#human alastor smut

[tune-on-in-folks]

Day 19! I think this one is a little sweet. A bit short and fast, but sweet. Human Alastor for the win!

Tags/Warnings: Phone sex, masturbation, mutual masturbation, discussion of murder, murderous intent, murderous ideation, fem!reader, abuse mention, reader's husband is abusive. Word Count: 1,735

When Alastor first met you it wasn't by accident, nor coincidence. Instead it was due to his meticulous planning. You were married to a very affluent man. A man who used his wealth for anything but good. His reputation had preceded him, and Alastor was certain that anything and anyone that man associated himself with, was also tainted. Which is what he had thought of you and was precisely the reason he had orchestrated your ‘fateful’ meeting at Mimzy's establishment.

Initially he had approached you in an attempt to get closer to your husband, and if he had to kill you too, what was the harm? But one conversation with you had turned into several, and months later he found himself no closer to killing your husband.

Alastor had been correct in his assumption that by association, you were tainted by your husband. But for all the reasons he hadn't expected. The first time he noticed the bruises he nearly flew into a blind rage. And you had the audacity to laugh it off, as though the abuse you were enduring at his hands, was not worth any fuss. As though your well-being was nothing more than an afterthought, something to be swept aside for everyone else's. It was on that day Alastor became increasingly impatient to kill your husband. He had it all planned out; from the time, to what he would do to make your husband suffer a fate worse than death for hours on end, before extinguishing his pathetic existence.

But you were a distraction.

That's what Alastor ultimately decided you were. A beautiful, wonderful, annoying distraction. You with your beautiful smile, your captivating laugh. Your wondrous eyes, your…he could go on. Get lost in everything that was intrinsically you. And for the past several months he had. He had allowed himself to grow fond of you. He held a deep seated affection for you. He craved you in ways he had never craved another soul before. What he felt for you was raw and vast. It left him feeling split open, as though your very presence had taken an axe to his chest, carving a home there. A place for you alone. It was only natural that the budding relationship between you both blossomed into something more, something deeper. Something sinful. 

It had started with a stolen kiss one night outside of Mimzy's establishment. Upon seeing the time you had pulled him down, pressed a kiss against his lips, and called out a goodbye as you rushed away. He had been left stunned, his fingers brushing against his lips as he watched you run. How he wished he could have given chase. That kiss had spawned the first instances of longing for you. He wanted more, craved it. From that night it spiralled. Soft smiles and lingering touches, small kisses. You were driving him insane, he was certain of it. Until one night he cornered you and took you right up against the wall in an alley. He had been consumed by lust and desire, wanting nothing more than to have you. All of you. You were a thrill unlike any other. Being intimate with you gave him a high better than he had ever known. Not even watching the life drain from someone's eyes compared to how it felt to be with you. To kiss you, to hold you, to fuck you. You were intoxicating.

You were a damned distraction.

Distracting him from what he truly wanted. And that was for your husband to be dead, killed by his hand.

The ringing of his phone snaps Alastor out of his thoughts, his hands tighten around the book he's holding. With a sigh he picks the phone up from the receiver, setting his book aside.

“Hartfelt residence.” He answers smoothly, smiling with false brightness.

“Hello, my love.” You greet him softly, “are you alone?”

His smile softens and he leans back in his chair. “Hello, my dear… What are you doing calling me at this hour? I thought you and your…darling husband had a party.”

You chuckle at the contempt in his voice. “Yeah, well my ‘darling husband' as you put it, is currently fucking his mistress.”

Alastor's hand tightens around the phone in anger, but you continue on, not letting him get a word in.

“So while he's off having fun, I thought I might as well have some too.”

He can hear the amusement in your voice. As though your husband actively cheating on you wasn't such an insult. How you remained so bright despite that man, he'd never know. 

“Some fun?” He asks, wanting nothing more than to snuff out the life of your blasted husband.

“With you, Alastor. Over the phone.”

He laughs softly, “my dear, what fun could we possibly get up to over the phone?”

Your sigh filters over the phone, and he can hear the pout in your voice. “Well I can’t have you in person right now, so can’t I just pleasure myself while listening to your voice?”

He laughs again, caught off guard by your candidness. “And are you, my dear? Pleasuring yourself, that is.”

You flush, “Well I haven’t started! I was…asking. I wanted to make sure it was okay with you, if we did that, if we do that.”

He leans further back in his chair, his voice tinged with amusement. “It’s perfectly fine, my dear... Do you often sneak away to finger yourself?”

You snort, smiling, “Only when I know I can moan your name.”

He can feel his cock twitch in his pants, a sensation that he had slowly grown accustomed to when it came to you. You made his body respond in ways he once found a nuisance, now he welcomed it.

“I think it’s only fair, little doe, if I get to touch myself too.” He decides, hearing your breath hitch.

He can imagine you in a room someplace, your skirts bunched around your hips as your hand creeps towards your centre. He hears a small whimper from you and he wonders how exactly you’re touching yourself.

“Please.” You breathe out, your voice shaky. “I want to hear you too, Al. I want to know that you’re getting as much pleasure out of this as I am.”

He reaches for the clasp of his pants, working it undone. In a moment he’s freed his rapidly hardening cock. He closes his hand around it, pulling a groan from the back of his throat.

“Oh..” He moans, letting his head fall back as he slowly pumps his length. “The sinful things you make me do, my dear.”

You giggle, working your fingers faster, “Ah, but you do them for me.”

He chuckles, the sound deep within his chest, sending shivers down your spine. Your walls clench at the sound. You adored his laugh and the things it made you feel.

“Hah, I do them because I adore you.” He breathes out, his hand moving faster.

He can hear the muffled sounds of you pleasuring yourself, your whimpers and moans growing louder. His own breathing is laboured, the sound of him fisting his cock carrying back over the phone to you.

“I wish..” You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to keep quiet, “that I was married to you, Alastor. I hate him.”

His hand tightens around the phone again at your words, an ache settling in his chest. You occasionally said things like that. Things that made it feel as though you’d taken one of his knives and stabbed him right in the heart.

“Sweetheart…” He murmurs, clenching his jaw in anger at the thought of your husband. “Think of me, not him.”

You whimper, so close to your edge already. “I always think of you..oh fuck, I’m so close. Fuck, Alastor!”

He tightens his hand around his cock, his pace quickening as you moan his name. He hates how low and quiet your moans are. He knows that you’re attempting to stay quiet, keeping your voice down to stop your husband from finding out. It angers him. He wishes he was there, fucking you into your martial bed, drawing out all the sounds he loved to hear from you. He wishes he was there, forcing you to be louder and louder, as he took you hard and fast.

“Keep going,” He urges over the phone, “I want to hear you cum for me.”

“Fuck..” You breathe out, focusing on your pleasure, focusing on Alastor’s soft grunts over the phone.

He wished he could kill your husband tonight. Lure him out with a false sense of trust only to shatter it. Oh, he’d take great pleasure in drawing out the man’s death. Of ensuring that he felt all the pain he had caused you and more. Alastor’s breath hitches as he imagines how your husband would scream, how he’d try to get away, only to find that he couldn’t escape. Alastor imagined that fear in your husband’s eyes, imagined watching the life dim from them. He groans, his release growing nearer

“Ah, fffuck, Al-lastor!” You cry out, a bit too loudly for your own liking, as you cum around your fingers, your body shaking with the effort of your release.

He’s drawn out of his fantasy by your voice, a shiver running through his body as you moan his name.

“There we go.” He praises. “So good for me, sweetheart… Fuck-”

His cock twitches as his orgasm washes over him with surprising force. Hot ropes of cum splatter his hand and slacks, but he can’t find himself to care about the mess at the moment.

He takes a moment to catch his breath, wiping his hand with a handkerchief. “Are you still there, my doe?”

“Still here.” You say softly, having let your skirts fall back into place. “Still missing you.”

He smiles, glad you hadn’t disappeared on him just yet. “What would you say, if I told you I could get your husband to leave? Permanently.”

He can hear the smile in your voice as you reply without missing a beat. “I’d say I’d marry you.”

He chuckles softly, his smile widening. That was all the permission he needed. He was going to kill your husband, make sure he never touched you ever again. No more waiting. No more rushed calls, or stolen kisses, no more longing. It would just be you and him.

He couldn’t wait.

@pumppkinlynn I promised to tag you in this one! So here it is.

[minkdelovely]

THIS WAS… SO FUCKING EROTIC AND STEAMY. I KNEW SAVING IT FOR SUNDAY MORNING WAS THE CORRECT CHOICE 😮‍💨❤️‍🔥 THANK YOU FRAU — WHAT A FUCKING TREAT 🥲🙏🏻❤️‍🔥

I tried my hands on an Human!Alastor fic ;> It's still very different to write for Human Al, but I hope y'all like it ;> Special thanks to @hurthermore for beta-reading and encouraging me <3 This one's for you, love! !! NSFW - Heavy Smut Ahead, Minors DNI - 6k words !!

„You need technical assistance, sir?“

Alastor looked up from the papers on his desk, adjusting his glasses that slipped down the bridge of his nose. He didn't expect her to come in this late, or at all, not while he was still at the station. The curious little sound engineer that had started half a year ago was standing at his office entrance, hands in the pockets of her outrageous trousers. She was tiny, her small figure barely filled the door frame, even with her bulky tool bag that hung from her shoulders. Alastor leaned back in his seat, folding his hands, focusing his tired gaze on her defensive expression.

She was a novelty, that one. Not the first woman working at the station of course, but the first to assert herself in the male-dominated field of technical engineering. Her male colleagues saw the spunky, brass girl as a joke, either ignoring her or trying (very amateurishly) to bed her – both which didn't faze her at all meeting both scenarios with the same contemptuous indifference. The women – secretaries, errand girls and concierges – were much more organized and refined in their bullying. Shortly after her arrival rumors had already spread, one more abstruse than the other, and they had collectively decided to pretend the engineer didn't exist in their periphery. More than once he witnessed her talking to his own secretary Ruth, just to be left standing while Ruth got up and walked out with the other girls to lunch in the middle of her sentence.

The little engineer took it all in stride, though. Never complained, never became outright disrespect- or revengeful. Gradually, her expressions steeled, her answers shortened and her work hours shifted to evenings or nights, with less people to run into.

Alastor had been fascinated by her the moment they first met. He had just started his usual 'Saturday Golden Hour', his favorite and most popular segment to host, broadcasting the newest releases of jazz and swing in the evening, just before sundown. Not even ten minutes in, right after he started playing Bing Crosby's new song 'Dancing in the Dark', listeners started calling the station by the handful, complaining about horrific feedback's and sudden blackouts. While Alastor watched Rufus Ellis, the head of the tech team, frantically run around, yelling at his workers, the little engineer had wordlessly grabbed a few tools and vanished. Five minutes later, his broadcast went back to working perfectly, sound crisp and quality flawless once again. She had returned, put back the tools from where she had taken them, and when Ellis – flabbergasted – asked her what she had done, she had calmly explained that she went up on the roof to check the transmitters connected to the radio tower and fixed a broken generator that had malfunctioned due to some doves nesting in it.

No one thanked or even acknowledged her, they just shrugged and went back to business as usual. But Alastor didn't forget, and from this day he was determined to find out more about this extraordinary girl. She reminded him of his own struggle as the exception to the rule – it was a well-kept secret throughout the station exactly what Alastor looked like and who he was. That was the only reason he was able to do what he felt was born to, a cruel, unfair compromise. So, he felt an unusual sympathy for her, in addition to just his natural curiosity for oddities. However, he didn't expect her to be so elusive.

Whenever he tried to engage her in a conversation, she gave short, finite responses, avoided his eyes and hurried to get away from him, sometimes even bordering on rudeness in her haste to flee from him. Alastor was, to be frank, perplexed - his charm usually drew in the ladies unwantedly. That it had failed him now, with the little engineer, when he welcomed it for a change? Peculiar. To a degree, it angered him, but it also awakened his hunting instinct, just not the one he was used to.

“I'm afraid so, dear.”, Alastor smiled, standing up. He rounded his desk, hands behind his back, and went to her side, looking down a t her. Granted, he was a tall man, but next to her, he felt almost gigantic, which satisfied him in a strange way. “I noticed my microphone was acting up today, and would like you to take a look at it, if you don't mind. Before it decides to give up on me mid-broadcast.”

“That's my job, sir.”, she just answered, eyes intensely staring at the carpet. Alastor's eyebrow twitched in slight aggravation. But he lead her to his booth, unlocking it to let her in. She went straight to his seat, dropping her tool bag next to it and started to pull his microphone to her to inspect it. He quietly closed the door, locking it discreetly – just as a precaution so she couldn't flee him again so easily, now that he finally had her in his vicinity.

Alastor walked over to her, leaning over her shoulder to watch her carefully taking the device apart. She startled when she saw him out of the corner of her eyes. “It may take a while, sir.”, she mumbled, an obvious attempt to make him leave. Alastor laughed. “I've got nowhere to be, dear, take your time.”, he said with a hint of mischievous delight. He heard her scoff, turning back to her work. There was a prolonged silence, her fiercely ignoring Alastor's quiet, content humming while her fingers picked apart and put together parts and cables. He used the time to analyze her appearance – her hair was smooth but more unkempt than for a girl her age – how old must she be? Twenty, maybe Twenty-one? Vanity surely wasn't a flaw of hers, she didn't wear much make-up and Alastor saw various faint, light scars on her arms and hands, little bookmarks of mishaps and failures of her chosen career – the sight of them sent a sick shiver down his spine. Given his... hobbies, he found twisted appeal in scarred skin, finding beauty in those white, shimmering lines where blood once dripped from. He roamed her supple, curved body – unlike the recent fad of skinny, androgynous frames she was built womanly, round and fleshy... how beautiful could he paint her with white streaks on this vast canvas, add some masterpieces of his own to the collection?

“Alright.”, she pulled him out of his thoughts, mounting the microphone back on it's flexible stand. “A few cables were starting to corrode, I've replaced them, it should work fine now.” Alastor grinned down at her, putting one of his hands on her shoulder. The first real contact. “What an efficient engineer you are, dear. Always coming to my rescue, I have yet to show my gratitude.” She didn't look up, didn't even acknowledge that he said something to her, just packing up the various things she had spread out for the repair. Now that was just rude.

“Hello? Is this thing on?”, Alastor strained himself to sound lighthearted as he knocked two times on her head, feeling the shivers of impatience rising. The engineer closed her eyes and took a deep breath in, shifting in his chair with furrowed brows. “I'm getting paid to do my job. I don't need anything else.” She attempted to stand up, but his hand, still resting on her shoulder, holds her in place. “If that's all, sir?”

“Now now, not to hasty. I'd think it's unlike you to leave work halfway done. Normally you are quite thorough, aren't you?” Alastor cooed, tilting his head at her. “My work is done.” she said, her voice now intense and a faint tint of red on her cheek and neck. My, there's the little ferocity he thought she'd lost at the job. “Why we haven't tested the thing, dear – How can I be sure it works properly?”

“Because I know what I'm doing.” She looked outright offended at the implied possibility that she failed the task he asked of her. He had to chuckle, such a childish reaction to something so innocent. Maybe it was because implications like these grated her thick skin, but Alastor had no problem with being the straw that breaks that camel's back. He was skilled in putting people back in their place, and with her, it would be much more entertaining and much less fatal than with his other... acquaintances. He decided to tickle this sleeping dragon just a bit more, with a funny little idea in mind.

“No one is infallible – especially when they are so young. No fault in that, dear, but I'd like to be sure.” Alastor swiftly grabbed her wrist, pulling her up to stand. Putting up no resistance, most likely because of sheer perplexity, he twirled her almost like in a dance, side-stepping to his chair, and sat down, pulling her onto his lap, locking her there by an arm wrapped around her waist. The look on her face was worth it's weight in gold – eyes wide, mouth agape in stunned shock, and tips of the ears reddened. Her hands grappled the armrests so forcefully her knuckles were as white as the scars on her arms, and within seconds of regaining her active conscience she squirmed against his body. “What... that's so... sir, please let me g...” “There you go, dear.”, Alastor ignored her babbling, using his free hand to put the headphones on her. Her pulse under her thin, clear skin drummed faster against him, it's heat felt like it could boil his own blood.

He grabbed his own microphone, swinging it up between their faces and leaned forward, chin resting on her shoulder and the grille brushing his lower lip. She stared, dumbstruck, a bead of sweat forming on her forehead. He chuckled against her cheek, leaning his mouth to the mic as he pushed the switch on the control panel up, and his rich, sultry baritone echoed in her headphones.

"How about it, darling, do you hear me?"

She breathed deeply, gulping, and her heart sped up even more. Alastor smiled devilishly against her soft skin, delighted and in awe by how far he got her worked up as she just nodded sharply.

"No soundrops, feedback or small interferences?", he hummed, his voice dripping sweet honey. She took a moment to answer. "N-no... everything seems alright."

"Lovely." He almost whispered, but she heard it crystal clear through the headphones. He let a low sigh and took off his glasses with one hand, slowly, teasingly, his nose tracing over her neck, as if it was coincidental, as if he'd never ever do such a thing intentionally, putting the accessory on the table next to him, eyes locking on the hazel ones of hers mirrored in them. "Although I wonder..." He pushed the mic nearer to her mouth, seeing a tremble running over her body. "... if the higher pitches might be a problem... You wouldn't mind help with that, would you?"

She stiffened up, barely daring to breathe, her skin erupting into goose flesh underneath his lips, he felt the impulse to press them against her, lick the salt and nervousness from it.

"Sir, I-I can't.."

He chuckled at her strained, whispering voice. How beautiful was her distress, so rich, so fragrant, almost strong enough for him to savor its essence without even needing to touch her.

"Then, may I assist you?", Alastor felt himself giddy with impish delight, his hands slowly trailing upwards from her waist to her bust, cupping her gently through the thin fabric. This made her wriggle again, a small, high pitched squeak leaving her lips that his microphone just amplified in glorious reverberations. Alastor chuckled darkly as she froze, neck burning red in deep embarrassment from the sound she heard from the headphones.

"Now we're talking. A wonderful first try. But let's see what else we can get out of you, darling. After all, we want to be thorough."

His hands palmed and kneaded the supple flesh through the cotton, feeling her squirm and tremble and the warmth of her bosom, imagining the blood rushing through her heart. How exquisite was she?

He could hear a small whimper as her head slightly lowered. Was she closing her eyes? He imagined it so. Imagined she'd shut her pretty eyes closed, furrow her brows in conflict as her legs pressed against each other in fruitless desperation. Her hands tightened on the armrest.

"You are so very quiet, dear. Why don't you relax and turn the volume up for me?"

With one of his hands he quickly loosened the two buttons that kept her blouse close and tugged at the collar to widen the neck hole, then slid under her brassier and gripped one breast with a tight squeeze. Alastor caught his breath as he realized just how sensitive and sweet the freckled skin under his fingertips was. Soft. Warm. So fragile... He would never have imagined this was hiding under her daily uniform, her sagging shoulders and loose jacket hiding those lovely features. Alastor felt a delightful spark crackle in his head and shoot up the nerves of his spine. His hunting instinct pulsed under the mask. But... with a slight delay, Alastor recognized it as a different type of hunger... one of the carnal and more depraved kind. Another novelty for him.

Alastor suddenly wondered what her lips tasted like, how soft and warm would they feel on his, her teeth biting, her tongue teasing him. How many ways could he break her - and could he do it quickly, with his bare hands, with his words alone maybe, or with his undisciplined arousal pushing against her rear-end through the fabric of his trousers? How often did she think of him? How did she think of him? Did she fear him, or dislike him even? He could hear her breathing hasten as he was trying to compose himself.

There was the devil's urge to just let himself go. To shove the equipment aside and tear those outrageously inadequate clothes away from her flesh, run his hands over the skin he didn't get to see yet, trace and map those scars of hers until they fade underneath his fingers. Mark her more thoroughly than any machine mishap ever could. Make her cry, moan, beg and whine under him until there was nothing left in her and this novel hunger was satisfied.

A wonderfully loud moan escaped her, a sweet, silky, vibrato sound of passion, that went right from Alastor's chest into his pelvis. She opened her eyes wide, pressing her hand firmly over her mouth, mortified at her own pleasure.

Oh, Alastor thought to himself, smiling mischievously as the shock of lustful rapture coursed through him, how easy it was for him to undo her. So unexplored, so fresh... "Do you wish to stop, darling?", he asked with a teasing pinch of her hardened nipple, which made her cry out and her other hand fly up and cover her mouth, too. She shook her head, her cheeks flushed and hot, eyes hazed with confused pleasure. He rubbed and teased the nipple gently in his palm, holding her close, making her struggle in defiant silence. The only sound was his gentle, patient humming.

But oh, she was breaking, crumbling like a stale beignet, and the noises his hand bullied out of her turned from hushed whimpers to barely muffled groans and cries for him, long and wanting 'Sir's and 'Oh's. She was melting under his palm. He grinned wickedly, his lower body hard and wanting against her as he put the microphone to his own lips again and spoke into it.

"Say it with your words, dear, should I stop? Or is it that you can't hear me?"

"Y-yes! I mean... No sir... d-don't... stop." There was a suppressed crack in her voice, and Alastor sighed with lust at her gasping affirmation, grinding against her plushy backside. He has found it amusing to push her limits, break through her thick skin and riddle her, like an ice pick cracking open a glacier. And now it would shatter her so gorgeously. "It's Alastor, darling." He whispered into the microphone with a dragging, sultry voice, his hand retreating from her breast, only to snake it's way to the hem of her pants. Her legs twitched, pushing together to futilely protect her modesty, but her body eagerly arched in a way that gave such easy way for his fingers to slip under the garments, feel and stroke the short, coarse hair, following it's trail, only to meet soft, silken and slippery wetness. A startled gasp escaped her and the only reason she didn't leap up was because Alastor kept his firm grip on her waist, pulling her tight against his throbbing erection. Her head fell back onto his shoulder, exposing her delicate throat as she whimpered, hands flying from her mouth to the armrests again, gripping so hard her fingernails dug into the hard wooden surface.

He tried to restrain himself but couldn't, he testily bit into the thin, soft flesh of her neck as his fingers found their way into her entrance and dipped deep in, coating his palm in generous wetness and crooking, exploring carefully, but with a patience even he was surprised at, eyes fixated on the taut fabric as he thrust into her in tandem with the waves her body undulated at the new sensation, her sweet taste on his tongue.

"S-Sir, please...", she groaned against his hand that still remained pressed over her lips, as if it could suppress the bliss Alastor wrought her into. He withdrew his hand for a moment, fingers wet, glistening and slick, as she was breathless, but she couldn't hide how her hips were chasing his retreating touch. He leaned into the microphone, barely lifting his mouth from her neck.

"Say my name, and I shall listen, little engineer."

She hesitated for just a heartbeat, before opening her eyes, hazily staring at the ceiling as Alastor patiently waited, his fingers drawing idle circles around the sweet pearl on her outer folds. She pressed her lips together for a second, seemingly mentally preparing herself, and then opened her mouth, to give in, to submit to him.

"...A-Alastor, please..."

"I like the sound of my name from your lips, darling." He almost purred in return and resumed his movements with added vigor and focus. He put down his head on her shoulder, nuzzling into the juncture of her throat, watching her reaction and every detail of how his hand worked her over with the rhythmic hump of his hips, forcing him to breathe harshly as he was starting to be deprived of blood. He had barely noticed it, how incredibly erotic and sinful this whole thing felt not just for her, but for him, too. Partly of course, because of the chase, the coaxing, the hunt to have her call and writhe for only him, not for any of these imbeciles that tried to get their pick with her, his ears pricked and eager to savor her wanton sounds... A surprising need to be connected, closer to her than anyone ever could be in her whole life, and it made him even giddy to know no man had touched her like he was doing now, taking her purity with ease and glee.

But there was another part, something he thought slumbered too deep within him to be ever awoken, a roaring fire in his guts as the alluring, delicious scent of her arousal assaulted him like a siren's song, lulling, cajoling him with sensual desires to drown in them, to abandon all else and indulge, to completely give in and surrender. It wasn't tactical, calculating or strategic, but wild and primal and primitive, and not at all as painful or awkward to him as he had always thought it'd be.

What a revelation a woman's body could be.

He almost missed her coming into his eagerly working hand - a sudden, full-body twitch that went through her spine, a whine in her voice that ended in a choked sound as her orgasm claimed her and washed her away in the torrent of rapture - eyes going wide as the air escaped her in a desperate cry, hands gripping his thigh and the chair's armrest so hard the nails left little scratches in the wood. He barely had time to notice it before her climax hit him like a truck - the convulsing of her inner walls, gripping and spasming tightly around his fingers as he slowed and stroke out her high.

This moment was pure madness in his veins - his head foggy and airy, like a drug, like a vicious new addiction he would do almost anything for. Her body went slack against him, and the only thing that held her upright was Alastor's arm still securely around her, still keeping her pressed onto his hard length, still pulsing for some release of his own. Alastor wanted more, already was plotting what his hands could be doing to her body next as she came down from her high and back to earth, the heat leaving her body slowly as the soundproofed air trapped within the booth hung heavy with her hot breath and the smell of her passion.

The first movement of hers, after having come undone so beautifully for and on him, was to lift up the headphones.

"Well then, little engineer.", he huffed into her ear, laughing with barely hidden delight. "What is your final assessment?"

"Your microphone works perfectly. J-just like I said it would." She was determined, if nothing else. And unbearably cute when she was defiant. Alastor simply adored a fiery spirit, even as he was already thirsting for more. He looked up, her sharp tone prickling his pride. He shot her a glare from the corner of his eyes, his usually calm smile tugging upward in a half smirk as she avoided his eyes. Oh, was she starting to have second thoughts about her tone towards him?

"I always admired your work ethics and knowledge, my dear, even though you eluded my attempts to give you your well-deserved recognition." The hand not occupied in playing with her still moist, delicate flesh lifted the arm that she had still buried in his thigh, brushing his fingers lightly over her knuckles as he brought it to his lips. She went still as a stone under his fingertips. "I asked myself, what would be the reason you ignored and evaded me for so long? Do you dislike me that much, little engineering girl?"

"No." It took her a moment, a little quiver in her voice, but it seemed like this was the first time in a long while that her answer was as blunt and truthful. He sighed contentedly, planting a soft kiss on her hand. "Quite the contrary, in fact."

His eyes snapped to her, narrowed. She still refused to look at him, still tense and obviously embarrassed, her free hand trembling on her lap. So it hadn't been animosity that made her behave so coldly towards him, not aversion that made her flee his presence and not prejudice that made her avoid their encounters but...

"Ah." Alastor chuckled softly at her awkward behavior, grinning delightedly at the revelation. "Of course."

Shyness was a curious thing, he thought, often misinterpreted as either prude modesty or cold antipathy. And it seemed Alastor had fallen for the latter interpretation - he would've been miffed at the thought if it hadn't brought her here, into his lap, and into his hands - alas, better late than never, he guessed. And there was still something to take care of.

"Well, since you're not running from me now..." His hand left hers and joined his other one in pulling the belt of her pants open, gently tugging on the metal buckle until the strap slipped free. "Let me finally show my gratitude in kind, for the lovely engineer and her marvelous work."

He loosened his tight grip on her, enough so that he could turn her to face him - for once, she glanced at him from under her lashes, not only out of bashfulness now - but he thought he saw something like cautious anticipation there, too. His grin became even wider as she kept his gaze, even if barely. A last stubborn act of shy rebellion - in another situation it would have enraged Alastor, but now, he was delightfully fascinated and challenged by her stubborn nature, by the unpredictability of her reactions even now, as she herself hooked her fingers under the hem of her pants and pushed them down over her shapely hips.

The last barrier of decency fell between them, revealing the full picture before him - there was her reddened face framed by cascading locks, eyes lowered in embarrassed defeat; Her stiffened nipples prominent on her perky, tight breasts; The damp patch of dark pubic hair that barely hid her glistening privates and the plush roundness of her thighs. And the whole body covered in tiny, white streaks, healed cuts and burns scattered in between her freckles. Oh, she would be delightful to ruin over and over again.

He took a step towards her, his hands immediately moving to her hip, exploring, caressing the soft flesh. This time, she did not move away from his touch and watched him with big, wide-blown eyes, full of expectation and a new type of uncertainty as he lifted her up onto the main control panel. He discarded of his jacket, the cloth too heavy and hot for him now, and threw it aside carelessly, leaving his bow tie hanging loosely around his neck as he went back to the woman, his little prey. Her knees parted slightly when his body wedged between them, an inviting gesture from her, though Alastor suspected she herself didn't notice. He grinned darkly, lifting her chin up by a finger, before bending over and planting a firm but restrained kiss on her lips, feeling his own skin crawl in electric stimulation, eager to finally taste her. His hands made quick work of his slacks, freeing his almost painfully erect member with a pleased sigh. From the way she gasped and her eyes widened, he could easily deduct that she had less to no experience whatsoever.

Oh, what a fortune. Alastor relished the thought of claiming precious, well kept treasures, his breath quickened as he broke from the kiss, hands running over her heated skin in swift, soothing motions, goosebumps trailing in their wake as he felt her shudder with hesitant desire beneath him. Oh, this would be fun.

"Let's be sure you'll hear my message loud and clear, this time, hm?"

He took her mouth again before she could protest, discreetly angling the microphone down with one hand just near enough where she would soon enough be connected to him. With a sly grin, he lined himself up to her waiting entrance and slowly pushed in. She stiffened at the unfamiliar invasion, a mewl muffled against his lips and hands in his shirt, and he stilled, enjoying the way her body reflexively tightened and squeezed around him as she tried to cope with the sensation of him stretching her.

She gasped as her chest heaved from the feeling, her walls convulsing around him like a vice. He allowed a low groan to escape him, she felt so gloriously tight and hot he had trouble keeping his composure, hands twitching to rut into her and just plow through.

"Ready for the final test, darling?"

"T-test...?"

He didn't bother to give her an answer as he started to move. In and out, with slow and drawn out movements, keeping his thrusts shallow at first, deep and precise enough to press against her innermost point and making her moan helplessly. The wet sounds of their coupling reached his ears, coupled with her wanton cries, an obscene and enchanting noise he was waiting for. With a mischievous smile, he picked up the headphones from where she had put them down, lifting it to one of her ears. Her face flushed in such lovely shades of red when the squelching echoes of what the mic picked up reached her ears, amplified and oh-so-clear thanks to her own handiwork.

He let out a guttural chuckle as he leaned into her, still thrusting slowly, her head falling on his shoulder and hanging onto his shirt for dear life, knuckles white as she could hear all the sweet sounds their bodies made and how they connected, each inch of her body singing praises for only him, for his size and rhythm. He could tell the moment her walls began to relax around him, squeezing the blood into his member as she took him in again and again, accepting it's size wholeheartedly with greedy eagerness.

"Such a talented woman.", he praised into her free ear, sighing at the delicious way her slick, swollen lips slid over his length, her thighs twitching against his with every single thrust and every word that fell from his lips. "Just listen to the fruits of your impeccable labor, dearest. Almost wasted in a place like this."

A moan, shaky and delirious, a shuddering sob for him, so high and flustered she sounded almost pained escaped her throat. She pressed against him and with a jolt that reverberated through her spine, convulsing so sweetly against him he almost came from the tremor that rushed through his cock. But it wasn't her peak. Alastor hadn't gotten his fill yet and he wouldn't stop now until it was both of their turns, but damn if he wasn't tempted.

He reached to the other ear to put the second headphone on her. Now her world had no escape, she could only listen, only hear every filthy wet noise of his slick slide, his ragged breathing and the beat of her own heart- a heavy, cacophonous staccato.

Her eyes were heavy-lidded, head clouded and flushed, looking up at him with rapt fascination. His own gaze met hers as his pace increased, suddenly snapping his hips with harsh precision, and his voice was low, carnal.

"But their loss is my gain, darling. Don't you ever forget that, now."

And his thoughts went to of those incompetent, thickheaded dunderheads who took their jobs, but were no where as skilled or invested as her, knowing full well they were inadequate and undeserving to get close to her, trying to touch what clearly should have been for him alone to do, and it sent a nasty spark of possessiveness through Alastor, igniting a furious hunger, a beast waking up within him and snarling with unbridled desire, to claim, to mark her as his. And nobody else's.

He grinned devilishly, a low rumble in his throat as a needy whine escaped his little engineer and he grabbed her waist tightly, digging his fingers into the fat there as he picked up speed and drilled into her with more intensity, savage, merciless and utterly ruthless, finally throwing all composure and rationality overboard to replace it with feral instinct and possessive desire. Her hands clutched him desperately, thighs tensing and pressing against his moving hips, her choked cries of his name were nothing else but heavenly and he was filled with lecherous obsession and greed - yes, he could get addicted to the sound of his name being screamed and moaned from her lips, her sweet, wet flesh fluttering around his throbbing length, the violent stuttering of her breath that just enticed and pleaded him to continue.

"Mine. My own, little, eager engineer." he hissed against the shell of her ear, headphones slipping from her, hips still pounding away at her heat with feverish pace and an undeniable pleasure coiling low and tightly within his pelvis. With every harsh thrust, every desperate, salacious cry, he pulled her deeper and deeper into sinful depravity, her head thrown back in bliss, the headphones slipping from her head as her nails scraped desperately over his clothed chest. The sharp bites of pain mixed with a sweet ache and tightening within Alastor, telltale signs of his climax nearing rapidly. "No more avoiding me, no more elusion or flight for you, understood? You are mine and mine alone."

Her toes curled as his words spurred her over the edge with him, her core spasming and quivering around him as her moans became ragged and desperate, jaw agape in rapture but no words found as she toppled into her orgasm, dragging and taking Alastor with her. The immense wave crashed into him and swept him along, and he growled in the sensational and exhilarating feeling and his head fell against her shoulder, with a growl ripping from his throat, low and guttural. His seed emptied in her with long, forceful spurts, her body tensing and relaxing as each twitch and jerk pushed his release deeper and deeper, the pleasure so acute, so sharp it was almost painful, until both their highs subsided and Alastor had to rest against her for a moment, their labored breaths the only noise that reached his ears.

Alastor sighed contentedly, his hand loosened it's grip and his fingertips gently traced over the angry, red lines they had left behind on her tanned skin of her waist, feeling her shivering underneath him. His lips pressed into the soft crook of her neck, placing a tender kiss on the flushed skin. He would have to do something about the bruising and marks... His eyes wandered up and he noticed that she was staring now, hazily and exhausted, her pupils still wide, lips bitten swollen and reddened, her cheeks and chest still painted pink with lingering arousal. The sight was so deliciously debauched and lewd, a smirk crept on his face.

"It seems that the equipment is indeed in perfect working order again, thanks to you, darling."

"...Yes, sir." she replied warily, her voice still breathless. Her usual demeanor returned, too embarrassed to look him in the eyes she tilted her head away from him. He chuckled, lifting her chin and capturing her lips once again, not much for hers but more for his own gain, and then moved off and out of her. He took a moment to savor the view - the red, swollen flesh, leaking his essence that pooled on the metal surface of his control panel he would work on in a few hours, and her thighs glistening in the faint orange light of the booth.

"Please, darling, from now on..." Alastor took a handkerchief from his breast pocket, wiping the mess of his hands and cleaning her with careful gentleness, her legs twitching weakly at the contact.

"...call me Alastor."

He hummed quietly and lifted her from the console, closing the buttons on her blouse again with fastidious efficiency after she slipped back into her pants. Then, with a few quick motions, Alastor picked up his jacket and fixed his own appearance, before helping her stand properly on her trembling feet.

"I trust we won't have any misunderstandings anymore?" He smiled at her, tilting his head slightly, a soft and yet challenging smile, his hand cupping her face and the thumb brushing her lower lip. Her cheeks grew warmer and redder again, her eyes flickering downwards, then back up, before she nodded silently. "Excellent."

Alastor put the headphones back on their rack, before taking his glasses, slipping them back on and reaching for the door handle, his other hand extended towards his little engineer in an inviting motion.

"Come along, my dear. Let me treat you to a nice cup of coffee, I find there's nothing better after a job well done."

She paused, her face going a shade darker and her lips pressing together. Then, after a heartbeat, she stepped next to him and through the door he opened for her. He could see the small smile that crept onto her lips as she hurriedly passed him, a shy glance shot towards him, but this time it didn't feel like she wasn't fleeing, but almost daring for him to chase her.

Another kind of hunt, he mused, and the thought made him smile as he closed the door and followed her out.

[jazzmasternot]

It’s gotten bad

[6esiree]

I always love to imagine that whenever human Alastor has had a long day, he loves coming to your shared home and fucking the absolute shit out of you 😍

Imagine Human Alastor…

• Making his presence known by slamming the front door shut, the wooden foundation of your shared home slightly shaking from the forcefulness of the act. You’re frightened at first, but when you realize it’s just your husband, you calm down and resume dinner, completely oblivious to what he has in store for you.

• Rushing towards the kitchen, the floorboards creaking underneath his hurried footsteps. You put down your knife and turn around to greet him with a ‘Hello, sweetheart!’ but then he snatches your arm, a yelp escaping your throat as he pushes you down face-first onto the dining table, your cheek squashed against the tablecloth.

• Swiftly flipping your skirt up and yanking your panties down to your feet, one strong hand binding your wrists together behind your back, the other desperately unfastening his pants. ‘Al, did something happen?’ You try to ask, concerned, but then he prods at your entrance with the head of his cock, eliciting a moan from you.

• Slowly pushing past your folds, your eyes fluttering shut and your mouth falling open with a cry as he stretches you, your cunt clamping around him. He barely gives you time to adjust, pulling out completely and slamming back into you with a strangled groan. ‘Long day,’ He eventually admits through gritted teeth.

• Encouraging you to lift your leg up over on the table, putting your cunt on full display for him. ‘Suck,’ He demands as he leans over your body, placing two fingers against your lips. You obediently comply, opening your mouth and sucking them eagerly. ‘Good girl,’ He sighs, staring at you with raw, utter adoration.

• Reaching down with his saliva-coated fingers to massage your neglected clit, so swollen and sensitive, his brows knitting in concentration as he angles his hips a certain way and abuses your g-spot at an unforgiving pace. ‘Wait, Al, no!’ You gasp, trying to free your arms, but he only chuckles and tightens his grip on your wrists.

• Watching in gratification as your mouth falls open in a series of desperate pleas, your body helplessly writhing underneath him and your cunt convulsing around his cock. ‘Oh, darling, look at the mess you’re making,’ He groans, the sight of liquid cascading down your trembling thighs bringing him closer to the edge.

• Letting up on you only till he’s finished, burying himself deep into you, emptying his load and assuring that not a single drop goes wasted. When he pulls out, he even gathers whatever tries to escape and pushes it back into your entrance with his fingers. ‘There we go,’ He hums, affectionately patting your wet, puffy cunt, making you jump.

• Helping you put your panties back on, savoring the way you stand stiffly before him afterwards, his cum uncomfortably pooling in between your legs. ‘You’ll make a great mother,’ He says nonchalantly, grabbing your chin and leaning down, craning his neck to place a tender kiss on your lips. You just stand there, stunned.

[liliannadelaphinehartifelt]

Alastor - [TOUCH STARVED]

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A/N: Photo/Fanart Credit to @/Nyer_roth on Twitter (hiatus)

[ NSFW ] + [ MDNI ] + [ FEM/CAT HYBRID DEMON READER ]

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Touch Starved Alastor prefers your presence over anyone else’s in the Hotel. His shadows linger by your side if he’s not physically there and when he is it’s quite obvious to everyone how closely the Radio Demon is guarding you.

No one dares to breathe a word about his behavior but the moment he’s out of sight or ear shot Angel will tease you endlessly. “Seems you have Mr. Fancy Creep wrapped round your little finger, toots.” Your face flushes ten shades of red as the spider demon nudges your side while giggling at your flustered reaction. He knows -well everyone knows how you feel about Alastor- but you’ve made it a point to never let the overload onto your attraction to him.

Even if he already is aware of it…

Angel’s teasing doesn’t help your little crush dissolve as you wished it would, so with a huff and a rushed whisper you excuse yourself from the group. “N-no I don’t Angel and…I’m heading to bed. Goodnight…” Angle snickers at your deliberate deflecting, but says nothing else as you waltz up the staircase, barely listening to Charlie yelling “good night” to you, and failing to notice the dark mass of spectrums trailing your every step.

Touch Starved Alastor listens in on those pesky conversations the others have when it comes to you and him. You’re always so skittish and docile under their prying, blushing at the slightest implication of his attention being on you, and to say it intrigues him would be an understatement. Alastor isn’t one to entertain those who show him affection, let alone acknowledge it, but when it comes to you the overload’s mind runs rampant with devious desires. At first he ignores them, content with keeping your connection to him cordial, and that works for a time.

It doesn’t last forever though.

Especially when you unconsciously tend to him so reverently. You’re a people pleaser by nature -he’s sure of that- but the immediate stars in your eyes whenever he instructs you to do something strikes just the right nerve for him.

It’s always the simplest things, tedious tasks he burdens you with just to see your eagerness to please him on repeat, “My dear, would you be so kind as to hand me that book over there?” Your head lifts, hopeful eyes staring at him as you nod with a genuine smile, “Of course!” You chirp, walking right over to the bookshelf without question to acquire the item, and Alastor watches your every move.

The flutter of your lashes as you pinpoint the object, how you stand on your tip toes to reach it, and the gentle sway of your hair as you finally grasp the book. You’re so sweet, so gentle with everything, and Alastor spends hours trying to stop himself from thinking about your tender embrace being spared his way.

Touch Starved Alastor starts to lock himself in his room or radio tower more often than usual when he can’t seem to keep his distance. His shadows still lord over you but are never seen which makes it that much easier for him to watch you from afar.

His sudden disappearance and lack of socializing affects you heavily. You don’t smile as much and when you do the light in your eyes wanes. You’re still kind to everyone, but choose to sit alone during group activities, or wander the halls humming to avoid them all together.

Alastor takes notice of every frown adorning your face when someone mentions him or inquires as to where he is and for a split second guilt creeps its way into him seeing your energetic mood dwindle at his hands.

He can’t let this go on forever, not when you look so betrayed at the sound of his name, and mindlessly wander towards his empty room every night as if to check on him just to leave in fear of embarrassment.

Enough is enough.

Touch Starved Alastor finds you alone on a rare stormy night in Hell, an old book opened up to your curious eyes as you lay flat on your front across the parlor’s couch. He watches you from the shadows for a long while, studying the slight scrunch of your nose as your gaze happens open a certain line of text, and the way you gently kick your feet as your chin rests on the back of your hands.

He’s seen and met a mass amount of beings in his time in hell and not one has ever emitted anything close to your ethereal beauty. You swear you’re not a fallen angel to anyone who asks and it baffles him how a soul so light could end up here.

Unruly luck….maybe?

Fate, possibly?

He’ll figure it out one way or another.

“Hello, my dear, late night reading I see…” Alastors voice grasps your attention immediately, his usual staticky tone leaning towards normality as you peer up at him with a growing smile. “Yes…I couldn’t sleep,” you respond quietly, relatively shy around the overload, and trying hard not to seem overexcited to see him. You missed Alastor dearly the past few days but it would be embarrassing to show that longing outright….

The deer demon picked up on your excitement right away despite your attempts at casualness, his smile softening as you held his stare and bit your lip. Delicate fanged canines poking out just enough to prick your lower lip.

How adorable, Alastor inwardly muses at your nervous habit and continues with his light hearted interrogation. “Hm, I suppose a restless night can have that effect. ..Would you mind if I joined you then, darling?”

Touch Starved Alastor is elated when you nod gently, shifting to sit up properly, and give him a space beside you. “Of course Alastor…it gets lonely staying up by yourself. I’d appreciate the company.” Your sweet tone dazes him for a moment as he sits next to you, unconsciously disregarding his aversion to interpersonal space…

Odd…

He never situates himself this close to you, always looming, but never actively seeking your side. It’s strange to you at first but as he visibly relaxes you don’t mind the deliberate position he’s taken.

He could very well be tired or you might be hallucinating that he was putting an arm around your shoulders.

Either option didn’t ease the rapid pace of your heartbeat..

Alastor was careful with you, incredibly gentle as he pulled you to his side, and rested his chin on the top of your head. “Such a sweetheart you are, my dear.” He speaks quietly, oddly calm as you hum in agreement, your soft ears flattening as you breathe in his scent.

A smidge of brimstone mixed with the aroma bourbon and pine.

He smelled just like a lovely forest, a secure scent you wouldn’t mind getting used to, and tried to commit it to memory just in case Alastor never let you get this close to him again.

Touch Starved Alastor chuckles lowly when you breathe him in, finding your feline tendencies endearing, and listening to your soft purring become a vocal indicator of how comfortable you felt with him. You’d long forgotten the book, nuzzling your head under Alastor’s chin instead, getting lost in your innocent desire to be under him, and he makes no move to stop you.

If anything the radio demon welcomes your touch, sliding you onto his lap with ease, and that never ending smile of his becoming genuine when you absentmindedly compliment him. “…You smell…sweet,” you hum, speaking more to yourself than him, but he hears you and responds promptly. “Is that so, darling?”

You nod, head lifting to stare up at him through your lashes, “Mhm…I missed it..I…” you pause, face flushing red as the deer demon peers back at you, red eyes glinting with dormant affection as he studies your expressions.

“Come now, use your words dear…” he reassures you his patience isn’t waning with a gentle hum.

Alastor is tempted to watch your plush lips move as you struggle to speak up but it’s hard to resist when you finally whisper a confession -one you think he’ll be off put by…

“W-well I missed you entirely Alastor… a lot actually.” And there you go again, eyes wide with apprehensive hope, and ever present adoration. He’d felt his fair share of adrenaline rushes, experienced the “blood rushing to your head” urges that sinners and demons alike couldn’t resist, and though Alastor prided himself in remaining in control of such things…

You brought them out of him without even trying.

Ridiculous, truly…but the longer you fawned over him the less cordiality Alastor maintained.

Touch Starved Alastor lets his smile soften, deeply appreciating your timid vulnerability, and much to your relief he lets you know it. “Missed me? Well, I must have quite the effect on you to instill such a sentiment,” His tone is abundantly softer than usual, quietly echoing in the hotels parlor, and tickling the nerves in your ears.

They perk up along with your tail as he rests his hands on your waist, pulling you impossibly close until the only proper place you can latch your hands onto is the back of the carved mahogany frame of the couch. “Al…” you sigh softly, eyes fluttering shut as his grip on you tightens a tad in response.

When had he gotten so touchy? Better yet, why?

All logical questions that you were asking yourself weren’t granted answers as the overlord inhaled heavily. Breathing you in just as you’d done to him moments ago.

Your unsteady pulse, rising lust, slight confusion, and underlying fear of him coursing through your veins in waves. Alastor identified each emotion, practically tasting them on his tongue, and his hunger rose again from it.

He could just eat you alive at this rate and from the whine you let out as he trailed his hands down to your thighs, claws ripping right through the sheer white thigh high socks you’d paired with a modestly short nightgown made it abundantly clear to him you wouldn’t mind if he did.

How sweet you’d taste?

How the shaky whines you were letting out now could turn to bashful screams?

How sickeningly perfect you’d look broken, bloody, and marked by him and him alone?

He’d wondered about these things constantly…feverishly…

Touch Starved Alastor lets his mirage of being a “true gentleman” dissipate entirely when you subconsciously roll your hips down on him for much needed friction -and in an attempt to dissolve the pain his scratches on your skin brought.

Fuck. This. Alastor curses himself, swiftly repositioning you both in a blink of an eye. Your back hits the velvet cushions with a gentle ‘thud’, earning a soft gasp on your part that’s inevitably silenced by one of his shadows wrapping around your mouth, and another gingerly snaking round your waist. He chuckles as you squirm underneath him, clearly wanting to be in control of your own body, but what would you ever need that autonomy for?

He’s here for a reason, right?

Why grant you more agency than required?

“Comfortable, my dear?” The leering stag above you chides, grin wide as you groan in frustration, eyes sliding shut as he slips between your parted legs. His red irises show brighter as your lower halves press flush against each other and you shudder from the contact -inwardly congratulating yourself for not wearing much underneath your nightdress to begin with.

Alastor allowed your hands to reach for him, your delicate claws gripping his suit collar as firmly as possible, tugging him lower as you shifted under his weight to grind against him. “Patience is a virtue, sweetheart,” he half reprimands half teases as your bare slit passes over the crotch of his black dress pants. There was no doubt your slick was leaving a stain and if it were anyone else -in any other situation- Alastor would’ve had their head for ruining his attire.

Luckily, you were to receive anything but his wrath.

How fortunate…

Touch Starved Alastor feels himself going mad when you mindlessly use any part of him you can reach as a bid for more pleasure. Eyes watering, begging him to touch you, help you, and it’s one hell of a sight to see in his opinion. “Desperate aren’t we, darling?” His cooing drives you insane, large hands wandering under your nightgown to trace your warm skin -not helping your dazed state at all.

Alastor purposefully claws at your body, placing surface level scars on it, letting the small droplets of blood that escape his cuts paint your skin and his fingertips. You struggle every soften, train of thought lagging as pain and pleasure start to intertwine.

“….please don’t stop..”

“What a sick & twisted little thing you are..”

Tears run down your face, drool dripping from the corner of your lips, and your cunt leaking all over him and sofa. Blood starts to seep through your nightdress in random streaks and it’s only then that Alastor decide it’s redundant to keep it on you. “Let’s get rid of this, shall we?” That’s all the warning you get from the radio demon before you feel his claws shred it to pieces.

Thank heavens you hadn’t chosen your favorite one tonight or you’d be devastated…

“Much, much better, ma chère,” Alastor praises you as if the task was at your own hands -and to some degree it was for letting him get this far- and yet your face flushes a deep shade of red as you nod in agreement.

The shadowy tentacle covering your mouth tightens its grip, shifting sharply to expose your neck to him, and Alastor seizes the opening immediately. Taking his time finding your sensitive spots, marking them with his teeth and tongue until there’s dark bruises left behind, and you nearly came undone from the relentless precision of love bites he inflicts on you.

Touch Starved Alastor allows your hands wander wherever they please, quite taken with the feeling of your dainty claws raking down his back, or shifting up to pet his ears. They flicker about at your touch, ever so sensitive, and heightening the pleasure he gets from torturing you. Every sound you make, the shuddering moans against his lips, and the muffled cries that build in your chest when Alastor toys with you muddles his focus further.

Bit by bit you’re chipping away at his sanity by simply enjoying his caress and offering him yours.

Alastor isn’t one to succumb to pleading easily but when you’re given the chance to use your voice and beg for release without a second thought….he hasn’t got the gall to deny you.

Not when you’re looking up at him like you might die if he denies you, so worked up that you stutter, and shake uncontrollably.

“N-need to….p-please let me…come,” you whine as quietly as possible, ears laying flat on your head as he hums melodically in false consideration for your plight.

It’s fueling his already massive ego that you’re poised to come undone when he’s barely done a thing to you and he has half the mind to pull away and watch you fall to pieces…

You’d surely give him a show then, pouting helplessly, or cowering from embarrassment realizing how much of a mess you’ve made of yourself for him.

It’d be pure entertainment.

However, why waste a prime opportunity to see you utterly satisfied by him?

By his mere presence even.

The deer demon refuses to pass up such a rare occurrence, flipping your position again so your smaller frame sits atop his larger one. “F-fuck..” you hiss as you settle on top of him, eyes rolling to the back of your head when he guides your hips to keep riding him at a rough but languid pace. Alastor observes you above him for a long moment, smile widening when your hair falls in front of your bright eyes, and your hands splay across his chest to keep yourself steadily upright.

The scratches he’s left on you are still fresh, mixing with the tears that flow down your face, and your arousal pitifully dribbling down your inner thighs as well.

Exactly how he pictured you time and time again.

“You may,” he finally exhales, static completely gone from his voice, and hearing it elicits a newfound spark of heat in your core. Your legs shake involuntarily, hips stuttering in tight circles over his clothed erection as you chased your high. Alastor watches you intently, tonguing his cheek to keep from groaning, and his body running hotter than usual as your cunt drags against him.

Touch Starved Alastor can’t fathom how a soul as tender as yours can dwindle to filth in the midst of cumming. Head lulling at an angle while your back arches just right to define your silhouette in the dark room.

The coil in your stomach snaps faster than you can gauge a reaction. A scream threatening to leap from your chest as it washed over you, but his shadows return, clasping tight enough to muffle it. “Easy, my dear…you wouldn’t want to disturb the others, hm?” Alastor bucks his hips upward to make his point clear and you visibly jolt from the overstimulation he causes.

It was clear he needed his end met too and that brought a grin to your face as his shadows receded from your lips when you quieted down. “No…” you sigh, inching a hand lower to trace over the rise in his pants. Alastor stiffens under your touch, nearly snarling when you palm him slowly, eyes never leaving his as you do. Tempting and sweet as always, “Careful, Mon Cher,” he warns, voice thick with allure.

He’d only come to seek a warm body to torment, assuming he’d take care of his own needs later, but you -the ever so caring sinner you were- seemed intent to shoulder the task now.

You licked your lips, tongue grazing your fangs as your peered down at him defiantly with a warm smile, “M’ not one of your little puppets…” Alastor raised a brow at that, noting the mischievous glint in your eyes as you leaned forward, “….and I never will be.” You finish your statement, smiling wider before lowering yourself down his body. He lets you do as you please, stuck between observing, and enjoying the attention you give him.

It’s very rare to see the overload so willing to be tested, but you made your stance clear with a singular lick up his clothed length with the softest smile on your lips. “Fuck…” he groans then, static nonexistent again as you playfully repeated the action until he became agitated enough to fist a handful of your hair and drag you back up to face him.

“It’s not very polite to tease, sweetheart.”

You smirk and reach for his belt, skillfully undoing it without breaking eye contact, feigning humility through half lidded eyes“Then would you be so kind as to correct my manners then?”

“It’d be my pleasure, darling,”

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My head was all over the place with this one ❤️ I need some sleep…

[ BONUS CONTENT + ]

He’s a literal walking red flag 🚩 and unfortunately my favorite color is red 😭 Credits to the creator 🖤

[minkdelovely]

ANOTHER INCREDIBLE CHAPTER BUT ARE WE REALLY SURPRISED??

I loved getting to know Edward — I don’t know if we’ll see him again, but he really took me by surprise. How do I have such fondness for a detective we just met? Maybe because he’s just so even keeled compared to KENNETH lmao (the day I call him Brady call the FBI or something cuz it means aliens took over my body)

The suspense just keeps building in such a delicious way! I know every week we get closer to the end but I’m honestly having too much fun living in the now even I can’t wait to go see our darling at the Golden Dish next week 😩✨

(Kenneth the whole chapter)

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧     ✧     ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

Okay, I have paused reading to provide some fresh thoughts…

I don’t have a breakdown for the beginning of this fic, because I was just so caught up in how we’re exploring this new character, Edward Freeman. I think it’s no secret that I am a BIG FAN of exposition, and the opening of this chapter is such a fantastic example of it.

We immediately get a sense of who this man is and where he stands, how he views the world and the people around him. The mention of real-world events will get me every time, and The Crash and its impact has always fascinated me, so seeing how it’s being used here to bolster Edward’s worldview was just SOOOO satisfying.

Also the description of Tommy’s mom?? Watery eyed and shaking? I can see this poor woman so clearly, and I feel for her, even with all the context we have as the reader: that Tommy sucked and our collective Deer Husband killed him (and then we proceeded to fuck said husband as Tommy went cold on the floor). I guess I’m just trying to say that I’m constantly surprised at where we’re finding sympathy for characters as this story progresses, whether it’s toward someone established or brand new.

It’s the marker of a great author who really cares about everyone involved here, and I suppose I need to get real comfortable staying down here on the floor to worship at Hazel’s altar.

Brady’s bright blue eyes only get clearer and darker with every ounce of anger you inspired in him. An angry sea churning up violently behind his mean mug. He was practically sneering at you. 

AHHHH THERE YOU ARE, KENNETH

You remembered his hair well from that first meeting in front of the cafe. It clearly had become oily and weighed down from less frequent washing. The skin under his eyes was looking dark and thin. “You look like shit, by the way. Should sleep instead of bothering honest performers.”

AUTUMN!! This is a true “reader insert” moment right here

“Ha, there you are. True colors shining through finally.”

Kenneth you can’t say that, cuz I said it first??

“How was my mom? Not much of a talker.”

HA!!

His head turned with a crawl, weighted down with a steel ball of apprehensive horror, to look at Brady. He was leaning on the table with both elbows, staring at you like you’d busted out his car window and shot his dog. 

DAMNNN EDDIE IS SHOOK THE HOUSE DOWN BOOTS

Freeman looked at Brady with dead eyes, the shutdown of his feelings was an automatic attempt by his body to try and keep from grabbing Brady by the shirt in a fit rage, and turned the paper to reveal the name written to Brady. 

Am I… Edward Freeman…?

“What crime?”

“The one with the guy and the girl. It’s all in there.”

OHHH KENNETH. THIS IS NOT GOOD 😬

“What does that matter! It’s an illegal hooch den! Naked dancers! Race mixing! She admitted she-,” Brady was pacing a small three foot by three foot square in front of the desk. Freeman had his arms crossed while seated.

KENNETH “CLUTCHING MY PEARLS” BRADY

Freeman sighed, long and heavy. A huff of breath that somehow conveyed his disappointment better than words.

THE WAY I CAN HEAR THIS. Edward is so tired 😩

“I know she’s involved. I know her guy did it. And I know someone’s killing people. Lots of people.” He said it confidently into the corner of the office.

I just… hate how fucking right he is though

“One complaint about you and you’re being chained to a desk. Cut her loose, apologize, and go home. I don’t wanna see you anymore tonight. Your freaky little eyes are getting under my skin.” His captain removed his small rounded glasses and rubbed his hands down his face, exasperated his life had come to telling men to stop doing their jobs.

YOUR FREAKY LITTLE EYES ARE GETTING UNDER MY SKIN — I’M SCREAMING 😂🙈

With a scoff and a shake of your head, you found yourself, “No,  but I wish he had. What’s the point of being good if people assume the worst of you anyway?” Reaching out for his hand again, you held his large one in both of your smaller ones, “At least if he’d killed him I’d be sure Tommy’s never coming back to keep his promise.”

GASLIGHT GATEKEEP GIRLBOSS

The paralysis set in as soon as the door was shut. You could hear Alastor’s name echoing around in your head, the sound so sharp it made fresh tears well. Brady had heard it, of course. It was for nothing. You worked so hard, kept his name off of your tongue despite the way it always felt so good there. 

UGHHHHH MY HEARTT

Brady wasn’t crazy, he was smart and lucky.

ain’t it the fucking truth 😩

Brady smiled, and for a moment you forgot how scary that should be. “No. You’re a liar and you’re aiding a criminal. But you work in a place I’m not supposed to bother. Luckily for me, Alastor’s work surely isn’t one.” Your eyes rolled. Hearing him say the name was like hearing a dog sing opera. Unsettling and unnatural. Perhaps a little impressive from a distance. Unfortunately you were front row and center.

KENNETH YOUR VITRIOL I SWEAR TO GODDD

Briefly he entertained grabbing you and violently shaking you until you confessed. He managed to find the strength to bury that down, mouth opening instead in preparation for words he didn’t have yet.

I SEE YOUR TRUE COLORS SHINING THROUGHHH🎶

Brady motioned with his thumb down the hall and said, “Your guy isn’t here to pick you up. Funny name by the way. I got a complaint for an Alastor last week. Socked some man for no good reason. Sounds like a violent fella, kinda guy with a temper when someone speaks I’ll of his lady, or fiancé, I’m told…Anyway, dropped the case since the guy wouldn’t give any more information but maybe I should follow up.”

WILLIAM. I knew I needed to remember you for a reason… I was wrong the last time, but I KNEW YOU WERE A SNAKE AND A BITCH

He didn’t move. He couldn’t let you take this moment from him. He’d made a massive victory in this personal war and your nonchalant attitude was making something in the back of his skull itch. Somewhere beneath his bone. A new sensation.

MY LORD THIS MAN IS PISSED 😰

A man unable to control his face was often a man unable to control his hands.

OH MY GOD

“This won’t end like you think it will.” He said it too loudly for how close he was to you, “It never does for the women.” He stopped at the station’s front desk and leaned into the glossy wooden counter, “Oh! I almost forgot! Congrats on the engagement.”

Kenny you can’t be cunt… don’t make me like you because you’re cunt 😩

Like a leak in the hull of your iron-sided ship, it seemed the second Ruth so sweetly dripped that name into Brady’s waiting maw the ocean was spilling in. Every time you heard it fall from another person’s mouth the breach in your metal barriers tore wider. If the Titanic could sink in calm weather what luck did Alastor and you have in the tempest of Brady’s fervor?

Words do not exist to articulate what this whole paragraph means to me… but you know Hazel 🥺♥️

He shook his head and handed you the card, “He said,” a pause as his eyes rolled up to search for the exact words, “to tell the host you’re there for him. Called it the Golden Dish, but the card doesn’t mention anything like that…. Sorry, I didn’t think to ask more questions. Like I said, he seemed out of sorts.”

I NEED TO HUG HIM IMMEDIATELY

What was the Golden Dish? And who was kissing Alastor’s business cards?

AAHHHH!! I THINK I KNOW WHO IT IS 👀✨

A Doe in Fall (Part 12)

⟢HumanAlastor x FemaleBurlesquerReader - A Doe in Fall

A burlesquer with a penchant for conning men, you find your latest game interrupted when your next mark saves you from an aggressive fan— by killing him. The chance encounter left you curious, still half convinced you could complete your normal chase. Unbeknownst to you, you were the one being tracked.

Part 1 - Pretty in Red smut💦 Part 2 - Liar smut💦 Part 3 - A Tragedy smut💦 Part 4 - Enough Part 5 - Too Much Part 6 - Learning smut💦 Part 7 - Recognition smut💦 Part 8 - Trust sexual 🥵 Part 9 - Shiny Things Part 10 - Good Deeds Part 11 - Caught Part 12 - Eddie📍

Part 12 Eddie

Brady tried to cut some corners to bring you and Alastor down but ends up just hurting himself.

「Warnings/Promises: Human Alastor x Fem!Reader, still not smut cuz we’re waiting for the special moment, po-po, 5-0, down at the gun club, not an accurate portrayal of 1930s New Orleans Leadership, mystery kisses, brief thoughts of violence, illiteracy, @minkdelovely」

MDNI 👮 🚓

Edward Freeman met Kenneth Brady when the younger man was partnered with him. He was bright eyed, and had a sense of justice Freeman appreciated. He was already tired of the rigamarole of police work, so the fresh energy reinvigorated his early days and long nights. It was rather pointless though, police work, given the people in charge weren’t fans of cracking down on the illegal booze business. It was making too much money under the tables and in handshakes.

The nation was still reeling from the crash of the market nearly two years prior. Any way to get ahead, to stay with your chin above the rising waters, well… what harm is there really in feeding your family? The end justifies the means, right? And Brady didn’t seem to disagree too much with that sentiment. 

So when the typically stringent, but otherwise soft spoken and relaxed, Brady began to…devolve into someone a little too myopic, Freeman wasn’t quite sure how to handle him. They’d been rather laissez-faire about the morality of things for so long. They tried to keep violence at a minimum so their fellow citizens could enjoy their city. That was the extent of it. But, Brady was becoming obsessed. 

It started normally enough. Brady bringing up a missing husband. Later on, a missing bartender. Soon he was snooping on to other’s cases, convinced something was connecting them. 

But, given the times and the character of such people, well, Freeman couldn’t quite understand Brady’s fervor. Sure. Some of them probably ended up under backyards and in the water. Hell, quite a few of them he’d have helped do away once he got the real dirt on them. A conspiracy? Or a mass killer? That seemed implausible at best. There was simply no indication of a grande scheme. 

Brady kept pushing. Walking the streets at night with ears open and eyes peeled, for any inkling of what was going on. 

He just couldn’t accept that sometimes people leave town or jobs. Very few of them were actually reported by loved ones, even the ones that had them.

Then came along the widow Dupre, watery eyed and shaking about her missing adult son. Who, from what they’d uncovered, was a real piece of work.

Freeman let Brady start his investigation, but as it became clear he was adding it to his pile of random disappearances, Freeman had to step away. He could see the obsession ruining his friend. 

At a rare dinner with the families, the stress on Brady’s wife’s face was visible for all to see. She cornered Freeman in the kitchen when he went for more coffee, asking if Brady was stepping out on her or if he truly had been working so hard on something big. 

He hardly knew what to say. Neither were true. He’d been working late, but on a wild goose chase. 

When he dragged a clean cut and confused woman into the station, Freeman knew he’d really lost the fucking plot. 

“She’s his accomplice. I know it. Her fella is the man. I’ve got him fingered.” Brady pointed at you through the closed door. You weren’t listening to their voices in the hall, the name still ringing in your head. The name you'd both sacrificed to keep secret. 

Alastor.

Freeman hissed, “You can’t arrest people for knowing a guy! A boogie man at that, Kenny. Come on.” 

“I have her confession for prostitution. It’s all clean and by the book. And, I have a witness.” Brady tapped Freeman’s arm with the back of his hand and led him down the hall to another room, “He saw her and her guy throw a body in the river.”

Well, shit.

“You found a body? The Dupre son?” Freeman considered what he’d said. The river? Why the river? Bodies didn’t always make it to the sea. It’d be a sloppy misstep for this supposed murderous mastermind.

Brady sighed, his parade a little rained on. “...No, but I have a witness right there. And, I got the name of her fella. I just need to find which station he’s at and I’m off to the races. I bet you my house this guy’s good for it.”

Ah, so. He had next to nothing. Freeman just nodded and took a calming breath. “Alright, are we starting with the woman or this guy?”

“Oh, for sure her.” Bready turned to open the door, but Freeman shot his hand out to stop him. 

“And this is the one who gave you the runaround?” Freeman had heard so much about you already, he wanted to prepare himself for whatever tricky shrew was waiting for him. He followed his partner through the door and took you in fully. Your stare was distant and glassy. You’d been crying and you seemed to be shaking slightly from the cold of the room as fall’s night air slipped in through the window. 

You could, reasonably, be his daughter. A similar age for sure, similar build, same hair color. Same penchant for the wrong kinda guy, apparently.

He recalled all of the ways Brady had spoken about you. The image in his head was a bird faced woman with sharp eagle eyes and tight lips. Someone decidedly ugly with a permanent scowl and mischief behind quick glances.

And here was a woman, vulnerable and quite nice to look at it. Hair obviously groomed well when not manhandled by cops, and a rather handsome dress which indicated a good personality by the current standards. The shoulders had flat bows that let their ribbons fall onto your bare shoulders. Feminine. Suitable. Not much skin showing. otherwise. A burlesquer seemed to the kind who didn’t wear clothes often, but he supposed everyone has a work uniform after all. Even the nude dancers. Who was he to judge you for your professional clothing requirements? You were here and modest and that’s what mattered.

He took a seat, sliding the folder Brady had set down into the space in front of him. “I hear you’re not too fond of disclosing your personal information.”

It had been several hours since you’d arrived, and now they chose to grace you with their presence? You’d been tossed into a room and left alone for so long, it seemed more like punishment than bureaucracy.

Brady’s bright blue eyes only get clearer and darker with every ounce of anger you inspired in him. An angry sea churning up violently behind his mean mug. He was practically sneering at you. 

“Can you blame me? The men in this city are certifiable. Case in point, this hound you call a cop.” You had the forethought to keep your shoulders pulled inward, gesturing with your chin.

“Detective.” Brady corrected. 

“Same thing, jackass.” Eyes rolling, you pushed back against the chair causing the front legs to lift for a second. Returning your glare to him, you honed in on the messy details. You remembered his hair well from that first meeting in front of the cafe. It clearly had become oily and weighed down from less frequent washing. The skin under his eyes was looking dark and thin. “You look like shit, by the way. Should sleep instead of bothering honest performers.”

“Ha, there you are. True colors shining through finally.”

“How was my mom? Not much of a talker.”

“Fu-,” Brady flinched forward, chair squeaking against the linoleum floor. It took a tensing of your arms to keep from openly reacting.

“Ya’ll, enough. Now, don’t be too sour with us. We’re just working off your own words,” Freeman opened the folder to find your confession. It had been typed nice and neat and labeled DOE, JANE. He turned it to you briefly, eyebrows hitching as if to ask if you remembered it. You glanced at it long enough to see the conversation and names and nodded. Yes, you’d had that conversation. Brady must have typed it mostly from memory, you thought, or he had some quick shorthand. He brought it back to face him and as his eyes roamed the sheet, his shoulders stiffened. He wasn’t seeing what he was expecting. “Could you-?,” he motioned for Brady to point out the part of your last conversation that constituted a confession. Brady tapped a line of text. 

BRADY - Tell me about the dates Tommy arranged. DOE, JANE - Apparently many of the dancers agreed, got a cut. I had no idea about it until he introduced me to a man who was very forward. I insulted him and ran off. Lost Tommy good money, apparently. BRADY - And who was that? DOE, JANE - S something. Mister Stein? I honestly wasn’t listening much after I realized what was happening. BRADY - And then he knocked you around? DOE, JANE - Yeah. Got me good. BRADY - And… the next date. Last time anyone saw Tommy. Tell me about that. DOE, JANE - Tommy said he’d kill me if I didn’t go. So I did. Promised me he’d stay with me for protection. But as soon as he got his money he left.

Freeman’s head lifted slowly from the paper to look at you over the folder, across the table. Your arms were crossed, makeup smeared and running with long dried tears. Your hair mussed. His head turned with a crawl, weighted down with a steel ball of apprehensive horror, to look at Brady. He was leaning on the table with both elbows, staring at you like you’d busted out his car window and shot his dog. 

“Can I speak to you for a moment?” He pushed back, resting his hand on Brady’s shoulder and walking out. In the small room that looked into the interrogation room where the male witness fidgeted, he set the folder and your words down. 

He motioned for Brady to close the door behind him. As soon as the latch clicked into place, he smacked the table. 

“That isn’t a confession! It’s a fucking victim statement, Kenny.” He looked through the one way glass at the man seated, “And he wrote a witness report?” He gestured with his head, the man Brady called Joseph sat quietly waiting for their return. His clothes were pulling at the seams, his fingernails crusted with dirt. 

Brady nodded, “Yeah. He came in yesterday and after he told me what he saw he wrote it down there and signed.” He was pointing to a piece of paper he’d left on the same table Kenny was now trying to use for stability. Trying was the keyword. His disbelief was dizzying. 

A small laugh, petulant and bordering annoyed, left his lips. He grabbed a pen, wrote something down, and brushed past him. Freeman marched into the witness room, Brady closely following behind.

“Sir, do me a favor and check I’ve spelt your name properly on this paperwork please.” He held it up. The man looked, found where Freeman's finger was pointing, and nodded.

Freeman looked at Brady with dead eyes, the shutdown of his feelings was an automatic attempt by his body to try and keep from grabbing Brady by the shirt in a fit rage, and turned the paper to reveal the name written to Brady. 

Josanna. Written neatly in block letters. 

Without breaking eye contact with Brady, “And just refresh my memory, sir, what was your statement in regards to again?”

Joseph cleared his throat, “I saw it happen. Down by the river.”

“Saw what happen?”

“The crime.”

“What crime?”

“The one with the guy and the girl. It’s all in there.”

Freeman shoved the written statement into Brady’s chest, “You have half a second to get to the captain’s office before I do.” 

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“That man can’t even read his own name let alone write. From what I can tell he’s a random homeless you plied with confiscated booze. What is going on with you?” The gray haired man bellowed from his chair, hands resting on a large pot belly. 

“What does that matter! It’s an illegal hooch den! Naked dancers! Race mixing! She admitted she-,” Brady was pacing a small three foot by three foot square in front of the desk. Freeman had his arms crossed while seated.

“A victim told you she was assaulted. And I-,” the captain leaned back in his chair, “You know exactly how we feel about the wet spots in this city. The, uh, race thing is another issue but— Kenny, you’re one more rogue act from losing your beat. Do you not get that?”

“Rogue? I’m doing legitimate police work. I’m investigating crime! What the fuck is happening here?!” He stopped pacing long enough wave an apology to his boss for the language. 

Freeman sighed, long and heavy. A huff of breath that somehow conveyed his disappointment better than words.

“I decide what constitutes police work and this is not that.” His boss shook his chair side to side, thinking about how to get Brady in line. “It comes straight from the commissioner and the mayor above him. We aren’t to hound the bars under our purview.”

‘I’m not!” He started up pacing again, hands up and open in genuine confused frustration. 

“You’re harassing their dancers! Stalking around their establishments at night freaking people out!” He laughed in disbelief, “Her manager is outside now. Had to shut down for the night because of your little show.”

Brady put his hands on his hips and faced away from the captain. His face enough alone to have him dismissed. 

“I know she’s involved. I know her guy did it. And I know someone’s killing people. Lots of people.” He said it confidently into the corner of the office.

“Kenny. Enough.” Freeman shook his head and stood to leave. 

“One complaint about you and you’re being chained to a desk. Cut her loose, apologize, and go home. I don’t wanna see you anymore tonight. Your freaky little eyes are getting under my skin.” His captain removed his small rounded glasses and rubbed his hands down his face, exasperated his life had come to telling men to stop doing their jobs.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

While you were here anyway, and Brady shooed off Joseph, Freeman decided to speak with you again. He offered you a nod and took Brady’s seat.

It was hard to be friendly, you found. Every minute or so you had to sniffle, nose running long after the tears dried up. Your eyelashes stuck together when you blinked.

“I’m afraid I didn’t get your name, sir.” You sniffled again, hands warming your arms.

Freeman leaned over and offered you his hand, “Detective Eddie Freeman.” You shook it, keeping your hand rather limp to give the appearance of weakness.

“I just-,” he laughed as he set his hand on the table, clicking his ring twice out of habit, “I gotta ask. Did your fella kill Tommy? Are you in some kinda trouble?”

With a scoff and a shake of your head, you found yourself, “No,  but I wish he had. What’s the point of being good if people assume the worst of you anyway?” Reaching out for his hand again, you held his large one in both of your smaller ones, “At least if he’d killed him I’d be sure Tommy’s never coming back to keep his promise.”

Your mother always taught you to make yourself small. Remind the people you needed to believe you that you were not a threat. Play the part they always pigeon holed you into. It was easier than fighting the assumptions. There was power in deception. 

“Your pal is really ruining my life. Even more than Tommy.” You squeezed, 30% strength.  

When you looked up at him, he could only find you to be the image of pitiful girl, “Let me check some things and I’ll have Kenny sending you on your way, miss-?”

“Doe.”

“Right.” His ring rapped against the bright wooden door frame, two times, and your brief time knowing Freeman ended. 

The paralysis set in as soon as the door was shut. You could hear Alastor’s name echoing around in your head, the sound so sharp it made fresh tears well. Brady had heard it, of course. It was for nothing. You worked so hard, kept his name off of your tongue despite the way it always felt so good there. 

Conjured images of Alastor barging into the police station haunted you. What would he say in anger? Brady wasn’t crazy, he was smart and lucky. Nothing could be worse. Alastor could say anything while mad, and Brady could make conclusions he had no business jumping to.

And then he was there in the room with you, and you had to return to the moment and try to calibrate yourself. Who were you now? He already knew you weren’t the damsel in distress, he knew you weren’t weak and frail. Right?

Maybe you’d just be yourself, like you’d let slipped earlier. Your mouth opened and his hand flew up, “Don’t. Shut it.”

“Excu-”

“I’ve been told to apologize and send you home.”

“Oh? And are you?”

Brady smiled, and for a moment you forgot how scary that should be. “No. You’re a liar and you’re aiding a criminal. But you work in a place I’m not supposed to bother. Luckily for me, Alastor’s work surely isn’t one.” Your eyes rolled. Hearing him say the name was like hearing a dog sing opera. Unsettling and unnatural. Perhaps a little impressive from a distance. Unfortunately you were front row and center.

Time with you felt so rare, he wanted to keep you a little longer but couldn’t think of what to say or do. Briefly he entertained grabbing you and violently shaking you until you confessed. He managed to find the strength to bury that down, mouth opening instead in preparation for words he didn’t have yet. 

“Can I go home now?” Rubbing your arms to make it clear how uncomfortable you were, you cut him off like he had you. Not that he had anything to say. 

Brady motioned with his thumb down the hall and said, “Your guy isn’t here to pick you up. Funny name by the way. I got a complaint for an Alastor last week. Socked some man for no good reason. Sounds like a violent fella, kinda guy with a temper when someone speaks I’ll of his lady, or fiancé, I’m told…Anyway, dropped the case since the guy wouldn’t give any more information but maybe I should follow up.”

“Are you so sure I have one, a guy that is?” You simply couldn’t admit Alastor was yours. Never. Not for Brady. “No one’s coming for me. No one’s punched anyone for me either. Though, I’m flattered you think I’m worth the charge. Am I free to leave?” The little tug of your lips into a halfhearted grin warmed you. It was thrilling, lying to his face when you both knew the truth.

He didn’t move. He couldn’t let you take this moment from him. He’d made a massive victory in this personal war and your nonchalant attitude was making something in the back of his skull itch. Somewhere beneath his bone. A new sensation.

A brief and violent flash of knocking the smirk off your tear stained face startled him. You noticed him swallow hard, expression shifting from amused to bewildered. From the outside, all you could read was a frightened widening of his eyes.

“Brady…? If you’re waiting for some man to collect me, I’ll be here all night.” Your voice was softer now, while you couldn’t uncover what was happening in his head, you could tell he was in some kind of turmoil.

A man unable to control his face was often a man unable to control his hands.

His legs lifted his body up and dragged him over to the door.  He opened it, slowly, before leaning against the wall beside it to ensure you passed him in close quarters. He knew he couldn’t keep you there forever.

Maybe this Alastor was a real rough fellow. So cruel he wouldn’t even care if his dame was in a bind. The kind of man to abandon his closest allies when cornered. Maybe he really wasn’t coming for you. Which was fine, he told himself. He’d be seeing him soon.

Following you out, he took the walk as an opportunity to warn you again.

“This won’t end like you think it will.” He said it too loudly for how close he was to you, “It never does for the women.” He stopped at the station’s front desk and leaned into the glossy wooden counter, “Oh! I almost forgot! Congrats on the engagement.”

Turning to say a harsh good night, you caught yourself and turned back, exiting through the station doors without another word to him. No need for polite pleasantries anymore. The game was well and truly over for you. 

“Oh thank god,” Johnny was sitting on the steps of the station and jumped to his feet when you came out, a sight you weren’t expecting. You stopped, confused. He smiled seeing your brows knit and eyes wander past him in search of someone else, “I was going to bail you out but they said there wasn’t any need. Alastor is waiting for you.” 

Like a leak in the hull of your iron-sided ship, it seemed the second Ruth so sweetly dripped that name into Brady’s waiting maw the ocean was spilling in. Every time you heard it fall from another person’s mouth the breach in your metal barriers tore wider. If the Titanic could sink in calm weather what luck did Alastor and you have in the tempest of Brady’s fervor?

“Oh…,” you tried to hide the dejection. He sent Johnny? That was smart, but, why did it sting?

Perhaps it was his six sisters, or maybe he was genuinely a good man, but Johnny’s heart ached at the pitiful tone. He leapt up two steps, “He wanted to come! But I told him it was a bad idea. Tempers and all that. Don’t need any more issues for you tonight. Though admittedly he didn’t seem mad, necessarily.”

A slow nod. Johnny told Alastor what to do? Your eyes looked to the left, that was an odd mental image.

“Thanks, Johnny. I need to return to the theater first.” Your hand reached out for his arm and gave it a squeeze, “I appreciate you.”

“Dont mention it. And your bag is with Alastor.” He let his hand come to yours, “He’s kind of a mess, that one.”

You tensed, accidentally pinching his arm in a flit of panic before drawing it back, “Did he drive home like that?”

He shook his head and handed you the card, “He said,” a pause as his eyes rolled up to search for the exact words, “to tell the host you’re there for him. Called it the Golden Dish, but the card doesn’t mention anything like that…. Sorry, I didn’t think to ask more questions. Like I said, he seemed out of sorts.”

You looked down to inspect it, nervous at the sudden introduction of a paper trail. Nodding, you finally took it with both hands. The face was rather plain: an address in the corner with just the number and street, and an interlocked G and D in the center. Turning it over, you found a pink lipstick kiss stained haphazardly across the back and a small squiggle. Your thumb ran over the clipped right bottom corner. 

What was the Golden Dish? And who was kissing Alastor’s business cards?

⋅˚₊‧ 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 ,

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[babyfoxflower]

The One That Outsmarted Him

Human! Alastor x Fem! Reader Oneshot

Warnings: 18+, MNDI, Yandere! Alastor, Murder, Blood, Kidnapping, Groping, Implied Noncon

You.

You were the only person to ever escape Alastor ‘the Bayou Butcher’ Hartfelt. It was honestly slightly humiliating that the one to outsmart him was a silly girl. A petite woman who he could have easily overpowered and slit her throat. What a pretty little throat yours was.

Once the humiliation wore off though. Alastor started having different feelings about you. Admiration, respect, and strangely, for him, infatuation. In other words, he was in love with you. You were going to be his. Whether you wanted to or not. He’d track you down, chain you up so you couldn’t escape, and love you for the rest of his life. Even if you managed to escape, he’ll just hunt you down again.

Alastor hummed as he opened his trunk, in there laid a brown sack that squirmed around and made muffled panic noises.

“Someone wake up from their nap? Don’t worry, ma Cherie. You’ll be out soon,” he cooed as he stroked his large hand over the outline of a human body.

He hoisted the sack over his shoulder before closing the trunk. He carried it all the way down to his basement, where there was a comfy queen sized bed with a chain ready for his darling.

He gently dropped the bag onto the bed, causing a little bounce. He opened it up and there you were, looking so adorable and confused.

“There she is,” he chuckled as he pulled you out of the sack.

Your hands and feet were bond and there was a gag keeping you from speaking. As soon as you saw who your captor was, fear consumed you and you started to fight the best you could in your state.

“Now, now, I’ll untie you. Just let me get the chain.”

Alastor picked up the chain that was attached to the wall and placed it as gently as he could on your neck before clamping it closed. It had enough room for you to breathe but was still sturdy enough to make sure you weren’t going anywhere.

He then untied your wrists and ankles before removing the gag.

“Please, don’t kill me! I didn’t tell anyone about that night!” You cried out.

“Shhh,” Alastor placed his finger to your lips, “It’s alright, my love, I’m not going to hurt you.”

“Then why did you bring me here?”

Memories flashed back of you coming in the station after hours to get something you left behind. You heard something in the recording room. Curiosity got the better of you and you entered only to see the famous radio host who happened to also be your employer stabbing a man to death.

The smile, the horrid smile that was on his face as he carved into the unknown man. Just the pure ecstasy Alastor was clearly experiencing from such an atrocious act. It was so terrifying that you nearly fainted. However, all you could do was stand there motionless, face twisted in terror.

Once the man was dead, Alastor laughed, “Thank you for the entertainment, ol’ chum.”

He began cleaning his glasses with his handkerchief, his face still covered with the crimson liquid. When he put them back on, he turned and saw you.

“Oh dear, looks like we have a little witness. Y/n, you just had to show up at the wrong time,” He tsked.

“Please, Mister Hartfelt…” was all you could manage to say.

“I try not to make it a habit of killing women, but I guess in this case I have no choice. Sorry, Sweetheart. But, hey, I’ll make it quick. You’ll barely feel a thing,” he said as he approached you.

Tears started streaming down your cheeks, “Please, don’t kill me. I won’t tell anyone.”

“A real shame, you were such a hardworker and quite a charming lady,” he raised his knife.

Out of desperation, you did the one thing you could think of in that moment, you kissed him. Alastor took a step back, shocked. Out of surprise, he dropped his knife. You seized the opportunity and ran away. You escaped with your life.

Now what could he possibly want with you? It was true that you didn’t tell anyone about that encounter. You only quit by letter and never went back to that radio station again.

“I brought you here, ma Cherie, because I love you,” Alastor pressed his lips against yours.

“What!?” You said into the forced kiss.

He reluctantly pulled away, “I love you and I’m going to keep you forever.”

“What!?”

“I assure you that you will be safe and provided for, my love,” he smiled tenderly as he brushed a piece of hair behind your ear.

The look on his face was of a smitten schoolboy. Pupils dilated, face flushed.

“How can you love me? You hardly know me. I worked for you but it’s not like we ever talked much. Not mentioning that you tried to KILL ME!”

“I know, but that was in the past. Let’s focus on the future instead,” he wiped your remaining tears away, “I love you and will never hurt you now or ever. That’s a promise.”

Suddenly, he lifted you up and laid you down so that your head was on the pillows. You let out a squeak that he found absolutely adorable. He took off his leather gloves and let his hands explore your body.

“What are you doing?”

“I apologize, I just couldn’t resist getting to touch my bride,” he said before cupping your breasts in each hand.

“Bride!?”

Alastor ignored your outburst and forced you into another kiss. His hands massaged your chest. He moaned at the feel of you underneath him, how soft you were. The fact that you were all his now, oh, he was going to savior this moment.

He held you down as you kept trying to push him away. How cute, you were playing hard to get. He continued to kiss you until you eventually kissed him back, you didn’t want to but it seemed like he wasn’t going to stop until you did.

A string of saliva formed at the bottom of each of your lips as he pulled away, “Let’s get these clothes off, shall we?”

“Wait, I’m a…”

“A what, my love?”

“A virgin.”

You regretted saying that as it only seemed to make him even more aroused. He licked his lips even. A hunger rose from deep inside of him.

“Oh. Isn’t that lovely? I get to be the first and only man to make love to you,” he smiled a slightly psychotic smile.

“Wait!” You pleaded as he began removing your dress.

He suddenly stroked that special place between your legs which led you to moan uncontrollably. Your body betrayed you.

“Don’t worry, ma Cherie. I will be gentle. I promise,” he gave you a reassuring kiss before unbuckling his belt.

[lurochar]

By the Full Moon

18+ MDNI

The Radio Demon finds a spell to go back in time to reacquaint himself with his wife. His past human self is more than willing to help.

Demon Alastor x Reader x Human Alastor

Warnings: Demon Alastor mainly referred to as Radio Demon to differentiate between human Alastor. Established relationship between Alastor and Reader. OOCness. PWP. Aphrodisiacs. Lame title. Basically pure indulgence here. I haven't written anything in a while and smut even longer, so I apologize if it's bad.

----

You were worried.

Truthly speaking, you had no reason to worry as Alastor was more than capable of taking care of himself and even more so since he had his hunting rifle with him and more than likely his hunting knife, but you just could not help yourself.

After all, that murderer now labeled the Bayou Butcher was still on the loose and law enforcement had no clue as to who the killer was.

It was a silly worry since Alastor was still on the property simply storing away his hunting rifle in the shed a little ways from the main house, but it seemed like he was taking far too long to do so.

You could not help but to pace near the front door, knowing that once Alastor finally came back, he would just give you his signature smile and laugh at your apprehension all while calming your nerves down with a single stroke down the side of your cheek with his thumb.

‘He’s fine.’ You thought, breathing in deeply as you attempted to calm your pacing. ‘There's no need to worry like this. He will be back any moment.’ You nodded your head with your thoughts, finally able to stop your body from your frantic movements.

And it was only a few minutes later that you heard the key to the front door being inserted before it swung open and you instantly perked up. “Alastor!” You called out to your husband in relief, quickly moving towards him, your mind registering the radio static in the air before your body did and you abruptly froze, watching stunned as not one, but a second figure entered the house.

“Darling! I apologize for taking so long!” Alastor opened his arms, wrapping them around you and observing you closely as you trembled like an adorable newborn fawn, just as he – they expected you would. “I didn’t expect to meet such fine company outside our humble little abode here! Such a riveting conversation we had!”

Red eyes stared hungrily into yours.

“I–” You stammered, shakily peering over Alastor’s broad shoulder to look at the… otherworldly being currently standing in you and your husband’s house. “W-what– w-who is that?” You could not help the tremble in your voice.

“Hmmm,” Alastor stroked your hair, seemingly trying to find the right words. “Funny enough, this gentleman’s name is also Alastor. Isn't that just a neat coincidence?” 

“What?” You looked to Alastor weakly, knowing his name was not exactly the most common of names out there. “But that’s…”

“Do excuse my rude manners,” the ‘other’ Alastor suddenly spoke and his voice possessed the exact same tone, accent, and cadence as when your Alastor spoke on air on the radio, “but I simply had to stop when I noticed your lovely house, my dear! Why, it looks the exact same as the home I once owned many years ago! So I hope you don’t mind me dropping in unannounced like this.” He began to move closer and you shivered in your husband’s hold, “It’s a pleasure, quite the pleasure, my little Doe. I’m Alastor, the Radio Demon.”

.

.

.

What!?!?

“D-demon?” You swallowed thickly, tightening your grip in Alastor’s coat as you took in the ‘Radio Demon’s’ features. He certainly was not human, that was for sure and with those tall ears (and tiny antlers?), you almost wanted to say he was almost deer-like, but those utterly massive fangs, razor-sharp claws, and terrifying smile had you second guessing yourself.

“Remarkable, isn’t it?” Alastor murmured in your ear. “A demon straight from Hell, he says. Who would have thought Hell actually existed?” He chuckled, but you barely heard a word he said.

A demon.

A demon was standing in your house.

A demon named Alastor.

“W-wha…” You faltered, whimpering when the Radio Demon stepped in front of you and in your personal space before you could even respond. “W-what’s happening?”

“You have no idea, my darling Y/N, how long I’ve waited for this.” Demon Alastor’s tipped your face upwards with his deadly claws rather gently to get you to look at his face (and wow, was he ever so very tall), “How many decades it took for me to find a spell that could break the laws of time, just so I could see you again.”

Your mind was racing, but ultimately, could not keep up with the situation.

Decades? Spells? Laws of time? Demons? Hell? 

What was all of this? Did you fall asleep waiting for Alastor to come back and were just having some bizarre dream? 

“It's not a dream, my love.” Alastor seemed to know what you were thinking as he began to nuzzle the crook of your neck. “I didn't quite believe it either, but he knows things about me that none other could, including you.”

“T-Then you're saying–” You could not even finish your words and you jumped when the Radio Demon's claws tightened around your cheeks, not enough to cause pain but enough to get your immediate attention. “T-that you… you’re–!”

“Figured it out, my darling Doe?” The Radio Demon’s grin stretched inhumanly wide. “I'm sure you have, you always were quite clever, my dear, but in case you haven't…”

Your heart pounded.

“Yes, I am Alastor Hartfelt, your husband. A denizen of Hell for decades now, though I have done well if I do say so for myself. I am a Demon Overlord, the Radio Demon. The year, I believe, was 2024 when I last checked.”

2024?!?

Alastor whistled lowly from your shoulder as you gaped in disbelief at the Radio Demon in front of you.

Was he really saying that he came back in time by almost a century?! 

How was any of this even possible?

“You shouldn't be this baffled, Darling.” Alastor spoke, moving from your shoulder to kiss your cheek. “I, too, would do anything to find my way back to you, even break the laws of time and space. So why wouldn't my future dead self do the same?”

Wait.

“Am I not there with you?”

The Radio Demon chuckled, his hand now affectionately caressing the side of your face. “Perhaps you missed the part about my being in Hell?” His hand slowly slid down your body to your hip, causing you to shiver. “My darling Doe, you do not reside in Hell and have no place in it.”

A sudden surge of bravery rushed through you. “Then why are you there? You're a good man, Alastor! A perfect husband! Why would you get sent to… to Hell?!”

Alastor tightened his arms around you from behind and the Radio Demon squeezed down on your hip at the question.

“The spell will only last for the night as long as the moon is full on Earth.” The Radio Demon’s smile looked tense and his fangs were gritting. “I would much prefer getting reacquainted with my lovely wife than with frivolous chatter.”

And even if he did answer, he did not intend to leave your memories of this night intact.

This was not his preferred method, but he knew his Y/N would not let the topic of either Alastor’s fate go, so there was no other choice lest he allow the night waste away.

Alastor caught the eye of his past human self and nodded, having discussed this back at the shed where they had met as a possible option should it need to be one.

It was crude and vulgar, but Alastor was desperate with the need to touch your flesh once more and if he had to kick start things with a light aphrodisiac (one not made by the Vees), he would.

Your Alastor slowly reached into his pocket, slipping out a vial of clear liquid. He carefully uncapped it while you trembled against him, repeating your question in apparent shock at the knowledge that your husband was destined for Hell.

“Ma chérie.” Your Alastor turned you to face him before he downed the contents of the vial and immediately kissed you after. He glanced up to see his demon self step up behind you, caging you in between them so you could not back away from his kiss.

You let out a strange noise, feeling Alastor's tongue swipe in your mouth as you unconsciously opened your lips for him and a sweet liquid seeped in that you had no choice but to swallow.

Oh.

You were suddenly warm.

Your body was hot.

Your nerves felt like they were on fire.

“W-w-what’s this?” You babbled, completely forgetting about Hell as you began to ache between your legs, “H-hah…”

“It’s alright, Darling.” Alastor was quick to come to your comfort, rubbing your shoulders and even that innocent touch sent sparks of pleasure straight down to your core. “Just let it happen and everything will be fine.”

“I must admit, it is not my proudest idea.” The Radio Demon seemed to sigh from behind you, his large claw-tipped hands back firmly on your hips. “Surely you understand, my little Doe, that it needed to be done. You were much too tense and I only have hours to spare.”

Your head was fuzzy and you honestly did not understand a damn word of what either Alastor was saying.

You just wanted relief and the ache to leave.

“Don't worry your pretty little head about anything right now.” Alastor cooed, “I would take care of you, but I'm sure our guest here has been waiting for so very long now.” He smirked. “I'll join in a little later.”

“I can smell you, my dear.” The Radio Demon purred, his hands moving from your hips as he ran a single claw up the side of your dress, ripping through it with ease and you could not find it in yourself to care about the ruined dress at the moment. “You're dripping. Naughty girl.”

Had you been in your right mind, you would have been completely embarrassed by such a thing, and you let out a pathetic little whine when the Radio Demon began to kneel in front of you, with his massive hands gripping your soft inner thighs.

Your underwear was ripped off a second later and you did not see the Radio Demon pocketing the arousal-soaked cloth before he turned back to you.

“Ah, it's been decades since I've eaten one in this way.” The Radio Demon hummed, releasing one thigh to slowly slide his hand up to your leaking core. He found your clit with ease, slowly rubbing circles with the pad of his thumb, extremely mindful of his claw, “Though, of course, you are the only one I have done such things with.”

You cried out at the touch, feeling like a jolt of electricity had just run through you. “P-please!” You sniffled, unsure what to call this being - Alastor or Radio Demon?

The Radio Demon grinned up at you and you were too lost in arousal to flinch back at the sight of those fangs, “Please what, my little fawn? Use your words.”

“Eat me.”

The Radio Demon groaned. “You know me too well without even seeing the entire picture.” He surged forward, abandoning your clit momentarily to part your folds before taking in a deep intoxicated breath.

You bit down on your hand, trying to keep your yelps and moans down as the Radio Demon shoved his face in your pussy, his rather long tongue fucking up into your soaked hole as his nose rubbed against your clit, sparking pleasureable warmth throughout your lower half. 

“Now, now. None of that.” Alastor came up behind you, wrapping his arms around you and gently pulling your hand away from your mouth. “I– we both want to hear you.”

The Radio Demon crooned, pressing his face closer, feeling his wife tremble against him, “That's it. Cum on my tongue. I would like to get to the main course as quickly as possible.”

You shook, feeling Alastor's hands cup your breasts, pinching and rubbing your nipples as he nibbled on the lobe of your ear while the Radio Demon slurped your slick and suckled your sensitive nub.

A strangled sound left you when one of Alastor’s hands trailed down your side, sliding down your stomach before he slid a finger into your soaking cunt, bending his finger just so he would hit that spot that had you seeing stars and cumming far too early to be normal after a few more jabs to that spot.

The Radio Demon eagerly lapped up your gush of slick, not stopping even as you began to shudder from overstimulation.

“Does it feel good, chérie?” Alastor asked with a flush rising on his own face as his wife writhed in his hold while the Radio Demon did not relent in his own assault. He humped up against you, reaching down to his belt and zipper to free his aching cock. 

“S'good.” You slurred, panting when you felt Alastor slide in another finger, scissoring them to stretch you. “Alastor.” You sighed, leaning against him as you reached down.

“You needn't worry about me.” Alastor inhaled sharply once you wrapped your soft hands around his length. “Darling, this is about you.”

“I want you.” You moaned, your fingers fondling the head of his cock, spreading his precum down the length of his shaft. “I-if he really is you,” it took everything out of you just to string a coherent sentence together, “I want you both.”

“You heard our darling little Doe.” The Radio Demon finally pulled away from your cunt as he eyed his past mortal self, “As much as I hunger to do so, I cannot prepare Y/N properly without the potential of injury.”

Just a glance towards those sharp claws was an answer enough.

Alastor wasted no time and pushed in a third finger, jamming them against that sweet spot of yours and you cried out, no longer able to focus on your husband’s pleasure, though he did not mind at all.

 “What a face you’re making, Darling,” he murmured into your ear, “Not a single thought in your head, is there? Are you drooling on yourself?” His eyes darkened as his sadistic side began to show and, finally, he was able to slide in a fourth finger, “Do you know how fucked out you look right now? If that wasn’t me in front of you, I would have had to kill him for seeing you like this.”

It was fine, saying such things as you were not coherent enough to even understand him right now and the Radio Demon would take your memories of this night away anyway.

“Four fingers? My my, how debauched you are, my sweet Doe.” The Radio Demon was at your other ear, whispering just as filthy things as Alastor was, “You can take it, can’t you? You are my– our wife, after all. All you need to do is let go and cum on your husband’s fingers and then you can have all the cock you want, for the rest of the night.” He reached down, finding your clit and only needing to stroke the bud twice before you reached your high.

Your mouth could not even form words as your wet slick pussy contracted rhythmically around Alastor’s fingers, trying to milk them as you blacked out for the briefest of moments. Your limbs were like jelly and the only reason you did not collapse was because Alastor had propped you against his body.

“Still in there, my love?” Alastor patted your sweaty face, smiling when your glazed eyes fluttered open and you whimpered when he slowly pulled his fingers from your sopping hole, “You’ve done wonderfully thus far.”

“I–” It took so much just to think, “I want to–to…” Why couldn’t you think of the words to say? Your body was still burning even after cumming twice and that felt a bit frightening to you.

“As I said, you don’t need to worry about me. I have you to myself every night.” Alastor repeated, glancing over your head, allowing a lazy smirk to appear on his face, “But if you really want to repay the favour, I’m sure our guest would be delighted.” He just shrugged when the Radio Demon narrowed his red eyes at him.

You turned your head and peered timidly at the Radio Demon. The static in the air seemed to grow louder the longer you stared and his smile only seemed to stretch even wider.

“I'll even help you.” Alastor wrapped an arm around your waist and slung your arm around his shoulders, making sure you were steady, even as your legs shook like a newborn fawn’s as he guided you to stand in front of the Radio Demon.“Here you are.” He was quick to remove his overcoat, placing it on the floor for the comfort of his dear wife’s knees.

“This is unnecessary.” The Radio Demon stated, though the changes to his body said differently – his sclera turning pitch black, his antlers quickly extending outwards. He had to forcibly stop his body from growing larger, knowing his wife's human body would not be able to take anymore than what he was now.

“Please.” You kneeled in front of the Radio Demon, still a bit wary of him, but the aphrodisiac still running through you won over anything else, “You… you're still my Alastor, right?” Your hands shook as you attempted to loosen the belt of the Radio Demon.

“Yes, in life and in death. I am always yours.” The Radio Demon's usual filtered tone disappeared for a moment as he ripped off his belt with ease and he pulled his pants down low enough that his cock could spring free.

You leaned into him, feeling his hands run through your hair in a gentle gesture before they were gone from your head. You straightened on your knees, reaching up and feeling yourself jump a little in shock the moment you realized you couldn't fully wrap your hand around the Radio Demon's cock.

Was everything that much bigger when one was sent to Hell?

“Think nothing of it, my little Doe.” The Radio Demon cooed down at you, “I am completely content if you only wish to suck on my cock - the part that fits in your sweet little mouth, that is. I will not fuck your throat.”

The dull ache between your legs seemed to roar back to life at his words and you moved forward, opening your mouth, feeling the Radio Demon step a little closer until the head of his cock was resting on your tongue.

Your lips closed around his glans, your tongue prodded at the slit and you heard the Radio Demon growl as the static grew louder. Your head moved forward, wondering how much you could fit in your mouth before you started gagging.

“No, no.” Large hands on each side of your head stopped you from going further, “Do not test my self control, my dear. I said you may only suck. You are much too fragile for me to fuck that delicate throat of yours.”

You look up at the Radio Demon, barely noticing in your lustful haze that his pupils have shifted into a shape that resembled radio dials as you tightened your lips around the impressive cock in your mouth and sucked hard.

It was utterly obscene and Alastor watched with fascination as large amounts of saliva seeped from the crevices from your lips to drool down all over the Radio Demon's shaft, your jaw and chin, only to land on your chest in sticky globs. The static from the Radio Demon could not drown out the sloppy wet slurps of your tongue.

“That's it. Thaaaat's it.” The Radio Demon purred, “Such a lovely wife I have, so willing to suck the cock of her demon husband. Even wanting me to fuck my cock down her throat. How filthy! Are you truly that desperate for my seed? Suck harder, my dear.”

You tried, tightening your lips, hollowing your cheeks and sucking as best as you could until your jaw ached. You wanted to bob your head to make it a little easier, but the Radio Demon’s hands made it impossible to move. You began to hum, hoping the vibrations would aid you in getting him off.

“My sweet fawn. So depraved, just for me. Salivating all over yourself like a dog to please me.” One of his hands moved down to stroke at your cheek. “You are doing exceptionally well, such a good girl for me. Keep your mouth open.”

Your face burned at the Radio Demon’s words as you gasped for air when he pulled back from you, though you kept your mouth slack as he asked and found yourself shuddering when thick loads of cum landed on your tongue and didn’t seem to stop.

The Radio Demon watched with greedy eyes as you struggled with the volume of his seed, having to swallow a few times over and even then, remnants dripped off your lips towards your chest, “I should punish you for wasting a part of me that no other will ever have, my dear, but there is no time for that this night.” His grin widened, “Perhaps, should the spell work on the next full moon…” He tucked himself back into his pants, though didn't bother zipping them back up.

“I admit I never thought I would witness such a sight.” Alastor stepped forward from his position of observation, kneeling down as he reached for his handkerchief from his pocket and began to gently wipe your face from the cum and drool. “I certainly was not opposed to it.” He said quickly to reassure you when your eyes seemed to widen.

The Radio Demon did mention that the aphrodisiac would wear off once you took semen in your body. How fast it would diminish depended on how much semen you took in, in a certain amount of time.

“While I’m sure our guest appreciated the appetizers, I’m sure he is starved for the main course.” Alastor uncaringly tossed the dirtied handkerchief to the floor, helping you stand. “We would be such rude hosts to make him wait any longer.”

“I– of course.” You replied, looking towards the Radio Demon with a little less hesitancy than before, “You know where our… our bedroom is?” You asked almost shyly.

“I remember every single detail of this house as if I lived in it just yesterday,” The Radio Demon’s smile softened for a split second before it sharpened once more and he offered you his hand, “Shall we, then? You may want to close your eyes for this.”

You took it reluctantly, unsure what he meant by that last statement. You felt Alastor rub your back as he nestled you up to his side and you let out a shocked gasp as you all seemed to sink down in the floor into a void of black before emerging only a moment later right in front of your bed, “W-what was that!?” Your nerves weren’t burning as hot as they were earlier, but that strange sensation certainly was not helping your dizzied mind.

“Fascinating.” Alastor simply said under his breath.

“Instant shadow travel.” The Radio Demon answered nonchalantly, “It really is nothing to be impressed by.” He turned back to you, not wanting you to get distracted now that your mind was a bit clearer, “Darling Y/N, why don’t I show you how much I truly missed you over the decades?”

Your eyes unconsciously teared up at that.

The Radio Demon stalked forward, forcing you backward until your back hit the mattress. He took in the lovely sight of his wife spread on what used to be his bed before he was caging you in with his much larger body, “Every single night, whether or not I sleep, I think of you, dream of you. How exasperating that I still pine for you even after all these years, but I suppose you were the only one I felt any affection for – l̵̨͔̗̩̯̮͔̜̋̎́̃̐ͩ̓ͦo̿͂v̸̷̳̬̭̝͔͍͙͈̇̌̈́͟e̞̰̩̋̂̚͝ even – after Mother died.”

He could confess this much, as you would not remember this when it was time for him to leave.

“So you really are me.” Alastor murmured from the side of the bed, slowly undoing his tie, “That’s right. Y/N was there from the start – what do the masses call it, childhood lovers or such nonsense? It was only Y/N. None other would do.” He almost scoffed at his next thought. “Maybe soulmates do exist after all.”

“If you really are Alastor,” your arms rose and you placed your hands on both sides of his face and his entire expression softened and his smile wobbled, “then I'm so sorry that I'm causing you any pain.” A tear slid down your face from your already watery eyes. “I'm sure there are many…uhh, demons who are interes–” A claw-tipped finger pressed against your lips, cutting you off from what you were about to say.

“Even parted, what remains of my cold dead heart still beats for you, my lovely wife. I will never stray.” The Radio Demon leaned down to lick the tear from your cheek, causing you to shudder.

“Even if we wanted to fool around,” Alastor was now unbuttoning his shirt, taking his time to undress, “which, Darling, I can assure you, we do not, our bodies are simply not interested in any other. Woman, man – it doesn't matter how attractive they may be, if it's not you, I cannot get aroused. I'm sure it's the same for our guest.”

You felt your face flush and wanted to hide from the embarrassingly sweet words, but you were trapped under the Radio Demon, who was staring down intently at your reaction.

“You know I love you, Alastor! I have since we were children!” You tried to cover your face, but the Radio Demon grasped your wrists before you could.

He settled more on top of you, aligning your lower bits as he ground his clothed erection against your slick sensitive skin. “Say it again.” He groaned, “Say it.”

The static was almost deafening now.

“Best do what he asks, Darling.” Alastor was now removing his pants, having moved to the top of the bed so he could observe his wife's expression. “I'll never tire of hearing it either.”

“I love you, Alastor. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you!” Your face was burning red as the Radio Demon reached down to fish his cock free from his unzipped pants, “Not even death can do us part!”

That had been the one line you and Alastor had changed at your wedding, but…

“You don't belong in Hell, my sweet fawn.” The Radio Demon grasped your hip and gripped the base of his cock, your legs spreading as he rubbed his shaft through your creamy folds, causing you to shiver and moan, “While I may crave your presence every day, I prefer to know that you are safe where you belong.”

Your head tossed to the side as the Radio Demon slowly began to penetrate you and your eyes opened in surprise when you felt lips pressing against yours. “Alastor?” You panted, feeling your silky walls being stretched more than they ever have before. He was bigger than anything you had ever taken before.

“You will adjust in a few moments, ma cher. It won't hurt or feel uncomfortable for much longer.” Alastor stated, staring at the scene in front of him and feeling a heat settle deep under his stomach.

He wanted to join, but he did not want to push his dear wife any further than you were comfortable with. Plus, you and he had never ventured to that area before either.

The Radio Demon’s eyes glanced up at Alastor for a brief moment before setting down back onto you as he finally slid in all the way to the hilt, “Fuck, I haven't even moved yet and you're already clenching down on me so tightly.”

“S'big!” You almost felt like you were being split in two and you whined when the Radio Demon slowly withdrew, caressing every sensitive spot before he swiftly thrust back in, “HAH!” You were seeing stars as he found a rhythm, “S'good!”

Alastor watched with slight envy, but it quickly changed to confusion when the Radio Demon gave him some sort of look before focusing back on you.

Was he supposed to know what that meant?

It was only a few seconds later that a long black tentacle-like appendage snapped out of the Radio Demon's back and Alastor found himself surprised for the nth time that night, even by this point, he shouldn't be.

It seemed that you were already too fucked out again to notice the extra appendage as the Radio Demon flipped you over to your stomach, positioning you on all fours as he maneuvered over top of you, pressing his chest to your back as his hips thrust blindly, seeking your warm wet hole.

He used the lone tentacle (that you still have yet to notice, but you would very shortly) to wrap around his length, guiding it back to your slick cunt. He growled, loud static popping in the air, drool dripping off his fangs as he humped you like the deer he resembled.

You are so lost in pleasure, gasping and wheezing, that it takes a few moments for you to realize that there's something prodding you back there, “W-wha?” You swallow thickly, feeling something cool circle and lightly push at your other hole, causing you to flinch, “W-what is that? Alastor?” You whimper.

It took a second for the Radio Demon to come to his senses, especially when you were squeezing down so tightly on his cock. “My little Doe, it must be done if you wish to take both of us. Surely you want that. It's not often one can fuck two forms of their spouse at the same time.” The tentacle began to breach the rim of your second hole and you let out pained noise.

Alastor moved on the bed, stroking your hair and kissing your temple, “I know, Darling, I know.” He reached underneath you when the Radio Demon resumed his crude humping, finding your clit with a bit of difficulty due to the constant rocking. “If you truly do need to stop, say ‘jambalaya’ and we will.”

This was for Alastor and a few minutes of total discomfort should not stop you.

“How's it feel?” Alastor asked, curious as he had never touched that area before.

“H-hah,” you felt sweat drip down your face, trying to answer your husband’s question, but the sensations of the Radio Demon's cock hitting every sensitive spot in your sloppy cunt, Alastor’s fingers strumming along your puffy clit, and the slippery tentacle now an inch or two in, squirming against the walls of your ass?

You crumbled.

“Fuck!” The Radio Demon snarled, halting his movements as he felt you cumming hard around him. His ears twitched at the sound of your wailing and he summoned another tentacle out of his back, using it to hold your shaking body up against his as he clenched his hands in the sheets below, claws easily ripping through the material.

As he completely avoided any sexual activity during his time in Hell, the Radio Demon found he was a lot more sensitive than he recalled and simply having you suck him for a few moments and cumming once on his cock was enough for him to lose it.

It took all of his self control to not finish so early as he focused on his tentacles and stretching your other hole slowly but surely.

Alastor watched with exhilaration that he only experienced when he was pounding you into the bed, or watching the life fade out of the eyes out of some degenerate after hunting them down, and after your keening quieted down, he found himself surprised that he was stroking himself, something he never partook in.

“Do you think you are able to take me, my love?” Alastor asked after a moment of allowing you to catch your breath, though you still looked a little out of it, still caged under the Radio Demon’s much larger body – looking helpless, small, and stuffed full of cock.

He needed to stuff you with more.

“I… I think? Maybe?” You lifted your head to look at Alastor, watching him smile at you and you bit your lip when you felt that strange appendage slowly pull out of your ass and you grimaced at the sudden feeling of emptiness?

The Radio Demon squeezed your hips and also pulled out of you, sitting you on the bed as he snapped his fingers and you jumped, feeling your body tingle for a second before it disappeared and you felt strangely lighter, “W-what was that?” You asked as he snapped his fingers again and a small bottle appeared in his hand out of nowhere

“I cleansed you,” The Radio Demon simply stated, not wanting to get into the finer details of anal sex and embarrass you, “You will need this, my dear. Use as much as you need.” He handed his past self the bottle and eyed him expectantly.

“Extra lubrication.” Alastor said, snapping the lid open and squeezing it out on his fingers, rubbing them together experimentally, “It’s needed so I don’t, well… tear anything.” He grasped your hand, unfolding it. “Aid me, won’t you, Darling?” His voice grew a little sultry as he squeezed the lube out on your hand.

You flushed, reaching down as your hand wrapped around Alastor’s cock, trying to spread the lube evenly as you jerked his shaft, causing him to sigh with contentment, feeling your hand glide smoothly, “I believe that’s enough. Your turn. Turn around for me and either lie down on your stomach or get on all fours – whichever is more comfortable for you.”

You say Alastor’s eyes flash and knew what position he would prefer, but despite your embarrassment, you got on all fours like you knew he wanted and you spread your legs as much as you could.

“Bear with it.” Alastor felt his heart race as your head lowered when he squeezed the lube out and you shivered when you felt his slick fingers begin to prod at your ass, passing the tight rim after a few nudging of his fingers.

It still felt strange, but Alastor tried to make up for it with slow firm thrusts and filthy words.

“Darling, I know you will feel so good squeezed around me. I never imagined you would be so receptive to the idea. I can’t wait to see what sort of face you will make this time for me. Taking both of our cocks at once, perhaps you will cum so hard, you will soak the sheets? Forget your own name?”

You whined, feeling your face flame.

“I have done what I can to prepare you.” Alastor removed his fingers from your back hole, “Now go over to our guest. I believe you will have to ride him in order for this to work.”

The Radio Demon's smile seemed to twitch at Alastor's remark, but he did lean back and prop himself against the pillows so you were able to straddle him – which you only did so after a pause from you and a nod from him.

“Not yet, my dear, though I appreciate the enthusiasm.” The Radio Demon chuckled, stopping you from gripping him and just sliding down his cock, “It's best for my past self to go first.”

Alastor moved over to you, stroking your back in a soothing manner, “Remember what to say if you want to stop.” He said with a slight frown and it lifted when you repeated ‘jambalaya’ back to him, “I'll go slow.” He gripped himself, watching as the Radio Demon oh-so kindly spread you (and you letting out a cute squeak) and he lowered himself until he felt skin on skin.

You tensed, trying best to calm down when felt the head of his cock prod at your ass, just resting there until you relaxed enough that he could press forward. “Haahhmmm.” Strange noises escaped you as Alastor slowly proceeded, stopped, rocked back and forth a few times, before repeating.

“My little Doe, breathe.” The Radio Demon trailed his hands down your sides, moving towards your dripping core to find your aching clit to help alleviate any discomfort with pleasure, “It won't be long now, my dear. You will be, as an effeminate fellow acquaintance of mine likes to say, ‘cockdrunk’ soon enough.”

You groaned, not only from the Radio Demon's words, but from feeling full. Yet you felt empty at the same time as your pussy clenched nothing but air.

Arms wrapped around you from behind as Alastor buried his head in your shoulder, breathing hard while sweat dripped off his face. “Shit.”

You were so fucking tight – to the point he ridiculously feared you might squeeze his cock right off.

“Prepare yourself.” The Radio Demon purred, lining his length up with your dripping cunt, “Or perhaps you needn't to. There won't be a single thought in that pretty little head of yours.” And with that, he thrust in carefully, knowing he and his past self had to find a rhythm that would not cause their wife any pain.

“A-Al–” You mewled, feeling tears forming in the corners of your eyes, “A-Ala–” You couldn't even talk straight anymore.

Alastor grit his teeth, thrusting in when the Radio Demon pulled back. His wife was tight, hot, and he could feel the Radio Demon through the thin membrane.

He wasn't going to last long.

“Such a perverse wife I have! Tell me, how does fucking two cocks at once feel?” The Radio Demon's smile turned sadistic, seeing that you couldn't even comprehend his question and his hand came up to wipe the drool seeping from your mouth and watched with satisfaction as your eyes rolled to the back of your head when he began circling your clit, “Are you going to cum, my dear? Should I allow it?”

You babbled nonsense, not hearing a word anyone was saying as you were sandwiched between your present husband and his future demon self and only able to focus on the molten heat in your core.

In.

Out.

In.

Out.

Both were big (though the Radio Demon was bigger in that department), so with every thrust, they hit every spot that brought stars to your closed eyes.

Someone was rubbing circles on your slick clit and the other was fondling your breasts. Teeth nibbled at the lobe of your ear and sharp fangs and a long tongue were dragging along your skin dangerously close towards your throat.

It was the hand that pressed down hard on your pelvis that had you come undone.

Were you screaming? You didn't know as the world blurred and you could feel nothing but ecstasy shoot through every part of your trembling body and the afterpangs were just as pleasant to feel as you slumped down, barely even conscious after the many orgasms you had experienced that night.

“Fuck!” The Radio Demon knew he would not be able to stave off this as your vevelty walls clamped down on his cock and he looked down in shock, unconsciously licking his lips when he noticed you were squirting all over him.

This sight alone had him shooting spurt after spurt of ejaculate into your gushing pussy.

Alastor simply observed all this happen, having pulled halfway out of your ass so he could wrap his hand around the base of his cock to delay his orgasm, though he no longer needed to. 

He released his hand, thrusting forward as deep he could go in your ass. He was already on the edge, waiting to tip over and just the tightness of your anal walls squeezing him was enough to send him over, shooting his load of cum into you with a satisfied groan.

Both you and Alastor collapsed on the bed as the Radio Demon shifted so there was more room, though after a brief moment of silence other than heavy breathing, both males looked towards you as they grudgingly pulled out of you, eyeing the leaking mess they made of you with fervor.

You only had so much stamina however.

And–

“You did so well, my love.” Alastor brushed your hair from your face, kissing your temple when you attempted to focus your glazed eyes towards him, “Only you could satisfy us so.” He lightly pinched your cheek to keep you awake when they began fluttering.

A glass of water appeared in the Radio Demon’s hand as he sat up, propping your back up against his chest as he brought the glass up to your lips and tilted your head up, “Don’t drink it too fast, my dear.” He instructed, appeased when you slowly swallowed the water down and he vanished the glass, relishing the feel of your skin against his.

It was time for him to leave.

“My sweet wife, it took me decades to find the spell so I could see you again,” the Radio Demon stated and he felt you stiffen against him, “I am uncertain if it will work again or if this was a one time occurrence, but know that this night was to my utmost delight. I must say, simply seeing your lovely face satisfied me as much as–m̨̻̪̣̹̙̰̦͇̏͒̅͒ͪ͝ơ̧̛̛̗͍̝̣̜̺͉̜̜̩̥̈́̋ͫ̌̽͐̅̔̍̋́́̏̇ͧ̀͘͘̚͜͜͢͝ŕ̛̝̺̖̬̰ͫͨ̆͌͛̾ͭ̈̾̉̌ͯ͞e̸̙͕̯̻̘͈̋ͩ̑ͦ́͟ ţ̶̟̯̻̘͍͓̯̈̂h̿ͮ͘a̶̸̲̣͖̻̦̜ͯ̉͌ͣ͂̈́͞n͙̳̍ͫ–the screams of the souls I rip apart on my broadcasts all over Hell!”

What?

“You’re leaving?” The Radio Demon’s words snapped you to attention in more than one way, but you put those rather disturbing words aside for that moment to focus on his departure. 

Your mind was clear and your body was no longer burning and you should be honestly terrified that there was a demon from Hell wrapped around you now that you could think straight, but he was still your husband.

He was still Alastor.

“Regretfully so.” The Radio Demon gently removed you from himself, standing from the bed as you stared at him with those wide eyes of yours. He snapped his fingers, fixing his appearance to his usual pristine condition and dressing you and Alastor with a second snap, causing you and his past self to jump in shock to his amusement.

“But…” You bit your lip, feeling it wobble as you looked between the Radio Demon and Alastor, “Why… why are you in Hell? You never told me.” Your voice started to crack.

Alastor clenched his fists and looked away from you and the Radio Demon’s static grew louder at the question, “I am certain you will find out the reason why in the future.” After all, he did leave you a widow after his unexpected and pathetic death and it most certainly got out how he brutally murdered and engaged in occasional cannibalism – he just had no idea how you felt about him after that all came to be.

Did you still love him afterwards as you lived the rest of your mortal life?

Did you still love him in Heaven as an angel?

“I told you, Alastor,” you seemed to notice the tone in the Radio Demon’s filtered voice, “I love you, since we were children. Not even death can do us part.”

Alastor inhaled sharply and the Radio Demon eyed him for a second before turning back to you, “If this spell does not work for the next full moon on Earth, I must bid you adieu.” He moved forward, bending down to press a kiss against your forehead.

There was a flash of green light and you fell forward, unconscious and memories of the night gone. 

The Radio Demon caught you, stroking your side before placing you on the bed and turned to his past self, his smile tightening.

“Well, what an interesting night this has been!” Alastor tilted his head, appearing thoughtful, “I admit I never believed in Heaven or Hell, but clearly I was wrong about that. Good to know that Mother is where she belongs and that I will kill that wretch of a man all over again.”

“His screams of agony were most entertaining. Why, I could listen to them over and over again and never tire of them!” The Radio Demon let out a puff of amusement, fondly remembering torturing the man whom he once had to call ‘father’.

“I suppose if that spell of yours works again, you’ll be a familiar face here every full moon?” Alastor asked casually, “I’m not opposed.” 

The Radio Demon held out his hand, much to Alastor’s surprise, “Yes, I would. Just a friendly shake, no deal here. I don’t think I can take my own soul.”

Alastor took the Radio Demon’s hand after a moment of hesitation, shaking it firmly before his eyes widened as the same green light flashed and, he too, fell forward, unconscious with his memories of the night gone.

“I can’t have you dragging our lovely wife into your depraved acts now. I saw how Y/N’s words affected you.” The Radio Demon placed his past self on the bed beside you, staring at the couple, “Our darling Doe doesn’t belong in Hell. I would like to keep it that way.”

He vanished with the moonlight.

[hazbinhotelxreader]

Velvette x female model reader smut

“Good Job Doll~”

A/n: damn yall like these writing huh? Well I ain’t stopping you lol! I hope this was alright!

(Requested by: egg boi on AO3)

Warning: mean/soft velvette, bottom reader, fingering, rough sex, voice kink, hair tugging(light), cussing, touching bodies sexually without permission, praise kink, soft sex, eating someone out, gay sex

You were a model for velvette. Just a girl trying to make some cash, well you thought. It turns out your velvettes ‘favorite’ model. She’s always making excuses and firing her other models so your her main focus. At first you honestly thought it was just a friendship thing, but you slowly started to realize it wasn’t, it was more….sexual.

It started off with simple touches and praises, playing with your hair or touching your curves playfully, then it got more demanding. And her words sounded more sexual and suggestive. You didn’t mind it though, you kinda enjoyed the attention from the young overlord, she never failed to make you blush.

One day she came into the dressing room with you and handed you an outfit. “Try this on please darling, I need to see how absolutely stunning you’ll look in it.” She flirted lightly. She handed you a short dress that had her signature colors.

“Yes ma’am.” You obey your boss. You strip off your clothes, getting undressed in front of her was normal for all the models. Velvette was scanning and looking at every inch of your body secretly as you put the short dress on.

She walked over to you and smirked. “Oh it looks gorgeous! We have to take a picture” she said and pulled out her phone for a selfie, wrapping her arm around your waist tightly, making you blush. She takes the picture and giggled a little. “Oh you look so adorable in this picture!”

“Thank you..” you say sheepishly. She seemed to notice your nervousness and smirked.

“Oh come now dear, your gorgeous. In fact. I can show you how gorgeous you truly are~” she said seductively as she traced your breasts. You couldn’t help but blush, even if this was normal. Before you could speak up she grabbed your hips and forced you onto the vanity.

“What are you doing?” You ask Velvette, blushing intensely.

“Giving you an award for your hard work dear~” she said seductively, her accent felt so nice to hear with that tone..you didn’t try to get away or anything..you stayed there, you couldn’t help but admit you wanted it..and velvette noticed.

“Oh? You’re a good girl aren’t you? Allowing your hot, stunning boss to award you~?” Velvette smirked and started to grope your breast, causing you to let out a soft gasp in pleasure. “There we go..” Velvette smirked, and didn’t hold back. She started to kiss you hungrily, she’s been waiting for this moment for so long, and she finally had you at her mercy.

You moan and kiss back, carefully caressing her face as she did so. Velvette’s tongue forcefully entered your mouth and you moaned and closed your eyes, your tongues swirling and intertwining together. She pulled away, strands of saliva connecting your lips, and looked at your body more.

You pant at the kiss, trying to catch your breath but she started to kiss you again more tough, causing you to tug and keep a tight grasp on her hair and whimper. She chuckled lightly at the whimper, loving the soft noises you made.

She moved fast, pushing you all the way up to the vanity mirror with how much force she was using to kiss you, eventually open mouth kissing, your tongues still mixing together. She finally pulled away, allowing you to catch your breath, but not for long. She immediately got on her knees and put her head under the dress she made you put on earlier. You blush and spoke up. “U-uh what are you doing..?”

“Oh don’t worry dear..I’m just treating you with your reward..it won’t hurt..that much.” She looked up at you one last time and then went back under your dress..pulling your panties off. You blush out of embarrassment and arousal, as Velvette chuckles at your already fully aroused pussy. “Oh such a good girl..so ready for me…”

She kissed your thighs and trialed up them to your throbbing and needy cunt, you let out a whiny and needy moan, hands threatening to grasp her hair again. “Please Velvette..”. You beg.

“Call me ma’am.” She demanded before she could continue, she wanted you to still call her ma’am, it did make her feel more in control.

“Please ma’am..please..” you beg again, leaning your head against the vanity’s mirror.

“Please what?” She looked up from under the dress, smirking, she lived playing with you..she found it amusing.

“Please let me cum..please” you begged whiningly. That was enough to satisfy Velvette, as she planted her skilled mouth onto your wet and ready pussy. You let out a gasp and arch your back and hips off the vanity, hands clinging onto the vanity’s edge, you moan and forced your hips into her face more.

She moaned against your pussy, tasting your sweet nectar, it sent vibrations through you that made you shiver and moan. She used one of her hands to push your legs apart more, and the other was teasing your soaked entrance. You were left begging and pleading for her to enter you.

You gasp as she thrusted three fingers in at first into your tight little pussy. She was desperate. She has been wanting to do this for a long time to you. She thrusted in and out more roughly, but not enough to cause severe pain. You let out quiet cry’s and yelps, your eyes rolling back as she found your g-spot and hit it repeatedly with her skilled fingers. “In so close…” you whispered and panted softly.

“That’s it..be a good girl and cum for me..” veovette said, thrusting her fingers rougher and rougher. You let out a longer cry as you cum onto her fingers. She quickly licked the white liquid off of herself, and then placed her mouth on your entrance, milking out every last drop of cum. You pant. Your body quivering out of ecstasy. You opened your cloudy eyes and looked down at her. She stands up and licks her slightly cum covered face, then smirked back at you.

“Good job, doll~”

[minkdelovely]

PHEWWWW 🥵🥵🥵

I had the absolute honor of being able to beta some of this but FUCKKK I knew it was gonna take me out when I read it all at once.

This… is SO unbelievably thrilling and erotic. Again, despite reading some of this beforehand — I WAS STILL SO ON EDGE.

THE FOREST SCENE?? FUCK 👏🏻 ME 👏🏻 UP 👏🏻 I’LL NEVER HEAR A KNOCK KNOCK JOKE THE SAME AGAIN CUZ I’LL JUST BE THINKING ABOUT HIDING IN A FELLED ROTTING TREE.

You know what else I’ll never stop thinking about? "So malleable, so eager-- Good God--"

GOOD GOD? GOOD GOD??

I’M TEARING MY FUCKING HAIR OUT. I CAN’T WAIT TO FALL ASLEEP TONIGHT AND DREAM OF THIS. GOD DAMNNNN 🙏🏻❤️‍🔥

REQUEST TIME :333 ummm this is actually my first time requesting here but I’ve been so obsessed with Human Alastor so maybe a sexy thing where he hunts you (fem reader) down in the wooded near his cabin with his shotgun? This is so dangerous lol but he’s shooting and splitting trees as you zip pass them in your nightgown (he would never shoot you it’s for the flare) you stumble over an old stump and he is on your ass! You fight and tumble around before he’s dragging you by your ankles back to his cabin to have his way with you? (All of this was very much consensual between the two of you elaborated foreplay if you will!)

Trigger Happy - Human! Alastor x Fem!Reader

My friend in Satan, I am SO sorry for how long this took! I was honestly getting worked up over it!!! Hate the delay, but I hope the story itself will be worth it! Just as a warning, this is getting towards risky territory, but I promise nothing too bleak. A few warnings: Guns, a heated foot chase, you get distracted there for a while, some physical violence/tussling, f!reader, some f!oral and m!oral, overtsim, rope/restraints, and some REALLY filthy penetrative sex. Y'all are some absolute freaks in this one. Hope you enjoy! (ALSO THIS IS LIKE INSANELY LONG IM SORRY ITS LIKE 9K--)

SPECIAL SHOUT OUT TO @minkdelovely and @hazelfoureyes for helping me through this and being my scream queens/beta readers dhoduhdouhdoduhdohidoi <3 (I'm in love with both of you BLINKBLINK)

Taglist: @ieatcocoa @nocturessa @tsukikos-stuff @leviskittywh0re

@polyo-nym-y @cosmiccandydreamer @littlebluefishtail @your-excellenc-z21 and others (if you wanna be tagged I'll add you! Sorry I've never made a taglist before???)

🩸🦌🩸

Your hands fidgeted in your lap as Alastor finished the final touches of tonight's meal. You regarded him nervously as his humming filled the humble interior of his inherited cabin. He was in such a good mood, you thought... Why spoil something so tender and domestic between the two of you?

For a while now, you knew of your darling beau's aversion to many things, physical intimacy being one he struggled with most. At least, compared to most... You hardly minded, as when you were on the receiving end of such of intimacy... Well, let's just say you could usually expect to be bedridden for a few hours. You swallow the bile creeping up, nerves reflected in your voice as you spoke," Alastor, dear?"

A pair of kind, almond-colored eyes looked upon you, making your heart leap. Alastor's eyes turned a warm amber when exposed to the charming lighting provided by the fireplace.

"Yes, darling?" Alastor cooed, his tone still airy and filled with a domestic softness.

"Could we... could we talk for a moment? Before dinner?"

Your partner gave you a bemused look, as if he were asked a ridiculous question. His hands settled on his hips as he rocks his weight onto his other foot, eyebrows raising.

"Dear, why let the food grow cold? Could we not discuss it over dinner? I tell you, it's JUST like my mother's; it's hearty, filling, and--"

"Alastor," you interrupt, a stern bite cutting through your meek tone," Pl-Please... If I try to tell you while you're eating, you'd probably choke." Alastor grants you an interesting look, eyes widening with your change in demeanor. But of course, he relents, sighing like a demure housewife.

"Well then, who am I to refuse... Choking is rather unpleasant, anyhow." Quickly, Alastor fusses over your meal, dousing the fire to let it simmer.

"Now then: we have a few minutes before I need to stir it. Tell me... what's troubling you?"

You gesture for Alastor to sit with you, to take his place at the table. He silently moves towards it in confident, wide strides. You watch nervously as he sits, crossing his legs formally. You felt the sweat trickle into your brow as his simple actions felt like they took an eternity... Alastor then sets his elbows on the table, resting his chin upon his folded hands. He looked... entirely too comfortable, a stark contrast with your stiff spine and sweating palms.

Alastor watches you quietly, granting you a moment to collect your thoughts. And then, you speak:

"Alastor... you know how-- well, it's been a while since we last-- Uhhm..." The quiver of your lip tips your partner off immediately, his eyes squinting. The smile that plays on his face is telling, his teeth gleaming under the dim light.

"Oh honestly, what am I to do with you? Yes, of course we can try for a little romp tonight. But... I sense that our standard 'bedroom practices' aren't the only thing clouding your mind?"

He just didn't get it. He didn't understand the weight of what was on your mind, and how quickly it was going to hit him. You were thinking of this for weeks, terrified of his reaction... But, in the comfort of the cozy, warm cabin: it was now or never. You felt a tinge of guilt as you felt his flirty smile widen, ready to shatter his expectations.

You nod in affirmation, forcing yourself to look his way fully," Right. I have an idea. Something to... change things up. 'Make it a bit more interesting, if you'll hear me out."

Alastor hums pleasantly, one of his hands gesturing outward in an animated way. He regards you just the same, opening the floor to you. You steel your nerves, hands turning to balled up fists as you formulate your next thought bluntly," I want you to hunt me, Alastor. I wanted to be hunted."

A silence befalls the room, causing panic to rise in your chest. Your chaste, Creole partner stares back at you, eyes wide. His expression was damnably neutral, as if processing your demand. You immediately start onto a tangent, leaning forward as you make your case.

"L-Look, I know how that sounds... I don't want you to actually hurt me or kill me-- I mean-- I feel like you'd be terribly sad if I were gone, but-- No, I mean in a more..."

When you trail off, you expect Alastor to pick up on your meaning. You sigh with frustration, your hands mirroring each other as they mimed your body's curves and contours," ...sexual... way."

Alastor's expression morphs under the light of the fireplace, which burned dutifully. Alastor's black pupils dilate, his mouth falling ajar. He sits upright in his seat, leaning back as he takes everything in.

" You want me to... pursue you. Hunt you... like I would wild game? Is... Is that what you're asking?"

You nod firmly, your hands trembling," I-I know, I know... it's different. I told you it would be different--"

"Different is hardly a bad thing, mon cherie... 'just surprising, is all," Alastor drawls, his eyes softening. He could see how much you were worked up. You were scared to disappoint; scared to be rejected. He hated to see the soured look on your face, and was determined to replace it with something else," What exactly do you have in mind? This-- pursuit of ours... what are the conditions?"

It was now your turn for your face to morph, a mix of surprise and relief, a faint heat brewing in your stomach," Well... I'd like you to treat it like a legitimate chase. I could be a deer, in a sense... something to bring home for dinner. You'd chase me, and I would do my best to fight back, run away...," your eyes wander over to the shotgun by the cabin door, eyes glazed from your impure thoughts," But I don't want you empty handed. I want... I'd like for you to bring the shotgun. Use it, even... as long as you don't actually try to kill me." Alastor's expression, you swore, was now the rawest it's been since you've first met him. His heart was on his sleeve: confusion, shock, delirium, and... some sort of desire. A hunger.

Alastor smoothly rises from the table, his footsteps almost echoing in the silence. He makes his way to his nightstand, fishing out something you couldn't see. When Alastor turns towards you, you hear a familiar clink, as his revolver shines in the warm light. He opens the chamber, showing to you that it is empty, before sealing it with a resolute spin. Your fists unclench, and you let out a breath that you hadn't realized you were holding.

"Dear, as lovely and authentic as it would be... I would hate to bring the shotgun. That tool is far too accurate and far too deadly, even in an inexperienced person's hands. A round so small can tear a hole wider than your skull, given the proper range..." When Alastor returned to the table, he sets the empty revolver there, your heart thumping at the implications. He slid it towards you, as if a peace offering," I wonder what may have caused this idea to fester... But it's one I'm most certainly intrigued by," he offers simply. You tried your best not to look away, his smile exposing just how fascinated he was with your proposal. His eyes were a dead giveaway: he was more than willing to carry this act out.

Your hand ghosts over the revolver, the wood of the grip much warmer than the cool metal of the barrel. Alastor clears his throat, calling your attention back to him," If I may, dearest, I also have a request..."

You feel your heart thudding loudly in your chest, the loud pulse making you deaf to the rest of the world.

"Which is...?" you attempt to counter smoothly, but the breathiness of your tone gives you away. Alastor's eyes squint, familiar with that lilt of yours. He relished seeing you like this: embarrassed, sheepish... But most of all, you felt an overwhelming desire to have him agree; have him take charge. His ego bloomed right under your nose... He wanted to see just how badly this desire had been burning inside of you.

"Do you recall the nightgown that you wore when we first embraced, love? The white little number with lace trim?" You nodded immediately, a heat rising in your face as you recalled your first night with your partner," Y-Yes... yes, I think I have it with me, actually."

Alastor moves over to your side of the table, kneeling down to your height. He grabs your chin, gently tilting your head to meet his eyes. You couldn't help the spark of desire that shot up your spine as a wicked smile stretches across Alastor's face," Good. I'd like to see it thoroughly ruined once I'm done with you."

You swore you had a stroke, your eyes wider than the dinner saucers that set the cozy, oak dinner table. You were brought back to reality as Alastor patted your cheek, practically singing when he spoke again.

"Now: let's eat. You'll need this to have your strength, dear~ The hunt starts this evening. Once dinner is finished, you'll have until I fully load the revolver to run. And that's when I'll come for you... understood?"

You had all but forgotten how to breathe, a stupefied nod his only reply as Alastor went back to the stove," Ohhh, almost forgot! We still have some bread from last night! I hope that's alright, dear~"

You were almost numb from the overwhelming sensations and emotions that coursed through your body. You were so excited and so nervous that you couldn't even think of eating. But Alastor had worked so hard to make you a fresh, homecooked meal... who were you to let it go cold? Despite yourself, you happily devoured the entire course, and were soon given seconds. Alastor grants you a coy smile, his expression saying what he kept silent: eat up. You're gonna need it.

---

Like the dutiful partner you were, you helped Alastor clean every dish and utensil used to prepare dinner. Ever the vixen, you even smeared some of the broth across his cheek, just to lick it off. The act made Alastor shudder, but he spared you, merely squeezing your hips and giving you a kiss. As for tonight... well, you wondered just how gentle he would be... if at all.

Once you had dried the last utensil, your ears perked up at the sound of a metallic clink. Your eyes widened, head whipping around to see Alastor opening the barrel to his revolver. He glances towards you, a neutral smile on his face," Oh! Sorry to startle you, dear. Just filling the chamber. 'Thought I heard something stalking outside... I might have to investigate it. You can never be to careful, these days."

You gasped, eyes dilating as you shook with anticipation. Now, now was the time.

You sprinted over to your suitcase, throwing it on the bed as you frantically searched for your nightgown. He was eager to start too, it seemed--

Click. First bullet loaded.

"I say, what a strange time of year...," Alastor rambled as he spun the glistening chamber, pushing up his glasses with the wrist of his other hand. The second bullet was clutched in his fingers, the rest scattered on the counter. You nearly shrieked as you frantically tear off your loungewear, exchanging it for the gown that Alastor requested. He would have thought the action was adorable and meek, if it weren't for his desire to fuck you stupid.

A bemused chuckle fills the air, dark and full of promise.

"What do you think is out there right now, love? A little rabbit, perhaps? With a fluffy white tail?"

Click. Second round.

You made your way hastily to the door as Alastor watched you, wiping the barrel of his revolver with the edge of his flannel. He was taking his time and making this spectacle: that you knew for sure. He seemed aloof, unbothered by your accelerated heartrate... but it agonized him to no end. This zesty little suggestion already had his mind reeling, possibilities of how he would claim you crossing over him every time he blinked.

"No, perhaps it's a deer? A doe, even? I hear it's about that time of year... mating season, that is." Your face grew hot at the notion, cursing yourself for not better preparing for this. You made sure to pull on your hiking shoes, tying the laces tightly. You prayed that they'd stay on to protect your feet.

Alastor hums with curiosity, blinking. Another image of you, trembling and moaning under his body, making his nethers pulse with interest.

"Ohh, maybe a bobcat! Something feisty... I wonder how it would taste?"

Click number three. Halfway through...

You turn around, chest already heaving as you made eye contact with Alastor. He saw you for the deranged, desperate animal that you were. His eyes matched your energy, an uncanny smile on his face. Alastor's pupils were mere pinpricks, the overwhelming expanse of amber and caramel brown nearly glowing.

"I don't know, baby... But whatever it is, I hope it runs fast," you grin to Alastor as he mirrors your expression, his tongue running across his pristine teeth.

"I'd hate to think of what would happen if you caught up to it."

With that, you were out of the door, unable to hear the rapid succession of bullets four, five, and six. Teasing be damned, he was making himself impatient. Alastor made a show of closing the weapon with a hard snap and spin, a satisfying weight settling into his hand. With the gun fully loaded, it just felt so... right. A fascination he gained from his father, unfortunately. Though he did appreciate the skills he learned from the sick bastard, that was the extent of his affection.

He'd have a good number of things to thank him for before the end of the night, as he slipped on his own pair of outdoor boots. When he stepped out onto the deck, he had caught a glimpse of you. That delicate little nightgown was fluttering and fleeting, catching the moonlight. It had to have been around 9 or 10 o'clock at night... A perfect time for your little chase to commence. Not to mention, the cool, crisp Fall air had made everything entirely better; not too hot, and not too cold. For all the weather that permeated in this southern state, Fall in Louisiana had been one of Alastor's favorites. It was his favorite namely for Open Season... and how convenient for him that you were added to the list of eligible, wild game...

He inhaled deeply through his nose, savoring the scent of evergreen and pine tickling his senses. He held his breath like this for a while, feeling his chest expand and burn from the denial of oxygen. Once he'd had enough, he exhaled heavily, a shudder running through his entire body. He let you have a decent head start. Now the chase could begin.

---

Your lungs burned from how swiftly you ran, feet carrying you further than you had ever pushed yourself. In that moment, you almost felt liberated, free… as if something had rolled off your chest. You aren't quite sure where this sense of euphoria came from, but you embraced it all the same, laughing breathlessly as your dress caught in stray branches and debris, your boots splashing into the wet, almost marshy forest floor. You breathed in through your nose, feeling a similar pull as Alastor to just take everything in… You were greeted with smells of wood and earth, though, in this part of the forest, you caught whiff of a water source nearby. As if a tether were around your waist, you felt called to it. Your running came to a steady, calm trot, your eyes trying to adjust to the darkness of the night.

You stop just by a clearing, a familiar bayou greeting you. You marveled at the scenery before you, scarcely lit up by the moonlight. You had almost forgotten about your little game with Alastor, brushing stray Spanish Moss aside as you stepped fully out into the open. You smile fondly, a memory crossing your mind:

You, frantically shaking Alastor's shoulders as you try to point out a doe and her darling, new fawn. But, in your desperation, the deer were scared away, frightened by your presence. You had been heartbroken, though your partner swore up and down that he saw them, and that even so: your enthusiasm was a much more charming sight.

You walked a few yards from the water's edge, not wanting to chance it; meeting a creature of the night face-to-face was not your idea of "fun"... unless it was Alastor. You were grateful, then, for your hiking boots, as they made navigating the wet earth beneath your feet much easier. However, your foot catches on your next step, causing you to stumble into a nearby tree. When catching yourself, you spy a delicately carved pattern: yours and Alastor's first initials. (You, later on, had added the heart that surrounded them). Initially, you hadn't wanted to deface a tree like this, but Alastor, ever the charmer, insisted that it would become a landmark for you; a way to tell where you were if you were ever lost...

Your hands traced the familiar carvings, the rivets scratching against your fingertips gently. You just felt your heart swell more, the thoughts of your softer moments making your mind fog. Even with someone hot on your tail, your focus waning. You began humming to yourself as you continued your restful stroll, running through moments in your memory that made you feel particularly cozy; safe.

Just when you had felt your safest, a loud SNAP of a tree twig sounded to your rear left. You froze in your tracks, turning feverishly towards the sound. Your once still, content heart was racing wildly, eyes as wide as the moon looming above you. You slowly turned your entire body to face the noise, making sure to keep your eyes focused on the direction you heard the snap. You start to walk backwards, making your way stealthily towards the tree line.

Most animals will attack you with your back turned… facing them will deter an assault, even if for a few moments, you thought… Just before you could disappear, having half a mind to sprint-- a sudden, deafening CRACK rang out, followed by the splintering of wood. You looked to your left again, as you witness the tree next to you receive a battle scar: a bullet wound.

RUN.

You bolted into the thick underbrush, doing your best to stay low to the ground as a set of steady, patient steps pursued you. Had you not had a good distance on him, your hunter's pace would have been undiscernible from your own. It thrilled you; it horrified you. You knew that Alastor had a knack for hunting, and had you known he was THIS committed, you would have asked for a better head start.

A startling thought plagued your mind as you had a moment of clarity, your face paling. You ASSUMED this was Alastor… what if it wasn't? What if this was a wild animal, who had its sights on you? What if it was another marksman, and you were trespassing on their property? The thought made your throat run dry, the instinct to become small and hide winning over your other senses.

You nearly shrieked as a second bullet wizzes past you, less than a yard away, before it strikes the tree to your right. To your horror: it was at eye level. Had this been a stranger… they were going for the kill.

You crouch all the way down to the forest floor, searching frantically until you spy an hollowed-out tree log. You slink your way over, searching for any residents or critters, before diving headfirst into the tree husk. You laid on your back, bringing your legs in as far as they could go. You winced as your knees scrapped against the dead wood. Unable to calm down, you hastily cover your mouth with both hands. You were doing your absolute best to calm your breathing. Think, now, think… you had to think your way out of this mess.

The steady beat of the hunter's footsteps slowed, until they stop entirely. You resisted the urge to sigh in relief, still unsure if you were safe or not. Eventually, you couldn't hear a thing over the deafening stillness, the normal noises of the woods silenced by your escapade. Much like you, other creatures seemed to wait with bated breath. Maybe they were terrified of the hunter… maybe they were terrified of you.

You twitch as you hear the familiar clink of metal, a revolver's spinning wheelhouse catching your ear. You weren't out of the woods yet… this could still be another person. This could very well be a real hunt… A sharp inhale sounds just a few yards away. You nearly jumped out of your skin, eyes slamming shut. When did that hunter get closer!? Had you misjudged how far away you were from him?!

"Only 4 more bullets, Little Cottontail… let's see if you can evade them all~"

Relief and terror washed over you simultaneously: Alastor. Your body was paralyzed with conflicting emotions, breath picking up as you hear footsteps stirring closer. You could feel the panic rising in your face, blood pressure raging; but you can also feel the traitorous, hazy heat that engulfed your core. Either way, Alastor had you completely on edge, your fragile mind was on the verge of caving in either way. Should you run away, or run to him? That was your conflict…

Knock knock

Your eyes fly open as you dare to look between your bent legs, spying a pair of steely, hungry brown eyes. Pupils mere pinpricks, the whites of his eyes were nearly glowing under the light of the moon.

"There's that sweet, little rabbit!"

You shrieked as you were pulled out of the log, knees and back scrapping against the wood of your shelter. When you met solid earth, you kicked and fought, eyes wide and animalistic. Your body still fell into conflict; you wanted this to be a real chase: FIGHT BACK. Alastor was quick to avoid your kicks, straddling your hips as he tried to restrain your flailing arms. Never did you make contact, but Alastor was cautious to avoid any accidental hits, all the same.

"Oh dear, was I wrong after all? Am I really still chasing a scared, feral little rabbit~? Or something bigger…" Alastor teased, managing to seize one of your hands. It was immediately pinned above your head as you thrashed, grunting and groaning in your efforts to escape. Alastor pressed further into you, eliciting a tight -lipped moan as you felt an unmistakable hardness rub against your core. He was enjoying this much more than his face allowed him to show…

"Be a good little pet, won't you? Won't you let me take you back to my cabin? I promise I'll make this quick and painless~"

You thrashed your head back and forth. You didn't want this to be quick. You didn't WANT it to be painless. You wanted more. MORE of this.

In a daring fit of heightened hormones and rushed decision making, a loud SLAP filled the air. You panted as your hand stung, Alastor's face now jerked to the left, looking away. A flushed, red print was painted across his handsome face, his eyes wide with disbelief. He sat there like this for a few moments, his grip on your hand all but gone. You took this opportunity to slink out from under him, using his dumbfounded expression as a gauge. Truly, how long did you have until he was grounded?

Sadly, it wasn't long, a slender hand cupping the offending, fading mark. You looked down as you saw something move, your mouth watering: his cock was even harder than before, twitching from the sudden outburst. A shaky, broken sigh left Alastor's trembling lips as he slowly looked back towards you. A deep dusty rose flooded his cheeks as he chuckled, his voice full of a wicked venom. His free hand fished for his revolver, the barrel now pointing straight at you.

"Alright, then… no more playing nice."

You immediately vaulted out of the way as a third shot rang out, impacting the earth you had just been sprawled upon. Alastor elegantly got to his feet, like a regal vampire exiting his coffin. He pressed his glasses higher up the bridge of his nose, pupils wide with desire as he watched you bob and weave into the trees.

"Three more to go," he growled, his grin widening madly as he broke out into a frenzied sprint.

The panic was steadily rising, as did your burning desire. You realized, with horror, that Alastor's pace nearly went in double time, and he was steadily gaining on you. And so, you figured if you were truly to get caught, it might as well be a trap for him too--

BANG

Shot number four rang out, a terror-filled scream igniting the night; this shot was less than a foot from your trembling, straining right leg. You muscles were scorched from the effort you put yourself in, core fully engaged as you tried to focus on breathing. You were unsuccessful, already far too overworked and overheated. You came to the harsh realization that you couldn't run much longer.

You started charting your course carefully, taking dips and turns in hopes to throw Alastor off of your trail… but ever the clever man, he never lost sight of you. And, despite your best efforts, he was nearly on top of your imaginary cottontail. You dared to look behind you, searching for the madman coming for you, only to see he was no where in sight. Your pace slowed down, confused as his footsteps cease. You came to a dead stop, spinning around wildly to find any sign of your darling partner. Your mouth ran dry as you panted, legs nearly giving out from under you. As you took in your surroundings, you feared that you may be lost… truly, genuinely lost.

"A-Al… Alastor? Baby...?" you rasp between pants, a hand coming up to your heaving chest. You take a few, cautious steps back towards the direction you came from, squinting harshly. Your eyes still had not adjusted to the low visibility of the dank, dark forest.

"A-Al… AL?!" you call desperately, scared that you may have lost him, or worse: maybe he was injured... You go to take off again, before a hand snakes around your throat. You couldn't scream as the hand squeezes your pulse, a cold, metallic object pressed into your lower back. Your fear transformed into relief, which transformed into desire, all within a span of few seconds. Familiar, heated lips brushed against the shell of your ear. Alastor's breath was heavy on your skin.

"I guess I didn't need all of my rounds, after all." Alastor nearly purred, despite his labored breathing. His warm breath followed his lips as they came to the junction of your jaw and neck, three fingers unfurling from your pulse. This left him just enough room to litter the bared skin of your neck with short, open mouthed kisses, your eyes fluttering closed. Even with only two fingers squeezing your throat, you still felt lightheaded, unable to escape. You shuddered under his grasp, your body instantly surrendering to his desire. It was official: the chase was officially over. Alastor knew that the moment you sighed into his touch.

"Good girl~"

In a rapid succession, you were grabbed and hauled over Alastor's wide shoulder, his free hand tucking his revolver away. Your hands flew down to grope and run over Alastor's body, your lungs still exhausted from the strife of running away. Alastor allowed your hands to explore, appearing unphased as he carried you out of the woods. He resisted every fiber in his being to not bend you over and fuck you into the damp earth; a filthy act for a filthy-minded girl like you. But, he had at least some modicum of class… he needed to make this last; he would ensure this was something you wouldn't soon forget.

-- You felt embarrassed by how rapidly your heart beat, how frantically you were tugging at Alastor's flannel, but when your eyes looked up to a different building, your heart nearly stopped. You were walking toward 'the shack', Alastor called it… THIS was where he took all of his wild game after hunting them down. Seeing your unease, he slapped you on the ass, hoping to chase away your nerves," Don't worry, darling… I told you I would be gentle~"

His words contradicted his actions as you were practically thrown into the shed, sprawled out onto the floor. Your eyes tried taking in your surroundings, but it was far too dark to see. You yelped as both of your hands were seized and tied with a coarse jute rope, the fibers pricking your wrists. When you felt Alastor leave you, your legs came together, heat still pooling in your lower abdomen," S-Sooo, Mr. Huntsman~ You've caught me~ What do you plan to d--" Your questioning was cut short as you were suddenly jerked onto your knees, your hands now taunt over your head. A few more tugs on your rope, and you were standing upright, struggling to balance on the balls of your feet. You wobbled as you heard shuffling behind you, rope being fastened, and the clink of Alastor's revolver laying on a flat surface.

Alastor left you in suspense like this for a few moments, as he brought his hands together with a satisfied hum. The crisp sound made you jump as if it were gunfire, your cunt nearly drooling as you strained to look for Alastor in the pitch.

"Now then… 'can't see very well like this, can we?"

A lantern was lit just in front of your face, startling you. You realized that Alastor had all but held his breath to get closer to you, those same, silent footsteps deceiving you again. You couldn't find the words to speak, eyes wide with disbelief and desire as you stared back at Alastor's shit eating grin.

"Ahhh, yes… Finally managed to capture you, you tricky thing~," he mused as he flicked the tip of your nose. He chuckled when you wiggled it back and forth and recoiled, almost mimicking the animal he claimed you to be. "No, I don't think you're privy to know what I plan to do to you, with words… But, I can certainly show you." He seized your cheeks roughly with one hand, puckering your lips as he closed the distance between your bodies," But you might enjoy that too, wouldn't you?" Alastor's other hand ran dangerously up your trembling thigh, his face cool and collected as you were practically panting under his touch.

"P-Please…"

Alastor sends you a questioning look, before grinning maliciously," I didn't realize animals could speak, let alone have permission to." A harsh grip on your thigh anchored you to Alastor's pelvis, and you felt the familiar, hardened length on your core. You whined, obeying in silence as Alastor ground against you. His mouth fell open as he pressed his hips again, eager to seek some friction.

"You'd like me to use you, wouldn't you…? Breed this body like a deranged rabbit while you're helpless, defenseless under my touch…" Your mouth watered at the idea, your eyes fluttering as his hand shifted to palm your ass. His smirk was very telling, both hands moving to spread and palm your backside properly. His touch was slow and sensual on your trembling, supple body.

"Or maybe I should lay my claim here… Uncharted wilderness is quite thrilling to explore, don't you think?" His breath was so low it rattled his own ribcage. Without warning, a groan was torn from both of your throats as you bucked into Alastor's hips. Your eagerness was not unwelcomed...

Alastor was rewarded with another broken, wanton moan for his scandalous ideas and his wandering hands. He realized, in that moment, he was telling you exactly what he wanted to do to you. And, in that same moment, he decided that he didn't fucking care.

"Or maybe… maybe I can't wait--" Alastor starts to drag his lips down your form, kissing down your neck, then the valley of your breasts, then your abdominals… before landing at the hem of your still-concealed underwear. "I'm quite parched, love… Surely you won't mind if I quench my thirst, first?" Alastor's hands snake up your thighs as your nightgown is pushed up, revealing his current target: your clothed loins. His pupils shrink as he inhales, almost nuzzling into your inviting cunt. You whine weakly when he gazes up to you with mesmerized eyes; he was as bent out of shape as you were, and he was struggling to keep it concealed… Was he really going to enjoy himself, or sink his teeth in? Your heart stuttered at either possibility.

You nodded down to Alastor, wobbling as you spread your legs as far as you could. Your wrists were reminded of their predicament as you tried to move, thrashing in your restraints. You didn't speak, a firm nod your answer and consent. As Alastor kissed your awaiting heat, he shifted your legs onto his shoulders, alleviating the pressure on your feet. Had you not been so aroused, you would be heavily flustered by this gesture: a kindness yet something so brazen, even for your sweet beau.

He squeezed the meat of your thighs, humming as he licked a warm, wet stripe between your covered lips, the fabric of your panties already drenched with your arousal. You swore you saw his eyelids flutter as he sighed against you, diving in more earnestly. You wailed with frustration, unable to feel the full effect of his tongue just yet. You cared very little, however, as some attention was better than none. Your struggled against your restraints once more, warning hands digging into your thighs. You tried to swallow the lump in your throat, but it simmered into a moan with each wave of pleasure. You wanted to scream as Alastor continued to tease you, unable to regulate your breathing or your moans.

He wasn't kidding; he wanted to eat you out like a man starved, his tongue dancing along your drenched panties wildly. He left no surface unmarked by his sinful, silver tongue. Alastor practically moaned around your sensitive bud, your mind reeling at the sensation as your hips bucked subconsciously. Whether it was because he was enjoying himself, or strictly to stimulate your clit, you weren't sure… but that little noise sent jolts of electricity right to your core.

Despite this: you were rewarded with a nip to your pearl, a whiney, breathy moan your weak rebuttal. You secretly hoped he would tear you apart, just to put you back together and break you again.

Your mind refocused as you felt your underwear being moved to the side, a bold, eager tongue now attending to your bare, puffy folds. You shrieked his name, whimpering from the stimulation. His tongue worked dexterously, licking and coddling every curve, dip, and crevice. Alastor's movements were now raw and unfiltered, MUCH to your delight.

Your legs caged his head, squeezing him closer to you as you felt your orgasm forming at an alarming rate. You couldn't help but mewl, head falling forward and limp as Alastor buried his face into your mound. His straight, rigid nose prodded your clit as he drove his tongue into your aching entrance, your taste and scent engulfing his thoughts. You let out a long, satisfied moan as he began to pump his long tongue in and out of you, working both his spit and your arousal in and out. The slick skin-on-skin squelching did nothing to calm the fire behind your eyes, toes popping with how violently they curled. Alastor continued his brutal pace, unable to get enough of your taste, scent, and special, little cries that were made just for him.

"F-fuhhh~ F-Fahhh--! Ahh! A-Al!" you cried, wanting desperately to use your words; you tried to give him a warning. You were near your climax, tears pricking your half-lidded eyes. You heard Alastor grunt into you, hands rubbing and kneading your thighs, as if asking you to crush his head more. You obliged, bucking into his mouth as your release started to approach. He had his mouth full, no doubt! Even so: you swore you heard Alastor moan and whisper into your folds hastily, suckling and swirling your clit to make you cum.

"F-Fuck-- Oh fuck, cum for me, then--"

Your body spasmed, head tossing back sharply,"F-Fuck, Al-- Al!!! Fuck, cumming--"

The dizzying affect swam over you swiftly, a scream that could be mistaken for pain filling the tiny shack you were in. The force and sudden rise in pleasure was overwhelming, almost maddening as Alastor wound you back down. You were gently set back onto your feet, legs shaking... All the while, his tongue never stopped, making you whine from overstimulation.

"A-Al… please, that's-- G-God! You can stop now-- Ahh~" You would have doubled over if your hands weren't restrained, your tongue lolling out from between your lips. The delightful slurping from below didn't cease, and seemed to become even more feverish. Alastor smiled up at you, parting for just a moment before licking his slick-covered lips.

" Am I not allowed to have seconds, dear?"

Your face seemed to catch on fire as you try to formulate a reply. However, Alastor's mouth knocked it out of you, head vacant as he continues to ravage you. He suckled on your abused clit, hands holding your hips in place as you tried to squirm away from his devious touch.

"F-Fuck! F-Fuck, Al, please--!!! T-Too much-- Ahhn-- T-Too much!!" you cried, your wrists chaffed against the rope that bound you.

Alastor did not relent, instead pressing you further into his face as he feasted upon you. His slurping and gulping nearly doubled with a grotesque volume, his eyes wide and watching you. You trembled under his intense gaze, rushing towards a very intense, unnecessary second orgasm.

"F-Fuck-- Alastor!! A-Al! Fuck, don't--" you whined, tears streaming down your face as the searing heat of the new orgasm washed over you," Pl-Please-- FUCK--"

Another shriek bounced off the walls as a hasty, overwhelming feeling flooded your loins. You winced with embarrassment as you felt a sudden gush of warmth coat your sex and thighs. Of course, Alastor was on the receiving end, but didn't seem to mind, his tongue only slowing when you were practically sobbing into the afterglow. Your legs completely gave out on you, wincing as your arms held your entire body aloft," F-Fuck… Fuuuuckkk…" you whined as your head spun, your eyes blurry from the pleased, hot tears that stained your face. A sweet, warm hand cupped your cheek, forcing you to look Alastor's way.

"An absolutely breathtaking meal, darling…," Alastor panted, his eyes warm but still full of a lusty haze," Please… if you'll have me, I simply can't stop there."

When you gave him a weak but sure nod, Alastor nearly bolted to the secured rope, allowing you to descend to your knees. The warm wooden floor dug into your legs as you waited. Alastor was quick to resecure the rope before looping back to you. " If I were to ravage your pussy now, I'm afraid this little show might end early… So for both our sakes…" Alastor swiftly freed his aching cock, a hand lazily pumping his flushed member. Despite his aversion to touching himself, he sighed into the relief his hand provided.

"Won't you please… allow me to use your sweet lips instead, pet?"

How could you say no, with his words tumbling out sweetly?

With a speed that made Alastor dizzy, you beckoned him to you, tongue first. He allowed you to kiss the head of his flushed cock, eyes drinking in your expressions and your body. He had half a mind to cut the rope holding you hostage, but decided against it when you took him into your warm mouth. Alastor hastily covered his lips, stifling a groan as his other hand fisted your hair. You didn't mind, hollowing your cheeks as you took as much of him in as you could. His public hair tickled the very tip of your nose, his musk invading your senses. Had his mind been clearer, Alastor would've worried about your ability to breathe... but he had to focus on not throat fucking you first.

"Shit-- so warm--," Alastor groaned, his voice still muffled. Despite this, his words reached your perked ears, and causing your wet entrance to flutter around nothing. Alastor flinched, his hips spasming as you took him down to his base. He was jammed far into your throat, your eyes rolling back as you tried to relax around his engorged member. A choked noise and a sputter erupted around his cock, a pleased moan eagerly following. As much as Alastor was enjoying himself, you would be lying if you said choking on Alastor's cock wasn't fun for you.

"Fuck, don't hurt yourself, darling-- I don't need-- FUCK--" The moment you started to bob your head, all words and worries flew out the window, the hand in your hair beginning to guide your descent. Alastor felt like he was being incinerated, his body electrified by your wriggling tongue and tight mouth. His restraint was beginning to wane, hair fanning across his sweat-slicked forehead," Fuck, you take this so well-- Take ME so well--"

Alastor panted, hardly able to keep his eyes open as you whined around him. His grip in your hair grew harsher, his hips beginning to stir.

"So malleable, so eager-- Good God--" Alastor's head fell forward as you created a delicious, tight suction around his dick. The sensation nearly drove him to bellowing, your name tumbling clumsily from his parched lips. He stared at the point where his cock disappeared into your mouth, then up to your teary eyes. Fresh tears spilled over your flushed cheeks, his words causing a shiver to run up your spine. Alastor, completely enthralled, felt his cock throb at the sight of your desperation, gritting his teeth," FUCK-- Damn it all--!"

Straining to reach out of sight, his hand ends up landing on a carving knife. Once he could grip it properly, he hastily swings above you. You flinch for a moment, before your arms relax and fall to your sides. You realized he cut you loose, but you had no time to dabble on the thought. Alastor's cock slid out of your mouth, your jaw setting into a neutral, open shape. Alastor started to stroke himself hastily, using his other hand to gesture in a circle," Turn around-- on all fours. NOW."

You didn't hesitate when that dark, brisk command was thrown your way, clambering like a newborn deer. You turn to look back at him, wagging your hind in a teasing way," Don't want to waste a drop, huh?" you teased, a coy smile on your face. Alastor laughed, breathy and high, as he fell to his knees. He easily towered over you as he aligned himself to your dribbling, plush entrance," You know me too well, love."

The plunge of his cock nearly knocked you onto your stomach, your mouth falling open in a silent scream. To your pleasant surprise, Alastor had bottomed out inside of you. There was a slight discomfort from the sudden intrusion (one that wasn't unwelcome) as a strong arm wrapped around your torso.

" B-Bear with me. I'll fill you up soon, dear--"

You nearly cried as Alastor began to move, hips already hammering into your most intimate place at an animalistic rate. You were truly fucking like rabbits, unable to do anything but chase your own desires. Alastor buried his face into your neck, biting down on your shoulder to muffle his grunts. You were unable to stifle your own, the sounds of your ecstasy bouncing around the room. The steady, rhythmic squelching of your privates were almost drowned out by the steady plap, plap, plap against your ass with every brutish press. You were getting close... And as Alastor's voice rose with yours, you realized he couldn't be fa behind. You allowed yourself to fall forward, cheek smashed against the grain of the floorboards as you arched your back," F-Fuck… fuck me, Alastor-- Hah-- Oh god, please--" Your eyes slammed shut as Alastor's pace only increased, his hips angling in a way that stroked your g-shot with every press.

"Yes, love-- fuck yes, you want this? Harder? Faster? Fuck--" He accented your mental demands with more energy, a hand cupping your bouncing, right breast as the other caressed your stuffed pussy. He sought your puffy pearl at the apex of your cunt, and drew quick, deliberate circles into it.

" Fuck, fuck! I need you to cum-- Want you to cum--," Alastor begged, his breath hot and heavy in your ear," O-One more time, please-- then I'll make sure to fuck my-- Oh fuck! I'll fuck you full of my cum--"

Your mouth hung open, drool pooling under your cheek as you felt your orgasm building for the third time that night, your hands clawing into the wooden floor," F-Fahh-- ahh! Yes!!! Fuck me, shit-- fuck me stupid, Al!!!" you wailed, eyes flying open as he pinched your clit. You clamped resolutely around his cock, your body locking up-- Yes, yes, just a few more thrusts--

"FUCK!!!"

You came with a wail and a tremor, your lungs screaming for air as it was fucked right out of you. Alastor, watching and feeling your body unravel under him, was unable to last any longer. He pressed his forehead into your shoulder, humping once, twice, thrice until he delivered a deep, devastating thrust. Your name became a debauched mantra as you milked his cock, spurts of hot, white seed painting your core. You trembled as you felt it being fucked into you, Alastor sighing into your shoulder.

"Sh-Shit… Shit, I love you. God, I fucking love you--" Alastor cursed into your shoulder, his hips stirring again," I-I can't stop-- fuck, you keep sucking me back in--"

You whined as Alastor started to rut into you again, his hardened length not wavering in the slightest. Like an animal in heat, he proceeded to fuck you through his own climax, eager to fill you up again," F-Fuck, I'm sorry-- You feel too good. Fuck, this is--"

You did your best to look behind you, lips clumsily kissing his temple, his forehead-- whatever you could reach," H-Hahn… hah, it's okay! Pl-Please, use me… F-Fuck, you can use me again! I wanna feel you cum in me again, Al!"

Alastor needed little convincing, his overstimulation outweighed by his desire. The cries that dripped from your mouth were sweeter than the honey and slick between your legs," G-God-- God, mon amour-- FUCK!"

You were smiling deliriously as Alastor used your sensitive cunt to chase another high, head foggy and vision blurry. You could do nothing but whine and shake as you were not only fucked through your orgasm, but felt your loins boil with an impending, new release. You couldn't say a word as each thrust pushed a scream from your diaphragm, Alastor's own throes of pleasure mirroring yours. The both of you made eye contact, and for the first time in a long time you saw… Alastor wasn't smiling?

Alastor's brow was knit together, face hard and yet so flushed as his mouth hung open in a wide, desperate "O". You felt your walls flutter around Alastor, the sight almost as beautiful as his trademark smile. Hastily, Alastor pulled you up by your throat, squeezing as you were forced to face away… The growl that was rumbled into your ear did little to slow down your peak.

The smile that danced across your face was unmatched; you had gotten Alastor to completely melt into you, unable to keep his 'armor' on. He was drunk off of your body, and he was unable to hide just how much he wanted both of you to cum. You mentally cheered, unable to shake the feeling of victory as that tension in your belly snapped. You unleash a broken, primal scream as Alastor fills your womb with another load, his semen spilling out from your writhing cunt. Completely out of breath, both of your collapse to the floor. You were left gasping and wheezing as Alastor sunk into you deeper, fully sheathed and pressing into your cervix. The sensation just made you whimper into your afterglow, lips twitching as you both wound back down…

You both lay on the floor like this for a few moments-- hell, maybe for an hour-- trying to regain your bearings. Trembling hands caressed your body, while your own reached up to pet and stroke at soft, chestnut brown hair. A tired chuckle fills your ears as Alastor closes his eyes, a content sigh rolling off his chest.

"You never fail to amaze me. And, of course… you never fail to make me cum either," Alastor admits, a sheepish blush creeping across his face. You nod, your laughter just as meek," Y-Yeah… fuck, you… you did all the work," you quipped, feeling Alastor shake his head. He kissed at your shoulders, trailing them up your neck and to your heated cheeks.

"Darling, if anything deserves the praise, it would be your nethers… She put on quite a show." You lightly elbowed him in the ribs, the both of you laughing like teenagers," Or maybe your brain… for coming up with a delicious roleplaying scenario?"

You hum for a moment to contemplate, before sighing," Fair enough… I'll take that," you profess, looking up and back towards your exhausted partner," Alastor?"

"Yes, my dear?"

"Thank you again, for all of this... and-- sorry about slapping you earlier," you chuckle, your face burning under Alastor's sweet gaze. He seemed entirely unbothered, shrugging," Ahh, nothing but a passionate act in the heat of the moment. Think nothing of it-- as long as you don't mind me slapping this again~" You squeaked as your ass received a playful tap, like a friendly, sportsman’s slap of approval.

"Good job~"

You rolled underneath Alastor, his cock finally freed when you sprawled out onto your back. You invited him to lay his head on your chest, which he gladly accepted. You could feel the tension in his body dissipate the moment he laid down, his eyes fluttering closed. You brushed the hair away from his face, giggling at the adorable sight of your dopey, sleepy lover.

"Alastor... don't fall asleep on me, now. We still need to get back to the cabin." Alastor groaned, brow furrowing. Stubborn as a bull, he nuzzled into your chest face-first, sighing as your heartbeat lulled him," Just a few more minutes, dear… I don't believe either of us could stand, even if we wanted to."

You hummed, patting Alastor on the head as you conceded," Touché… But I blame you for that."

"And not our heated chase, dearest?"

You snort as you try not to laugh, belly aching from holding back," Fuck, that's fair... Maybe we can play a little closer to home next time?" You smile down at your partner as he adjusts himself. Finally, he came up for air as his chin settled between your breasts, his eyelids still heavy from exhaustion. 

"Oh sweetheart, where would the fun be in that? You know I love a good chase~" 

He moved further up, caging your body with his as he gave you a tender, quick kiss," You can run, hide, do whatever you like... as long as we both have fun, that's all that matters– our legs be damned..." You can't help but nod and laugh, pushing Alastor back into your bosom. Your sleepy beau can't help but hum in approval, your chest a warm, welcoming pillow. 

"You're right... that's all that matters. But really, I-- I love you, Alastor. I can’t help but thank you again. For all of this…" Your partner stills for a moment, a dark, intense flush coming across his face and neck. You can't help but laugh as he hides his face into your chest again, sighing dramatically," I love you too, mon ange... For now, I'll settle for saying it, as I'm far too tired to show you again right now..."

You chuckle as you crane your neck down, kissing his crown before letting your head thunk against the floor," You already show me more than enough, baby... More than you know." 

The silence is calming, even comfortable as the two of you find yourselves drifting off to sleep. Thankfully, the autumn heat and the union of your bodies was more than enough to keep you warm. Both of you allowed yourselves just one, brief nap while the crickets and cicadas harmonized outside the window... A perfect, peaceful conclusion to a passionate, relentless hunt. 

[synamartia]

♡ I Got You ( Human!Alastor x Afab!Reader )

♡ Content Warnings: MDNI ; 18+ ; Porn without plot ; smut ; semi-public sex ; car sex ; brat taming ; unprotected sex ; creampie ; if I missed any, let me know!

♡ Author's Notes: For my darling wifeys Hazel, Mink, and Danny~! I hope I was able to deliver on the base idea 🥺 Not proofread, my brain stopped braining near the end so it's kinda rushed, but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless~!

♡ Summoning: @hazelfoureyes ; @minkdelovely ; @sugoi-writes ; @fraugwinska

"Where's that- nngh! ... that attitude now, dear?"

You couldn't speak, your brain unable to even perceive the words that tumbled from Alastor's mouth as the rhythmic slapping of skin against skin filled your ears. "A- ah! Hah! Uh, oh, oh fuh-!" His hips slamming against the fat of your ass smothered any attempt to form words.

The darkness of the alley he had parked in kept your licentious activities hidden well enough from prying eyes on the bustling city street, thankfully. But the vehicle rocking back and forth from the force of his movements was a dead giveaway to anyone that lingered at the alley's edge a couple seconds too long - the moans of pleasure being torn from your heaving bosom, the pleading whimpers for him to fuck you harder a simple confirmation of what Alastor was doing to you.

"I'm sorry, what was that?" he asked, his voice laced with a smug arrogance, and suddenly you found your head being pulled back, your sweaty cheek being torn away from the sticky leather when his fingers tangled in your hair and yanked even further until you were staring at the lining of his car roof.

Eyes clenched shut from the pain in your scalp and the delicious, burning stretch of his cock ramming in and out - going deeper and deeper than any of your previous partners, reaching new places you didn't know existed with every thrust - your nails sunk into the headrest of the seat you had been pressed against, clinging desperately to something, anything tangible to keep yourself grounded.

What was he saying just now? Oh, yeah - it was something about your attitude.

"I- hah! I said- fuck, I sssaahh-!" You managed to get out in between your gasps, biting the inside of your cheek to gain some semblance of control over the mind numbingly sensations coursing through your veins. Using the front seats as leverage, you craned your neck to peer over your shoulder until you could see Alastor's face, smirking at the site before you - rounded glasses askew on the bridge of his nose, pupils dilated, cheeks dusted with a faint pinkish glow, jaw slack.

"I said, you can fuck me better than that!"

"Such foul language! Do you kiss your mother with that mouth? Tsk, tsk, tsk," he teased, the flowy skirt of your dress bunched at your waist, giving him a clear view of the ripples being sent through your backside. His free hand grasped one cheek, guiding your sweet, sweet cunt up and down his excruciatingly throbbing member.

"You're right, I can fuck you better. But I wonder - can you?"

Detaching his hands from your hair and ass, Alastor spread both arms across the top side of the backseat, slowing the lazy bucking of his hips until he stopped moving entirely. Groaning loudly at his goading you into movement, you didn't waste a single second - rolling your hips back and forth on his lap harshly. Gripping the edges of the front seat tightly, your grinding gradually turned into a bounce, gaining speed with every downward motion of your hips.

"Ho-hoooh fuck yes, just like that! Keep going!" Alastor breathed out, watching as your hips gained speed with every downward motion, the 'smack, smack, smack!' of skin against skin and the obscenely wet squelching of your pussy filling the air and pushing you closer to your release, threatening to throw you over the cliff's edge of absolute bliss any second now.

Clamping down on his painfully hard length, Alastor let out a delectable little whimper, clenching his eyes shut and throwing his head back against the leather seat. Raking a hand through his damp chestnut locks, the pliant walls of your heated sex wrapped around his cock provided him with some amount of relief; but it wasn't anywhere near enough.

He needed more.

"Fuck, fuck, Alastor! I'm so close!" you cried suddenly, closing your eyes tightly as both of you felt the all-too-familiar fluttering of your pussy, causing your hips to stutter - leaving you right on the cusp of glorious ectasy but holding you back from that heavenly plunge. Alastor let out a breathy laugh at your predicament, wanting nothing more than to edge you, to grab hold of your hips and hold you still until your orgasm slipped from your grasp entirely. It would undoubtedly teach you not to act like such a brat, especially in public.

Had Alastor not been dangling off the very same cliff, he would have.

"I got you, dear."

And with that, his hands returned to the plush roundness of your ass cheeks and spread them apart for a better view, helping you to regain your momentum and planting his feet into the floorboard for added leverage.

"That's it," Alastor whispered, mesmerized by the sight of your ambrosian heat swallowing his engorged cock whole, his balls slapping against your neglected clit as he bucked his hips into you from below.

"Oh, fuck!"

"Don't stop, don't stop, almost there-!" he coaxed you into the beginnings of your release, imagining the way your face would scrunch up at the first few waves to come crashing over you. Thighs trembling, toes curling, your jaw dropped into a silent scream at the overwhelming pleasure hitting you over and over and over again, each wave more intense than the last.

Alastor wasn't too far behind you, and with one final thrust he was spilling his hot cum inside you and painting your walls white with his seed. He kept still as he rode out the high that accompanied his release, his hips pressed flush against your bottom while both of you panted and gasped and tried to bring yourselves back to reality.

"Fuck... maybe I should complain about your poor choice in musicals more often."

[jazzmasternot]

I feel bad for my future husband bc I just know ima be making him dress up as Alastor in bed. Ima be like

“cmon babe put on the red wig and pinstripe suit”

“Yes honey 😔”

[weediewrites]

New Orleans Beignets

HUMAN ALASTOR X FEM WIFE!READER (She/Her pronouns)

Summary: Y/N is one of the leading bakery owners in the entirety of New Orleans! People travel minutes, hours to try the sweet treats that reside within her bakery. But there's one special radio host who's obsessed with none other than her famous New Orleans Beignets.

E/N: This is based off of Princess Tiana's Beignets. It was too perfect not to make into an Alastor story so why not + she's one of my favourite princesses.

This story isn't proofread so it's not perfect. Also I haven't written for a while so I might be a little rusty, but I hope you all enjoy it anyways! x

No trigger warnings besides some light kisses! (Lmk if I forgot any.)

Rainy afternoons were never the brightest time for those in New Orleans.

The freezing cold, the shivering of finger tips, the multiple layers worn in hopes of being able to keep at least a little bit warm. It was always certainly a surprise when people realized that instead of the usual sunlight and humidity, it was going to rain.

So, what do those in New Orleans do during these miserable days? Well there's one of two things. Stay inside, bored half to death, or go find a nice place to have a cozy meal and settle down for the day. And what better place to go rather than Y/N's bakery?

That's the thought that Alastor thought of every day when these storms swept through New Orleans (and every usual day too.)

No rain, hail, nor shine could prevent him from leaving the studio on his lunch break to go check on his dearest wife who was slaving away in her bakery, and in the process of greeting her, he could never resist stealing one of her heavenly Beignets.

"Hello, anyone home?" Alastor spoke loudly, his radio voice on show as he entered the door. He watched as Y/N perked up from behind the counter after hearing the short chime of the door opening. "Hello, stranger." She laughed softly, standing up straight to brush off her dusty apron. It was adorned with pastry batter and powdered sugar from all the sweets made throughout the day, if anything it was just a sign of how hard she worked.

"Yes, I did prepare your Beignets darling." She admitted without a question needed, walking over to her husband to pass over a small brown paper bag, inside two hot Beignets showered perfectly with powdered sugar. They smelled divine, it was like heaven itself had been baked into two small pastries.

"Just how you like it." She nodded slightly, moving forward to kiss her husband's cheek nonchalantly.

"Thank you my dear, without you I fear I would starve!" Alastor laughed, looking at his wife with such a thankful and loving look plastered across his face. "You truly are such a darling when it comes to spoiling me."

"Only for New Orleans finest radio host." She said proudly, crossing her arms over her chest.

Alastor leaned forward, kissing her forehead softly for a moment before pulling away, smiling down at his gorgeous girl. "And only for New Orleans finest Beignet maker."

E/N: I'm tweaking I hate this. Am I still going to post it? Yes.

PLEASE don't be hesitant to send me some Alastor ideas or head cannons you'd like me to write. I really don't enjoy writing without a plot like this story, you can see the laziness within my work.

All dandy though, have a wonderful evening everyone!

- Weedie 🥀

[minkdelovely]

I AM SPELLBOUND.

This is IMPECCABLY WRITTEN; mesmerizing beyond any means that I can properly articulate. A true example of painting with words.

Just… PLEASE, PLEASE read this 🙏🏻💖

The Alibi

⚜ Pairing: human!Alastor X reader

⚜ Content notes: Reader is a sex worker, Alastor is a serial killer, brief reference to domestic abuse and injury, explicit sexual content, reader is a woman, reader has a pussy, bathtime, cum pooling in the collarbones, the sex is transactional but not like that

⚜ Wordcount: 4.5k

Only about half the men who come to the bordello come for sex. Those are the easier half. The simpler half. The guys who will be happy as a pig in muck to have a girl who squeals real pretty and a wet hole to fuck.

The other half are complicated. Guys need things other than sex. Some of them want someone to talk to, someone to listen to them and unfurrow their brows. Some of them want someone to hold, someone who doesn't flinch and look away when they cry. Some of them have other lovers, men or women, and they use the whorehouse to hide their affairs, paying for you and the room and sending you away to play cards downstairs at the bar.

Then there's Al. Al for Alibi.

He’s a sharply dressed whiplash of a man, a sweet, charming guy who plays a mean jazz piano, but this is Storyville- everybody and his brother is a charming guy who plays a mean jazz piano, so that doesn’t set him apart. No, what sets him apart is a quality that you struggle to describe. It’s something like grit, you think. Al’s got the eyes of someone who has found themselves sitting in the dirt at the bottom of a well and decided to dig themselves out. He talks like he’s about to sell you the golden gate bridge, and he dances like a man possessed, and again there are plenty of men like that in New Orleans, but none of them have that same look in their eyes. You like him a whole lot.

You keep a spare set of clothes for him, in the bottom of the tea chest at the end of your bed. He always picks you, always picks your room- it's the one with the biggest bathtub and the window with the trellised wisteria beneath it he can climb down. You don’t know why it’s you he picks, but your guts tell you it’s something to do with the red flannel bag you keep on your dresser, the one with grave dirt, dahlia petals and a deer’s tooth in it. His eyes linger longer than a man not initiated, and later you notice he’s got his own- a faded little bag in his pocket.

He always brings you flowers, as if he has come to your parents’ house as a suitor and not to your room at the bordello, and kisses you once, on the cheek, before he changes clothes and climbs from the window. It makes you feel some kinda way when it really shouldn’t; you’re no blushing girl at a cotillion ball but a grown woman fucking men to pay her rent. The sensation of a man’s lips against your cheek shouldn’t linger like this does, a phantom on your skin long after the wisteria has stopped shaking.

When he comes back it's hours later, bloody and wide-eyed, grinning from ear to ear, trembling with adrenaline from whatever it is he's done. His eyes say he’s still in the well; still trying to dig upwards, and it stirs a feeling in your chest that is either pity or envy or both.

You don't ask him where he's been, or what he's done. That's not your job. Your job is to run a warm bath for him, and help him out of his bloody, torn clothes. Your job is to get the soap he likes, the scent in the water he likes, and help him into the tub. Your job is to hold his long, elegant hands in yours as you meticulously clean the blood from under his fingernails, his nailbeds. Your job is to help him down from his quivering maniac high, to stroke the tension from the muscles in his thin shoulders and bring his face to your chest.

Your job isn’t to desire him, but somehow he always manages to stir that part of you too. Even after a day when you’ve been touched too much he is beautiful, all long lines and sharp angles, leaning into your touch but never demanding it. The first few times you bathe him you hope that it might turn into something more, that he might rise from the waters of the tub and ask to know you biblically, but it doesn’t happen, so you content yourself, pitifully, to pleasing yourself after to the memory of the planes of his back, or the feel of his hair through your fingers as you shampoo him.

When you’re done bathing him he allows you to wrap him in one of the bordello’s fluffy towels around him, and he lies on the bed, his head in your lap, looking up at you as his breathing slows. He likes to talk, just like all men like to talk, and Al talks big. He talks jazz, about the musicians he’s seen and the ones he’s played cards with with. Who he’s had on his show, who he wants on his show. Sometimes he talks like he’s selling himself, like he’s one of the girls downstairs in the bar on a long and unfruitful night and you’re a big spender who just walked in. It’s not so uncommon that a guy comes in trying to impress a girl, but from him it’s downright charming. It’s not like he’d even have to try to get your panties off, but what he wants from you is approval. Your undivided attention. He’s paying, so you give it.

You stroke his hair and tell him how well he’s doing, how his momma would be proud, and he nods like he wants to believe you, but his eyes don’t change. He’s still staring like he’s got his back to cold earth and his face to distant, untouchable stars.

One night you have a bruise on your face from your boyfriend, covered with powder and rouge but the swelling still visible, and he wants to know who has done this to you. Most guys know better than to ask this kind of thing; you’re a whore, after all, and violence is a hazard of the workplace, but Al is persistent.

For once, he doesn’t leave through the window to climb down the wisteria, instead sitting on the bed with you, one long thin arm round your plush waist. Asking who did this, who did this. His voice is sweet as brown sugar, the same darkness underpinning it, as his accent drifts, from bright, clipped wireless polish to something lower down in his register, something more recognizably local. For once in your relationship Al wants something from you, something more than an open window and an alibi for his nocturnal hobbies.

“Tell me, chouchoute.” Al’s mean jazz piano fingers trail the line of your jaw to your chin, his index finger curling beneath to lift your face to his. There’s something more in his soulful brown eyes now, more than the look of a man deep in the hole. There is hunger. Desire.

You feel your mouth grow dry, feel the pulse in your neck. To be wanted by him, in whatever way that is, is a feeling with an intoxicating potency. You like sex well enough, but sex is work. Being touched by him feels like a genuine seduction, the sort that sets your skin feverish and lips chapped from kissing.

“I shouldn’t tell you,” you say. You know you’re right. Telling a customer about your personal issues is not something that ends well for people like you. Guys get involved. Guys get attached. Guys get violent.

“Oh? You shouldn’t?” His eyes are fixed on yours. He smiles like a wolf. “Are you worried about what I might do, once I know?”

The problem is, you want him involved. You want him attached. Frozen under his gaze, you think of the blood under his fingernails. He’s already violent. Every night he’s steeped in red, whiplash thin body sharp and manic. But your boyfriend is a bigger guy than him. You don’t want Al getting hurt. “Would you promise not to do anything, if I told you?”

“Where would the fun be in that?” Al gives a huff of laughter. “Let’s make a deal,” he says, his eyes still hungry, his hand still on your face. “You give me what I want, and I take you to heaven tonight. You hear the angels sing as many times as you want. Sound good?”

From most of your customers, you would dismiss an offer like this as male ego. Boastfulness. But Al’s slender fingers give you goosebumps as they trail down over your windpipe, telling you he’s good for it.

Al doesn’t wait for your answer, but he does kiss you, all sweet and soft and romantic, like he’s your sweetheart and you’re on a date, enough to make you melt into him. You don’t usually kiss clients, and it takes you off-guard, his honeyed tongue sweeter than his words as it strokes against yours, still selling his offer. His long musician’s fingers are going to curl inside you and his cock is going to be hot, silk-sheathed steel against your skin and just the thought of that makes you ache for him. You moan against his tongue and his lips twitch against yours, smiling.

“Well?” he says, though he knows your answer. He’s just offered you something that far outweighs the value of what he’s asking. A night of his attention, all for a name.

“Payment up front,” you say, drunk on his touch already.

“Clever girl,” says Al, and from anyone else that would feel damn patronizing, but out of his sly smile it makes you want more.

He undresses you, which isn’t exactly hard- you pick your costumes as things that can easily be slipped off and tossed to the floor, but Al drags his mouth against the skin of your neck, your back, your shoulder, slow, sucking kisses that aren’t quite hard enough to leave marks, but feel like they might. His isn’t a sloppy, desperate gambit, but a studied one, fingers ghosting over the bruises on your face. Fuck, you want him to take you, want him so much that it makes your guts ache with it. You want him to throw you on the bed, point your toes to the ceiling and make you see stars, but he’s not a man to be rushed.

He’s there to taste you, to breathe in your breath. He’ll be everything you ever wanted him to be, if you’ll only let him.

When he loosens his tie it’s with a coquettish tilt of his head, and you can tell he likes being watched. Al slows the process down for you, undoing buttons with a studious slowness, twirling each sleeve garter once around his finger as he removes it before tossing it to the side. When he takes off his belt, he winds it once round each of his palms and snaps it tight, mouth twitching when you startle at the noise. Hurry up, you want to tell him, but watching him is just too damn fun. When he’s down to vest, boxer shorts, socks and sock garters, the point at which most men look ridiculous, he gives you a sultry look and stalks over to the bed where you are sitting, your legs off the edge. With a haughty flick of his head, he plants one arched foot on the mattress between your knees, toes first, and leans forward onto that knee, his face perilously close to yours. You run your hands down his leg, from his knee to the garter for his sock, and he catches your mouth in a light, teasing kiss.

You undo the clasp on the garter, pulling it down along with the sock, and stroking the long, lean, line of his calf. He makes a noise in his throat that’s almost a purr, and breaks the kiss as he steps out of the sock entirely and switches legs. You take more time with the second garter, not least because the position gives you a view of Al’s boxer shorts. He’s hard for you, the small white buttons on his fly straining to hold back the length of his cock, and the sight makes your mouth water.

Al pushes you back, climbing on top of you, and his legs straddle your waist as you slide your hands up his thin sides, hooking your thumbs under the hem of the ribbed cotton of his vest and pushing it up over his chest. He has a hungry frame, not a scrap of softness to be found, just the stark plane of his stomach and the ridges of his ribs under your fingers. It suits him, matches the hunger in his eyes, the hunger that you see flickering when he peels the vest off over his head and tosses it to one side. You press your hands up to his sternum, feeling his heartbeat, and he closes one hand over them, smiling down at you as he frees his cock from its confines with the other. He’s uncut, his tip a deep fuchsia pink and weeping, and all you can think about when you see it is how he will feel against you. How he will taste. How it will feel to have him wedged deep in your cunt.

Happily, Al obliges on the first count, leaning down to kiss you, the tip of his cock pressing warm against the softness of your stomach. You kiss more, rolling, shifting, your fingers in his hair, his roving over the contours of your back, until you are side by side on the bed, skin to skin.

You love his cock. You love the hot, turgid weight of it against your hand, your stomach, your thigh. The way he beads with wetness at his tip, the trail he leaves against your skin like a proof of desire. To feel Al press it against you is a surge of warmth to the bottom of your spine, a building pulse between your legs. He’s not even seeking egress, just sliding that silky solidity over your skin in an act that has you feeling completely and utterly wanted. You touch him, stroking your palm up over his shaft, and he allows himself to groan, rutting into your hand and against your body all at once.

You shuffle up the bed a little, until your nose is level with his collar, then hook one leg over his hip, parting yourself with one hand as you guide his cock with another, so that he rests between your inner lips. He rolls his hips in a slow, considered motion, and it is you who are sloppy; slick with arousal and reckless with desire.

The noise in Al’s throat is a pleased growl, his hand sliding round over your hip. He’s not trying to get inside, not really, just enjoying the sensation of you rolling your hips so that his cock grazes your clit and entrance in turn. He stills your hip with his hand, mirroring your motion with a roll of his hips that has him rutting through the boat of your labia. There’s a purr in your throat at the feel of him, hot satin sheathed steel.

“Tell me what you’re thinking, chouchoute.” Al’s sugar laden bedroom voice brings you back to the present, the vibration of it palpable with your face against his narrow chest. He doesn’t stop rolling his hips though, something for which you are grateful as the zenith of each arc brings new pleasurable sensation.

You speak against his skin, and it’s harder to talk dirty to him than with another client, even now with his cock rutting between your lips. “You could make me come like this,” you say, face hot, and hear his soft groan in response.

“Would you like that?” he asks, his cock sliding between your legs again, and it’s the most erotic thing you’ve ever heard. You don’t even say yes, just press your face open mouthed against his chest and shoulder. You feel his soft huff of laughter, his grip on your hip tightening as he angles a little more perfectly, and the long roll of his hips becomes a movement that is tighter and more focused, a back-and-forth that brings a cry unbidden from your lips.

You are swearing, soft and sweet against his skin as he grinds an orgasm from you, the tip of his cock kissing your entrance as his shaft presses firm into your clit. It’s like his lips on your cheek, a sensation that’s going to linger like a phantom in your body long after Alastor himself has left. It’s more than the exquisite sensation, each nerve ending alight, but the knowledge of his desire; his long fingers gripping the flesh of your hip and the groan from his chest as he feels you tremble, orgasm close.

“Fuck,” you breathe, as you feel yourself fall, your hole fluttering around nothing, the entirety of your core seeming to pulse in time. Al tilts your chin up, pulling your face from his skin, and kisses you while you’re still in the middle of it. There is nothing needy in his lips and the touch of his tongue. Rather than an entreaty his mouth is a gift. His hand on your cheek is a gift, his hand on your hip is a gift. And his cock, its weeping tip brushing your entrance. That will be yours, too, as soon as you say the word.

His touch is a flame that laps at firewood, and you bathe yourself in it, pressing your quivering body against his, your softness against his hungry lines. Another kiss, another roll, and you are pulling him atop you, face to face, his knees between your legs. Another man would be in you to the hilt now, but Al is polite to a fault. Patient, he waits for your hands on his hips, your legs hooking around the back of his knees.

You kiss him as you pull him inside you, your hands on his narrow ass as you feel the cry the act pulls from his chest, the shiver that runs down his back. His cock is everything that it promised, filling your cunt with its weight and heat, but what’s more is that it’s his. More delicious than the sensation of him moving inside you is his response; the way his grip on you tightens, his mean jazz piano fingers no longer playing a melody but merely a rhythm that matches the beating of your heart, the way his hips twitch for you, his breath catching, and the way he moans soft against your lips.

When he opens his eyes they are unfocused; for the first time since you first met him they don’t have the look of a man in a hopeless kind of pit. They are the eyes of a man lost in the moment, in your moment. Al is a gift, and your heart tells you to treasure him.

“You feel so good inside me,” you tell him, and it’s no professional courtesy, but an honest and unvarnished truth, words spilling out of you as his cock pushes in. Then Al lifts your legs to get himself deeper, and you are the one who is lost. There’s no artistry to the fuck, but it’s not needed, not with your cunt still tender from your first orgasm and your toes pointing to the ceiling. The sensation is strong enough that it threatens to overwhelm, the metronome of Al’s hips drawing note after tremulous note from your voice box, and the feel of him is sublime. He puts a hand on your mons, thumb stroking your clit, and the sensation of that is something you would willingly succumb to forever. It’s his name on your lips as you orgasm round his cock, and he grins down at you, teeth white as fresh-starched shirt collars.

“You’re enjoying me so far, chouchoute?” he asks, fingers tracing the contours or your cheek, the contours of your bruises.

“Al.” You pause to kiss his fingers, an aftershock that you’re sure that both of you feel running through you. “You are a wonder of a man.”

“Someone’s good at flattery,” he says, a gentle kiss to your lips, but he’s not so good an actor that you can’t see he’s proud of himself, proud of the state he’s got you in, all boneless and glowing.

“But what about you?” you ask, a hand down his warm side, to his hip. “You’re just gonna make me go again and again, and nothing for you?”

“It’s a change of pace for you,” he says, and he pulls out of you, leaving you achingly, tragically empty.

“Who’s to say I don’t enjoy seeing a man satisfied?” you say, your hand finding his gleaming cock, drenched in your slick, and squeezing. Al breathes out, slow and shaky, lowering his face to yours.

“Is this what you want?” he asks, lips against your ear, voice low in his register. “I can spend myself over you, then attend you again as you lie covered in my regards.”

“Yes,” you breathe, voice higher than you intend, and he closes his hand over yours around his cock, nudging you supine as he pumps the shaft. His weeping slit smears against the skin of your stomach at the nadir of each stroke, and you can feel the state of him under your fingers, still slick with your juices. How he swells, harder and hotter, his grip forcing yours firmer until at last he spills himself, a line up your stomach and chest. His breath is unsteady as his cock pulses in your hand, and he strokes a hand up your body, smearing his seed into your skin.

“Now you,” Al says, a little breathless as he crawls backwards over your body, soft kisses in places his cock has marked. His long fingers find your sex, parting your lips and drawing slick across your folds. “How would you like to climax next, chouchoute? My fingers? My mouth?”

“Your mouth?” you repeat, heat spreading through your core. Even here in Storyville, there are not many men willing to kiss a whore’s cunt.

Al’s smile widens, showing teeth, and you realize belatedly that with his fingers between your folds he can feel the surge of wetness that seeps from you at the mere thought. “I think you like that idea,” he says, and he pushes two long fingers inside you.

He fucks his fingers in and out of you, and you bite your lip as you feel him start to press against spongy tissue. Girls make jokes about musicians and their fingers, but you know firsthand that the finest musician in the world isn’t much use if he doesn’t know the instrument. If a guy doesn’t know the curve of your walls, to smear slick up and over the hood of your clit, it doesn’t matter a damn how well he can play the steel guitar.

Al can play a woman’s body well enough to hit the high notes. His fingers curl and drag, and the noise the action brings from you was one you didn’t know you could make. There are tears in your eyes from the intensity of it, and it is all you can do not to beg him for more. All the while he moves down your body, his mouth soft over the skin of your chest, your stomach, your hips. His breath is hot, even in the summer evening heat, and Al is smiling all the while, glancing back up at you to see your expression.

You wonder what you look like to him as his breath graces your inner thighs, his lips brushing teasingly on the fragile skin there. Are you a thing of beauty, to be treasured and worshiped, or merely a needy wretch, trembling and panting, each movement tantamount to begging for his touch? Perhaps both. He curls his fingers inside you once more as his tongue touches hot and slick against your overwrought clitoris.

You had expected his cock, wanted his cock, but to feel his mouth on you is something else. It is bliss. Pure, untrammeled bliss. He leaves you with nothing but sensation, the flat of his tongue pressing, laving, until it becomes too much and you want to cry out, then the seal of his lips on your slick, engorged flesh, a little suction, a noise of appreciation in his throat. You stop watching, surrendering fully, his long fingers hitting a sweetness as his tongue strokes on bliss. There are no thoughts in your head anymore, only his touch. Your hips are bucking, uncontrolled, your fingers in his hair, and still he gives, his honeyed tongue sweeter than even his words had been.

It’s with a broken cry that you cum on his fingers, and he stills for you, breath hot on the lips of your cunt, fingers still inside you as you tremble and quake.

He crawls up your body again, folding your limp form in his long, thin arms, a pleased hum in his chest.

“You’re satisfied with my end of the bargain, I hope?” he asks, and it’s not a mercenary question from him, paired as it is with a kiss to the top of your head.

The notion of proposing marriage to him swims through your sex-addled brain before you remember that jobs are thin on the ground in Louisiana right now and you have rent to pay. You swallow down romance and sentiment, which is difficult with those arms around you, but you manage it. “You best not set up shop here,” you say. “The girls downstairs would be spending their whole night’s earnings for just a couple minutes with you.”

“That’s a good thing, surely.”

“They’d make themselves destitute.”

You feel his thin chest shake as he gives a soft bark of laughter, but there’s relief in there too, and gratitude. He holds you a little tighter, longer than he needs to. You let yourself enjoy it.

“The name?” he asks, when that moment of softness has passed.

“Elijah,” you say. “My boyfriend.”

“Former boyfriend, I’d hope,” says Alastor, pointedly. He has the hungry look in his eyes again, the look like he’s trapped and digging his way out. The look you like.

You touch your face, where the bruise is swelling beneath your makeup. “Sure looks like it’s going that way, yeah.”

Alastor leaves by the window that night. You fold his clean clothes and put them in your tea chest, in case he comes back, his little sleeve garters and his ribbed cotton vest and all of it, smelling faintly of him. He doesn’t return.

The next morning, when you go back to the rented room that you share with your boyfriend, there’s no sign of him, either.

[6esiree]

𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐇𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝, 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐚𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐁𝐮𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫

One, two, three, four… that’s how many times you tentatively pressed your lips against Alastor’s cheek until he finally stirred awake. It was late—about 3 AM, give or take—but you just couldn’t sleep, not after he took you out to watch a particularly frightening film earlier in celebration of Halloween. And with it being the witching hour, every creak, every groan, and every meager noise that resounded throughout the aging house your dear husband inherited from his departed mother made you all the less willing to close your eyes.

“Is something the matter, sweetheart?” Alastor eventually rasped, an apologetic smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you watched his pupils dilate to adjust to the darkness, but he couldn’t see all that well anyway. “Can’t sleep, I presume?”

With an abashed nod, you shuffled closer to him, tossing your arms around his waist and bringing your bodies flush together, your cold nose pressing against the hollow of his throat. He returned your embrace almost instinctively, his knee nestling in the space between your legs as his hands traveled past your nightgown without an ounce of shame. But it was perfect—the way he firmly squeezed your hips and melded to your smaller frame with his larger one like a puzzle piece. He was perfect.

Or so that’s what you thought.

“Pray tell, how could you allow some…” Alastor murmured into your hair, slender fingers delicately tracing the fine curvature of your body, moving up and up and up… till they arrived at the supple flesh beneath your breasts, “…silly little phobia to keep you awake?”

Your eyes fluttered shut with a breathy sigh, nails haphazardly raking up his sides in response to the tantalizing manner in which he thumbed at one of your nipples. His other hand slid up the back of your neck, grasping a handful of your hair and pulling your head back ever so gently. Unbelievable—he tutted, and you would have felt even more embarrassed if he hadn’t nipped at the column of your throat… or made his arousal known to you, his hardening erection bumping against your clit oh-so perfectly.

One, two, three, four… that’s how many times Alastor nipped at you, his teeth leaving tiny bruises on your skin almost in revenge for rising him from such a peaceful slumber. And even though he thought your reason to be rather childish in nature, he wouldn’t allow you to suffer for any longer than you already had; so he pushed you down onto the mattress, a hand dipping into your panties with the intention of melting away the fear in your bones. Your lips parted in gratification—much like your legs did—hole fluttering at the delicate press of his fingers.

“It’s more of a fear of the unknown,” You admitted with a sheepishness that had Alastor chuckling, but only for a moment, his attention quickly stolen by the sticky sound of his fingers circulating your clit. “Not… knowing what… malevolent being may be lurking in the shadows, waiting for the—ha—perfect opportunity to strike.”

Hmph—that was the only thing he was able to muster as he picked up the pace; and while he couldn’t see you all that well, he could feel your cunt flutter, and he could hear the sheets rustle with every twist and turn of your body. But before you could come undone at a meager rubbing, he abandoned your clit and trailed his slick-drenched fingers down your folds, pushing past them and into your neglected hole, eliciting a pleasured cry from you. A deep groan reverberated throughout his chest as your walls swallowed three of his fingers—and so effortlessly, too.

“Hand me my glasses, won’t you?” As soon as those words left Alastor’s mouth, you stretched an arm towards the nightstand on his side of the bed. “Anyway, there are more things that are worth fearing in this world, sweetheart. Not some invisible force such as a spirit.”

“Like the Bayou Butcher?” You innocently asked between bouts of pants, your hand desperately searching for his glasses in the darkness… all while his hand searched for that velvety spot in your walls that had you coming undone in no time. “I don’t want to end up in a gator’s stomach.”

“I suppose,” Alastor responded rather curtly, but you were far too lost in your pleasure to take notice of that, “Although, I wouldn’t fear them either,” He continued, the truth almost tumbling from his lips, “So long as I live, you don’t have to worry about a gruesome demise befalling you.”

At least that little bit he added towards the end was truthful, but because you didn’t know that, you chose to shrug it off. Your husband was a hunter, and you vividly recalled the way he effortlessly took down a stag with a singular bullet as you finally located his glasses, including the unrelenting strength he had in his muscles to carry it back on the way home. Still, you refused to believe he could keep you safe from a literal serial killer, the same one that had been tormenting New Orleans for quite some time already.

Alastor knew by the slow and tentative nod of your head as he put on his glasses that you doubted him, but he couldn’t do anything else to prove himself. So, he curled his fingers and assaulted that spot in your walls with a feverishness that had you writhing and moaning almost instantaneously, his palm moving against your swollen clit. He loomed over you almost menacingly as he fucked you with his hand, watching your back delicately arch up towards him, your hardened nipples peaking through the thin fabric of your nightgown.

But the squelching from your cunt… oh, that was what made Alastor’s self-control snap. He pulled his hand out of you before you could finish, and you would have whined at the loss if he hadn’t pulled down his pajama pants so hastily, the sound of his weeping cock smacking against his toned stomach making your hole flutter with anticipation rather than disappointment. But as he flipped you onto your stomach and pulled your slick-drenched panties to the side, exposing your cunt to the cool air, he leaned in and nosed at your shoulder with a few more words.

“I meant what I said,” His lips moved against you as he grasped the flesh of your hip with one hand, the other moving the head of his cock up and down your folds, lathering himself with your wetness. “If I can kill a stag, I can definitely kill a man… “ He continued, finally pushing into you, your face falling into the pillow with a gratified moan, “…to ensure your safety, of course.”

Your dear husband would kill a man to ensure your safety, how… nice, you thought, communicating your appreciation by pushing your hips back with a nod that was much more firm and reassuring. A deep groan caressed your ear as you forced Alastor to bottom out, his cock kissing your cervix; and while he was well aware of the fact that you didn’t doubt him any less, he held onto you with a force that would surely leave bruises come morning, pulling his cock completely out of you before slamming back into you.

And he repeated this over and over again, unconsciously taking his frustration out on your poor cunt—for waking him up over some silly little fear of ghosts, and for especially doubting his ability to take a human being’s life. However, he supposed that you would eventually find out the harrowing truth behind his late-night shifts at the radio station as he reached down to rub at your swollen clit, encouraging you to come undone alongside him. And you did, your walls clamping down around him with a long whine.

“No more horror films from now on, you hear me?” Alastor stated as he went to plant a gentle kiss on your shoulder, his cock pulsating inside of your fluttering walls, but you swiftly turned your head to the side and captured his lips. “Oh, you cheeky little thing,” He murmured, whatever frustration he previously felt completely forgotten.

[liliannadelaphinehartifelt]

Alastor - [ DEVOTION… PT.1 ]

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[ NSFW ] + [ MDNI ] + [ SLIGHT AGE GAP ] + [ ARRANGED MARRIAGE ] + [ BREEDING KINK ] - ( there’s a lot to unpack in this one, I know, but you’ll enjoy it.. also pls kindly lmk the artist for the fanart I used so I can tag them thx! )

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Alastor Hartifelt was a fantastic husband.

No one could deny that.

Especially not his darling wife of one year and counting.

You, his sole companion during childhood, dawning from a rich family that occupied an estate near his family’s plot of farming land, and exceptionally infatuated with him early into your friendship.

From the very first time you met him out in the sprawling green meadows of Louisiana’s swamped countryside you found comfort in each other even amidst being ignored or teased by other children.

Their shared hatred and resentment towards you and the older boy cultivated an odd but strong bond between you two, and soon your strife to fit in seemed less appealing than being his truest friend.

Alastor immediately became protective of you, finding your shy nature welcoming like his own mothers, but also irritated by those who wished you harm for the simple fact that your family was better off than their own.

If anyone dared to pick a fight, tease, or berate you Alastor was right there to come to your aid. You’d tell him time and time again that fighting for you wasn’t worth it, that seeing him hurt wounded you more than their words, but for some baffling reason he’d never head your pleas.

Why?…

In retrospect Alastor wasn’t sure of the reason himself but he was certain it had something to do with the way you returned the favor by protecting him in your own subtle ways.

Your arms remained wide open when he needed an embrace, voice full of tender understanding when the two of you held quiet conversations late into the evening, and generally being his safe place when the rest of the world refused to be.

You were his darling from the very beginning…

His everything…

Yet, Alastor wouldn’t dare say it aloud..,

The two of you couldn’t be more different to those who observed your relationship from the outside. Alastor held an air of confidence wherever he went, suave, and well mannered. He could be cunning when provoked, dangerously charming to get his way, and refreshingly decisive under any amount of pressure.

A man every woman in New Orleans wanted, craved even, but it was well known the famous radio host had you at his side.

You, the city’s undisputed princess, daughter of a wealthy businessman, but regarded as the furthest thing from a ‘spoiled brat’. It was expected for those in higher circles to have sour and condescending attitudes but you proved to be different. Soft spoken, interested in the arts more than being out on the town, and some might’ve considered you ‘sheltered’ in terms of upbringing.

The contrast between Alastor and yourself brought about many whispered rumors and questions.

“How’d a sweet little thing like her end up with him?”

“Doesn’t he want someone better suited? Whats so special about her?”

“I hear, he married her for the fathers money. Don’t blame him for it either…she’s a real peach…”

“A little young for him don’t you think? She’s a lovely broad though…”

You’d heard it all. Every sort of rumor or piece of gossip people had to offer you’d picked up on rather quickly and at first it bothered you, but overtime seeing Alastor act indifferent to the scandalous comments made you less weary of them.

He’d never entertain the scrutiny, choosing to remind you his decision to marry wasn’t fueled by any ill will and as his wife you’d never need to worry about him caring for you.

Alastor’s always had, even when he’d left New Orleans to build his career he still thought of you from time to time, but that’s all he’d ever done.

Cared for you…

Love seemed to allude his spectrum of emotions and vocabulary. Yes, he shows you affection, buying expensive gifts, making sure you never lifted a finger for anything other than cleaning or cooking when needed, and proudly showing you off on his arm at parties and social events he attended.

Yes, he strived to hide his murderous tendencies, taking extra lengths to shield you from his ‘hunting’ escapades by planning them weeks before, and then going as far as discreetly cleaning his bloody clothes and weapons the night he returns while you slept soundly in your shared bed.

Alastor took great care in showing you he cared but defining his love for you was never addressed.

Not even on your wedding day.

It was as if he’d scripted his vows to say nothing of the emotion and even avoided saying “I love you” back when you’d accidentally let it slip out during your own speech for him.

You hadn’t pressed the issue at all, knowing Alastor struggled with concepts of intimacy and devotion since childhood, but the lmawing teeth of doubt pricked your skin harder with each passing day of your marriage.

Had you made a mistake agreeing to marry him?

Was he seeing someone else?

Someone knowledgeable of the world, maybe more experienced in life than you were, or more attentive?

Was she prettier?

Were you not his kind of woman?

Where did he go so late at night, at random times of the month, with a leather bag in his hand and a wide smile on his face?…

Had Alastor been seeing another woman for a whole year and you were just too oblivious or infatuated to notice?

Did he even like you anymore? Could he ever love you…?

Were you not enough for him?

Thoughts plagued your mind constantly, causing you to be quieter than usual, and less receptive to Alsstors lingering presence.

Your back was to him, giving a good veiw of your small frame as you cooked in the large kitchen. The familiar sight brought a smile to Alastor’s face. You were so focused, hair tied back by a white silk bow, and a sheer floor length robe to match.

He’d bough both for you only a week prior, claiming he couldn’t just let the items sit in the display window when you’d been staring at with such bright stars in your eyes, but in truth Alastor had imagined you wearing it just as you were now and couldn’t resist buying it on the spot.

Your husband remained silent as he watched you waltz around the kitchen, chocolate brown eyes peering over the top of his glasses as he did, but his smile faltering seeing the distress in your delicate features.

You weren’t the type to frown often, always emitting warmth and sweetness, so the rare appearance of anguish in your expression perplexed Alastor.

What had upset his darling wife?

Who would he have to kill?….

Asking what was troubling you would surely give him answers to both questions.

He stepped forward, coming from round the corner to enter the kitchen fully before striding over to stand by your side as you began to mix what he assumed was dessert in a bowl.

Albeit, he was probably right knowing you had a vicious sweet tooth.

“Strawberry cake I presume?” Alastor finally speaks, making his presence known with a cheeky remark, and you nearly jump out of your skin hearing his silky voice resonate around the room.

Your head snaps up to look at him, eyes wide with slight surprise, but they quickly soften as he smiles. A blush creeps onto your cheeks as he steps closer, initiating his usual habit of brushing a stray strand of hair from your face before kissing your temple gently, and only pulling away when you squeak out a greeting back to him.

“H-hi Al…you’re home a bit earlier than I expected…” you swallow thickly, staring at him adoringly for a moment before lowering your gaze as tinges of guilt build in you. “I’m sorry dinner isn’t quite ready yet…” you whisper, feeling shameful, and more agitated with yourself than before. Alastor had and would never berate you, unlike most men of the time he saw no benefit in treating his wife like a slave, and made an effort to remind you not everything had to be perfect.

“It’ s alright, darling. You needn’t rush yourself,” his voice is low, simmering with reassurance as he lifts your chin with his thumb and pointer finger. You smile nervously as your eyes meet his again, his touch firm and electrifying all at once, and your tummy doing several flips when he smiles back at you.

Alastor studies your face, attempting to pinpoint the source of your masked sadness, “You seem…troubled, sweetheart. Is there something wrong?” His genuine question brings a shock to your heart, tongue going numb as you race to think of a believable reason for your dampened mood, “I…I just had a little mishap with this cake batter is all!..”

You step away from him, turning to face the semi clean counter with a false air of cheeriness surrounding you. The fear of sounding needy and demanding while telling Alastor the truth keeps you from being honest with him outright.

Fake it.

I shouldn’t worry him with my insecurities or doubts…

It might push him further away…

The whisk in your hand spins in tight circles as you focus on mixing the overdone batter, beginning to thicken itself more than necessary as you kept going, using the task as a distraction from Alastor’s keen observance.

Something was wrong.

He was sure of it now.

His eyes narrowed behind the circular glasses, hands finding your waist as he came to stand behind you, allowing his chest to press against your back, and his head lowering to tuck into the crook of your neck.

A shiver racked your body as he exhaled a long, steady breath onto your skin. Your hands faltered, flurried movements becoming lax as you froze in his embrace, “When’d you start lying to me, ma chère…” Alastor mumbled into your ear. Every nerve in your body was on alert, shocked that he’d went much further than his usual bounds of physical affection, but pleasantly delighted he’d given it to you.

“M’ not lying,..”you try to uphold your lie through rising pants, tempted to moan quietly feeling his lips graze behind your ear, neck, and bare shoulder while your robe shifted lower. You weren’t certain if Alastor was inching it down by his own accord or your subtle squirming against him was to blame.

The ending result was the same either way. Your upper body gradually becoming exposed to his leering gaze and the cool air. Alastor hummed, the sound rumbling deep in his chest and flooding your mind repeatedly as he placed chaste kisses on your neck.

“I wish I could believe you, darling…” he chuckled lowly, hands inching towards the lace ribbon keeping your gown tied shut, and with one gentle tug he rendered the fabric useless. “Al..” you whined in slight surprise as he snatched the ribbon off, letting it unravel into a small pile on the tile floor before sliding his cold hands up the expanse of your heated torso.

Nothing.

You were wearing absolutely nothing underneath the thin robe and Alastor audibly groaned when he realized it.

Had you planned on this?

Were you just waiting for him to venture further with you?

All this time he’d watched you frolic and pace around your shared home, wondering what was hidden under you seemingly modest clothing….just to find you wore nothing at all…

Oh, what a rare occurrence it was for him to be such a blind fool.

Your hands flew to grasp Alastor’s wrists as he held you tighter, kneading your soft flesh lovingly, and taking his time to admire every dip and curve you had to offer him.

“Al…please..” you begged, visibly shuddering as he nipped at your neck and played with your breasts. “I won’t go any further until I hear the truth from that pretty mouth of yours, sweetheart…”

Damn it….you cursed yourself, slowly losing the will to think as his lips found the most sensitive area on your neck, bruising it with his tongue teeth until you whimpered and rushed out a jumbled explanation for your heavy mood.

“I…Imscaredyoudomtlovseme…th-that you d-don’t want me- Ahm…” you soft voice reached a new octave as your husband slid his free hand between your thighs to cup your mound, gingerly kicking your legs apart with a nudge of his foot against your own, and you tensed all over as he did so.

Fuck, he could definitely feel how desperate you were now, essentially a mess already without Alastor doing much of anything, and embarrassingly unable to control your arousal.

“Love, hm? That’s what’s troubling your precious mind?…” Alastor mulls over your confession, able to maintain his composure despite heat rushing straight through him to the head of his cock as he slid two fingers into your dripping cunt. You jolted from the sudden intrusion, head lulling back to rest on his shoulder as he pumped them in and out of you at a leisurely pace, curling his deft digits fowvard every so often to make you shiver.

His thumb found your clit, pressing defined circles into it as he began to ease your worries, “Love, ma chère, isn’t what I feel for you..” Alastor lets out a soft laugh, trying to calm his own mind before clarifying his vague statement all while pushing you near the edge of your first high.

“No….I feel much more than love for you, my dear. Devotion is a better term…obsession at times…” he admits the darker side of his affection through heavy breaths, cock twitching in his dress pants when you mewl in understanding. Your warm cunt suffocates his fingers for a moment, walls fluttering as the knot in your core threatens to undo itself, causing Alastor to sharply exhale from the inviting fluctuations.

Your lips parted to warm him of your impending orgasm but only a strained moan tumbled off your tongue. Alastor needed no other sign to tell if you were close, inwardly prideful he could make you come with ease.

“Go on, come undone for me , darling,” he insists in a hushed groan, his fingers stretching your walls in a fluid rhythm to drag your climax out, and you could’ve tumbled to the floor from the sheer intensity of the knot inside you snapping on his command.

Thankfully his taller frame kept you securely trapped between him and the counter that you soon found yourself sitting on the edge of after Alastor slipped his hand away from your throbbing cunt.

You watched with a dazed eyes as the older man licked a stripe of your cum off his fingers, brown eyes sliding shut as he let out a satisfied grunt before staring at your willing form perched on the counters edge.

The sight drew a his hidden hunger closer to the surface, toying with his self control as he took it in, and urging him to act on a primal instinct he’d only ever describe as “intense affection”.

Was that a flash of red in his eyes just now?

No , it couldn’t be…

You weren’t left much time to decipher the hungry glint in his eyes before Alastor reclaimed his position near you. His slender waist slotted perfectly between your thighs, the robe now draped off your back, and your hair gradually falling loose from its simple updo as his hands traced your sides.

“Love, sweet girl, is for lonesome fools…” Alastor pressed his forehead to yours, letting you chase his lips for one heated kiss after the next, and only denying you another to whisper against your soft and slightly swollen lips.

“Neither of us are alone or fools, correct?” He huffs as you nod slowly, bringing your hands up to undo his tie, and then proceeding to expertly unbutton his vest and dress shirt.

The general charm that Alastor maintained completely dissolved into pining under your gentle fingertips, an almost desperate shot of adrenaline consuming him as you peppered kisses along his jaw and neck.

If what he said was truly how he felt about you…it was enough to stamp out your doubts, allowing the adoring side of you he’d grown familiar with to resurface, “No…we aren’t,” you respond with a small smile.

He tips your chin up, placing a deep kiss on your lips as he shrugs his shirt and vest off, setting his glasses to the side as well before reaching for the leather belt on his waist.

You paid his actions no mind, busy with fighting his tongue for dominance, but admitted defeat quite fast as his wandered your mouth in expert fashion.

Your soft hands passed over his chest, moving up to tangle in his soft curls, gently tugging the strands to earn a groan from him. Alastor pulled back, a single line of spit connecting you two as he did so, and his hair falling in front of his eyes as he stared down into your tear glossed gaze, “You’re mine, ma chère. Til death and beyond…”

You nod, halfway coherent, but mustering the will to answer him with a content smile.

“Til death…” you repeat the phrase, mind reeling further from logical thinking as Alastor hummed hearing your dazed response, head nestled in your neck once more before he trailed open mouthed kisses down the expanse of your trembling frame. He brought himself as close as possible to you, smiling on your skin as you gasp quietly feeling his clothed erection press flush against your bare stomach, leaning further back in his hold embrace him better. You feared making a mess of the counter but as Alastor trailed his lips down your body and kneeled between your legs he gave one swift snap of his fingers to eliminate the obstacle entirely.

What?….How in the world did he do that?…

Your curiosity would’ve prompted you to ask him about the absurd occurrence if it weren’t for the anticipation rushing your blood as he came face to face with your cunt. “Alastor?…” you squeaked his name softly, attempting to close your legs when he sighed out a warm breath on your glistening folds, but he held them open using one hand with ease. The other resting steady on your waist, guiding you to lay back onto the cold marble countertop, and lingering there as you obeyed his wordless command.

“Good girl…” he praised, tone deepening as you whined quietly, the sound morphing into a loud moan as he lazily flicked his tongue over your slit once…twice…and a third time.

“More…” you pant in the midst of moaning, head craning to the side while your back arched and the urge to scream built in your chest as Alastor obliged your request with vigorous intent. He hummed melodically as your taste seeped onto his tongue, walls ever so sensitive as he explored them tirelessly, and a smirk playing on his lips as you writhed in pleasure.

Your face was soon flushed completely, eyes watering as they rolled slightly with each pass of his tongue over your cunt, and your small hands returning to tug at his soft brown hair. Another coil spiraled in your stomach hearing him groan in response, seeming to enjoy how roughly you pulled his hair, and his gaze drifting up for a split second to get a good view of your satiated state.

Seven hells….she looks even lovelier like this…

Alastor unconsciously drags you closer to his face, not caring at all when you lock your legs around his head and cry out from the borderline bruising hold he has on you now. “Oh god!…” you yelp, throwing him a bewildered glance before tossing your head back as he lapped at your clit like he’d starve to death without it, and the relentless attention to your bundle of nerves was the last thing you could comprehend before the knot unwinded itself.

Your vision blurred over, everything starting to spin as your cum gushed into his mouth, and the tears you were fighting to hide slid freely down your face as he downed every single drop your body offered.

It was all too much, the hunger in his eyes, his hold on you, and your high that never seemed to subside even as he broke away from your cunt with a satisfied smile on his face.

It was all too much at once….

Your head buzzed with euphoric afterthoughts, incoherency daring to cloud your senses entirely, but the sound of Alastor’s voice near your ear successfully halted the sensations long enough for you to comprehend what he was saying.

“You taste divine, ma chère…” his musing flusters you, a light shade of pink coating your cheeks as he dips his head to steal a kiss from you, “Al…” you sigh into his mouth, biting back a keen smile, and wrapping your arms around his neck to keep him near.

He chuckles hearing the unsteady tremor in your tone, adding onto his compliment after capturing your parted lips in another deep kiss, “I presume you’ll feel just as wonderful with me inside you, sweetheart…”

His assumption proved true. So much so that the moment his cock passed through your slippery folds a heavy groan of your name was the first and only thing he could manage to say. “Y/n….mon amor…” Alastor held you underneath him, not daring to move without completely relishing in the way your cunt wrapped around him first, and your broken moans dizzying the last bit of self control he was clinging onto.

You tried not to seem overwhelmed, with your legs wrapped around his waist, and your hands cupping his face to keep him as close as possible while your body adjusted to his size. With furrowed brows and a soft smile you praised your husbands well endowed length as he finally drew his hips back, leaving nothing but the head his cock resting in you.

“You…feel…s’good….” You whisper, breathless as he slams back in, swallowing your pleased cries with one tender kiss after the next. He tasted like you, hints of bourbon lingering on his tongue from the drink he’d poured himself before leaving the station, but your essence more prominent than ever.

All that he was, all that he did, and would ever do revolved around you.

His darling wife…

His one and only….

It showed through the sweet phrases he muttered against your lips as he took his time to please you, pace slow and deliberate, but the execution precise and cutthroat.

You weren’t sure when you’d raised your voice, crying out louder as he abused your sweetest spot continuously, and only going silent when a inaudible scream begged to leap from your chest while his cock bullied into cervix. Stars collected in your vision, hands clawing at Alastor’s back as you tried to hang onto reality for dear life, but failing miserably when he sped up his thrusts.

A subtle laugh passed his lips, eyes glinting with greedy lust as your head flew back, exposing all the love bites he’d left on your delicate skin, and the sight caused his cock to twitch inside you.

“F-fuck….Al!” Your eyes watered once more, sliding shut as a familiar pressure built in your core, rapidly gaining density the longer Alastor fucked into you.

He groaned at the sound of you shouting his name in such a twisted mix of ecstasy and anguish. Your soft voice becoming tainted with an edge he’d never imagined it could have. “Close already, my dear?..” he teased you, smile as smug as ever as he stood up straight, hands gripping either side of your hips, and his gaze lowering to where you two connected.

“Look…at…that…” he mused, suddenly slowing his thrusts to a painfully harsh pace, fixated on the way your cunt continuously creamed on his length. Alastor bit his tongue to keep from growling at the view, barely registering your whines and pleads for him to go faster.

“Al…Alastor…please..m’ begging you…please…” you felt your thighs shake as he continued his lazy strokes, clearly wanting to drag the ordeal out for his personal entertainment, and his lack of sympathy for your plight in that moment edged you even closer to cumming.

He knew it too…

That infamous grin on his face as he watched you resort to quiet sobs and desperate moans was a sure sign of the fact…

Alastor knew you needed him, loved him, lived for him..

“Please what, mon chere?” He bit his lip, unhooking your legs from around his waist to push them to your chest, giving his cock a new angle to stretch your cunt with.

You felt like passing out then, all strength evaporating from your body as he reached places inside you that surely didn’t exist before. His taunting didn’t make your dazed state any better, “Please, ruin you? Please, love you?… Let me hear you loud and clear, darling..”

Before you could register the words they flew from you mouth in a hushed flurry of need.

“Please…love me…fuck me like you love me…use me…I don’t care anymore…”

Alastor immediately rewarded your answer, wasting no time as his hips snapped into yours feverishly, flooding the kitchen with the sound of skin against skin.

“Lovely…” he cooed, voice thick with tension as he stared down at your overstimulated form, and within seconds of the praise slipping off his tongue you came undone. He followed shortly after, not caring to ask where you wanted his release, and you made no protest as the warm white liquid spilled inside you.

All you could do was stare, mouth falling open as he fucked his cum deeper, “It’s high time you became a mother, mon chere. You’d like that wouldn’t you?..” Alastor rambled, hardly coherent as his high coursed through him, but his statement crystal clear to you.

“Yes…” you whimper in response, walls clenching his cock as the thought of carrying his child sprung into your mind. “I’d love it…Al.”

His heart nearly stops as a genuine closed eye smile graces your face, a light blush painting your cheeks as he kisses them gently while gingerly slipping his softened cock out of your leaking heat. Alastor then lets your legs fall, lifting you to sit up straight on the counter again before wrapping his arms around your waist.

You hang onto him for balance, feeling entirely small in his grasp, and finding comfort in the embrace as exhaustion trickles in.

Alastor breathed in your sweet scent, beginning to pull your robe back on your tired form before reaching for his dress shirt. He was careful not to stir you away from his chest as he shrugged the clothing back on

“I’d love you and our child more than anything…” he nonchalantly mumbles, kissing the top of your head, and chuckling when your tied eyes go wide with undeniable hope.

“More than anything?…”

“Anything, my dear…” he repeats himself with a soft smile, bringing a hand up to push fallen strands of hair from your face.

That was when it occurred to you…

Alastor Hartiflet could love…

He’d always been able to….

And he loved you enough to share it with another…

How surreal….

xxxxxx xxxxxx xxxxxxx xxxxxxx xxxxxx xxx

This entire 1st part was brought to you by the Great Gatsby movie soundtrack…❤️ you’re welcome… ;)

[ BONUS CONTENT + ]

Actually it MIGHT BE 12 inches if we are being honest… ❤️ credits to creator.