#helluvacommunity

[aneldritchfootnote]

VI The Lovers

As requested by mscaseyj on Bluesky

In honour of International Women's Day 2025 and @hellsgreatestevents's initiative to raise money for the Lilith Fund!

[macabr3-barbi3]

Innocence (Alastor/Reader NSFW)

(Hell's Greatest International Women's Day Fic #2)

We're on to fic #2! I'll personally be donating $3 for every 15 notes that the fics with this banner are receiving 💗find fic #1 (RadioStatic breeding kink fic) here!

Get more information about the event by following us on Tumblr @hellsgreatestevents and Bluesky!

Tags: coming in pants; dry humping; non-sex repulsed Alastor; inexperienced Alastor

It had started innocently enough.

It was the first time that Alastor had allowed you into his bedroom- previously he had been too aware of the ‘impropriety’ of allowing a lady friend into his personal space, until you reminded him that this was Hell and nobody gave a shit about impropriety. Still, you had behaved yourself for the most part, sticking to your own chair while you read with him by the fire, one hand clasped with his on the table between you. You got up to go get something and on your way back to your seat you dropped your face down to meet Alastor’s and gave him what was meant to be a chaste kiss on the lips.

He had pulled you fully into his lap, straddling him with your arms against the back of the chair and hovering over him. He nosed at the length of your throat before devouring your mouth in a kiss that was decidedly not chaste, tongue snaking against yours in a way that had you groaning low, the sound reverberating in your chest. 

You hadn’t even really ground your hips against him, merely settled your weight fully in his lap instead of crouching above him and he had whined into your mouth, a choked off sound echoing in the space of his room as he had come in his trousers, the hot spurt of it soaking through the fabric until you could feel it where you pressed against him. 

Alastor hadn’t shoved you off him, but it was a near thing- his hands braced on your shoulders and pulled you back from his mouth, his expression a mix between mortification and anger, though it wasn’t directed at you. He had apologized, depositing you back into your own chair before dipping into the shadows and returning a few minutes later with different pants on and an apology dripping from his lips. He had missed, apparently, the look of blatant arousal and need on your face when you realized what had happened, the knowledge that he had come to orgasm so easily making you blush and clench your thighs together as he transported you to your own room with a hurried farewell. 

You were stripped in the bed as soon as he vanished, your own orgasm only disappointing when you realized that you hadn’t gotten to see the look on his face when it happened.

It became your personal mission, then, to try to make it happen again… and again… and again. He didn’t seem to realize that you were doing it on purpose, cornering him in abandoned hallways and closets and his sheets to kiss, pressing against him in ways that could almost be considered proper if not for the subtle roll of your hips when he pulled you closer. He always hid his face from you when he came, turned away in shame like he thought you would be disappointed. To his credit, he lasts longer every time- you think if the pair of you ever opt for penetrative sex he won’t disappoint either way- but you think it’s more the mental aspect of it than anything else. That he can’t stop himself, can’t or won’t or refuses to pull away from you even knowing how it will likely end when the two of you are so close together and locked at the lips.

Now, shoved into a tiny alcove off the kitchen, his body trembles where his lower half rests against you, the strain of his erection heavy through his pants, hot even with the layers of clothing between you as he presses you into the wall. “If I didn’t know better,” he mumbles as you press your lips to his neck, his collarbone, his chest through the gap in his shirt, anywhere you can reach, “I would think you enjoy my- ahem, my tendency to finish rather quickly when we wind up in this position.”

“Oh, you’ve finally caught on to that, have you?” You know he can feel the sharp-toothed grin pressed into his skin, nipping lightly with your teeth before pulling back and giving him a fond smile. You bring a hand up that’s been clenched in the fabric of his shirt to cup his jaw, in awe, as always, of the slack-jawed wonder in his panting mouth, the burning arousal evident in the droop of his eyelids as he stares down at you. “I find it endearing- and hot as fuck.”

“Language,” he reprimands softly, but his eyelids flutter and he moans low and staticky when you grind harder into him, one leg wrapped around the back of his own to pull him closer. 

“You love it,” you snap back, and squeak in surprise when he lifts you by the thighs and wraps your legs fully around his hips. You can tell he’s close from the frantic bucking of his hips into you, his harsh panting into the scant space between your faces, and you slide your fingers into his hair to tug him down for a breathtaking kiss. You whisper your plea against his lips- “Let me see you? Please?”

“As though- as though I could deny you anything, darling,” he manages to get out before his words fail him, feedback screeching in the dim lit space as he spills against you. His eyes clench shut, mouth falling open in ecstasy as he tips over the edge, claws digging into the skin of your hips as he rides it out. And this was what you had been working for the whole time- the complete abandonment of any shame as he found his release with your body, his face open and honest while he gasped and trembled through it.

He kept you held aloft as the shaking of his body subsided, running his hands comfortingly over the tiny marks he had left on your skin. “You’re quite the deviant, scheming like this for so long,” he whispers, leaning down to give you a kiss. “I hope you realize I will not be so inexperienced forever- I hope you’re prepared for more extensive sessions.”

“I’m counting on it,” you laugh, losing the sound into his mouth as he dips his hand between your thighs to help you find your own end.

[hazelfoureyes]

Fun fact, I had an abortion after an ex removed the condom without my permission while I was in college. I take this issue really personally. I had to travel to another state and use my school money to afford it.

In the waiting room was a 13 year old girl who said her grandparents had tried everything to make her miscarry but that didn’t work and now they were almost too late to terminate. They had traveled four states away from Texas and took money from their neighbors to afford the hotel and gas money.

I’m starting prep now. Leading up to the 8th, I’ll be accepting story requests. If you can donate and show me a screenshot and just mention HLDC in it so I know it’s for my requests, I’ll write 500-700 words of what you want (smut or otherwise. No CP, no SA, you know the drill.) for a donation of at least 5$.

I’ll be releasing any requests and new things the 8th as well tagging and linking the Lillith Fund.

If you can’t donate you can always share this and @fraugwinska ‘s posts regarding it to spread the word.

At the off chance you’re in a good spot financially, I’ll send you the finale of Loss Of Decorum that I never posted for a donation of $50+. Not publicly, just straight link you to my Google docs. I also have some omega verse reader stuff I’m willing to privately offer.

⋅˚₊‧ ଳ⋆Masterlist.ೃ࿔*:･

˖ ݁𖥔.Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult.𖥔 ݁ ˖

@eris-norwega @reath-solia @catticora , @angelicribbons , @xalygatorx

@cxrsedwxrlds , @nonetheartist , @tsunaki , @janchei , @moonmark98

, @readergirlstuff , @berry-demon , @chirimeimei , @fairyv-ice , @olive-frog ,

@thonethatflies620 , @tiredkiwiii , @ilikemyteawithmilk , @whateverlololo , @psipies

@howabouticallyou , @roxxie-wolf , @fizzled-phoenix , @star-kujo-platinum

, @a-case-of-attachment, @multifandomfanatic02 @watereddownmilk , @bontensbabygirl @smoky000

@hoebihoeshi , @pansexual-opera-house , @polytheatrix , @lorddiabigmommymilkers , @backinthefkingbuildingagain

@harley2223-blog , @poinappel , @midnightnoiserose , @spookieroz , @missmidorima ,

@ivebeenthearchersstuff , @downbadforfictionalppl , @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx , @sleepylittledemon , @aether-th3-enby

@dontfuckbutimfab @breathlessaura , @aperfectidiot , @certainlygay , @jth12

[hellsgreatestevents]

[bapple117]

Happy international women’s day!!

A little femme Vox & Al drawing I did while on stream for the @hellsgreatestevents charity fundraiser event ❤️

[cultofcreatures]

happy international women’s day~

i support women’s rights! (̵̳̥̳̑͒a̷̺̬̋n̶̦̠̣͂͛d̸̨͈̜͂̂ ̵̣̀w̶̦̌͘r̷͕̒̀ö̷͇́̂n̴̩̓̓̎g̵̫̩̻̈́s̶̩̳̀̀)̶̼͖͊̈̕ 😁

velvette and verosika dressed as horror icons tiffany valentine and jennifer check, respectively

this is my entry for the @hellsgreatestevents women’s day fundraiser for the Lilith Fund! please visit their pages for more information on donations and participation. 😊 on this day (03/08/2025), i will donate $5 for every 100 notes this post gets. please consider joining me in our fight for reproductive rights!

[minkdelovely]

obsidian

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧     ✧     ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

“baby

i’ve been waiting

my whole life

for

you and i”

Charlie x Vaggie; Chaggie ; MDNI 18+

tags/warnings: vaggie worship (at 👏🏼 the 👏🏼 top 👏🏼✨ just in case y’all forgot i love love), demon charlie, fluff, adoration, touching/petting, kissing, smut: praise, breast sucking, and vaginal fingering (yes you read ‘fluff’ right above this so what?)

word count: 2.4k

find out more on how you can still donate here

author’s note: it was such an honor to join in on this incredible event created and hosted by my dearest friends @hellsgreatestevents! if you haven’t seen the main post, please check it out and share if you are unable to donate — while the event was yesterday, there’s still time to help raise awareness for this extremely important cause! this is my personal contribution and my first foray into writing for chaggie; something i’ve been wanting to do for a long time but felt absolute NEED when @notherpuppet posted this breathtaking art back in january. many, many thanks to mare for giving me her blessing to use this piece as inspo. i hope it does them justice and that you all enjoy it! quote is from ii hands ii heaven by beyoncé 🙏🏼✨

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧     ✧     ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

Eternity had its perks, but that didn’t mean there weren’t days that felt like eons. 

It had been a tumultuous one for Vaggie and Charlie, stress racketing up bit-by-bit as they navigated the chaos of the day. They could barely manage to lock eyes with each other to exchange a silent what the fuck before another problem fell into their lap. Alastor had been noticeably absent, leaving them alone to handle mangled pep talks, patching walls, and cleaning up ambiguous fluids in the parlor. So when the aforementioned Overlord finally decided to waltz back into the lobby, there was only a split second of relief before he opened his mouth.

“The hotel seems especially shabby today! Was there a hurricane I didn’t hear about? I didn’t think we had those.” 

It didn’t take much for Charlie to bite her tongue, not when she could tell that Vaggie was seeing red — Alastor’s silhouette all she could find in the reflection of her girlfriend’s eye. 

“Aaaand I think it’s time for a break!” Charlie said, her voice flirting with mania as she quickly wrapped an arm around Vaggie’s waist to direct her towards the stairs. Turning to give the Hotelier a pointed look before adding, “I’m sure Alastor is more than capable of managing things for a while.” 

All she got in return was a slow blink and ambiguous smile, which didn’t leave her with much confidence that Alastor would actually stick around to do his job. Something she might have lectured him over if she wasn’t just as desperate to escape upstairs for a bit.

Charlie did her best to deflate Vaggie’s anger, gently smoothing out her hair as Vaggie muttered to herself in Spanish. They had barely managed to close the bedroom door before crashing into each other, pent up frustration escaping in a steaming hiss of relief as lava meets the ocean. 

Vaggie groaned as they clung to each other, with Charlie merely sighing in agreement. Both of them slowly began to relax as their hands mindlessly roamed and petted the other in an effort to soothe. Vaggie shivered as Charlie removed the bow from her hair, the tingle in her scalp traveling all the way down to her toes. 

They pulled away from each other after a moment, the exhaustion of the day so evident in both of their faces. But there was softness in their eyes, sprinkled with a glimmer of pride, and they both let out a soft chuckle before Charlie leaned down to rub her nose against Vaggie’s.

“You did a great job today,” she said, bringing a hand up to cup the angel’s face. “No matter what the problem is, you always know what to do. I really couldn’t do this without you, you know.”

Before her mind could even catch up with the action, Charlie kissed Vaggie’s face; her pace heated but intentional as she eagerly made her way to Vaggie’s jaw. She couldn’t help but nip her teeth at the soft skin, humming as felt the angel relax more in her arms; a heady sigh leaving her lungs through her lovely, open mouth. 

The Princess really couldn’t help but admire the view. Pride scorched through her veins to see the stoic face she adored melting away into one of pleasure. Vaggie’s eye was closed, her thick eyelashes fluttering against her cheekbones. Showcasing the delicate angles of her face in a way that made Charlie’s heart ache, and she couldn’t help but continue to show her appreciation with each kiss. 

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” Charlie purred, baring her fangs again to gently scrape at Vaggie’s throat, right over her black choker. 

She felt her horns begin to sprout as Vaggie cursed in response, relishing the transformation as her eyes glowed gold and sclera went red. Charlie always felt so at ease in this form — her now wild, flowing hair nearly a manifestation of the feeling. Vaggie liked it too, if the sudden roll of her hips was any indication. Charlie took this as her cue to shrug off her jacket, tossing it to the side before she pulled at the bow at her neck. The black slip of fabric and her button up shirt quickly joined their red counterpart on the floor.

“You’re one to talk,” Vaggie chastised, what little edge there was in her tone softened by the timid look on her face before she turned away. The sight of Charlie’s half-naked body making her bashful, despite how much she knew Vaggie admired it.

Charlie loved that she was still shy like this. This sweet vulnerability that no one else got to see but her. Outside of these doors, Vaggie was constantly on high alert. Never allowing herself to be fully relaxed when anything could go wrong in an instant. To those who didn’t know her well, she must seem very stern. And while they may catch glimpses of the softness that hides underneath, it was only Charlie who got to bear witness to this side of her.

No walls, no threats, no guests. Here, it was just the two of them, safe and sound. Where they could completely let go and focus just on each other.

It was only too easy to get lost. 

Charlie’s hands never felt like they were touching enough — her desire to caress and grab and hold easily outweighing her physical capability to satisfy her need. But she managed, reminding herself that they had all the time in the world as she pulled away just long enough to take Vaggie’s shirt off. She would pet her pretty angel for eons if that’s what it took, never tiring of how it felt to have Vaggie’s soft skin under her fingers. Unable to resist giving a testing squeeze to feel the lean muscle underneath.

And still, it wasn’t enough. 

No matter how many scratches or bruises, bites or kisses Charlie gave, her hunger seemed bottomless. She needed more. More shaking, more heat, more goosebumps, more heaving breaths. More of those beautiful whines and moans, echoing off the walls of their room with the resonance of a bell tower. The fruit of her efforts ringing in her ears was nothing short of devious; a wicked symphony of cursing gasps as Charlie’s hand dipped under the hem of Vaggie’s skirt to palm over her panties. 

Charlie chuckled and gave Vaggie a gentle rub, unsurprised to find that she was already wet. “My perfect girl… Have I really made you feel this good already?”

All Vaggie could do was hum and nod, the golden flush under her lavender skin renewing with force. Her eye opened just slightly, and Charlie was thrilled to see that her pupil was blown; a small yellow ring glowing against the surrounding pink. A hot wave of affection coursed through Charlie, dumbstruck again over how ethereal her girlfriend was.

While she hated what Vaggie was subjected to to end up here in Hell, she couldn’t help but be grateful for the twist of fate. God may have created her, but Vaggie was wasted on Heaven. She was always meant to be here with her. And though Charlie wouldn’t consider herself possessive, she was definitely proud.

There were very few things that made Charlie feel confident. A true, albeit sad, admission. And though that list was gradually beginning to grow there was one thing in particular that Charlie could easily say she was truly talented at. Being an excellent lover was an innate gift, a trait that was likely unavoidable given her parentage, and one that so many had to strive for success in, and even then struggled to maintain.

Charlie didn’t take it for granted, though it had been a long and bumpy road in terms of receiving as well as she gave. Awkward and disappointing memories of past relationships flashed through her mind, but she would never regret her efforts. Whether it was giving extravagant presents out of the blue, or rendering her partner speechless in bliss, Charlie was happy to do it. And when the returns began to feel like too much of a deficit she would walk away, left to wonder if she was to be forever burdened with an uneven scale of affection.

Her partnership with Vaggie was recompense. 

Charlie was resolved to show her gratitude and slowly sank to her knees, kissing down Vaggie’s neck, an appreciative moan caught in her throat as she reached the top of Vaggie’s breasts. She brought her hand out from between Vaggie’s legs to teasingly rub and pinch at the softness of her thigh; her other hand kneading Vaggie’s left breast as she kissed the right. A wicked smile spread across her face as Charlie felt the angel’s nipple perk up, giving it a hungry lick over the lace of her bra. The roughness of the fabric against her tongue was a pleasure in itself, but nothing could compete with the way Vaggie’s chest heaved, her heart pounding just below.

She couldn’t bring herself to detach her mouth from Vaggie’s skin for even an instant, relishing the taste of it as she made her way to Vaggie’s other breast. Angels didn’t sweat, but seemed to be imbued with a sweetness she couldn’t place — somewhere between amber and honey that only the Divine could have conjured. Charlie swallowed a rush of saliva just thinking of what awaited her a little further down, using the opportunity to take Vaggie’s breast into her mouth. Her left hand massaging the other, while her free hand snuck behind Vaggie to run a mischievous claw down her spine before coming back up to unclasp her bra with ease. 

With the give of the garment, Vaggie’s breast settled further into the heat of Charlie’s mouth, and she hummed as she suckled the sensitive flesh. Vaggie’s head fell back, a strangled whine leaving her as Charlie let the bra fall away. The warmth of their bare skin finally making contact, while Charlie’s forked tongue teased at Vaggie’s pert nipple.

“You always take things slow,” Vaggie pouted, writhing under Charlie’s touch in a silent plea for more. “Please, amor, I can’t wait… Not today.”

Charlie cursed around the flesh that was still in her mouth, Vaggie’s words igniting the kerosene in her veins. Her whole body was suddenly hot, the ache of her own need screaming to be sated as she tugged Vaggie’s skirt and panties down. Vaggie moaned at the show of force, quickly stepping out of the garments and peeling off her gloves before resting her hands behind Charlie’s neck. 

Vaggie was a vision standing in only her stockings, and Charlie made no secret of her appreciation as her hands roamed the expanse of naked skin. Charlie squeezed Vaggie’s full hips as she pulled the angel closer, straightening herself up enough so that their mouths could find each other to indulge in a deep and languid kiss. Her hands now gliding over Vaggie’s thighs, ass, and waist — kneading and rubbing the suppleness of her body as she drank in every sound and twitch from her love. Vaggie’s impatient grinding against her torso too much to ignore as Charlie’s left hand made its long awaited return to Vaggie’s core, lightly rubbing against her folds before spreading them open to coat her fingers in the ambrosial slick she took such pleasure in inspiring.

“Is this better, Angel?” Charlie teased, licking the underside of Vaggie’s chin as she took in the ruined look on her girlfriend’s face. She couldn’t help the proud smile that tugged at her mouth as Vaggie’s hips rocked against her hand, begging for the fingers that had yet to enter her. 

“Charlie,” Vaggie growled, her nails biting into the thin skin of Charlie’s neck in warning. “You know it’s — ah!”

Vaggie’s complaint was cut short with a swipe of Charlie’s thumb over her swollen nub, her hand finally applying a generous force as she massaged Vaggie’s sex. Charlie placed a kiss over Vaggie’s heart as she finally pressed in, unsurprised that she could glide two of her fingers into her core with ease. And while Vaggie had asked for a quicker pace, what good would it do to hurt the one she cherished over all others? Charlie knew the relief of being filled was enough to quell her impatience for now as she slowly worked Vaggie open, allowing her some freedom to grind into the base of Charlie’s hand.

As they found a rhythm, a string of barely-coherent curses tumbled from Vaggie’s mouth, her breath coming in hot puffs of steam against Charlie’s face that refused to look away. Charlie crooked her fingers and angled her hand so that she was passing over the spongy bundle with each motion, her pace fueled by the eager desperation of Vaggie’s body pulling her in. The room was a symphony of moans and heavy breath, underscored by the lewd wetness between Vaggie’s thighs.

Charlie always knew when Vaggie was close. It always started with a flex of her abdomen, a bite to her lip. Her walls squeezed around Charlie’s fingers as if wishing to commit them to memory, arousal pouring down her hand and landing in warm droplets that soaked into Charlie’s pants. If she had been feeling truly devious, Charlie would have pulled her hand away. Leave Vaggie to whine and bemoan the loss and draw out their fun for a while longer. 

But it had been such a long day… Vaggie faced every challenge head-on and determined as she always did. And deep down Charlie wanted nothing more than to give back as much of the love and security that Vaggie gave to her, by whatever means were bestowed upon her to do so.

“Let go, baby… Cum for me, please, I’ve got you.”

The words were out of her mouth before she could even register that she had said them, with Vaggie’s orgasm quick to follow. She cried as her muscles and body spasmed while Charlie worked her through it, fingers pressing more than pumping as Vaggie’s hips rocked against her soaked palm. After a moment, Charlie withdrew her hand and brought it to her mouth, their eyes locked on each other as she lapped at the sweet arousal that was too precious to waste. She finished with a salacious grin, and hooked her arms under Vaggie’s thighs before rising off the floor.

Vaggie wrapped herself around Charlie, taking refuge in her strength as she placed soft and reverent kisses wherever Vaggie’s lips could touch as Charlie brought them to the bathroom. All their worries forgotten by the promise of a hot bath and another evening of finding refuge in their loving bed.

Meant to be, like ocean waves against volcanic shores.

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧     ✧     ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

tag list: @fairyv-ice, @wat4r, @midorichoco, @raynerrold, @krak-jj, @tremendoushearttaco, @redfoxwritesstuff, @chibistar45, @kaylopolis, @cutiebimbo, @lousypotatoes, @rfox1998, @cosmiccandydreamer, @hyperfixations-keep-me-going, @catticora, @velvette3, @sailorsmouth, @reath-solia, @junieshohoho, @cxrsedwxrlds, @littlebluefishtail, @nxcxllxsevens, @swagkittybear, @hazelfoureyes, @sugoi-writes, @fraugwinska, @macabr3-barbi3, @synamartia, @kewpikayo, @reinthechaosdeer

[redfoxwritesstuff]

Requests are opened, limited but you get to the front of the line with proof of donation!

The catch? Unlike some of the amazing participants here, I can't promise I'll fill every request today but any that don't make it will be filled later this week. I've got homestead chores to do, drywall to hang and frankly, I'm not feeling too hot today- hence my late joining in!

I know not everyone can donate or can donate much so here is what I'm offering:

Under $5 -- I will walk my happy ass outside and take a picture of the chickens for you. Each donation gets another trip outside and another chicken picture. Why? Because idk, the chickens are cute. You can also request the cats or the dogs, idc.

$5+ -- A short request to be filled this week. We're talking under 1.5k words, more like a scene than a story. Your OC, My OC, MCU, Hiddleston, Hazbin- if you've ever seen me write for them, they're on the floor. Smut or no smut. You're at the front of the line.

$25-- You're willing to wait a bit longer but you're wanting a bit longer of a fic- Under 3k words.

$50+ -- combined donations specifically requesting just a bonus chapter for A Misdemeanor Of The Heart... gets everyone a bonus chapter. (claimed!)

IF YOU WOULD LIKE TO DONATE AND REQUEST, THE LINKS TO THE CHARITY ARE BELOW. None of the money goes to me, it all goes directly to the Lilith Fund. Let's raise some money ♡

How can I donate to the Lilith Fund?

Direct donations can be done through the Lilith Fund’s Homepage (credit card required) on https://www.lilithfund.org/donate

Donations can also be made through the Lilith Fund’s charity Paypal (Paypal account required).

US based supporters should use this link: https://www.paypal.com/fundraiser/charity/1747713

EU based members should use this link: https://www.paypal.com/US/fundraiser/charity/1747713

Please Note: Please use this exact link as the ‘normal’ US link won’t work for international donors! If you are a creator taking requests, please be sure to share this with your followers.

[dewdropdinosaur]

Hi everyone!

I wanted everyone to know that I will be participating in this event, along with some of my fellow friends and writers in the community.

This is such an important topic and issue to discuss and I am beyond grateful that as a fandom community we get to support women around the world and their right to reproductive healthcare. I am also beyond thankful that Mr. Amir Talai would support this issue and us.

Below is the list of ways I will be participating:

- I will be donating 2 dollars myself for every 1000 words written.

- With proof of a $5 donation, I will write you a 750 word fic with whoever you want (smut, fluff, etc as long as it still follows the guidelines pinned on my blog)

- With proof of a $10 donation, I will write you a 1250 word fic with whoever you want. Same rules apply.

I will be available to take requests between the hours of 5 PM and 10 PM EST

What happens if I do not fulfill your request in that time frame but you still donated?

I WILL STILL FILL THE REQUEST and you will receive it by March 15th at the latest.

Thank you so much my lovelies and stay cool!

Love, Dewdrop Dino

[anxious-acorn]

Trust Me

A ‘Black Coffee’ universe side story

Summary: Alastor’s experience with Vox all those years ago.

Acorn Note: CW/TW. Please be kind to yourself and skip if you need to. This is already known information in the main story, so please don’t think you’re missing anything crazy important if you skip. ❤️

“Shhh, it’s alright. Just trust me. I love you- I would never hurt you; trust me…”

Why was this voice so soothing and comforting, when Alastor was so very UNcomfortable. Vox wasn’t necessarily lying, was he? The picture box wasn’t hurting him… Not physically, at least.

Large clawed hands pawed and groped at his chest, and as one slid down his ribs, Alastor fought through the fizzling fog of his mind. The hand wrapped completely around his waist, and Vox groaned as he squeezed at what little fat the other demon possessed.

Why wasn’t he doing something? Anything. He was the Radio Demon. He could drop this walking picture box easily. The other demon wasn’t paying attention to Alastor’s discomfort- almost seeming in his own little world as his tongue slipped between Alastor’s teeth. He could bite that tongue off. Rip the picture box to absolute shreds.

But why? Why couldn’t he just. Move! Break through the peaceful veil, and end one of the only relationships that had (up to this moment) made him feel loved. Safe.

“God Al, I love you, but you could use a little mouthwash,” Vox chuckled through his moans after pulling his vile tongue from his mouth.

“You’re so beautiful.”

Alastor tried to speak- tried to say anything to show Vox he had no interest in this kind of relationship. That he never cared about his dental hygiene after falling, and that it was actually a deterrent for fools just like him. He didn’t want to be kissed.

Alastor felt Vox pull him closer, hips pushing forward to press his erections into his own soft penis. Two erections. Two penises. Dear Satan, why was he allowing this to happen?

‘Help…’

Vox’s screen was warm as he rubbed against his chest with a soft moan.

“Plea… Stop thi-“

“Shhshshh, it’s okay. You’re okay Al. I want to make you feel good. Look at me, Al.” Vox cupped his face, and when Alastor looked back to the other demon, he felt a wave of calm rush over him.

No, not calm. Hypnosis. The picture box was trying to hypnotize him. The Radio Demon.

He didn’t want any of this. He was losing another friend… No, they’d never truly been friends, not if this is what the picture box had been planning all along.

“Trust me.”

Crimson eyes melted into black as Alastor pushed back this time. Panic began forming in Vox’s eyes as the Radio Demon thrust him back from the sheer force of his responding interference, a loud boom sounding in the air.

With the loud distraction, Alastor felt his mind finally begin to clear, and he was shaking. Fear was there, yes, but over it- above all else was rage. Pure, unfiltered, brokenhearted fury.

Vox had yet to rise, perhaps trying to delay his retribution. Alastor stalked slowly over to glare down at the cracked glass of his screen, smile wide and sinister as he stabbed his cane into the other demon’s chest.

“I had wondered if perhaps one day you would wish to test that little trick out on me; I’d even planned on allowing it- should you have asked.” He ground and circled the end of his cane, enjoying the pained turn those moans had taken.

“Well I must say, my dear, I’m quite glad now that I never offered. Now that I know what was playing in that contemptible little mind.”

Vox groaned under him, his screen going blue before black, and the demon was gone. Not the most satisfying of murders, but you can’t exactly draw a man’s pain out when his heart is playing host to the business end of a cane.

Alastor stayed there for a while, staring down at what used to be one of his best and closest friends. He couldn’t contain the swirl of emotion filling his being, and he could just only shadow himself back to his home, and up into his radio tower.

The Radio Demon began to pace as he willed himself not to think about what had almost happened. What Vox was willing to do to someone he claimed to care about- love even…

Alastor felt as though his body wanted to burst, the shivers coming without him even noticing. He was okay. Nothing had happened. He was perfectly safe and unharmed.

So why did he feel like his whole world was falling apart? Why did he feel as though his skin was too tight?

‘Everything is alright, old boy. Nothing important happened. I made it out. I’m alright. I’m…’

He felt so incredibly UNsafe. His radio tower was the safest place in Pride. He had no reason to feel this way.

With a snarling growl, he began pulling at his hair- yanking and ripping. Anything to lessen the chaotic torrential agony slicing him from the inside.

Hours passed as Alastor worked to calm himself. A day passed and the pain gave way to a soothing numbness. He worked to control those feelings- and eventually it became incrementally better.

Years passed, and Alastor made new friends (well, owned souls, but who’s counting). Rosie and Mimzy kept his spirits relatively high with their visits, but there was always that crackling in his chest from misuse.

Vox seemed to gain power relatively quickly, teaming up with a couple of other overlords as his business grew, and though Alastor had gone about his life, he never seemed quite able to shake the picture box. So he leaned in, and antagonized in return. Only if the other demon fired shots first, but he always had the last laugh.

Walking toward a new butcher shop he’d spied, Alastor passed by a technology store, new large picture boxes filled the glass display, and though he still felt a twinge of discomfort, Alastor walked calmly past, unbothered smile quite literally stitched in place under the surface of his typical form. He’d done that when he fell- never let the enemy see you hurt.

The screens slowly began changing as he passed them, the regular programming switching to a giant visage of the new, unimproved Vox staring down at him. It boiled his blood, but Alastor paused in his steps briefly to look back at the picture box. ‘Cultish fucker,’ he thought, giving an exaggerated sigh to interrupt the hypnotized souls watching the screens.

“Too bad there’s nothing good on these days…”

He continued walking, noticing a couple of the previously hypnotized demons walk away, but the majority of the crowd went back to watching. The screens changed to a VoxTech commercial, and Alastor had to force himself not to shudder at the all too familiar words leaving Vox’s mouth.

“Trust me!”

——-///////://———////////:

End.

[ritualofcirice]

My requests are officially open to raise money for the Lilith Fund!

I WILL BE WRITING FOR THE NEXT 24 HOURS STARTING NOW ♡

If you're not caught up, here's a bit about what's going on.

@hellsgreatestevents are hosting a charity event to raise money for the Lilith Fund. They are an American charity that supports people in being able to access abortions and reproductive health care.

This is a lengthy post, but I'm copying across everything so people know exactly what I'm doing.

Since I'm a multifandom blog, you're welcome to ask for any fandom I have written for. I can also provide an extensive list of all my fandoms if anyone would like.

If you send me a recipet as proof of your donation, I will:

Write headcanons/imagines or a 750 word oneshot for a donation of £5-£10. Write a 1.5k word oneshot for a donation of £10-£20.

What am I happy to write?

I will be doing SFW and NSFW stories. NSFW requesters MUST PROVIDE ID TO PROVE THEIR AGE by sending me a message on Discord: thelittlestlamb I will turn down NSFW requests if you have not provided me proof of age even if you have given me proof of a receipt. x Readers, ships, and stories not focused on a romantic pairing are all fine to request. Please check out these posts for more info on what I do and don't write: SFW/NSFW

What happens if I am not able to complete your request in the time frame?

I will still honour your request, and I will continue writing any leftover requests after the event (once I've had some sleep)! I will add you in some extra words too as a huge thanks!

IF YOU WOULD LIKE TO DONATE AND REQUEST, THE LINKS TO THE CHARITY ARE BELOW. None of the money goes to me, it all goes directly to the Lilith Fund. Let's raise some money ♡

How can I donate to the Lilith Fund?

Direct donations can be done through the Lilith Fund’s Homepage (credit card required) on https://www.lilithfund.org/donate 

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Please Note: Please use this exact link as the ‘normal’ US link won’t work for international donors! If you are a creator taking requests, please be sure to share this with your followers.

[aneldritchfootnote]

XI The Justice of Lilith

In honour of International Women's Day 2025 and @hellsgreatestevents's initiative to raise money for the Lilith Fund

Please check out this post to see how you can contribute 🖤

[macabr3-barbi3]

My wonderful Barbie,

My sister from another mister. How did I live life without your funny, witty, lovely presence in it? Our friendship is something I will treasure until I go to hell myself, and if I'm the first of us to go I'll get a dinky lil apartment and will wait for you to join me so we can rock eternal damnation together!

This donation is in your honor.

It's with no strings attached, just one of the ways I can try to show you how much I love you. If you wish though - You know that I would love to see you write a Vox or Alastor piece that makes the toes curl and the heart flutter.

❤️

first, please know that I have been sitting on this fic for literally MONTHS trying to get it done for a special occasion for you and never finding the fight inspiration to finish it. FINALLY I found the rest of the story and I am so happy to be sharing it in response to this beautiful ask, for a beautiful cause, from a beautiful friend ❤️

This is one of two fics that I am posting in your honor today to count notes for the final bits of the International Women's Day event and I hope everyone enjoys!

Another reminder (sorry I'm a broken record lol) that I'll personally be donating $3 for every 15 notes that the fics with this banner are receiving 💗find fic #1 (RadioStatic breeding kink fic) here and fic #2 (innocent Alastor x Reader) here! I'll stop counting around 12PM EST tomorrow so we can get our final tallys in.

Get more information about the event and future ones by following us on Tumblr @hellsgreatestevents and Bluesky!

Without any further ado, a casual not-quite-request from my darling from like July of 2024: promiscuous!reader x Alastor who thinks they have 0 attraction to him despite flirting/sleeping with literally ANYONE else

Tags: promiscuous fem reader; non sex-repulsed Alastor; possessive Alastor; fingering; handjob; 'It's just biology' logic lol

It shouldn’t bother him the way that it does.

Oh, it does.

Alastor watches you from the shadows of the hotel from the moment that you arrive- another deer, he supposes it’s mere instinct to keep an eye on you, some herd mentality that makes his eyes trail your form as you pass from one room to another, makes his ears twitch in tandem when yours flatten or stiffen in response to something. (He’s never reacted similarly to any other cervine Sinner in Hell, but it’s a comforting logic to cling to.) He sends his shadow to monitor you one time only when he catches a scent of distress coming from your bedroom, only for the blasted thing to tell him you were engaged in ‘personal matters’ that made his mind race and his normally dormant lower half twitch with interest. He throws up wards around your room to keep your scent and sounds contained, and assumes that will be the end of it.

It’s only the beginning- as soon as you acclimate to the Hotel, to Hell as a whole, the string of lovers begins. You would bring them to the hotel late in the day and send them off early the next morning; an assortment of men and women, sinners and succubi and Hellhounds, he’s even sure he may have seen an Overlord make an appearance, though no one of any real importance. Charlie and Vaggie finally catch wind of it, and politely ask that you stop bringing your parade of paramours to the doors of the Hotel; you agree to it, Alastor listening from the shadows around the corner, silently pleased that your brazen flaunting of your sexuality will be forced to come to an end.

Except… it doesn’t. You come home some nights smelling of cheap perfume and rancid cologne and what Alastor can only assume is bodily fluids before excusing yourself to your bedroom and emerging later smelling like yourself again- he can smell it on you, see the signs of your amorous hobbies, and no one else seems to notice or care, besides Angel Dust asking on occasion, “You look well taken care of, toots; who’s the lucky individual?”

Laughing when you respond, “who isn’t?” Like you were sharing your body with simply anyone.

It would be one thing if that was all he was subject to. But aside from your more promiscuous activities, you also rivaled the spider demon in terms of flirting and innuendo! At breakfast or lunch with the rest of the Hotel occupants, you would let suggestive comments fly across the table or lobby to everyone- winking at Angel as you swirled your tongue around an ice cream cone; dropping your voice to a lower register when leaning across the bar to ask Husk for a drink; ‘jokingly’ asking the Princess and Vaggie if they were looking for another participant when they mentioned going to bed one night. You weren’t as persistent or forward as the spider used to be- when Vaggie had growled in response to your question you had immediately backed off and apologized profusely- but you were very generous with your compliments and comments with everyone in the Hotel, even Niffty, going so far as to make a pass at Lucifer himself one night that he joined the group.

That, at least, had been entertaining- watching the King seem to choke on his own tongue as he flushed and tried to stammer out a response to your invitation to your bedroom, away from the ears of his daughter.

But your attention was never turned to him.

You never turned shy or demure like one would expect, but you made no pass at Alastor. No innuendos or offers like you made to the others, like you clearly made to the seemingly never ending stream of creatures and sinners that you warmed the sheets of. You chatted with him and laughed and spoke about music and literature but you never complimented him or invited him to your room as he had seen you do with countless others. And normally he wouldn’t care in the slightest- normally he would prefer it this way. When he thinks of the comments he got from the porn star that were always dismissed, the fumbled passes that Vox had made at him during their partnership that had never interested him in the slightest, the various offers and invitations that he had received over the years since arriving in Hell, he feels nothing.

You, though…

Perhaps it's the nature of his sinner form; the buck in him distraught at the idea that such a pretty, fertile doe didn’t think he was acceptable as a sexual partner when you would take on anyone else, and do so blatantly, right in front of him. But the thought of it keeps him up at night, his trousers tight and his antlers large and itchy, scratching at the bark of the trees in his bayou when he risks dropping his wards around your bedroom one night and smells that same scent from before, what he had thought was distress and could now recognize as being arousal. He refuses to lower himself as far as touching his straining erection, but the fact of you not wanting him eats him alive.

To his credit, he resists for a decent amount of time. Alastor lets the thoughts stew and thinks of you- what you’re doing with others, the ways they might be touching you, the sounds you might be making during it. He doesn’t allow himself to follow you when you step out in the evenings, keeps his shadow close to his side when you leave and come back smelling of sex.

A man can only have so much self control.

He’s down in the kitchen late in the evening when the light switches on, and your soft gasp of surprise graces his ears. When he looks over at you he wishes you had kept the lights off- you stand there in a mere slip of a nightgown, black and silky and clinging to the lines of your body like a second skin. Indecent. Alluring. Far, far too tempting, and he keeps his distance across the room, willing his antlers to stay as they are and not branch out to crowd the space at the close proximity to a potential mate.

He feels an eyebrow quirk up at that- mate was new, the word dangerous as it curls through his brain while he watches you, ears dropped low against your head and a blush tinting your face.

“Good evening, dear,” he says cordially, and resumes his earlier actions of making an evening cup of tea- like everything is normal, like the mere presence of you isn’t sending blood rushing through his body.

You seem to breathe a sigh of relief  before fully coming into the room, wrapping your arms around yourself, the motion pushing the mounds of your breasts up ever so slightly. He forces himself to look away, to stay busy as you approach and stand next to him. “Hi, Alastor. Think I could get one of those?” You gesture to the mug he holds in his hands.

“Why, of course! Allow me to-” 

When your arm drops back down he catches the scent on the air that you displace- Frustration. Arousal. There’s a second of silence before the glass he holds drops to the floor as he abandons all notion of tea in favor of reaching for you, tugging you closer so that you’re fitted against his body, tucked under his chin as he drops it down to sniff at your hair, one hand clasped around your bicep and the other coming around the back to hold you to him.

You make an alarmed squeak but don’t pull away, tilting your head up to try and look at him. The noise you make is inquisitive but not scared as he turns the pair of you, pins you between his chest and the counter and just breathes in the intoxicating cocktail of scent that you give off. He recognizes that he’s overstepping his boundaries- his mother would skin his hide if she was anywhere near Hell and knew he was behaving in such a manner- but he’s held out admirably long, and the need to know why, why, why was beating insistently at his thoughts. And after this, who knew if you would ever let him so close to you again? If you would even stay in the Hotel? The mere idea of you being anywhere else, away from his watchful eye and protection, makes his antlers ache.

“Forgive me,” he murmurs into your scalp, as eager to explain his actions away as he was to get answers from you even if he can’t bring himself to release you yet. “It’s a… biological impulse, I presume, because of our-”

“Because we’re deer?” You ask softly, the whisper of your breath tickling the skin of his chest where it pokes out of his shirt, and his erection aches where it suddenly strains against his trousers. He angles his hips back subtly, resists the urge to shove forward instead.

“Right. I’m afraid I- I was not thinking, and not myself.” He feels a flush take over his face, glad that you can’t see it where you’re held against him. “I believe if I can just- take in your scent for a moment, that should appease the instinct.” He doesn’t know what he’s saying, but you hum into his shirt and stay put, so he assumes it’s a passable excuse.

You stand there quietly with him for a moment before the traitorous words bubble out of his throat against his will, the curiosity overriding his logic. “Why do you show no interest in me like you do the others?”

You stiffen in his hold- and even at this sign of alarm he can’t bring himself to release you. “I don’t- I’m not sure what you mean, Alastor,” you stammer, but he can smell it on you, the nerves, the anxiety in the phrase.

“It’s not my intention to scare you- nor corner you like this,” he adds, nodding down at his arms that cage you against the counter. “Merely a curiosity, and unfortunate coincidence. You offer your compliments freely, you make advances, you have an endless stream of lovers, and yet you have never directed such attention my way. Even Niffty has been at the receiving end of your flirting, albeit in a joking manner.” You’re silent in his arms, muscles tense and face turned away from him, and he keeps his hands where they are instead of doing something stupid like brushing his fingers against your cheek and turning you to face him. “Have I offended you in some manner? Do you simply not find me to be appealing?”

“No!” Your eyes are wide when you meet his again, a sweet blush to your face as you deny. “No, I mean, you’re fine, you haven’t done anything wrong- and you’re hot, so that’s not- fuck. Fuck. It’s really nothing, Alastor-”

And there it was again- that scent that you carried with you, pheromones that broadcasted to him as clearly as a radio that you were aroused, a tinge of embarrassment tinting it now instead of the frustration from earlier and it’s simply not enough. He drops his face to your shoulder, ignoring your soft squeak of alarm in favor of inhaling deeply at the curve of your neck where it’s the strongest that he can reach. It’s heady and thick, almost feeling like it’s coating his airways as it travels through his body, cock leaking inside his trousers now. “Doesn’t smell like nothing,” he murmurs absently, and your hands come up from where they’ve been gripping the counter to fist into his shirt. An explanation, he tells himself as he meets your eyes again, dilated and wide. That’s all I need. That will sate this feeling. That will return me to normal. That will-

He’s taken off guard by your dragging him down to meet your lips, more a clash of teeth than anything else before you get the angle right, surprising him with your tongue against his teeth as you try to lick into his mouth. His noise of surprise is muffled into the kiss, and it gives you the opportunity you need to get your tongue in his mouth, stroke with the slick muscle along his own. The action makes his hips jolt forward, erection finally pressed against the warmth of your body for a blissful moment before he remembers himself and angles away again.

He tries to, anyway. Your hands leave his shirt to tug at his belt loops, bringing his hips back into alignment with yours and causing a moan to vibrate from your mouth and into his as you clumsily try to grind into him.

Alastor releases you- only for a moment, only to reposition his hands so he can hold you even closer, shift you up onto the counter to press harder against you so he can finally satisfy the instinctive craving that had been plaguing him for months- and before he can do anything further you tear away with a gasp, letting go of his hips to push at his chest and try to put distance between the two of you.

“Oh my God,” you whisper, and were it not for the note of panic that now taints your delicious scent he would tease you for the calling of a being so far removed from Hell when he manages to settle his hands on your body again. “Fuck, I didn’t mean- I’m so sorry, Alastor, I wasn’t thinking,” and through your stammering your face is darkening, ears laid flat against your head.

One can only guess what sort of foolish things you’re telling yourself- that he didn’t want this, that you shouldn’t have kissed him, that this would surely result in some kind of disaster. What he was more focused on was the huff of your breath against his chest, the thrum of your heartbeat under his fingertips, the twitch of your ears. The heat of your body pressed against his as you had attempted to grind down, such an obvious display of your attraction to him that he knows he needs to cease your rampant overthinking before you do something terrible, like flee from him.

“My dear,” he says softly, and your eyes dart up, wide, trembling like your fingers against his chest. Much more like a frightened bird than the doe you were. “If you explain your hesitation, we can sort out any confusion that might linger between us, and get back to the more important matters at hand.” He brings a hand up from your hip to trace along the curve of your jaw, and the exhale that escapes you is hot against his wrist when he pulls you back against him. “Tell me your concerns.”

“You don’t actually want this,” you stutter out, your tongue darting out to wet your dry lips, and it’s all he can do not to reclaim your mouth. “It’s- you’re only reacting like this because we’re both deer, you wouldn’t normally-”

“Do you think,” he interrupts with a roll of his hips into you, “that you are the first deer demon I’ve ever come across in all my years in Hell?”

Your eyes widen. “You- but you just said-”

“Yes, in an effort to spare myself the embarrassment of clinging to a young lady that I thought had no interest in me.” He places his hands on your waist and lifts you with little effort to rest on the edge of the counter so he can step fully between your legs. “It seems that may not be the case.”

You whimper, low and broken as his thumb brushes the skin of your thighs. “It’s not,” you confess. “I’ve… it wasn’t the whole time. I mean, I like sex with other people but lately its been- killing me, wanting you. I didn’t think you would want anything.”

“You thought wrong.” He slides his hands under your nightgown, the feeling of your bare skin under his hands igniting the heat within him anew. “I want everything from you.” He clasps you to his body and grinds, his erection dragging deliciously against the soaked warmth between your legs. “You were touching yourself just moments before you entered the kitchen, weren’t you? You couldn’t reach satisfaction; that’s why you smell of frustration, or arousal. Your scent has been driving me mad, these… lovers you’ve been with have been intolerable.”

He can feel the swollen nub of your clit through your panties, wet with slick from your time spent pleasuring yourself and unable to find release. He can almost feel the folds of you molding to his shape, parting with ease to invite him in if he so wished. 

He wouldn’t take you here. Alastor had craved you for too long to be satisfied with a fumbling romp in the kitchen in the dead of night- he was a gentleman, and would take you to bed and whisper the words of praise that you were so deserving of as he entered you for the first time. He would ensure that the evening was beautiful and worthy of how long you both had waited, unknowing of how easy it all could have been.

For now, though, you were both vibrating with the tension of months of pent up frustration, and he wouldn’t make you wait any longer, his own release be damned. He would show you that none of the others you had bedded were any sort of viable substitution for him.

He asks, “may I?” As he teases his fingers along the waist of your panties, and your breathy agreement is music to his ears as he simply vanishes them away and slips his fingers into your core. You’re wet for him, the smell of your arousal overwhelming now that you’re bare before him, open for his touch, and while he has little experience in this area he’s able to read the tremble of your body in his arms well enough, the whimpers and gasps that you let out into his ears. He searches, fingers gentle in their exploration as he aches in his slacks, grinding against the counter with what little leverage he has and watching your face for any sign of discomfort. He finds the answer to his questioning touch in a pliable spot of flesh that he crooks his fingers against, and your body trembles in his arms. He hardly needs your frantic whisper of “yes, there, please,” but the feedback is encouraging anyway as he presses hard, withdrawing and adding another finger at the encouraging thrust of your hips.

He wishes he could taste you, knows that you would be just as sweet on his tongue as you felt clenched around his digits. You’re both too wound for that now, as he would want to take his time in savoring you, and so he settles for letting you come undone around his fingers. He finds a promising angle by pushing up on the tips of his hooves, and that gives him the angle he needs to rut into your thigh, hot as the rest of your body and deliciously firm against his cock. Your cunt weeps with arousal, and he swipes his thumb through it for an effortless glide against your clit as he rocks his fingers in a steady rhythm.

“Please,” you whisper, and there’s a hand shoved against his belt buckle, clawing at the clasp in the little space that exists between your bodies. “I want to touch you- please, can I?” Your eyes are wet with pleasure, every inch of your visible skin flushed and your request sweet as honey in the air as you wait for his approval. He nods, and his head drops to your shoulder with a defeated groan at the first touch of your hands to his bare erection.

Your grip is firm, hot- experienced, he thinks with a distant throb of jealousy knowing how many others you had been with to have gained such knowledge. How many others had held you against a counter or wall like this with some part of their body inside of you, your delicate hand touching them in return? What was the exact number of Sinners he would have to hunt down that became familiar with the flavor of your moans before he had been given the chance to sample you?

“Fuck, Alastor,” you cry out, and he grins sharp and dangerous into the crook of your neck at the realization that none of your previous lovers mattered now- all that existed to you in this moment was him, his fingers buried in the tight clench of your body, his cock leaking in your hand, his name on your soft lips. You were pliant and warm and perfect, and he would ensure that you never needed anyone else to satisfy you for the rest of your afterlife.

His orgasm catches him nearly by surprise, hips jerking as he spills hard and messy over your fingers. His voice catches on a desperate moan of your name, and somehow this- staticky and rough and broken- is what takes you over the edge as well, your inner walls fluttering hard around his fingers and even more slick gushing from you to coat him in the evidence of your satisfaction.

You take a moment to simply breathe, bringing a hand up to rest on his shoulder before you start laughing.

Alastor is almost offended, but when he pulls back from your shoulder your smile is fond and pleased. “To think we could have been doing this all along,” you tease, and run your thumb through the mess of his orgasm and lightly against his tip before withdrawing from his pants. You roll your hips against his fingers as he pulls them from you, and the small action is enough to have his spent cock twitching once again.

“Not all along,” he says, bringing his fingers up to inspect, delighting in your renewed blush when he pops one into his mouth for a taste and is rewarded with it being every bit as delicious as he had hoped. “I’m sure with your expertise we would have graduated to more adventurous endeavors by now.”

“My expertise?” You feign offense, your tone exaggerated and your smile genuine as you look up at him. “Why, Alastor, are you implying I’m some sort of tart?”

His eyes are dark as he growls, “not anymore, you aren’t,” and scoops you into his arms to retreat to his bedroom with the ghost of your laughter echoing in the kitchen when you’re gone.

[aneldritchfootnote]

O The Fool

As requested by strangetea6 on Bluesky

In honour of International Women's Day 2025 and @hellsgreatestevents's initiative to raise money for the Lilith Fund!

[macabr3-barbi3]

Unexpected Attractions (Vox/Reader SFW)

(Hell's Greatest International Women's Day Fic #4)

Welcome to fic #4! Yet another reminder (sorry guys I promise this is the last one) that I'll personally be donating $3 to the Lilith Fund for every 15 notes that the fics with this banner are receiving 💗find fic #1 (RadioStatic NSFW) here, fic #2 (innocent Alastor x Reader NSFW) here, and fic #3 (promiscuous reader x Alastor NSFW) right here! I'll stop counting notes around 12PM EST on 3/10/25 so we can get our final tallys in.

Check out @hellsgreatestevents to see how we're doing so far and get updates on future events like this one for the Lilith Fund!

Tags: Lu Lu World, Vox is a businessman; he's also a simp; Meet Cute; Vox resolves other people's trauma instead of his own; Out of Character Vox? Kinda but who cares lol; Amusement park date

A huge thank you to my darling @fraugwinska for basically writing the last couple of paragraphs for me since I got stuck; I owe you my entire heart and soul 💕

One day, the lack of basic respect that he got as an Overlord would be a problem. Not for him, of course, but for the shitbags that ran establishments like Lu Lu World and thought that his time was expendable and could be wasted without so much as a ‘fuck you.’

Vox was courteous enough to arrive early for his meeting with the security team to discuss installing new cameras and sensors all over the park. They, however, couldn’t even be bothered to let his assistant know before he made the fucking trip that they would be pushing the meeting back by three and a half hours, effectively trapping him at this shitty theme park for the sake of convenience- why bother going home when he would just have to come back?

He was going to gouge their prices, he decided. Double and a half what they had initially discussed just for the fuck of it- if they wanted to play games then he would too. Let them spend exorbitant amounts of money for the sin of pissing him off; see if Vox gave a shit. Maybe he would use the extra time to take a look around the park and see what areas could be improved upon by security measures- the entrances and exits, of course, and stationed outside employee areas to keep an eye on the comings and goings of park staff. He could charge them even more for the use of his time if he was actually doing something rather than just sitting around waiting for hours.

Someone slams into his side, a giggling couple that races off without a backwards glance at the man they shoulder-checked, and static sparks between his antennae in anger as he brushes himself off. “Oh no, excuse me,” he mutters sarcastically. “People die and their fucking manners are the first to go, huh?”

“Oh, they’re always like that,” he hears, and looks over to see you seated on a bench, the heel of your hand rubbing across your eyes as you look at him. They’re rimmed in red, but still bright and interested when you meet his gaze. “I could apologize for them, but I don’t think they’d care either way- I’m supposed to be their friend and they don’t care about hurting me, why would a stranger be any different?”

“What, they blow you off or something?” He watches you roll your eyes in irritation, a frown overtaking the pretty features of your face. 

You shrug, looking past him to watch your friend's backs fade in the distance. “Yeah, but nothing new. It was supposed to be a group hang- despite saying they were fine with it before, they didn’t want a third wheel anymore. So now I’m gonna have to spend a fuckton of money to get home since, of course, they were also my ride.” You smile but it doesn’t reach your eyes, an expression he’s too familiar with. 

“You could stay- do your own thing while you wait for them to finish,” he offers, and you shoot him a look that suggests he’s a fucking idiot.

“What kind of loser hangs around an amusement park by themselves?”

He had been there when he was alive; middle and high school years spent waiting for friends that always seemed to be one seat short, one movie ticket shy of enough for the whole group. “We’ll get you next time,” and then the next time never came. Always the last one called, the first one singled out, the last minute ‘you can come if you want’ invitation until he had finished college and actually made something of himself. How many times had he sat on a bench like this watching his own friends walk away from him, without a care for how he felt having to watch them have fun as they left him behind?

Vox hadn’t thought about those feelings in years, having shoved them down deep when he grew up, came to Hell and pushed himself farther than he ever could have gone when he was alive. He had an empire now, a business not bound by morals and laws, people that respected and feared him.

He still remembered what it felt like to be where you were.

It’s a split second decision, but he had time to waste- he figured taking you with him on his personal tour wouldn’t put too much of a damper on his plans with the meeting being pushed back, and having someone to talk to, barring any punishable offense on your part, would probably make the hours pass faster.

“Why don’t you hang out with me for a while?” He asks, and extends a hand out to you. When you don’t take it, he flashes you a winning smile. “I have some stuff to do around the park- join me.”

You eye him warily, but take his hand and let him pull you to standing. “You really don’t have to do that,” you tell him, but you don’t resist when he tightens his grip against your fingers. “What would people think of the VoxTek CEO hanging around Lu Lu World with some random Sinner? What are you even doing here?”

“Business,” he says simply, gesturing around them. “Business that is lent credibility if I’m actually doing things at the park instead of just observing.” And that was mostly a lie that he had thought of on the spot, but he felt like he needed to convince you now, to make this day better for you like no one had even done for him when he was topside. “And what kind of loser hangs around an amusement park by themselves? You’d be doing me a favor, honestly.”

Your eyebrow creases in suspicion at him using your words against you. “Really- I’m fine just going home.”

“And letting your shitbag friends know that they can do this to you whenever they want? Come on- have some fun with me. Don’t let them ruin what should have been a good day.” When you frown and look again in the direction that your friends had gone, he lowers his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “Come on. Just until I have to go to my meeting. I can get us a Fast Pass so we can cut the lines. Imagine their faces seeing you get to jump to the front. Worth it, huh?”

And with this you smile- genuine and pleased and a little mischievous. “I might be able to be persuaded for that,” you say, and let him pull you along to the entrance gate to be fitted with the bracelet that would allow the pair of you to cut the lines.

Bracelets affixed, you walked slowly through the rows of vendors and games, the silence between you not entirely uncomfortable. He hadn’t been to an amusement park in years, and between looking for security risks around the park while you walked around together and trying to decide on a ride to go on together, he wasn’t too impressed. Neither of you seemed particularly excited at the prospect of one of the huge roller coasters- not that he was scared, of course, but with his head being made up of fragile electronic components he was… reasonably cautious. He would have been down for some of the easier rides, something like the Ferris Wheel or one of those funky little spinning teacups or something that couldn’t do much harm.

Then he had seen your face drop when you noticed your friends towards the middle of the line for the largest, most popular ride in the park and, well…

That was too good an opportunity to pass up.

“Hey.” He reached over and tugged at the band on your wrist. “Paid an arm and a leg for these for a reason, doll. Let’s go.”

Your smile lit up your entire face, and that was almost worth the money on its own. Watching your friends’ expressions sour when he brought you to the front of the line for the operator to let you pass for the next cycle of the coaster took it the rest of the way to ‘worth it.’

The ride itself wasn’t bad- more fun than he had anticipated, and your shriek of laughter at his side when you hit the first drop made him smile more genuinely than he had in a while. Your grip on his forearm was firm through the whole ride, still holding on when the cart eventually slowed and you exited the ride together, still holding on when you saw your friends still not at the front of the line and stuck your tongue out at them as you left together.

Your hair was windswept and wild, pieces flying into your face when you looked up at him with eyes like stars and asked, “what’s next?”

The mirror maze is dangerous with his face, but he lets you lead him through by the hand, always in front to walk into any mirrors that stand in the way. You never seriously hurt yourself, always bouncing off the glass with a laugh that echoes through the space when you look back at him to make sure he’s following.

The other roller coasters are disappointing compared to that first one, but apparently your friends were adrenaline junkies; you got to watch their excitement dwindle every time the pair of you approached one that they were in line for, cutting to the front each time and leaving them stewing in their jealousy.  Vox liked watching you look at the images after each ride, surreptitiously handing the booth attendant his credit card to pay for small copies of the photos the two of you were in so you could take them home with you when the day was over- something to remember him by, and to remember the day you got to put your friends in their places. 

The Ferris wheel is lackluster, but a necessary component for an amusement park trip to be complete. He buys a thing of popcorn and you spend the slow trip to the top and back down throwing kernels over the side at unsuspecting guests, and trying to coax a couple weird birds to eat out of your hand before one of them snagged the whole bag and dumped it on the crowd below.

When you eventually tire of rides, he takes you back down the strip to play arcade games. To his chagrin, he’s fucking awful; no amount of hypnotism has any effect on his ability to throw a couple rings over a goddamn bottle neck or blast water at a Lucifer-Duck target so he can win you the fat shark plush that dangles over your heads. Even worse, you’re scarily good with the water pistol, so solidly aimed at the center of the moving targets that the game vendor eyes you suspiciously when he reaches up to unclip the stuffed animal and hand it to you after the bell sounds to alert passersby that you’ve won.

A few feet away from the booth, you turn and shove the shark into his arms, trailing your fingers through the soft fur that covers it. “It’s customary to win the prize for your date, right?” You ask, and flush from your hairline to the neck of your shirt when he smiles wide and steps closer to you.

“Is that what this is now, sugar?” He says quietly, and the noise of the park fades away as he focuses on the way your breath catches at his proximity. “A date?”

And Satan, he has to admire how you straighten your shoulders instead of backing down. “It could be,” you tell him, and step away, removing your hands from the shark when something catches your eye. “It depends on how it ends.” And the shark joins you at the next couple of failed games, until you lead him to the final attraction, a huge, heart-shaped door under a sign that says ‘The Tunnel of Lust,’ with a caricature image of Osmodeus in the corner.

He’s a little nervous about the water that splashes at the sides of the boat as you step in together, but the sides are high enough that he thinks he’ll be okay. And he’s not ready to end your time together, if he’s being honest. He had initially just wanted to cheer you up, he thinks, as the boat starts moving and terrible romantic poetry starts playing over the speakers, animatronic cherubs dropping from the ceiling and shooting arrows on strings towards the walls before winding them back up to their bows.

Then the boat hits the darkest part of the tunnel and he looks at you, illuminated only by the glow of his screen as everything else fades away, and he thinks you look beautiful. A happy smile on your lips that meets your eyes, unlike earlier, and your shoulders are relaxed and you just look… pleased to be with him, in a way that few people ever really were.

He opens his mouth to speak, but there aren’t any words that come forth that can adequately fill the silence- none that can explain how oddly fulfilling his time with you had been, healing something inside of him that he had thought he was over after all this time. How could he have known that in helping you give a satisfying ‘fuck you’  to your shitty friends that he would feel this sense of relief? Of satisfaction?

You tilt your head in wonder as he stares at you and he slides closer, removing the shark from his lap to place it on the bench next to him. He lets a hand come up to card gently into your hair, and you suck in a breath but don’t pull away as he leans in, breath ghosting across his screen as your lips part-

Music fills the tunnel- not the cheesy, romantic shit that was playing through the ride, but the EDM ringtone he had set for his assistant that he had left back at Vee Tower when he came out here today. He’s tempted to ignore it, but you’ve already seen the call flash across his screen and you’re pulling away from him, putting a couple inches between your bodies as his hand falls limply from where he had been holding you.

“Go ahead,” you whisper, “it seems important,” and he sighs and turns away to answer.

“What do you want?”

“I’m sorry, sir, you know I wouldn’t call if it wasn’t an emergency- but the Lu Lu World team called and said you had never arrived for the meeting. You’re twenty minutes late.”

Fuck. He had completely forgotten about the meeting in favor of spending time with you- he hadn’t even done any of the surveillance he had planned on doing while you went around to the different rides, played arcade games, gave him that sweet fucking smile. He should have set an alarm or something to remind himself of his goddamn obligations today, instead of letting himself get swept up in some impromptu date with a random sinner because they reminded him a little too much of himself.

“Mister Vox, sir?”

“Chill the fuck out, okay? Tell them they’re lucky I’m even still coming after the shit they pulled today and I’ll get there when I get there. Give me, uhhhh…” He wasn’t actually sure how much longer this ride would be but he didn’t imagine the park runners would make something called the Tunnel of Lust too long of a ride and risk people making good on the name. “Ten minutes, tops.”

His assistant starts to agree as Vox ends the call, and when he looks back over to you you’re watching the decor of the ride pass in silence. Smiling still, but you’ve reverted back to how you were earlier- it didn’t light up your face the same way, more polite than anything else, and he longed for the comfortable silence and contentment of a few mere minutes before. He thought about apologizing, but he wasn’t really sure for what, exactly- fulfilling his goal of staying with you until his meeting? Taking you on rides and to games on his dime? Not kissing you in a dark tunnel as a virtual stranger?

He let the silence reign until the ride was over a few minutes later, grabbing his shark by the fin with one hand and offering the other to you to help you out of the boat, walking behind you as you stepped back out into the crowded day.

“I apologize-”

“I’m so sorry-”

You both try to speak at the same time, and the blank looks you give each other when you stop talking at the same time breaks the awkward silence like glass, your laughter once again gracing his audio processors. “I was going to say, I’m sorry for making you late to your meeting,” you offer, your smile a little disappointed, and he waves the words away.

“Not at all! I  was going to apologize for having to cut our time so short- if we’re being honest,” he adds quietly, “I would much rather spend the rest of the day with you than go to this meeting. I’ve had a great time.” 

He would probably never see you again, he realized, and that makes him feel something he doesn’t want to look at too closely right now. If he offered you his number and you declined he would look like a fool, and he wasn’t in a position where he was offering anyone that kind of power over him. He had the photos from the coasters in his pocket, but if he gave them to you and you left then what would he have to memorialize the day?

“I did too! Not bad, for a date I didn’t plan on having today.”

He chuckles. “Still a date then, despite that ending?” He lets you reach out to run your fingers through the soft fur of the stuffed shark again.

You look up at him through lowered lashes, suddenly shy and reaching for his spare hand to pull him towards you. “We’ve still got a few minutes left,” you say quietly, and he bends low and closes his eyes as you bring your lips to meet his.

It's too soft, too sweet, and over too soon. You pull back with a smile, unaware how badly he wants more, and gesture to the shark as you step back. “Gotta say, I think I’ll miss this little guy,” you quip, and Vox is confused about the sudden change of topic until you add, “I know I said I was winning it for you, but I don’t suppose you'd be willing to have joint custody?”

His smile is soft and fond, and he pushes the shark into your arms. “Tell you what- you take him for now. Let me have someone take you home- and then I’ll stop by in a couple days and we can figure out the logistics of that.”

“I would like that.” You press another kiss to his screen, fleeting and soft, and squeeze the shark to your chest. “Thank you, since I haven’t actually said that yet. I hope to see you soon.”

Then you’re walking away from him, and the photos sit heavy in his suit pocket as he dials his assistant while he walks to the main building for his meeting. His assistant knows better than to ask why Vox is ordering him to save your address in his cloud contacts, and after receiving the ping that it's secure in his system he straightens his bowtie. With trained professionalism he rolls his shoulders and tucks the softness that he’d been harboring for the day away for now, his smile turning predatory as he enters the meeting room. 

Vox loved the scent of opportunity - personal and professional alike - but there was business to be taken care of first. The irritation from earlier still lingered at the staff’s disregard for his time, and while you had been a pleasant distraction he wouldn’t let that affect his negotiation now. The stuffed shark he had sent with you hadn't just been a perfect ruse to see you again- it reminded him that there was blood in the water.

[hellsgreatestevents]

The Gates of Hell have been opened

Hello sinners, winners and everyone in between!

As Thursday begins to wind down and we start to prepare to welcome Friday, we at Hells Greatest Events are now opening the doors to the Event Server in preparation for Saturday’s event!

Come to discuss ideas on how to participate, watch art/writing streams, share favorite pieces created throughout the event - or just have fun and hang out!

Click here to join the server - We are awaiting you!