays up all night or falls asleep on your lap on the couch as soon as he comes back home. no, he won't move.

it's hard to say whether he's a morning person - but probably not; he whines a lot into your hair when he has to wake up early and hasn't rested enough, babbling how dark it is outside and that you're too warm to let go of.

speaking of, he holds onto you in the mornings like his life depends on it - you have to work? no, no, no - just stay for a while longer, while he smushes your face right into his... um, prominent chest. you feel the warmth of his bare skin, his chin on top of your head, his large hands drawing invisible patterns of stars, clouds, or hearts under your pajama t-shirt; he sneaks a few kisses on your hair, humming in contentment when he feels you hug him back with your arm over his own hip.

he's totally willing to make you a nice meal before work though, and wake up earlier in the process. most of the time it ends up in absolute disaster and him taking twice as much time to clean it up. but... if you decide to make breakfast together, itto can actually cook up a nice meal (with "a little of your help"). while the preparations are done and the meal is almost ready to be served, the oni hugs you from behind and sways a little from side to side, nuzzling into your neck drowsily and trying not to drool on you.

generally, he's very touchy after waking up (as you can probably guess by now), so he wants to accompany you everywhere before you have to leave. he'll cuddle you before leaving the sheets, link your pinkies when you wait for the water to boil, go showering together, have his hand on your thigh if you do your makeup, attempt to help you with your makeup which might end up in very interesting results, and trying to mischievously steal some kisses just as you're about to leave.

Itto's hands cup your cheeks gently and he flashes you a boyish smirk; he leans in and connects your lips, purring as some of his unruly hair falls onto your shoulders. he always claims he "just wants to give his little sunshine a good luck kiss for the day," but in reality, he just wants to feel you real good before you depart for today. also, he really likes flavored lip glosses, and you keep buying them, so it's not his fault for giving in to your "devilish temptations"

Kaeya:

the bed is an absolute mess. the pillows are everywhere, his part of the duvet is barely covering him from the stomach down, and probably, he has one of his arms on your face.

it takes a while for him to fully wake up; once he opens his eyes just barely enough to see, he scans the room to make sure you're near him - and then he either gets up or decides to snuggle up to you, kiss your temple and go back to sleep for a bit more.

if it's a work day, he uses all his willpower (read: 30 alarms) to wake up earlier and just admire you. he likes to big spoon you and have his arm over your hip, gently grazing your hand with the pads of his fingers; Kaeya just can't get enough of the smell of your shampoo, of your warmth, of your presence.

before properly getting out of bed, he hovers above your sleeping form - it gives him butterflies to see you so peaceful; therefore, he always bends down and places a few butterfly kisses on your cheek with his pretty lashes. he chuckles lightly when he sees you stir in your sleep because of the interaction, so he gives your cheek a proper kiss and (unwillingly) leaves the warm bed.

just so you know - he WILL attempt to get in your pants if he has a day off. Kaeya's hands start to wander automatically as he kisses you awake (or at least attempts to), and if he feels like a little shiet enough - he might place his cold feet on your legs to help you wake up and have some fun! :)

you might need reinforcements if he doesn't wanna get up in winter when it's cold. Kaeya clings to the duvet like he's about to meet the grim reaper himself.

Diluc:

he has a routine that he strictly follows - but at the same time, he's an expert at being quiet and letting you sleep. he takes his time getting dressed up though - he can't help but cheat a bit and watch you snore.

even if it's his day off, he still wakes up earlier than you. but there's a catch - he then leaves your shared bed for a moment to greet his maids and order them to make you a mix of your and his favorites for breakfast. he doesn't want to wake you up, but he really wants to talk with you again - so he might do that with that precious scent of freshly prepared food..

an absolute sucker for playing with your hair in the morning. he runs his fingers through your hair in the gentlest way possible, shifting closer to you and pressing a sweet, warm kiss on your forehead that he lets to linger for a bit longer.

likewise, when you play with his hair to wake HIM up - he might just feel his heart explode and shed a few happy tears. he's never believed there will be a day he meets an angel like you, even more so that graces him with such affection, sincere affection that makes your eyes sparkle.

Diluc leaves you his t-shirt he sleeps in just before going to Angel's Share - it smells like his body wash with a little bit of his natural scent. He usually takes it off in the middle of the night anyway, finding himself to feel a bit too hot for his liking.

Either way, you love cuddling with it. He's not there physically, but it's a reminder that he made it safely and spent the remaining hours of the night next to you.

Zhongli:

he also has his own routine! he wakes up as soon as the sun begins to rise, quietly walking to the kitchen and carefully making a cup of tea for himself. he drinks his tea slowly, shuddering at the taste; his taste buds overflown with the right combination of spices. he finishes his drink just in the right time - it's time to wake you up now.

Zhongli sits on the bed and brushes some of your hair behind your ear; he kisses your forehead and begins to mumble good morning to you. He smiles at you and caresses your cheek with his thumb when he sees you trying to convince him to get just 5 more minutes.

while you finally get up and groggily change your clothes, he goes to prepare your favorite drink, be it tea, coffee, or anything else. he likes to put some mild spices in it to make your usual drink feel a bit more special and surprising. if you can't handle spices, that's fine! instead, he can give you a small snack :)

he really, really wants to brush your hair and vice versa. it's probably one of his favorite morning activities. he's trying his best not to pull your hair and if he does, he places an apologetic kiss on the crown of your hair. he'd be even happier if you let him style your hair, going to the garden or a flower shop nearby and decorating it with small flowers.

but... if you persuade him to get back to bed, he'll oblige. though, in return, you can't fall back asleep - he keeps you awake by asking you if you had any dreams or nightmares, to tell him about them, or what you'd like to eat.

he asks you to do his makeup! Zhongli's perfectly able to do it himself, but he loves seeing how focused you are on the given task, the corners of his lips going up when he hears you curse under your breath, trying to suppress his laugh.

Xiao:

a morning bird (ha!) just like Zhongli, but he has no routine... unless killing demons counts as one. considering this, he usually isn't around when you wake up :( (not that he sleeps anyway.. 90% of the time.)

however, all it takes to make him appear is to call his name - Xiao never misses it and always prioritizes you first. he might roll his eyes if you call him "just" to lie in bed with you. but it's fine - he "berates" you (not really) while almost spooning you.

there are some rare mornings shared together with Xiao, though; he says he has to watch you to keep you safe and hopes that you won't question the excuse any further, but you know it's something else. After all, his hands covering the rosy cheeks seem to give everything away.

in reality, Xiao's cold heart gets well-deserved warmth whenever he sees you sleep. of course he still wants to protect you, but realizing how much trust you have in him to fall asleep without second thoughts is more than anything he could ever want. he smiles, eyebrows knitting together ever so slightly when he pecks your face all over; his kisses are quick and chaste. even though you can't really feel this now, you know his lips leave a tingling sensation.

he lets you sleep a bit longer on his bare hand and doesn't care if it falls asleep. he's so mesmerized by your faith in him that he just does not care. even as simple as it sounds.

when the tiredness gets the best of him, the next morning you find him breathing steadily next to you. you don't wake him up though, probably because as soon as you'd do that, he's gone off to fight the evil. give him a blanket and prepare a plate of almond tofu - the disbelief on his face quickly turns into adoration, accepting the meal and savoring every bite. after he's done, he kisses your knuckles and whispers "I love you" against your skin.

Kaedehara Kazuha:

yet another person who wakes up extremely early. he opens his eyes slowly, blinking a few times to get used to the light; his crimson orbs scan the environment, and his face lights up when there's no danger around. he stretches his arms to shake off the remains of sleepiness and presses a good morning kiss on your shoulder.

he later decides to hunt or fish for fresh meat - depends on what you like more, but he'd be overjoyed if you let him do his signature dish! he doesn't go far, just enough to still keep an eye on you. don't worry - he's also prepared if you don't eat meat at all! he's more than happy to learn recipes to accommodate and just to simply make you smile more.

he starts a small fire nearby your sleeping form, the distance is enough to make you feel warm, but not enough to possibly hurt you. the crackling of fire wakes you up, along with the delicious smell of Kazuha's cooking. when he notices you slowly awakening, his mouth curves into a smile; he shifts next to you and kisses your nose.

he's trying to fight the grin creeping on his face every time you enjoy his food. really, that's why he does that every time you're traveling together. also, by this point - he still has a massive bed hair. please brush his hair in return. and braid it too - he'll touch the finished piece with a blush on his face and shyly thank you for being so kind to him.

also! he trusts you a lot and lets you change his bandage every morning. particular spots hurt more than the others and Kazu tries not to show his pain; but seeing how much care you're putting into it, disinfecting it, and kissing the pain away when he winces - the love stored in his heart makes the relief appear faster.

he ALWAYS makes sure you're all warm and comfy, especially in winter. Kazu covers you entirely with a thick blanket from his bag, the sole item in it during your shared travels. he's also willing to stay cuddled up together for a bit longer when he notices the snowfall outside. his warm breath fans over your neck as his arm over your waist tightens and brings you closer to him.

Dainsleif:

again, another morning person - but slightly less by choice. as soon as Dainsleif shoots open his eyes, he tries to calm down his racing heart; he lets out a sigh of relief when his indigo eyes notice you sound asleep.

he smiles shyly at your intertwined hands. he brings them closer to his face, pressing a sweet kiss on each of your knuckles, careful not to wake you up and give you a bit more time to rest.

even though you've expressed multiple times that you hate it - Dain can't stop guarding you right after awakening himself. He won't get back to sleep no matter what, keeping an eye out on the possible danger. He's aware that you don't like it - but he can't let anything happen to you, not even a scratch if he's nearby. You're everything he has left. He's lost everything else and despite being aware of the strength that gods possess, he's willing to cross blades with them if it meant extending your life more in return.

he always shifts your resting body on his - sometimes just your head on his lap so you can sleep a bit more comfortably, or entirely, so he keeps you secure between his legs, using his chest as a pillow and having his arms wrapped around you tightly.

"Good morning, my star. How was your sleep? Did you have any pleasant dreams?" is his daily mantra he says when he sees you arise. Next, Dain caresses your lips with his own in a tender kiss. if you decide that you feel cheesy that morning, answer something along these lines: "it seems like I haven't awoken from my pleasant dream yet." his cheeks will flush cherry red, hand flying to cover the blush immediately; even if you can't see it, you know it worked. it always does.

Dainsleif might not be kazuha-tier when it comes to cooking, so he prefers to take you to various taverns for your first meal if it's possible (yes, he's in mom-mode when it comes to breakfast and won't stop until you eat, because "breakfast must not be skipped. it's the most important meal!"). however, when that option isn't available, he prepares you a meal himself. some recipes are long forgotten, they taste like nothing else you've eaten before - they taste bizarre at first, but later on dain finally hits the jackpot and discovers your favorite. while your stomach gets filled with khaenri'ahn delicacies, his chest almost suffocates with the warmth and he watches you with twinkling eyes and the most tender smile.

Alhaitham:

this man. he ZOOMS out of bed as soon as the alarm rings. immediately puts on half of his clothes. when he's about to leave the room... he comes back near the bed, gives you a quick kiss on the forehead, and then moves to the kitchen to make himself a cup of coffee and your favorite drink.

he really wants to avoid Kaveh. he will NOT deal with him in the morning, nuh uh. unless he can make his day a bit worse than Kaveh anticipates...

either way, he lets you sleep 20 more minutes. the exact moment the clock on his wall hits 7:20am, he returns to your shared room and gently shakes you to wake you up. if you don't comply, he just takes you bridal style to the kitchen and sits you on his lap, regardless of whether you still sleep.

he loves pressing you tightly to his chest, inhaling the fresh scent of your laundry detergent and your own, natural one; he hides his face in your neck, closing his eyes. his lips connect with your neck and leave a trail of kisses, while his defined arm tightens around your waist. perhaps that will wake you up?

hearing Kaveh entering the kitchen and greeting you (and mumbling something to him too, but clearly not genuine) he looks at him with a slight annoyance. Kaveh merely lets out a "hmph" sound, clearly unaware of what Alhaitham is about to do. the scribe locks eyes with him shortly before going back to kissing your neck, but this time marking you; the obscene noises cause you to immediately awaken if you haven't, and Kaveh storming out of the room with a blush, muttering curses under his breath. Alhaitham only chuckles as you turn your head to face him, "good morning, love. you've finally woken up. we have to leave soon, so hurry up and drink it before it gets cold like last time."

on his day off, his day starts similarly - he wakes up a bit later though, but still needs his morning coffee. with the steaming drink on his nightstand, he joins you back below the cozy sheets, sitting down with his back against the headboard. he glances at you one last time and kisses your lips ever so slightly, the touch so tender that you barely register it; then, his eyes are glued to the book in hand he's been reading for a few days. if you wish, he'll gladly have you between his legs and let you snore on his chest - you don't even have to say a thing - he automatically rises his arm and waits for you to move without moving his eyes from the book. once you've settled comfortably, he pulls up the duvet and puts his chin on your head (and occasionally rubs your back gently, but denies it. even if you catch him. every time).

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